Page 74 of Scripted for Love and Poison
Sol had to recognize that Emily had managed to describe Luke in an alarmingly concise and accurate way.
“Partner,” corrected Sol. “But believe me when I tell you, I also don’t know how that last part came to be possible. Apart of me still thinks I banged my head against a wall, and he’s just a figment of my imagination. Any moment now, I’m going to wake up and realize I made him up.”
“Only you didn’t,honey,” Emily said, and Sol remembered Emily using that same word without meaning it in the past, with her now-late husband. Cold sweat ran down her back.
Sol stopped eating right away, even if she knew it was impossible for Emily to have tampered with the food while it had been in front of her that whole time. She didn’t allow herself to look up and give away the location of her two accomplices, but she was almost sure Luke’s vigilant stare was on her. And she felt relieved just knowing it.
“Since you’re no longer eating, are we done?” Emily finally said.
“I feel you still have things to tell me.” Sol tried to persuade Emily, but she knew she’d probably lost her and Emily was already planning to leave.
“Only things you probably know: Be extremely protective of your byline and what bylines you decide to publish under,” Emily said. “I heard you wrote a book. Don’t wait for others to tell you what to do with it.”
Sol was tempted to ask what Emily meant by that. She wanted to have a nice conversation with a potential friend and a colleague. But she was there for other reasons.
“I saw that Jason won several journalistic awards during his career,” Sol said. “I’m guessing those were actually for your work.”
“Regardless of who wrote what, he was the one to get the accolades. And the one whose last name people remembered. What’s my last name, Sol?”
Shit.
“Zit?” Sol guessed.
“As if I wasevergoing to take that ridiculous last name!” Emily said.
“Okay, so you got tired of people not realizing you were the only actual talent Jason had.” Sol had run out of time and needed to ace her next lines. “And, on top of that, he dares concoct a fake girlfriend to see if you’ll leave him so he gets to keep some of your money.”
“I’ve told you, money has nothing to do with this!” Emily said.
“But humiliation does. First, he embarrassed you by giving up on a career at which you were excelling for him. Then he never gave you the credit you deserved. He shames you in front of everyone, telling them he’s being unfaithful?—”
“Since the girlfriend ruse hadn’t worked out, he was planning on incapacitating me, declaring me medically unfit, institutionalizing me, and getting the fucking money,” Emily said.
Sol couldn’t believe her ears. Her arched eyebrows attested to that, as did her saucer-like eyes.
“Fuck! Could he do that?”
“Let’s say by that point, I was too pissed to figure out whether he had any chances. I wasn’t going to risk it,” Emily said, her tone calm and collected. “So yes, I may have laced his food with cyanide. I felt bad for Travis, though. I never meant for him to get hurt. I’m so relieved nothing major happened to him.”
“Oh, he knows,” Sol said. “But what happened at the party?”
“I found a way of distracting the waiter serving our table, and I tainted Jason’s food while the waiter was otherwise occupied. I never predicted he was going to switch theplates! But, in hindsight, I guess that’s what happens when you offer someone weed. Their senses get impaired.”
“And then you realized it was Travis who’d been poisoned and raised the alarm.” Sol tried following Emily’s tale.
Emily looked Sol straight in the eye. “I don’t believe in collateral damage.”
Sol nodded. She believed Emily.
“Which is why the second time around, you chose a much more private place.”
“I bought the chocolates, with cash obviously. Injected them with cyanide and posted them to the house. I was well aware that Jason had such a sweet tooth, he would not be able to resist eating the whole thing, even if he didn’t know who sent them.” Emily chuckled, shaking her head as if still in disbelief. “His ego was so over inflated, he thought they were from a fan!”
“Was it always the plan to eat some of the chocolates yourself?” Sol asked.
“The spouse is always the main suspect, honey. But no one could suspect poor me, could they?” Emily said, her eyes fierce, almost menacing. “So how did you get me, then?”
“A hunch,” admitted Sol. “And a visit to Cacao Vieille. There’s a shop person there who remembered a redheaded woman buying a big box of chocolates one day before Jason died.”
