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“She did last week,” Salvador says.
“And don’t you find that… strange?”
“Should I?”
“You saw her that day when we all went over there.”
“We all did,” Simon says. “What’s your point, JJ?”
“Elaine believed that Dr. Danvers violated her,” JJ says. “And she was absolutely determined to expose her. Obsessed! And that’s the day she chooses to switch to needles?”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Salvador says.
“How?” JJ demands.
“The stress must’ve gotten to her. Triggered her. Made her fall back on the opioids. Maybe, Elaine couldn’t get her hands on any pills and had no choice but to inject?”
JJ shakes her head obstinately, like a child refusing to obey a parent. “And where would she get the fentanyl if she couldn’t find pills?”
“Any street corner?” Salvador says. “Fentanyl is everywhere.”
JJ squints at Salvador. “Does that make sense to you? Elaine buys fentanyl—for the first time ever—on the same day she was planning to expose Dr. Danvers?”
Simon has never seen JJ looking this out of sorts. Not even the evening she stormed out of his home, red-faced and indignant. It’s as if she’s scared. “Hang on!” He slaps the table. “Are you suggesting Dr. D silenced Elaine?”
“No, no, no. Not at all!” JJ looks frantically from Simon to Salvador and back. “But don’t you think Elaine’s death looks suspicious?”
Simon bristles. “No. It looks fucking pathetic and predictable.”
CHAPTER 17
Friday, April 12
“One point six million,” Baljit says. “That’s the most I’ve ever lost in one sitting.”
“At a casino?” Holly asks incredulously.
Baljit nods. Wearing a gray blazer, skirt, and Jimmy Choo pumps, she sits in the matching chair across from Holly with her legs crossed, the epitome of a chic executive. “A craps table. In fucking Macau, of all places!”
“But it didn’t wipe you out, did it?”
“Nope. Neither did the other ten or twelve mill I’ve shit away over the past few years in casinos. Then again, business is good,” Baljit says in embarrassment. “And my father has deep pockets.”
“Your dad covered your losses?”
Baljit fingers the pendant on her necklace. “A few times. When I wasn’t quite liquid enough.”
“Your father sounds devoted.”
Baljit snorts.
“What does that mean?”
Baljit rubs the slight crease between her eyebrows as if trying to flatten it. “Sikhism is a relatively progressive culture and religion. All about egalitarianism. There isn’t supposed to be a distinction between men and women within the gurdwara—the community.”
“But your father isn’t so egalitarian?”
“My father puts the capital T in toxic masculinity.”
