Coke with a Twist (A Mercy Watts short) Read Free Page A

couldn’t stand it and decided to take a look. I prepared for the worst, his underwear or something, but it was a kitten. The nastiest, most pathetic cat I’d ever seen and that was being generous. It sneezed, spraying phlegm on the side of the box, and looked up at me with crusty orange eyes.
    “Want a kitty?” he asked.
    “Not really. Just curious.”
    “You sure? He’s a nice kitty.”
    I gave him a wave and sat back down with a bucketful of guilt. I wanted a cat, not that cat, but a clean, purring animal would be nice. I needed something to come home to. Something that didn’t care when I came home just as long as I did.
    Quarter after six, Becky came out with a group and headed down the stairs toward me. They separated at the second flight and I took my shot.
    “Becky Strattman?”  
    She turned to me and said, “Yes.”  
    I was taken aback for a moment. She was much prettier than her picture. She was almost luminous. She looked like JonBenet Ramsey if she’d been allowed to grow up. The beauty pageant JonBenet, that is, not the little girl in pigtails.  
    “Hi.” I extended my hand and she gave my fingertips a shake. “I’m Mercy Watts. I talked to Jennifer Kestler earlier and she said you might be here.”
    “What do you want?” The words rushed out of her mouth. She caught herself and gave me an apologetic smile to make up for her rudeness. It always amazed me how well name-dropping worked at getting people to talk. Becky never imagined I might be lying and I felt a little bit guilty about it. Not guilty enough to stop lying, of course.
    “I wanted to ask you some questions about Josh Byers.” Her face knotted and I’m sure her stomach did too. He broke up with her. No doubt about it.
    “Why?” she asked. “Who are you?”
    “Private detective. I was hired to find him.”
    “His family hired you?”
    “Yes. They’re very concerned.” More lies. Shame on me. “They said you know him rather well.”
    Becky flushed and said, “Can we go somewhere?”  
    I agreed and we went to a coffee bar down the street. It was filled with students done with a hard day of mind expansion. They were happy. Becky wasn’t. We ordered at the counter and sat.
    “How well do you know Josh?” I said.
    “We dated for over a year. We broke up last May.”
    “Have you talked to him lately?”
    “No. You’re really a detective?” She looked suspicious, but not worried.
    I nodded. Please don’t ask for ID.  
    Becky looked into her hands and I thought she might start crying.
    “Do you know Lara Haven?” I asked. “The girl that got raped at his frat.”
    “No, but I read about the case. It’s totally awful what happened to her.” She seemed genuinely affected, but she was thinking fast, too. Those hands were mighty interesting.
    “Have you heard anything that might help? Anything about the GHB?”
    “Why are you asking about that?” she said, looking back at me.
    “Because that’s what she was given and we need to find out why.”
    “And how.”
    “We know how. It was slipped into her Coke. She was trying to sober up before she went home,” I said.
    “Oh.”  
    “What do you know about GHB?”
    “Not one damn thing,” she said.  
    We sat silently for a few minutes, listening to the myriad of conversations around us. I wondered if anyone else could feel what was coming from Becky. She knew plenty about GHB.
    “I have to go,” she said so quietly I nearly didn’t hear her.  
    “Can I talk to you again? It might be a great help.”  
    Becky stood up. “Sure.”
    I sat there for a moment with my second mocha, feeling bloated and sick. I didn’t want to know these private things about Lara or Becky. I didn’t want to know anything about anybody. I got up and headed back to my truck. The homeless guy was still there with his box. No surprise.  
    “How much for the cat?” I asked.
    “He’s free to a good home. I wouldn’t mind a donation though,” he said.
    Of course, a