Page 21 of Scripted for Love and Poison (Sol and Luke Mystery #2)
“I went there on behalf of my editor in London. She’s worried about Simon Smith’s disappearance. Jason was Simon’s editor.”
Luke feared the policeman would realize then she’d been the woman who was at Simon Smith’s apartment building a few days before. But he didn’t, and Luke didn’t know what to make of it. It didn’t reflect well on the man’s investigative abilities.
“Did Mr. Zit offer you any helpful information?”
“Not really. He thought Julie, that’s my editor, was exaggerating and that Simon would probably be drinking in a bar somewhere.”
“Was— is Mr. Smith a heavy drinker?” Detective Owens asked. “See, I’m also tasked with finding that other peer of yours.”
“Emily implied he drank like any other journalist.” Sol shrugged, palms turned upward at her sides.
“Which, in your professional experience, means?”
“Anything from being able to hold his liquor exceptionally well in a professional setting to functional alcoholism, I guess,” Sol said. “But please don’t quote me on that.”
“Swell. Journalist joke.” Hearing and seeing his attempt at a pretend laugh was a bit painful. “Did you or Mr. Zit eat anything when you were at the house today?”
“Emily served some delicious Viennese biscuits and tea, and we all had a bite,” Sol explained.
“Was the tea any good?” Luke managed to ask her.
“Best I’ve had in the city so far,” Sol said, turning to look at him with a mischievous smile.
“And you really had to go there without me, right?” Luke returned the playful grin, and for a moment he managed to forget where they were and that they weren’t alone.
“Ahem, hello! You two want to get a room, perhaps?” Detective Owens interrupted.
If only you knew .
“At what time did you leave Mr. Zit’s residence?”
“A bit before eleven?” Sol answered.
“And Mr. Zit was feeling okay when you left?”
“As far as I could tell,” said Sol.
“And you haven’t been feeling unwell yourself?”
“Unwell?” Sol looked panicked.
“Mrs.—erm Emily said she’d felt nauseous and dizzy all morning,” Detective Owens said. “We did some blood tests and can also do that with you.”
“Right now I have a massive headache. But I’m sure it’s all due to annoyance and hypochondria,” Sol said .
“So no blood test?” Detective Owens pushed.
“Definitely no blood test,” Sol said. “They can’t force me, right?” She turned toward Luke and put her hand on top of his forearm.
“Absolutely not,” he told her, trying to calm her with his eyes. He had literally no clue.
“That would be all—for now—but please do give me a call if you remember anything else,” Detective Owens said as he gave Sol a card. “And don’t get any ideas about leaving the county, let alone the country.”
Luke’s head jerked in the direction of Detective Owens.
“I’m sorry, are you saying she can’t leave?” Luke asked, only moderately horrified.
“Not while we keep investigating. We may need to talk to her again,” Detective Owens said.
Luke thought the detective was enjoying being difficult.
But Luke’s worst nightmare seemed to finally be fully materializing in front of his eyes.
That return flight back to London appeared to be further postponed.
“Breathe. Officer Hunky Dory said that I shouldn’t leave the country, but you can still go whenever you want,” Sol told Luke the moment they were out of the police station.
“Do you really think that I’m going to leave you here ?” Luke said to her, halting abruptly in the middle of the street, his frustration palpable.
“You seem to forget this is also my home country. It’s not like you’d be leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere, Luca. I’ve lived here for ten years,” Sol said, trying to elicit some calmness and humor.
“You have no clothes. You’re sleeping on an inflatable mattress. You have no car. You can get sunburnt in January! And there’s no place to find decent tea,” he argued. “And you’re telling me that I could leave you here !”
“What if I told you there’s actually places to get decent tea? It’s just that I still haven’t had time to take you there because this trip has been backward from the beginning.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“On it! But, before we go, let me say something.” She had finally reached him, and there was a chance to talk about what had happened. “I can’t help but think that we wouldn’t be in this situation if I hadn’t followed through with Julie’s request.”
“You mean if you hadn’t gone to see Jason Zit behind my back?” Luke said. There was no way of mistaking how angry he was, even if Sol knew that he was making an effort to keep his voice down.
“Yes, and I’m sorry. I would still do it all over again, even knowing the consequences,” she told him. “But I hate that it’s also hitting you.”
“I’m not mad because you were there for Julie. I’m mad because you didn’t tell me about it,” Luke said.
“And now I can’t leave the country ...”
“And now you can’t leave the bloody country ...” He pinched his nose and sighed in a gesture she knew he only made when he was nervous.
Luke’s cell buzzed then, and he checked it exasperatedly.
“One can’t even have an argument, it seems,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s the client texting. Let me read it real quick.”
“And we can go back to our argument?”
He lifted his eyes from his phone, recognizing the flirtation in her tone.
“We most definitely are going back to our argument,” he said, but he no longer sounded so pissed off.
“They want me to keep investigating Travis Wise’s poisoning.
They want me to check into Jason Zit’s death—and they’ve even added Simon Smith’s disappearance to the mix.
But I don’t understand. Didn’t Jason and Simon work for a different publication than Travis? ”
“They’re all part of the same media conglomerate, Marquee Media,” said Sol.
“So it makes sense that they ask for this expansion of the investigation, I guess. I’m glad you’re here to help me untangle these things, cara.”
For a moment it was as if he’d forgotten he was supposed to be mad at her.
“But you still don’t want me getting involved in the case?” she asked him, one of her eyebrows raised.
“You mean more than you already are?”
“Come, I know just the place where we can have a proper tea and a bite to eat. We can keep talking there,” she said. “And it’s even walking distance from here.”
“I cannot believe you.”
She smiled as she grabbed his hand in hers and guided him through the most pedestrian-friendly—and photogenic—streets of Beverly Hills until they ended at the Urth Caffé on South Beverly Drive.