by Cade Brogan
“Honestly?” Rylee said. “Because we’re hoping that in talking with you about your discovery, we’ll learn something about the person who’d use a virus to kill people.”
“So, you believe your killer’s a virologist?” Addison responded, lifting an eyebrow. “And you think we’re all alike?”
“No, nothing like that,” Rylee said, “it’s just a place to start.”
“And right now,” Claire added, “we need a place to start.”
“I don’t usually talk about those days,” Addison responded. “Those days when I was a whole person, a person with a real life, and a satisfying career.” She took a breath, releasing it as her gaze drifted out the window. “But if you believe that it’ll help, that by doing so, it might help you catch your killer, I will.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rylee forked a meatball, eating it whole. “My new partner, I just don’t know about her. One minute I think she’s okay, that she’s gonna work out. I mean, she’s not Rich, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders. And the next, I get this feeling I can’t trust her. I mean, every time I turn around, she’s lying to me about something.” She twirled a fork-load of spaghetti, pausing to finish her sentence before putting it into her mouth. “Lying to me about stuff not worth lying about.”
“Like what?” Kenzie asked, turning from the stove with two slices of garlic toast.
“Like whether or not she has a girlfriend,” Rylee answered. “Stupid stuff.”
“Maybe she’s not gay,” Kenzie said.” Or maybe she’s closeted.”
“Yeah,” Rylee responded, “you’d think that, except she’s not hiding the girlfriend part, just whether the woman’s an ex or a current interest.”
“Does it really matter?” Kenzie asked, dropping ice cubes into Rylee’s Sprite. “Whether she admits she has a girlfriend or not?”
“No, of course, it doesn’t,” Rylee answered, dipping a ladle of Caesar dressing onto her salad, “but being honest does. I have to be able to trust her, to know she’s got my back in case I get in a pinch. Especially now, with everything that’s going on. If she lies to me about nonsense, how can I be sure she’ll come through when the going gets tough?” She took a long drink, missing Rich as her partner. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice lowering. “It’s late, and I’m rambling. You talk.”
“You’re not rambling,” Kenzie said softly. “I love hearing about your day.” She reached over, touching her arm. “And I’m interested in what you think about your new partner. You should bring her home sometime.”
“Yeah, sometime,” Rylee responded, thinking that wouldn’t happen for a long while. “So, where’s Abby?” she asked, changing the subject. She’d noticed that their house was silent—no drums, no TV, and no music blasting through the walls. “Did she turn in early or something?”
“I have no idea,” Kenzie answered. “It seems that picking her up ahead of schedule, like you suggested, ruined some big plan she had with Piper. She said they were going to the mall and lunch, but I doubt it.” She pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly. “Because she had that look she gets when she’s lying to me. Anyway, she was furious, and when we got home she marched straight upstairs, slammed her door hard enough to shake the crystal in my curio cabinet, and for the entire day, I haven’t heard much more than a peep out of her.” She poked her tongue into her cheek. “I’d have worried that she might not be alright had she not slipped down to leave dirty dishes on the counter.”
“I hope you didn’t wash ‘em for her,” Rylee responded, “because if she’s gonna act like that, she can damn well wash her own, and do her own laundry for that matter.”
“I washed ‘em,” Kenzie said, curling her lip in disgust with her own behavior.
Rylee looked at her, her tone softening. “She knows how far she can push you, knows just what she can get away with, you know.”
“I know,” Kenzie responded quietly. “It’s been that way for a long time. I start out being firm, but always end up caving-in to whatever she wants, letting her get away with that attitude she’s got.” She sighed. “Every single time, over-and-over. I need to pay more attention to how you handle her.”
Rylee kissed her forehead, thinking it was time for she and Abby to have another chat. “She’s the one who needs to pay attention, the one who needs to get a handle on her mouth and show her mother a little respect.” She pushed that problem out of mind, deciding to deal with it later. “So, did you talk with her about what’s going on,” she asked, “about how important it is for you two to stay out of public places?”
“I tried,” Kenzie responded, “but she put her earbuds in and turned up the volume.”
Rylee’s jaw tightened, taking a breath.
“I tried, but not that hard,” Kenzie added. “I thought she might’ve heard the news, thought maybe she was scared.” She swallowed. “Scared, like I am.”
“Nothing bad is gonna happen,” Rylee promised, stroking her cheek, the color of brown sugar, with the back of her hand. “You two stay inside, away from people for a few days, and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not just scared for us,” Kenzie responded, her eyes glistening.
“Hey,” Rylee whispered, kissing her forehead. “My suit’s airtight. Nothing’s gonna get in.”
“I know that’s the way it’s supposed to work,” Kenzie responded, positioning a bowl on the lower shelf of the dishwasher. “But what if something goes wrong?” She swallowed again. “I mean, you investigate homicides, and this crazy virus case, it’s yours. I can’t help but worry about you. I can’t help but worry that you’ll go out, thinking you’re safe when you’re not.”
