The Daughters of Artemis (Caitlin Reece Book 3) by Lauren Wright Douglas

Author:Lauren Wright Douglas [Douglas, Lauren Wright]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ReQueered Tales
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I found Lester sitting in a battered white Land Rover at British Fish ’n Chips, a takeout cup of tea in one hand, an issue of the campus paper in the other. He looked disgustingly young and alert, jeans and blue chambray shirt freshly pressed, sandy hair clean and neatly combed, complexion ruddy, blue eyes bright. He took one look at me, though, and his eyes widened in surprise behind his aviator glasses.

“Caitlin, what …”

“No jokes this morning, kiddo,” I told him. “I feel six times as bad as I look.” I parked my MG and climbed into the Land Rover. “Just drive,” I told him, slumping down in my seat. “Wake me up when we get to that yuppie restaurant by the ferry dock. Tidal Raves or something like that. I’ll be ready for breakfast then. Or lunch. Right now, though, if I don’t close my eyes, I’ll expire.”

Wise youth, he just nodded and drove.

* * * * *

After a snooze, and a lunch comprised of chicken noodle soup, toast, and weak tea, I felt as though I might be able to cope with the day. Lester watched me anxiously as I ate, but refrained from asking any questions.

“Okay,” I said, leaning back in my chair and pouring my second cup of tea. “I think I might live.”

He relaxed visibly. “Gosh, Caitlin, I was worried.”

I fixed him with a stern look. “Let it be a lesson to you, buster. Late-night drinking binges are hell on productivity. When you get to be a famous journalist, take my advice and stick to Red Zinger if you want to see your byline.”

He nodded agreement. “I tried drinking once,” he confided. “Gin with 7-Up chasers.” My chicken noodle soup gave a queasy lurch in my gut. “My roommate and I polished off a whole bottle of Tanqueray one night,” Lester continued. “I was so sick the next day I couldn’t even blink without wanting to throw up. I’ve never drunk anything since then. Not even beer. I nurse ginger ale at parties. But don’t spread it around, okay?”

I smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“So, like, why do you really need to go up to Land’s End?” he asked.

I saw no harm in telling him part of the truth. “It’s this case I’m working on. My employer’s missing sister is supposedly living up there on one of the old estates. It belongs to a guy named Crowley but apparently the property manager is renting it out and pocketing the money. I don’t care about that, though – I’m not working for him. I’m just supposed to talk the sister into coming home.”

“Oh. How will you do that?”

I shrugged. “Beats me. Something will occur to me though. That’s why we PIs are so highly paid.”

He nodded. “Because you’re so persuasive, right?”

“Wrong. We can command the stunning fees we do because we’re so inventive, kiddo. Terminally right-brained. When Plan A doesn’t work, we can invent B, C, and D at the drop of a hat.

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