Chapter Eighteen #2
Lincoln refilled and started the kettle.
“I’ll make you toast too. I have some fresh sourdough.
You’ll need protein, something easily digestible.
” He bustled around the kitchen and muttered to himself.
Deep down, he was equal parts tough guy and mother hen.
A few minutes later, he brought Nicki a mug of tea, a slab of toast, and a small pile of fluffy scrambled eggs with fresh dill.
He set a small plate with butter and honey at her elbow.
Nicki stared at the loaded plate and grinned.
“I didn’t think I was hungry . . .” She proceeded to clear her plate, using her fork more like a shovel.
Sitting back, she gripped her mug with both hands.
Her color had improved, and her eyes were brighter than before her meal.
“I feel much better now. Thanks, Sharp.”
He beamed. Total mother hen.
“You should be back to normal by tomorrow,” Olivia said. “Do you feel up to talking about last night?”
Nicki’s face scrunched. “Last night is a blur, but sure. I want to know what happened.”
Lincoln brought his laptop into the kitchen and settled at the island. “What do you know about your date, Cody?”
Nicki scanned the kitchen. “Aunt Liv, where’s my phone?”
Olivia brought it to her.
Nicki opened it. “His name is Cody. The dating app I use doesn’t give last names.
He gave me some personal information, but I have no way of knowing what’s true and what’s false.
” She reviewed her in-app message exchanges with Cody.
All were relatively tame, even wary from Nicki’s side.
She held back her most personal information.
She told him she worked in social media marketing but gave no details.
She said she lived in Randolph County but didn’t specify which town. His messages were equally reserved.
“He said he lives in Randolph County and works as an investment banker,” Nicki said. “He mentioned playing lacrosse for the university. I’m assuming he went there.”
“You didn’t exchange phone numbers?” Lincoln asked.
“No. I don’t give out my number until I’ve met someone in person, verified some of their data, and know that I want to see them again. I’ve been ghosted, and I’ve met some real assholes.”
Obviously.
“Good policy,” he said. “You know how I feel about dating apps.”
“I do, but everyone uses them. I love working from home, but it doesn’t give me many opportunities to meet people, and I like the efficiency of weeding out people who don’t have any interests in common with me.
I don’t want to waste my time with anyone with a worldview that’s drastically different from my own.
I have tons of respect for women who want to focus on motherhood and aren’t interested in a career.
But that’s not for me. It’s all about free choice.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been out on a date talking about how much I love my work, and the guy spends the entire date telling me I’m wrong.
I shouldn’t want that. I should want to focus my life on making biscuits and babies.
And the whole ‘submit’ thing makes me want to bite people.
” She took a breath. “All I’m saying is that a dude who wants a tradwife should date women who want to be tradwives, not look for a career woman like subduing her is some kind of personal conquest or such bullshit.
Apps let me make my interests and goals clear and make appropriate connections. ”
Lincoln shook his head. “I can appreciate your frustration. But it’s still too easy to make a fake account on most apps.
It’s too easy to lie. Too easy to con someone.
The whole setup is as sketchy as social media.
” He held up a hand. “I know these things are here to stay, and I’m well aware of my dinosaur status. ”
“Won’t the police try to find Cody?” Olivia asked.
“Tuckey will probably make a preliminary effort to find him and question him, but the police need a warrant to pursue Cody’s private information. They can’t get that without probable cause. The surveillance tape clearly shows Cody not slipping anything into Nicki’s beer.”
“No probable cause,” Olivia concluded.
“Right,” Lincoln said. “Thankfully, I have more freedom. Technically, PIs have to adhere to the law, but there’s plenty of gray area.
” And if the stakes were high enough, Lincoln would take that gray to charcoal.
“I’m also not a hundred percent sure it was Cody who drugged Nicki.
Assumptions can wreck an investigation. I have to follow the evidence, not lead it. ”
As a writer, Olivia tended to work on evidence and theories. “He was the one who has motive, though. Why would a random stranger slip GHB into Nicki’s beer or food?”
“I’ve no idea,” Sharp said. “Can we see his profile?”
Nicki nodded and pulled it up on her phone.
“Can you text me his profile pics and basic information?” Sharp asked.
“Sure.” Nicki used her thumbs. “His profile says he’s a thirty-year-old investment banker.”
Sharp’s phone dinged. He squinted at the screen. “How long has his profile been active?”
“Ten months,” Nicki said.
“Can I borrow your cheaters?” Sharp asked.
