Eat, Pray, Die Mystery Box Set by Chelsea Field

Author:Chelsea Field [Field, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648253211
Publisher: JFP Press
Published: 2018-08-13T22:00:00+00:00

9

At nine o’clock the next morning, I sat on Mrs. Dunst’s plump orange couch opposite Jay. All traces of paint were gone, but his eyes were still red and his arms still too heavy. He was glaring at me, but in an empty kind of way that made me think it was out of habit more than anything else. Like how, even now, a part of me hoped to please Aunt Alice despite knowing it was impossible.

My eyes were red too. I’d performed my morning routine with encouragement from Earnest’s app and then bawled all the way here. I’d finally switched the app off after that.

Mrs. Dunst bustled between us, pouring a soda for Jay and a tea for herself and me. It was a scene I was familiar with, though it had always taken place at Earnest’s previously. If it weren’t for the location and the fact he wasn’t here, I might’ve been able to pretend nothing worse had happened but an aggressive strain of pinkeye.

She settled into her own overstuffed floral armchair, next to the Christmas tree that was adorned with twinkle lights, baubles, and a handful of colorful, misshapen decorations that Earnest must have made when he was a child. My throat started aching again.

“Thank you both for coming,” she said. “I have some news about Earnest. The police wanted me to keep it to myself until tomorrow, but—”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t do what the police said?” I asked, realizing what she was about to say. It was very unlikely Jay had done it, but if he had, it would ruin the element of surprise when Connor or Commander Hunt questioned him. An element of surprise that might give them vital information.

“I don’t see what harm it could do, and you both deserve to know given you loved him too.”

Crap.

“The police think Earnest was”—her teacup trembled violently—“murdered.”

Jay Massey looked like he’d been slapped. I tried to appear equally shocked, but it didn’t matter because Mrs. Dunst wasn’t looking at us anyway.

She lifted the cup toward her lips but thought better of it when some of its contents slopped over the rim. Her hands lowered again, resting the cup back in her lap. “They said it was a heroin overdose, like we already believed. But that someone else injected it. That there were signs of a… struggle and the angle of the needle was wrong.”

I would’ve taken the cup from her, except I suspected the ongoing challenge of hanging on to it might be all that was keeping her from falling apart.

“They’re opening an investigation and told me they’d do everything possible to find who did this. But I thought…” She let out a shaky breath. “I thought you deserved to know.”

At last she lifted her gaze.

My heart lurched in sympathy. “Oh, Mrs. Dunst—”

“No! He can’t have been.” Jay shot to his feet, slopping soda over his hand, but he didn’t notice. “Who was behind it? I’ll kill the bastard.”

“That’s nice of you to say, darling,” Mrs. Dunst said.

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