Unfortunately.

THERE MAY OR MAY NOT BE FOUL LANGUAGE OR OTHER QUESTIONABLE SOCIALLY RELATED THINGS IN THIS WRITING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! 8D

EPISODE 16 b

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Jeremy's tired red eyes latch onto the ragged old court summons sitting under a pile of chicken on his desk, and he can't help but heave a loud sigh. It seemed like so long ago. Myrle had been so happy too...it was bizarre, though it seemed like she barely missed her mother. Despite her young age, she seemed to know that Jenine was away, and not coming back any time soon. The mature child was perfectly accepting of that, and instead lavished her love on her father.

After his story, the men had been polite, courteous even, with his alibi corroborated by about thirty people, including all of those at the auction, his own daughter, and Chase. It was only then that they had finally told him why they had come, though, some roiling monster in his gut could guess what they were about to say.

Almost a full month ago, a naked body had been pulled out of a swamp in Florida. Florida, of all places. The woman had remained a Jane Doe for almost a week because of the tiny nature of the local police station and coroner, but had been identified through dental records, as none other than Jenine. What she had been doing in Florida, he had no idea, and who had killed her, he just couldn't even remotely guess. As the men in suits had told him, the evidence suggested that she had obviously been murdered, but they had no idea who, or why.

That was the moment when Jeremy pulled out the letter, remembering it for the first time. He explained that mail was often slow to arrive here, due to the rural nature of the place. He even pointed out the postage dates, and then showed them the letter. It made a terrible kind of sense, now that the fact that Jenine was dead had come to light. The letter was brief, reading simply, "2 MillIoNz, or ElZe" and gave an address from somewhere in Texas.

Someone had kidnapped Jenine, having most likely seen Jeremy and Jenine together on TV at some point, and had tried to ransom her. Jeremy had never answered back the letter, or phoned the number on it, so they had obviously dragged her off somewhere and killed her.

It still made him sick to his stomach...the tall man slugs back the foamy water, grimacing at the abhorrent taste of the fizzy tablets. He couldn't have done a thing to stop it, but it had happened. It was ridiculous, vile, and horribly traumatic to Myrle, but there was literally nothing to be done.

Crossing his arms on his desk, he leans his forehead down on top, breathing slowly and deeply, trying not to belch from the tablets. He refuses to even raise his head as he hears the lock on his office door jiggle, then a faint jingling of keys.

A moment later, the door pops open and the fetid stench roils out, making the white haired woman dart back outside, gasping for air. It doesn't take her long to return, one hand held over her mouth. With quick jerks of her fingers, she levers open the three windows in the room, ignoring the glare from Jeremy's bloodshot eyes as he stares at his aunt.

Finally, Lydia glances directly at him, eyes narrowed, "What the HELL is wrong wit' you, Boy? You tryin' to gas yerself? Smells like shit in here." She waves a hand in front of her face, and glares at him. Of course, Jeremy crumbles first, instead looking down at his desk with a slightly chastised look on his face.

"Sean, move it." Lydia snaps, and the big dark haired man comes in with a air freshener around his neck, moving over to grab Jeremy, and despite his squawking protestations, hauls him into a fireman carry and goes trotting out the door. Across the yard, and into the garage with one of the car washes.

Humming, Sean dumps Jeremy on the floor, the man too apathetic to even try getting up, before keying one of the water wands. A moment passes as he tests the water (on low pressure), and turns the spray on his friend, earning more than a few nasty curses and flailing protestations from him. That isn't the last of it, however, he keys the soap feature on one of the scrubbing brushes, and despite Jeremy's actual screams of discomfort, scrubs his boss with the soap and bristles. Adding insult to injury, Sean rinses him off with the wand again and sticks his own green tree air freshener around Jeremy's neck.

"They were out of New Car Smell, Dude. Sorry." The shorter man grins widely, and puts out a hand to help Jeremy to his feet, earning another swear and a soggy grasp on his hand. Dripping, Jeremy sighs, loudly, unbuttoning his shredded shirt to try and dry myself with a car towel. As he does this, Lydia appears out of one of the side doors, precisely at the same moment Sean conveniently disappears into a side door.

"He feels guilty, yanno. Bout Stevi and that piece of rat shit, Carter. Kind of a shit bodyguard, really." Lydia delicately takes a seat on a plastic covered palette of windshield wiper fluid. "So...why are yeh sulking like a child, Jeremy?"

Always to the point, Lydia is...Jeremy grimaces and scrubs the back of his neck with a hand. "Jenine is dead because of..." Lydia snorts, loud enough to interupt his self pity, "Bullshit, that. I saw the paper, I talked to those men. You had shit all to do with that girl being dead, J-Bear."

Jeremy blinks, she hadn't called him that in twenty years.

"If the kidnappers are too damned stupid not to send a letter by the fast way, it ain't yer fault that it got stuck, and the idiots killed her. That is all, ain't nothing else to it, so stop your damned stupid pity party, an' get yer head out of yer arse. Think about yer daughter, ya twit. Think about her." Lydia shakes her head, eyeing him sideways as he stands there dripping, and looking horrendous, tired and slightly ill.

"Git yer ass home, take a shower, a real one, shave, then go to bed." Lydia turns to leave, but Jeremy clears his throat, and licks his lips, grimacing as he says, "Aunt Lyds..."

The silvery haired woman glances over her shoulder at him as she pauses at the door, her hand on the door frame. "What?"

Jeremy sighs, glancing at her, "Did you seriously...? I mean, Come on...its Craig...Jess and him...I heard, maybe Cadence and Rosa..." He shrugs, looking horribly uncomfortable.

Lydia's answering grin does nothing to help the sudden increase in his heart burn, "Why the hell not? I aint' dead yet. Gotta get the sex where I can get it." That said, the woman turns, disappearing out the door, and leaving Jeremy with a thoroughly horrified look on his face.

Now he has a brand new horrible mental image to wrestle with. Oh Goody.