Olivia passed her reading glasses to him, and he put them on to scrutinize the data. “I’ll verify what I can.”
“Thank you.” Nicki set down her mug with a loud thunk.
Tea sloshed over the rim onto the recycled glass countertop.
“Oh, my God.” Her mouth gaped. She closed it and shut her eyes for a couple of seconds.
When she opened them, her gaze was filled with disbelief.
She rubbed her temples with both hands. “I can’t believe I forgot. ”
“Forgot what?” Olivia asked.
“I saw Dylan at the bar last night,” Nicki said.
“Dylan? Are you sure?” Olivia was stunned, but then again, was it really that shocking considering his behavior?
“I’m sure.” Nicki lowered her hands and curled them around her mug. “He was at the bar, and hitting up a woman about my age.”
“Did he see you?” Lincoln asked.
“I don’t think so.” Nicki shook her head. “He was focused on the woman.”
“Do you know if he left with her?”
“No idea,” Nicki said. “After I spotted him, I kept a big fern between us. After Cody arrived, I stopped watching Dylan.”
Olivia’s mind whirled. “He was drunk when I saw him yesterday.” She recounted her conversation with him from the day before. “I’ve never seen him behave like that.”
“But maybe Zoe had,” Nicki said.
“Sounds like there are two Dylans,” Lincoln added.
“In his defense, I would be upset if my spouse of nearly ten years kept major secrets from me, and then walked away without a word,” Olivia admitted.
“I can understand Dylan being angry and confused, but giving up on her already?” Lincoln shook his head.
“And not even trying to find her? The Run text message suggests she’s fleeing danger.
What if she left to protect herself—and not telling him was her way of protecting him? We don’t know who she’s running from.”
Nicki lifted her mug. “I doubt Dylan has the imagination to think of all those possibilities. Plus, his own insecurities are probably influencing his conclusions. When we worked on his fitness videos, he was very self-conscious about his body and face. His crow’s-feet really bothered him.
He blamed the lack of engagement on his videos on him not looking young enough.
He even joked that he should raise his age on his social media account to fifty-five.
Then people would be impressed by how he looked. ”
“So, he’d lie,” Olivia said.
“Grifters gonna grift.” Nicki shrugged. “People lie on social media all the time. Have you ever seen some woman with no body fat lifting weights, selling her exclusive fine-milled capybara collagen powder, and claiming to be sixty-five when she doesn’t look a day older than forty?”
“Yes,” Olivia admitted. She wasn’t immune to beauty and anti-aging ads. Who didn’t want to look younger? “You’re saying she probably isn’t a day older than forty.”
Nicki gave her a bingo look. “Also, she’s probably using special lighting and filters.”
“This is why I don’t do social media,” Lincoln said. “It’s a cesspool of disinformation.”
“Do you think Dylan is a social media grifter?” Olivia asked.
“No, but I think he’d like to be,” Nicki said.
“That makes sense,” Olivia said. “He’s frustrated that he isn’t making it big and is blaming Zoe for holding him back.
But how does this reflect on his relationship with Zoe?
Most people see them together and ask why he is with an older woman.
Even Billings suggested Dylan could get a much hotter wife. ”
Lincoln snorted. “Zoe is ten times smarter than him. Financially, I bet he needs her a lot more than she needs him. And he knows it.”
Nicki spun her mug. “He once complained that Zoe wouldn’t pay for Botox for him, but she’d gotten it for herself.”
“Zoe did Botox?” Olivia asked. “I’m not judging. Just surprised.”
“That’s what he said.” Nicki lifted a palm. “He implied she was to blame for his lack of success as an influencer.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes. “His career is in the crapper because he has the IQ of a beach ball.”
“True,” Nicki said. “But how does this help us figure out who drugged me? Cody didn’t have the opportunity. Why would anyone else give a strange woman a date-rape drug?”
Lincoln huffed. “Maybe it was an accident. Maybe whoever put the GHB in your beer thought it was meant for someone else. Lonely Chicken is pretty popular with the local set. I’m going to ask Tuckey to let me watch the surveillance tapes again.
Sometimes you need to view those multiple times before you see something that’s off.
Plus, he said he’s obtained additional footage.
He was going to take a look at the bartender and waiter as well.
” His phone buzzed and he glanced at it. “Tuckey wants to meet now.”
“Is that a good sign or a bad one?”
Lincoln set his glass in the dishwasher. “There’s only one way to find out.”