Page 32 of Liar's Point

Emmet kept his expression neutral. He hadn’t known about Lainey either.

“Kind of odd for her to work in a sports bar, don’t you think? I mean, if she’s a recovering alcoholic.”

“Not really. I’ve been doing it for years.” Lainey sat forward and rested her arms on the desk. “I saw her at meetings occasionally. But she seemed to have her shit together, you know? She was a hard worker. Always got here on time. Another thing—she’d asked me for a raise recently.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I gave it to her. This was just last week.” Lainey shook her head. “I didn’t get the sense that she was in any kind of dark place where she might kill herself.”

“Would you say you were close with her?”

“No. But I’ve been running a bar for ten years. You get good at reading people.”

The cell phone on the desk chimed, and Lainey picked it up. She checked the screen and flipped it back over.

Emmet stood up. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

She pushed her chair back and stood. “Wish I could help more. I don’t know much about Aubrey’s background. She’d only been here eight months. I’ll talk to the staff, though.”

“Thanks.” He reached for the door. “One more question. You have anyone working here named Sam?”

“Male or female?”

“Male.”

“Nope. We had a Samantha last summer, but she went back to college in the fall.”

Emmet pulled open the door and Lainey came around to stand beside him. “So, you’re still investigating? Does that mean it might not be a suicide?”

“I can’t comment.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Of course you can’t.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, you want my two cents’ worth?” She put her hand on her hip and tipped her head to the side. “I don’t believe Aubrey Lambert took her own life. Maybe she accidentally ODed or something, but I don’t think she intentionally killed herself.”

“No?”

“No. Not that you asked me, but like I said, I’m good at reading people.”

He pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “My mobile’s on the back there. Give me a call if you think of anything I might want to know.”

“Sure.” She tucked the card in her pocket, then folded her arms over her chest, giving him a view of her cleavage.

“Thanks for your time,” he said.

“Of course.”

He stepped away.

“Hey, Emmet.”

He turned back, and she smiled slyly.

“You know, I’m sure single moms are your kryptonite. But you could call me sometime, too. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

He smiled. “Thanks again, Lainey. You take care.”

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