by Ella Goode
I’m not sure what has changed but whatever it is, I hope it stays this way. It’s made me feel closer to Lucas, which I didn’t think was possible. Our bond has always been strong but this has made it even stronger.
I’ve always loved Lucas. From the moment I met him he’s been my everything. I didn't know I could fall more in love with him but with each day I find that I do. I feel closer to him now than ever. He has pulled something out from inside of me that I didn't know was there. He’s proven to me that he really will do anything to make me happy.
You belong to me. I own you.
My nipples harden, thinking about those words he’d said to me. I do belong to him but hearing him say it awakened something deep within me. Seeing the look in his eyes as he uttered those words of possession had my whole world feeling as though it had tipped over.
To me they were as sweet as when he’d first told me he loved me. They were just as special as when he’d said I do and we vowed to spend our lives together. Some people may not understand it, but that’s how I feel about him claiming me.
I turn from the window, heading for the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. I am never going to get this hat done if I don't start working on it. Winter will be over before Lucas even gets a chance to wear it. That is probably for the best. Knowing my husband he’d still wear it even if it looks horrible. He’d smile, give me a kiss and wear it until it fell apart, which I’m sure wouldn’t take long, due to my lack of hat making skills.
Adding more marshmallow to the top of my hot chocolate, I head to the living room to sit in Lucas’ recliner while I knit. A knock at the door has me turning to look at the clock. It’s pretty late for someone to be visiting. My sister would have called if she was on her way over. My heart drops as I rush to the door.
My husband isn’t a cop but sometimes things go bad at a crime scene. People are crazy and you never know what could happen. Worry fills my stomach as my pace picks up. I fling open the door to see Detectives Lee and Sanchez standing there.
“What happened? Where is Lucas?” My eyes fill with tears. “Is he okay?”
“Ma’am.” Lee looks at me with a perplexed look.
“Lucas is fine.” Sanchez elbows Lee. “She thinks something happened to her husband. Two cops at your door late at night is never a good sign.”
“Oh. Sorry Mrs. Calvery. I’m sure Lucas is fine. We actually are here to talk to you.”
“You know you can call me Angel.” I wipe my eyes, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. I’ve never thought about losing Lucas before. I’m not sure that is something I could handle or want to think about. There is so much bad in the world that Lucas is the one person that I can always count on to put a smile on my face at the end of a shitty day.
“Angel.” Lee nods. “Can we have a moment of your time?”
“Of course.” I step back, opening the door. “Can you guys do me a favor and not tell Lucas that I opened the door without looking?” I tease. Well, it’s kind of a tease. He’d redden my ass if he knew that I randomly opened the door without identifying who was on the other side first. He’s always so worried about my safety. “Actually you can tell him.” Lee gives me another one of those perplexed looks.
“Coffee.” I change the subject as I open the door wider, motioning for them to come into the living room. They follow behind me, closing the door behind them.
“No thanks, Angel.” Sanchez looks around our home, her eyes scanning the place. “Nice place you have here.” It is a very nice place. Lucas is good with money. The man is good at anything he puts his mind to.
“Thank you.” I take a seat on the edge of the recliner. Both of them sit on the sofa facing me.
“Where is the doc?” Lee looks around. I start to say at work but wouldn't they know that? Maybe not.
“He stepped out for a moment.” I fold my hands into my lap.
“Chad Dering,” Sanchez finally says. I cringe at the man’s name. Of course that’s why they’re here. My husband assaulted him in a parking lot full of cameras. Would it really be considered assault? I had been frightened. Chad had basically been holding me against my will. He wouldn't move out of my way. If you ask me, he had it coming. I’m not so sure the laws would agree with me. I am finding that I don’t agree with a lot of them myself anymore either.
“I’m sorry, Angel, but I’ve got to ask.” I try not to fidget with my fingers. I can tell both detectives look as uncomfortable about this as me. “Has Chad ever made you feel uncomfortable?”
I lick my lips wondering why they aren't asking about the parking lot. They might be working their way into it. The thought of me needing a lawyer crosses my mind.
“Why would you ask me that?” I try and dodge the question with one of my own.
“To be frank with you, we’ve been looking into Chad. It’s come up that some people think he has a thing for you. They’ve noticed some weird behavior on his part when it pertains to you.”
“Did Chad do something wrong?” I try not to sound too hopeful. The man should be behind bars. I don’t know why but I’m sure he’s done something. He is so unsettling. The way he cornered me against my car.
“We can’t really discuss that.” Sanchez shrugs, looking apologetic. I tell them the truth. About Chad seeming to be everywhere that I was. That he offered me a job that I turned down. The way that he’d cornered me in the parking lot. I tell them everything except the part about Lucas throwing Chad into his car. I don’t tell them that. I don’t lie, I just conveniently leave that part out.
“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Lee asks. I hate this. I don’t want to get Lucas in trouble, but I can’t tell how much they know.
“To be honest I don’t really want to talk about this without Lucas.” I drop my head, looking down at my hands, pretending to be shy and scared about all of this.
