Page 112 of Unbalanced

“What?”

“There was nothing in the bottle or on the glass. They were both completely clean of anything foreign.”

“That’s impossible. Run the test again.”

It was way too real to be a dream. I was most assuredly drugged. The way Emily was with me last night…I can almost…almost see her doing it. It doesn’t explain how she got into my condo, but I’m still working that out.

“We already ran it twice. I can do a third time, but if there was even a trace left, we would’ve found it.”

Am I really going so crazy for this woman that I have a wet dream…it’s…no, it’s impossible. Fuck. I run my hand through my hair.

“Run it again anyway. Check for things you normally wouldn’t, anything. I’m telling you there was something in that bottle.”

“Okay, I’ll be in touch. But don’t hold your breath.”

I glance over at the small bar in the corner, and sure enough, the expensive scotch sits front and center. Emily’s words at dinner come back to me. ‘I saw it in your office.’ Seems innocent enough, but there is so much more to her than the sweet act. I can feel it.

Shockingly…it excites me just as much, if not more.

“You cannot go in there.”

Rochelle’s angry voice is loud outside my office. I look to the door and see her arms out to the side, blocking the way.

“This is important,” Detective Hiller says.

What the fuck does she want?

“I don’t care. You’re not welcome in this building, and since you don’t have a badge anymore, I will have security throw you out,” Rochelle snarls like a rabid dog.

She truly is the best.

Marching for the door, I yank it open, and Rochelle looks over her shoulder at me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how she got past security.”

Jen holds up a brown folder.

“I need to show you this,” she says.

My fingers tap on my leg.

“Five minutes and I’ll leave.”

“Let her in.”

“Alden, are you sure?”

Rochelle relaxes when I squeeze her shoulder.

“Yes, but have security arrive ready to escort our unwanted guest out of the building if she overstays her welcome.”

With a nod to me, Rochelle glares at Jen, then returns to her desk. Stepping back, I let the disgraced detective into my office and close the door. This woman single-handedly ruined my before-dinner snack last night. Why am I even entertaining her?

“Make it quick,” I say, sitting down at my desk.

Jen reaches into her pocket and drops a dollar bill in front of me.

“I’ve been suspended, so I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m looking into this case on my own time, so I need to pay you to keep this confidential.”