“But see, here’s the thing,” Rylee soothed, banishing disturbing reality from her mind, “you have to trust that I know what I’m doing, that I’ll always be careful, that I won’t just stumble out and get exposed.” She gathered her into her arms. “You have to trust that I’m not gonna let anything get in the way of us getting married, of the three of us being a family.” She checked her watch, smiling softly. “In twenty-eight days, nineteen hours, and…seven minutes.”
“I love you, Rye,” Kenzie murmured. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you,” Rylee responded, closing her eyes as her lips touched her neck. “I love you more than life itself.”
*
Claire opened the door, expecting her place to be dark, surprised to find her kitchen light on. She’d come home midday to grab a sandwich, take a double dose of cramp medication, and slide in a super-sized tampon. Must’ve been out of it when I left, she thought. “I’m home, little buddy,” she called out. “Come on, Mama’s had a long day, let’s go potty.”
“He’s in his crate,” Elizabeth said curtly, stepping out of the bedroom in her bathrobe.
Claire cocked her head. “I thought you were gone until Friday.”
“I finished ahead of schedule,” Elizabeth responded. “When you weren’t here by seven, I figured you wouldn’t be home tonight.”
“Of course, I’d be home,” Claire said, “where else would I go?”
“You tell me,” Elizabeth sneered. “I’m sure you have women at the office who’d like to go to bed with you.”
“Oh, please,” Claire muttered, walking off. “Not that again.”
“Well, what am I supposed to think?” Elizabeth continued, following her. “When you drag in at all hours?”
“Oh, maybe that I was working,” Claire responded. “How about we try that one once in a while?” She shook her head slowly, closing the distance between their bodies. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re all the woman I need?” She kissed her, soft and then hard. “What’s it gonna take to convince you that I don’t screw around?” She kissed her again, her lips still moist from the last one. “If I’d known you were home, I’d have called. I didn’t try because I didn’t think you were. That, and I’d already left you a voicemail.” She released a breath loudly. “And if I say it’s importan
t, Elizabeth, you need to call me. I have stuff to tell you,” she went on, “but it can wait until I get back with Snuggles.”
“I didn’t get it,” Elizabeth responded. “If I had, I’d have called.”
“Whatever,” Claire said, grimacing as an abdominal spasm twisted her insides. “I need to take Snuggles out and lay down.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, drawing her eyebrows together.
“It’s just killer cramps,” Claire explained. “Nothing to worry about, just business as usual. Got my insides looped in the shape of a beer pretzel and they haven’t let up since two.”
“You should’ve come home, rested,” Elizabeth said, adopting a soothing tone. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“I did come home for a while,” Claire responded, “but I had to go back. It’s a new job, and we’ve got some serious problems right now.” She picked up Snuggles’ leash. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Don’t be too long.”
“Trust me,” Claire said, “I won’t.”
*
Elizabeth was waiting at the door when Claire returned. “We’ll begin with a hot bath,” she greeted, bending down to release Snuggles. “Heat is more effective than most over-the-counter medications. And if a hot bath doesn’t do the trick, we’ll try something else.” She adjusted the water temperature with a glance over her shoulder. “You eat too much fat,” she added. “Reduce that, and in all likelihood, you’ll solve this problem.”
“Yeah,” Claire said, “too many burgers, I know.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
“It’s cramp bark tea,” Elizabeth answered. “I started it when you went out.”
Claire paused, unbuttoning her shirt. Running me a bath, making me tea, what’s wrong with you? Unlike most docs she’d known, Elizabeth rarely, if ever, exhibited bedside manner.
“Trust me,” Elizabeth said, making firm eye contact, “it’ll help.”
“I do trust you,” Claire responded, “and I’m sure it will. But I’m okay. Really. It’s just cramps.”
“Of course you are,” Elizabeth said, adding bubble bath. “If you weren’t, we’d be taking a different route.” She collected Claire’s clothing, including her shirt and sports bra, placing the items in the laundry basket. “Now, hop in, lay back, and relax,” she said softly. “I’ll bring you a cup of tea as soon as it’s brewed.”
“Thanks,” Claire said, smiling when she returned. And she sipped—and soaked—and sipped—and soaked—until the hot water was all used up.
“When you get dried off,” Elizabeth said, “I want you to lay on the bed.”
Claire lifted her eyebrows.
“On this side of the mattress,” Elizabeth continued, dipping her hands into a special blend of natural oils—lavender, sage, and marjoram.
“On my back?”
“On your back,” Elizabeth answered. “I want to massage your lower abdomen. It’ll relax your muscles.”
“Mmmm… that feels good,” Claire moaned. “My cramps are almost gone.”
“Almost, but not quite?” Elizabeth responded. “How about we finish them off with an orgasm? It’ll release endorphins,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows. “You know, those delightful little painkillers that your body provides free of charge?”
