Then Comes Marriage (2 page)

I finish my glass of wine when Travis comes down the stairs. He plops next to me on the couch, hand landing on my thigh. I turn, looking into his brown eyes, and smile.
 

“Ready to hit the town?” I ask.

“We could stay in tonight.”
 

I wrinkle my nose. “You promised me we’d go to dinner and then walk through the antique market.”
 

Travis sighs. “I’m tired, babe. And the antique market, really? I don’t want you filling the house with old crap.”

“I won’t fill the house with old crap. I mostly like to look for jewelry and think of reasons why people had to part with their treasures, you know that.”
 

“It’s still crap, not treasures. That’s why they got rid of it,” he huffs. “We’ll go another day. I’m wiped out from work.”
 

“I got all dressed up,” I try one last time. “We can just do dinner then. Stacks has karaoke tonight.”

“You’re not a singer,” he reminds me.

“Not professionally, but I can carry a decent tune. It’ll be fun!”
 

“Rach, I’m saying this out of love. No karaoke. Save yourself the embarrassment.”
 

I bite my tongue, not in the mood for an argument right now. “If you’re that tired, we can stay in and order something for dinner.”
 

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t. But since we’re not going out, I’m putting my leggings back on.”
 

Travis slaps my rear when I stand. I dash up the stairs, coming down to find Travis holding my phone, brow furrowed.
 

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t tell Lauren or text me about this. I don’t want to risk her finding out,” Travis reads. “What the hell, Rachel?”

“Oh please,” I say and roll my eyes. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
 

“Well what the hell else should I be doing right now?”

“Open the rest of the conversation.” I give Travis a few seconds, watching his face relax. “You seriously think I’d cheat on you with Lauren’s boyfriend?”

He looks up from the phone, eyes wide. “Of course not.”
 

“Good. And besides, when would I have time?” I joke. “I’m always at work.”
 

Travis pulls me in, pressing his lips to mine. His hands slip down to my waist and he brings me down on the couch with him. Maybe a night in won’t be so bad after all.

Chapter Two

Derek

The world is damned.
 

Completely and utterly damned, and we’re going down with it.
 

I turn my head and inhale slowly, searching for the quiet whisper of fresh air seeping through the cracks in the walls of this abandoned house. The smell of mold mixes with decaying flesh. Early morning sunlight filters through the hole in the water-damaged roof, heating up this shack like an oven. I swat away a fly and take a step back, maggots crunching under foot.
 

What a shitty way to die.
 

“Bullet to the head, close range,” the medical examiner tells me. She pulls a thermometer out of the corpse’s liver and shakes her head. “It’s so damn hot in here this can’t be accurate. He’s been here at least two days.”
 

I make a note of that and turn, looking at the shithole this guy called home. By the looks of it, he’d been camped out for a couple of weeks.
 

“Look at this,” I say to my partner, Andy. He’s older, closing in on retirement, but a damn good detective and has taught me a lot since I’ve been working homicide cases. “Two beds.”
 

“You call that a bed?” Andy grunts. “My dog sleeps on something more substantial than that.” He shakes his head and looks away. Tough and weathered on the outside, like anyone is after investigating murders for two decades, things like this still get to him. Andy would kill me if I ever said anything, so I keep my mouth shut. And he knows not to say anything to me either.
 

Because it gets to me too.
 

“If we can find the roommate, maybe we can get a lead,” I continue. “If he’s still alive.”
 

Andy nods, catching a drip of sweat with his handkerchief. “Start with the nearest shelter.”
 

“Let’s go,” I say and lead the way out of the small house. A soft breeze hits my hot skin, and the smell of car exhaust is heavenly compared to the rotting smell of death.
 

“I’m guessing you skipped breakfast too,” Andy says, getting into the passenger side of our unmarked squad car.
 

I turn the key and blast the air conditioning. “You’re seriously thinking about food right now?”

