Smoke Screen Read Online Free

memory loss. Sometimes the memory never comes back. But it doesn’t matter, because by the time the effects wear off, the damage has been done.”
    She looked at each man in turn, expecting them to be sharing her excitement over this credible explanation for her blackout. Instead they continued to stare at her without reaction. With asperity she said, “Blink if you can hear me.”
    “We hear you, Ms. Shelley,” Clark said.
    “Well, then? Don’t you see? My wine was doctored with one of these drugs. They work quickly. That would explain why I can’t remember anything after reaching Jay’s apartment.”
    “How about an empty bottle of scotch?” Javier asked.
    “I don’t like scotch. I never drink scotch. If Jay had offered it to me, I would have declined it, especially since I wasn’t feeling well.”
    “Your fingerprints were on one of the drinking glasses. Your lipstick on the rim,” said Javier.
    “You’ve already examined the drinking glasses? Why?”
    The two detectives exchanged a glance. Clark said, “Let’s start at the beginning and go through it again. Tell us everything that happened.”
    “I don’t know everything that happened. I can tell you only what I remember.”
    “Okay, then, what you remember. You don’t mind if we videotape it this time, do you?”
    Immediately suspicious of Clark’s dismissive tone, she said, “Why would you?”
    “Just so we have it, so if the need should arise, we can refer back to the tape, get the details straight in our own heads.”
    Mistrusting his explanation as well as his snake-oil salesman’s smile, she looked at Alexander, who said, “It’s standard practice, Ms. Shelley. You still don’t have to answer any question you don’t want to.”
    “I want to answer the questions. I want the answers myself. Probably more than they do.”
    Since calling 911, she’d been swept up in the disagreeable technicalities of an unexpected death—the pronouncement of the coroner that Jay was indeed dead, the questioning by police, the paperwork. She hadn’t had time to indulge the personal aspects of it. She hadn’t yet actually grieved the loss of her friend.
    Nor could she now. Not until she got past this unpleasantness. Restating her point, she said, “I’m desperate to know what happened to Jay.”
    “Then we’ve got no problem.” Javier sat down at the small table and motioned her into the chair facing the video camera. “I sure wouldn’t expect you to be camera shy.”
    His grin made her think again of sharp blades piercing soft tissue. She turned away from it and sat down. Clark checked the focus of the camera, stated the time and date and who was present, then sat down on the edge of the table and began swinging his skinny leg back and forth. “Who called who?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Who made the date?”
    “Jay. I told you that.”
    “We can check phone records.” Javier’s statement wasn’t just that. It was a veiled threat.
    Looking him squarely in the eye, she said, “Jay called me earlier that day and asked if I would meet him at The Wheelhouse for a drink. He said he wanted to talk to me.”
    “Before that, when was the last time you saw him?”
    “I don’t know the date for certain. Several months ago. When the man accused of child molestation at the preschool in North Charleston was arrested. Jay was at the press conference and addressed questions about the police investigation. I covered it for the station. We waved at each other, but I didn’t talk to him. I got my story from one of the arresting officers, not Jay.”
    “But you and Burgess were friendly.”
    “Yes.”
    “More than friendly?”
    “No.”
    The two detectives exchanged another telling glance. Alexander sat forward in his chair, as though about to warn her to be cautious.
    “Never?” Clark asked.
    “Years ago,” she replied with equanimity. Her brief affair with Jay hadn’t been a secret. “I relocated to Charleston to take the job at Channel