I'm not going to tell you that Jessica took it lightly. Because she didn't.
In fact, after I told her about the call, she looked at me with judging eyes. Like I confessed to a heinous crime. Well, I couldn't really blame her.
The love of her life was found dead. And most likely killed by a mysterious murderer. Who presumably made that call. That I stupidly dismissed.
Boy, it sure did suck to be me right now.
"I want to be a part of the investigation."
Speak of the devil. Jessica stood on the doorway of my new cubicle the following morning, hands on her hips, looking like a woman on a mission. On a mission to ruin my investigation, that is.
I glared at her. "Will you keep your voice down?"
I stood up and brushed past her, then glanced both ways, checking for any eavesdropper nearby. No one's there. I breathed a sigh of relief and shot her a condescending look.
"Let's go to the ladies room," I said, grabbing her elbows.
Ever so conspicuously, I led Jessica into the bathroom and closed the door behind us. After checking the stalls for any occupant, I turned back to her. "Just because I told you about my plan doesn't mean you can join in."
"But I want to find out who killed George. I want to bring justice to his death."
"Well, what do you think I'm doing?" I took a deep breath. Patience. I need patience. "Look, just let me handle this, okay?"
"What if you screw up?"
"I'm not going to screw up."
Jessica stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. "Why, I don't believe that for one second."
"Well, you better believe it!" I snapped, glaring at her.
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna stop harassing you until you give in."
Suppressing the urge to strangle her, I shut my eyes and mentally counted to ten. Then in a calmer voice, I said, "I'm really starting to regret that I told you about that call.”
"You did the right thing. I have every right to know about it." And there went the calmness.
"What are you, his wife now?" I laughed sarcastically, feeling my irritation bubbling up once more. For a moment, I contemplated counting up to a hundred. But I doubt that number would still be enough.
Jessica probably realized that acting stubborn wouldn't work on me. Her expression softening, she stared at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Lacey. You have to let me help. Think of it as a way of making up for dismissing that call." Then the puppy-dog eyes turned serious. "You owe it to me. You owe it to George."
Oh great. She's guilt tripping now. Like I wasn't feeling guilty already.
"Fine!" I snapped, finally giving in. Like I had a choice, anyway. I couldn't very well allow Ms. Guilt Trippy here to sabotage my investigation out of spite. "But you better keep quiet. No one should know about this."
"Okay." She bit her lip. "But what if that hot detective finds out?"
"Hot detective?" Though I already knew who she was talking about. There's only one detective I knew who was hot with a capital H. You know, the one detective who makes me want to fan myself just by looking at him. But like I said before, my loyalty remained with Scott.
Jessica snapped her fingers in front of my face, missing my nose by barely an inch and effectively interrupting my GQ fantasies. "The one with the funny surname."
"Funny surname?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
She ignored it and instead asked, "What is it again? Lyon Jameson?"
"Lyon, who?"
"Don't tell me," she cut off, raising her hands. "Uh, Leon Jakubowski?"
"What?"
"Wait, I got this." Jessica scrunched her eyebrows in concentration. I could tell that she was really serious about getting the name right. I sighed and impatiently watched her think hard. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she snapped her fingers again (this time, I took a step back). "Oh, wait. I remember now. Yeah. Uh, Lian Jakeman?"
I pursed my lips to stifle a laugh. "Close. Liam Jackman."
Jessica smacked her forehead. "Oh yeah. Duh, how could I forget that?" She burst out laughing.
I frowned at her. "What’s funny?"
"His surname! Don't you find it funny?" she said in between laughter.
"No," I replied flatly. I swear, sometimes I don't get this woman at all.
Finally, after sensing that I had no intention of joining in the "fun," Jessica's laughter slowly died down. After collecting herself, she asked, “So, where do we start?”
***************************************************************************
We started in George's office. Well, technically, I did start.
Since I was the only one who actually went inside while Jessica served as a lookout.
Why is there a need for a lookout, you ask? George's office was practically off-limits by now after Scott imposed a “no entry” policy on it. Which meant I couldn't afford to get caught.
So while everybody was out enjoying their lunch break, I asked Jessica to cover for me as I sneaked inside my old boss's office. She was too keen to be the vice president of Amateur Sleuths Inc., anyway. She might as well serve her purpose.
I must tell you though, sneaking into a dead person's office isn't my favourite thing to do. Why, the room crept me out. It brought back memories, but not in a good way. You know, the kind that sends chill down your spine, urging you to turn back and run as fast as ---
Enough. I'm having goosebumps just thinking about it.
Now, if only I could find George's address book so I could get the hell out of this room.
"Aha!" I exclaimed, after unearthing the little black book in a pile of trash inside the desk's top drawer. Finally, I would have access to the list of people George had been in regular contact with. Maybe, just maybe, the killer turned out to be one of his acquaintances. You'll never know, right?
Now, better keep it safe before I got busted.
"What are you doing?"
I jolted and snapped my head up in surprise.
And lo and behold. Standing in the doorway was none other than Detective Liam Jackman who looked exceptionally hot today. Err, I mean, some lookout Jessica was, huh?
Taking a much-needed breath, I said, "Detective, you scared me." I clutched my chest for dramatic effect, hoping it would work. "What are you doing here?"
"That’s a mighty good question that I’d like you to answer yourself," he said, not even bothering to smile.
Crap. Think fast! "I need to get a..." I looked down at the pile of trash in the open drawer. "...few important files.” I casually picked up an empty folder, slipped the address book inside, and inserted a few pieces of papers to hide it. “Are you here for another round of investigation?”
He stepped inside and glanced around the room as he slowly approached the table. “I just discussed something with Mr. Lewis. Since I'm already here, I decided to drop by this room. Turns out, I have chosen the perfect time to do so."
Crap! Did I just activate his spidey-cop sense? Not that I was doing anything wrong. But I'm sure he wouldn't be thrilled either if he learned that I was conducting an investigation of my own. I bet he wouldn't think twice in accusing me of obstruction of justice, handcuffing me, and taking me to prison. Worst case scenario, I know. But still likely. Which meant acting casual would be my best option.
Keeping that in mind, I gave the suspicious detective the sweetest smile I could muster. “Well feel free to have a look around. I already found what I was looking for.” I walked toward the door, hugged the folder to my chest, and put a hand at the bottom for support. It would be hard to explain what I wanted to do with George’s address book when it slipped out.
“Miss Thompson.”
I stared longingly at the door. So close. I slowly turned around and asked hesitantly, “Yes?”
“It wasn’t suicide.”