Jessica James Mysteries by Kelly Oliver

Author:Kelly Oliver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KAOS Press
Published: 2019-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Nine

THE NEXT MORNING, a wave of nausea hit Jessica so hard her eyes flew open. She stared at the empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying on the pillow next to her gazing back at her. Damn. Wrong Jack. She threw off the duvet and sat up. Head spinning, she gripped the nightstand for support then hauled herself to her feet. The damp outline on the sheet where her drunken body had landed the night before filled her with gratitude for her own private pigsty. She staggered to the bathroom. Squinting against the harsh daylight streaming in from the tiny window, she smacked her parched lips and wiped her cottony tongue on the sleeve of her shirt. Relieved when she made it to the sink, she leaned against the cool porcelain and splashed cold water onto her swollen eyes and into her mouth. Staring at her sorry reflection in the mirror, she swore she’d never drink again. She used her fingers to tame her wild hair, then padded back into her nest, and rifled through the pile of clothes until she found some cleanish underwear, a matching pair of wool socks, and her flannellined jeans. Steadying herself against the wall, she put one foot into the underwear, then the other, but when she bent down to pull up the panties, she was so light-headed she slid to the floor, landed on the pile of dirty clothes, and sat there, hands over her eyes.

The thick scar where the dumpster had torn the flesh of her right palm was smooth and cool against her forehead. She wondered if her skin was getting any thicker. Her dad had always warned her, “You’re too sensitive, Jesse. You need thicker hide. It’s a man’s world.” Of course, he meant the world of professional rodeo, but the same was true in the world of professional philosophy. She ran her finger across the scar, but the heart of her hand was as vacant as the empty lot she’d found herself in that terrifying night ninetytwo days ago. Maybe her dad had been wrong. Better thin skin than a hard heart.

Struggling into her underwear and jeans again, Jessica spotted the culprits sprawled sideways under the bed. She crawled on hands and knees and reached under the futon to drag out her boots. She’d just jammed her feet inside when her phone skittered across the nightstand. She jumped up and immediately regretted it. The room was spinning faster than a Montana twister, and its momentum threw her backwards onto the bed. “Ugggg…” she moaned as she reached for her cell.

“Hello,” she croaked into the phone.

“Why haven’t you called me back? I’ve been worried sick,” her mom scolded.

“I’ve been busy with school,” Jessica lied. “But I was just about to call you.” She lied again. “I’m helping a friend with some research on genetics and he needs some information about my parents. Do you or dad have golden blood?”

“What? Your dad, bless his soul, was as red-blooded as the next man.

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