“I understand.” Sanchez stands. Lee follows suit.
“Thank you for your time.” Lee nods to me. I lead them to the door, saying goodbye and locking it behind them. I lean up against it wondering when Lucas will be home. I don't even know where he is and based on my conversation with Detectives Sanchez and Lee, they don’t either.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucas
Lee and Sanchez are in the examination room when I arrive. Sanchez is sprawled on my chair, toying with my mouse and Lee is spinning on one of the rolling stools. Since Angel told me that they stopped by, I knew they would be coming. I wasn’t sure what angle they were going to take. Are they accusing me or concerned about my wife?
“I heard you had a run-in with Dering the other day. Want to tell us about it?” Chavez says, not even waiting for me to hang up my coat.
“He was in my wife’s space and didn’t need to be.” I place my leather jacket on the hook and shrug on my lab coat.
“You hit him.”
“You’re free to book me on assault.” The inventory of bodies appears to have increased by two overnight. The new additions are elderly, arrivals from the Good Life retirement home. I’ll have the intern work on these since there’s a car accident victim that needs to be completed.
“It’s not a good look for the county coroner to be attacking a prominent defense attorney. It could be brought up during cross-examination and make you look less impartial.” Sanchez is stalling. She’s not literally wringing her hands, but she doesn’t like being here and asking questions of me. But she brings up a valid concern. I hadn’t thought of it and I admit that. “I wasn’t thinking of anything but that my wife was being harassed. Should that be brought up in court, too?”
Sanchez grimaces. “Look, I don’t want to ask—“
“We don’t want to ask,” Lee interjects. He leans forward, placing his hands on his knees. “But we have to.”
“Or we wouldn’t be good detectives,” adds Sanchez.
I pull the car victim out of the cooler. Sanchez and Lee both turn away as the smell escapes the sealed unit.
Lee puts a finger against his nose, but Sanchez braves the smell. “The thing is while a number of the victims were represented by Dering, he’s not a surgeon. Based on statements from his housekeeper, Dering can’t wield a butter knife, let alone one of these.” She holds up a scalpel.
“I’m very good with the scalpel.” In another life, maybe I would’ve been a surgeon, but I chose this route instead. It’s the best of both worlds. I get to avoid the pesky practice of dealing with live humans and I can wield my blade.
“Yeah, you are.” Lee’s head jerks up. “Wait, are you confessing?”
“To being good with the knife?” I reach over and pluck the scalpel out of Sanchez’s hands and drop it onto a tray of used instruments ready for sterilization. “It would be foolish for me to lie about that. You’ve watched me work.”
“Yeah.” The two detectives engage in an unspoken battle as to who will ask me the most uncomfortable question. Lee loses.
He sighs and steeples his fingers together. “The other night after the acquittal of Mr. Washington, you weren’t home. Where were you?”
I unzip the body bag, trying to act as natural as possible. They hadn’t asked this question, not specifically, of Angel. Maybe they wanted to but knew she’d refuse to discuss me without being present so they didn’t know what story I’d told her—that I’d been out of town to do an autopsy on another body.
It wasn’t technically a lie. I had been working on another body, just not out of town.
“Am I to account for every night or just the one of Mr. Washington’s death?”
“Every night that a victim died would be great,” Sanchez says. I don’t know if she’s serious or sarcastic.
“I’ll look at the calendar and get back to you.” It looks like I’ll have to pay a visit to Chad earlier than I thought. My calendar is not something that I care to share with the two detectives.
“Great. When should we expect it?”
“Tomorrow.” They both look surprised. “It’s on the computer. It won’t be hard to print it out.”
“Right. Sounds great.” Sanchez gets to her feet with enough carelessness that the chair knocks against the desk and the monitor flickers on. She taps her fingers on the wooden top. “Care to print it out now?”
There’s a hint of challenge in her voice, as if she thinks I won’t. I abandon the body and walk to the computer. She watches as I type in my password, which I’ll change when they leave. Lee crowds me from the other side.
“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner before I’m fucked,” I say as I print out my calendar for the last month.
“I’ll bring you a sandwich for lunch.” Sanchez snatches the paper from the printer. “Thanks for this. We’ll get you cleared from our suspect list as soon as possible, Doc.”
“I’ll be on tenterhooks until you do.” I rise and lean against my desk, looking as unconcerned as possible.
The moment the door shuts, I text Angel. Lee and Sanchez have asked me for an alibi for Washington’s death. I printed out my calendar.
Her: Who cares how he died? He was awful. He killed his wife. I can’t believe he got off!
My fingers hover over the screen. Sometimes I think Angel is as bloodthirsty as me. There is a feralness to her, particularly in bed. She wants me to be brutal with her, to face fuck her until her tears come or to jack into her tight pussy until she’s screaming. Enjoying a little spice in the bedroom isn’t the same as sanctioning murder. Academically, she probably does like the idea of justice coming to Washington’s door. On the other hand, she doesn’t want her husband to be dirtying his hands in that mess.
Lee and Sanchez care, I type.
That’s their job. Not mine. Anyway, can I call you?
