Scablands by EJ Averett

Author:EJ Averett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: woman sleuth, psychological thriller, quirky protagonist, deviant sex, witty
Publisher: Wellborn Books
Published: 2017-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Somehow, word got around the conference that Bryan had killed himself. When I got back to the hotel, people were congregated in groups, discussing it. With this awareness of my plight, it was easy to grab the conference organizer and explain why I couldn't be there for the workshop in the afternoon. I gave her the handouts I had planned to distribute, and told her I needed some time to process what had happened.

Safe in my room back at the Vance, I called the number I had transcribed from Bryan's office. I got an answering machine. The male voice was young. I was informed I had reached S3 Productions, but that neither Justin nor Trevor was in at the time. I was invited to leave my name and number and a representative would get back to me. I hung up.

I took a quick run through the phone book but could not find anything concerning S3 Productions in either the white or yellow pages.

Frustrated, I sat back in the chair. I had not calmed down much. I felt an eerie kind of liquefaction in my bones. I don't scare easily, but this was not fear, more an acute anxiety that creeps over you when you realize you can't control what's happening around you.

I retraced what had occurred that morning, right up to the time when the thugs had let me go. I kept re-seeing that flash of wrist with the watch wrapped around it. My own watch was an exact replica; a picture of Sigmund Freud on the face and cigars as the hour and minute hands. There was that tired old joke; sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but I knew better. One of the men who'd abducted me was wearing a watch we'd given away as a door prize at an annual conference. That meant he could well be a psychologist. Why? What possible reason would a fellow shrink have for pushing me around and giving me over to someone who threatened my life and that of my son? Had I finally done something too far over the edge and pissed off my colleagues to a point I never thought possible? I spent the next hour trying to recall who had won the door prizes that year.

I got lucky. The fourth time I called the number, someone actually picked up. That left me scrambling for a reason for the call.

“Hello,” I said. “Am I speaking to Justin or Trevor?”

“Are you kidding?” Then nothing.

“Uh, no I'm not.”

“Well then you're way off. No possibility anybody gets to talk to J or T directly. What do you think they hired me for?”

“You're right. I think I knew that.”

“Who is this?” Pause. “Is this you, Caitlin?”

Before I could answer, he jumped in again.

“It is you, isn't it? Dammit, I fell for it again. Quit doing this. You're killing me. And for fuck sake, don't tell Trev.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Listen, man, I forgot the damn address again. Give it to me and I can write it down this time.

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