He pats his middle. “Iron stomach, kid. Nothing takes away my appetite. Gotta fuel the fire.”
 

I smirk and shake my head. “Unbelievable, man.” The smell of death clings to me for the next few miles. By the time we arrive at Susie’s Cafe, I have to agree with Andy that breakfast sounds good.
 

“I heard you had one hell of a weekend,” Andy starts, opening his menu. It’s a fake gesture: he orders the same thing every damn time we come here. “Full of fun times and hot women.”
 

I lift my head, looking away from my own menu that I don’t need either. Nine times out of ten, I get the same thing too. “Oh yeah. I’m still recovering from all the fun I had,” I say, though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. I don’t remember the last time I did something that I deemed fun.
 

Andy sets the menu down and gives me a look, one I’ve seen a time or two before. Fatherly concern. “You can take a day off, kid.”
 

“Not until this killer is caught.” We’ve found two—now three—bodies over the last three weeks. All homeless. All killed execution style. I know a press conference is coming soon, and the media will be all over a potential serial killer unless we can prove the deaths are drug or gang related.

“And what was your excuse before that?”
 

I shake my head, pretending to look over the menu again. “Just doing my job. No rest for the wicked and all.”
 

Andy just grunts in response, not able to drill me further when April, the waitress, comes over.
 

“You two are here early,” she says, not bothering to get out her notepad to write down our order. Okay, okay. We’re both predicable. “Work get you up?”

“The dead don’t sleep,” Andy says.
 

April turns to me, smiling. “No, I guess they don’t. You need a night off.”
 

“That’s what I was just telling the kid,” Andy tells her and raises his eyebrows at me. “I don’t think he knows how to have fun. Maybe you should show him.”
 

“Well, a few of us from school are going to a concert Thursday…” she starts, biting her lip. “You’re welcome to join.”
 

“Hear that, Derek?” Andy quips. I want to kick him under the table. April hits on me from time to time. She’s a good looking girl, in her final year of college. I’m sure she
would
be fun. A lot of things that used to be fun just aren’t anymore. The thought of no-strings sex is appealing, but I can’t. Not yet. The wound might have scabbed over at the surface, but the hurt still runs deep.
 

I’m not interested in a one-night stand.

I have nothing to give, and I’m not that kind of guy.
 

“I’ll have fun when we solve this case,” I say in a level voice.

April blushes, takes our order, and walks away, looking back over her shoulder at me twice.
 

“When I was your age,” Andy starts, “I would have been all over that.” He watches April go into the kitchen.
 

“I don’t have time.” It’s my go-to response. The reason I don’t play football with my friends on Saturday mornings anymore. Why I stopped showing up to family dinners at my mom’s. My reason for shutting everyone out. Coincidentally, I started not having time when my life freed up.

Andy lets out a breath. “Listen kid, you’re a damn good detective, but this much time around death and violence…it wears on you. You haven’t taken any of your vacation time, and you come in on your days off.”
 

“Too much crime,” I mutter. “No rest for the wicked, remember?”

“All the shit we deal with ain’t natural. You need to step back, clear your head now and then.”
 

I wave my hand in the air. “I’m fine.”
 

“Sure. Sure you are.”
 

April brings us coffee, and thankfully the conversation turns to work. How pathetic is it that I’d rather talk murder than my personal life?

Chapter Three

Rachel

“Don’t stress,” I say into the phone, even though I’m stressing myself. I close eyes and take a steadying breath. My shift ends in twenty minutes, but I apparently won’t be leaving when the clock hits seven, which causes stress because I’m supposed to go straight to the wellness clinic after work. And I don’t want to be here a minute longer than I’m scheduled to be.
 

“I’m not just stressing, Rach. I’m freaking out,” Heather says, voice breaking. “I just got another hospital bill. I can’t afford to miss a day.”
 

“If we could get someone to cover the unit for an hour, I’ll come get you,” I offer, feeling bad for Heather. She’s supposed to come in as my relief, but couldn’t get her car to start.