I dial her immediately. “What is it? Dering?”
“No. No,” she reassures me. “My sister wants me to stay over tonight. I know it’s out of the blue, but she said she’s feeling down and wants some company.”
“If she needs you, you should go but I’ll miss you. I don’t like sleeping alone.”
“I’ll miss you too. I promise to make it up to you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late, though, okay? I’ll worry about you.”
“I’ll be in bed with my hand on my dick, waiting for your return.”
She laughs. “Okay. I like that thought. It’ll be a nice image tonight.”
“Call me or text me. Anytime.”
“I will. Love you Lucas.”
“I love you, too.” I toss the phone into my pocket. The timing is perfect. Almost too perfect if Angel knew the things I did. But I can’t dwell on it. Tonight will be the night that Chad Dering kills himself...with a little assist from me.
Chapter Twenty
Angel
“I’m thinking about quitting my job.” Gina looks up at me from the kitchen island where she is sitting. Knitting supplies are taking up most of the space, giving me little room to make the triple chocolate cake she requested.
I knew when she called and told me that she was craving it that she must have had a horrible date the night before. My sister has the worst luck with men. She always jokes and says that I used all of it up when I’d met Lucas. Not leaving any behind for her.
I jumped at the chance to come over to spend time with her tonight. Not that I wouldn't have come whenever she asked, but I pushed to stay the night this time.
My husband is up to something. I can feel it. I have no clue what it is, but I can’t ignore this feeling. I don’t know for sure but I also don’t want him lying to me. Ignorance is often bliss.
When it comes to Lucas, I don’t mind being a bit ignorant because whatever it is that’s going on, I trust in what he’s doing. If he wanted to tell me then he would. If he’s not telling me it’s for good reason and what he thinks is for the best.
“I thought you loved your job?” She puts her knitting needles down, taking a sip from the hot chocolate I made her.
“For so long, I believed that the law always made things right. That it gave justice to the victims that had been wronged. That following it is crucial to having a good society. But lately, I’m just not so sure that I agree with that anymore.”
Court sucked today. I watched as a woman had to plead for a restraining order on her abusive boyfriend. I mean he’d threatened to kill her, yet I watched the judge waver on whether or not she should give it to her.
My blood started to boil watching everything unfold. Finally they gave it to her. Still, what is the woman going to do when her crazy boyfriend shows up at her home again? Throw the paper at him? It is all a bunch of bullshit and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it anymore.
I know there is nothing that I could do about it. It was my job to sit there and account for every word that was said. My opinions and thoughts don’t matter. It has become very wearing on me. I don’t leave my job at the door. It comes home with me.
“I’m going to tell you something Dad once told me.” I put the chocolate-covered spatula down. I’m going to need more frosting. “Just because something is a law or the norm for other people it doesn't mean you have to abide by those rules. Sure you could get in trouble if you broke some of them. But it doesn't mean you have to believe in them. There is nothing wrong with that. You didn't make those rules. Someone else did. You set your own moral compass, Angel. No one else.”
I walk over to the pantry, grabbing another thing of frosting and thinking over her words. I’ve never thought about it like that before.
“So I’m not terrible for being happy when someone dies that I believe was a horrible person?”
“No, I have a few exes that I wouldn't mind if they kicked the bucket,” she jokes, going back to knitting.
A lot of people that have graced my courtroom have gone missing or ended up dead. I thought it was the world's way of fixing the wrong that the system didn't get right. Nothing is a coincidence. How many times has my own husband told me that? How many times did he have to leave in the middle of the night?
I sh
ake the thoughts from my head. It is his job. Of course he gets called away in the middle of the night. Death happens at all hours of the day. The bigger question is why doesn't it bother me to think that my husband might be up to something other than work?
If I know anything about Lucas it’s that he hates when I’m upset. If something is bothering me that man makes it his mission to fix it. He loves me more than anything. I’ve never doubted that.
Something in our relationship has changed in the past few months. A deeper connection has been growing. Both of us have been showing sides of ourselves to one another that we had kept locked away deep down inside of us.
“You’ve got to let me set you up with someone. You clearly have the worst taste in men.”
“I think I’m going to give up. You’ll have to be the one to give our parents grandbabies. I bet I’ll be a kickass aunt anyways.”
I finish frosting the cake. “You’re going to let me set you up with someone.”
“You had an even worse dating history than me before Lucas came along,” she reminds me. I cringe thinking about it. I don’t blame her. Before Lucas I’d given up on dating, too.
“Yes, but right before I found Lucas I, too, was going to quit the whole dating thing. Now look at me.” I smile. I might not be happy with my job at the moment but the one thing I know I’ll never waver on is my love for Lucas. That man is my everything. He can do no wrong and even if he did, it would be because he had just reason in doing so.
“So maybe that’s the key. I should stop looking.” I grab a plate, cutting her a piece of cake before getting myself one. I needed this tonight. Some girl time with her. Even though I tell Lucas everything, I didn’t want to worry him about how unhappy I’ve been at work.
“I could ask Lucas. He might have someone in mind for you.”
