Grand Theft Retro (Style & Error Mystery Series Book 5) by Diane Vallere Page B

inside the house. I stood up and followed the man in white to the medical van. After checking my blood pressure, pupil dilation, and pulse, he handed me a bottle of Muscle Milk and a straw. “You need protein. Drink this and wait here.”
    “I have to go back inside,” I said.
    “The cops won’t like that,” he said.
    “They never do.”
    I downed the beverage and handed the empty carton to the medic. “Thank you. I feel better already.”
    I hoisted my caftan up around my waist and undid the button on my pants. It didn’t help the have-to-pee situation.
    I went back inside the house, leaving the front door open so sunlight could illuminate the dark house. The chair that Jennie Mae had been resting in was now occupied by the black and white cat. Detective Loncar, Ribbon’s version of Columbo, stood next to the tray table that still held the ceramic pot of tea and the empty glasses. He wore a neatly pressed olive green suit with a white shirt and a yellow and olive speckled tie. I’d grown used to the site of his buttons stretching across his belly, but today they laid flat. He must have either lost weight or sized up.
    “Ms. Kidd.”
    “Detective Loncar,” I said.
    “You don’t look too good.”
    “Bourbon,” I said.
    “That’s not like you.”
    “I know.”
    The detective used the end of his pen to lift the empty tea cup and sniff the residue.
    “That’s where I got the bourbon,” I said. He turned to me but didn’t say anything, so I continued. “I thought it was tea.”
    “Where did it come from?”
    “Mr. Charles brought it from the kitchen.”
    “Who’s Mr. Charles?”
    “The butler.” Loncar crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say ‘the butler did it.’ I said the butler brought the tea from the kitchen. Those are two very different sentences.”
    “Where did the butler go after he served you the spiked tea?”
    I looked the direction of the stairs. “The last time I saw him, he went up there.”
    Loncar looked toward the doors. “You followed him?”
    “No. I heard him holler something about being robbed and I went to the kitchen to call you.”
    “Ms. Kidd, I would like nothing more than to tell you to stay out of this, but right now, you’re about as in the middle of it as a person can get, so instead I’m going to tell you to answer my questions as honestly as you can. Withhold nothing. Do you understand?”
    I held up my hand, palm-side out. “Before we do this thing that we do when I end up in these kinds of situations, can I go to the bathroom?”
    “Sorry. The rest of the house is off limits. Tell me again what you’re doing here?”
    “I’m here on a job. A paying job.”
    “Who’s your employer?”
    “ Retrofit Magazine.”
    “So your employer knows you’re here.”
    I bit my lip. “Not exactly.”
    “Miss Kidd, have a seat. We need to talk.”
    It took Loncar’s team several hours to secure the scene. Jennie Mae Tome’s cats swarmed under the feet of officers who photographed the interior of the house. I watched from the doorway, since I’d been instructed to wait outside. In time, Loncar joined me.
    “How are you feeling?” he asked.
    “Better,” I said.
    “Can you call someone to pick you up?”
    “I drove.”
    “I think it’s best that you leave your car here for the night.”
    “You can search it if you want. I didn’t take anything.”
    “I’m not accusing you of theft.” He paused. “I’m not convinced you’ve sobered up enough to be safe behind the wheel.”
    I was about to argue when a hiccup escaped my mouth. “I’ll call a taxi.”
    “I’ll be in touch,” he said.
    The Retrofit offices were empty by the time the cab driver dropped me off. I would have gone straight home, except that I wanted to pick up Logan and I really needed to pee. I went straight to the restroom, and then, after washing my hands, headed to my cubicle. “You are not going to believe the day I had,” I said as I turned the corner.
    “Try