“Thanks, but we both know how that’s going to go.”
 

“Right,” I say. “There’s no point in asking MaryAnne.”
 

“Hah, no point at all.”
 

Our boss, MaryAnne, lives only a few minutes from work but I already know she won’t come in just for a hour. Saying she’s mean is an understatement. She’s a nurse, but doesn’t give a shit about anyone’s wellbeing. Well, she cares about her own. She’s a horrible person to hold power in a healthcare facility since she’ll do what benefits her before it benefits the patients. Especially where money is concerned. Because going to Disney World for the second time this year is more important than keeping our supply room stocked. More important and totally ethical. I so wish there was a way I could prove this shit to the Health Department and get her fired.

“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” Heather sighs.
 

“Don’t worry about it. You got enough going on right now. And let me know if you need a ride later this week, okay?”

“I will, thank you. You’re a good person.”
 

I shrug, forgetting she can’t see me over the phone. “Thanks. Take care, hun.”
 

“You too. Bye Rach.”
 

I call Travis to let him know I won’t be home until three this afternoon, hanging up with a dramatic sigh.
I love being a nurse … I love being a nurse …
I’ve been volunteering at a wellness clinic for the homeless every Sunday morning for the last few months, and have to call the head of the committee to say I won’t be able to go. Then I check on my patients and do a bit of charting before starting morning meds. Once that is done, I take a mini break so I can go across the street and get something to eat. Still feeling stressed, I throw my strict wedding diet out the window and order chicken strips, fries, a large Coke, and a chocolate sundae. At nine in the morning. Fuck it. One meal won’t make my dress not fit. Or at least, I hope not.
 

I sit outside the nursing home in a small courtyard, swatting bugs and trying to enjoy the heat of the morning. It’s not warm like this in the spring in Michigan. I polish off every last bite and stand, hating myself just a bit. I brush crumbs off my pink scrubs and head back inside.
 

I’m changing a wound dressing on a patient’s foot when Heather comes up behind me.
 

“Surprise,” she says with a grin. “I got my mom to lend me her car. You can go home.”
 

I grin right back at her. “You have no idea how much I want to hug you right now.”
 

Heather laughs and looks down at the weeping cellulitis I’m treating. “Take off the gloves first.”
 

“Deal. But seriously. I am so relieved to see you.”
 

“Girl, I know how it feels to be stuck. Get your ass home.”
 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
 

~*~

Oh, fuck.

Three cop cars with their lights flashing surround the small medical clinic next to the homeless shelter. I almost went home after leaving work, but something inside of me made me turn around and see if there was anything I could help with.
 

Apparently, there is.
 

I park in the first spot I can find, and rush into the clinic. A handful of people are gathered in the tiny waiting area, whispering and watching whatever is going down in the back. I weave through and find Nancy Newman—who is as pretentious as her name sounds—talking to a police officer while two others stand by Matt Gonzales. Matt is a regular here at the clinic and the shelter. He’s the same age as my brother, and he holds a place in my heart. Also like my brother, Matt returned from Afghanistan haunted by the war. But unlike my brother, Matt didn’t get the help he needed. Unable to hold a job, Matt fell victim to the government he once served.

“What’s going on?” I ask Dr. Ray, who is standing beside Nancy shaking his head.
 

Nancy turns to me, nose already in the air. “I caught him trying to steal drugs.”
 

I raise an eyebrow. “Matt, stealing drugs?”
 

Dr. Ray shakes his head. “I didn’t see anything, and nothing is missing.”

“That’s because I stopped it in time,” Nancy announces, so pleased with herself. “And called the cops before
he
could take anymore.” She stares at Matt as she speaks, sneering at him. She thinks he’s less of a person due to circumstance.
 

“I didn’t steal anything!” Matt says, risking a glance at me. He’s embarrassed to be getting this attention and his expression is pained. It hurts my heart watching this.