Claire bit her lower lip, smiling. What’s up with you tonight? How long had it been? Ages. Way before they’d decided to move from Boston to Chicago since she’d asked to make love to her. “Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”
*
Abby’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up, reading Piper’s message.
PIPER: Your lips still sore? LOL.
ABBY smiled, messaging back: LOL…Maybe.
PIPER: Come out. I’ll kiss ‘em, make ‘em all better.
ABBY: Now? It’s 3 am.
PIPER: Duh. You think I can’t tell time? LOL.
ABBY: J/K
PIPER: LOL. Action tonight. Want in?
ABBY: What kind of action?
PIPER: The kind you said you were up for, like your initiation.
Abby sucked in a breath, hoping that Piper didn’t notice.
ABBY: IDK. Mom’ll hear me go out. I’ll get in trouble.
PIPER: Not if you go out your window and get back before she gets up. You can climb down your antenna. If you’re too scared, NP.
Abby’s pulse raced, her heart thumping through her chest wall.
ABBY: I’m not scared.
PIPER: K. Be over in 15. (3 Eyes for You Emojis)
ABBY: K (3 Heart Emojis—red, yellow, and blue)
*
Abby got up, making her way across her bedroom, and opening her door. She stood, listening, the bathroom nightlight illuminating the hallway. Clocks ticked throughout the house. Branches scraped against the bathroom window. Buckshot lumbered to his bowl, drank, and returned to what she believed was the sofa in the living room. She held onto the knob, palming her door closed with an added dose of gentleness. The inside of her mouth tasted like dust, opening her window. Tape, I need tape. She tiptoed to her desk and back to the door, attaching strips to the top, left side, right side, and bottom. Then, she put her leg over the sill, crawling out, and stepping onto the rung nearest her window, and soundlessly closing it.
*
“You awake?” Rylee whispered, her fingertips skimming across Kenzie’s bare shoulder.
“Mmmmm…”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rylee responded, trailing kisses down her back. “I have thirty minutes before I have to get up,” she murmured, caressing her breast. “With a bit of access, I could make really good use of it.”
“Mmmmm,” Kenzie moaned, her eyes opening as she rolled to her back. She stretched, making waking sounds, and sighed when Rylee’s phone rang next to their bed.
“Shit,” Rylee said, reaching for it, and answering.
“I’ll start the coffee,” Kenzie said, sitting up, and standing.
Rylee nodded, promising the dispatcher an ETA of thirty minutes. Then, she hung up, dressed hurriedly, took the stairs at a two-step-clip, picked up her thermos, and kissed Kenzie. She dialed Claire’s number as she backed out of the driveway, picking her up in the precinct parking lot.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A string of wheelchairs circled the drive.
A thread of gurneys snaked the sidewalk.
A staff of twenty, all but two wearing teal-n-pink scrubs, weaved through the lineup.
Rylee activated her radio. “10-23. CDC, FEMA, and ME not on scene.”
“Delay in callout,” the dispatch operator responded. “Stand by.” A short time later, she added, “FEMA and ME report an ETA of ten minutes.”
“Copy that,” Rylee said, turning to Claire as the transmission ended. “Guess we’ll sit tight until they get here.”
“Yep, guess we will,” Claire answered, releasing her seat belt, and leaning toward her window. “Why in the world did they bring them outside?” she asked, crinkling her brow. “I mean, anybody with any sense knows the more people you come in contact with, the greater your risk of getting exposed.” She shook her head slowly. “The way I see it,” she continued, “those old folks would’ve been better off in their own rooms with the doors shut.”
“I agree,” Rylee said, “but the ones in charge probably thought they needed to do something.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”
The radio chattered, officers talking amongst themselves—an intoxicated pedestrian needing medical attention—a domestic disturbance requiring backup—a wrecker called out to tow an improperly parked vehicle.
Rylee turned down the volume. “So,” she began hesitantly, “I’m getting married on the tenth of July.”
“You told me,” Claire responded. “That’s exciting.”
“Yeah, it is,” Rylee said. “So anyway,” she continued, “I didn’t know if you’d want to come or not. If you don’t, it’s okay; I just wanted you to know you we
re invited.”
“Aww, thanks,” Claire responded, the gesture giving her hope that one day they’d be as good of friends as she and her old partner. “Of course, I want to come,” she said, smiling. “Why wouldn’t I? I love wedding cake.”
Rylee laughed. “It’s gonna be chocolate swirl.”
“Perfect,” Claire responded, smiling, “my favorite kind.”
“So, I’ll get you an invitation then,” Rylee continued. “You can bring someone if you want.”
“Don’t really have anyone to bring,” Claire said, wishing she could talk Elizabeth into going, “but count me in, I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Yeah, well, if something changes between now and then,” Rylee responded, “the offer’s still on.”
“Don’t think it will,” Claire said, considering what she might say to get Elizabeth to go with her, and wondering where she’d been that morning when she’d gotten up. Wherever it was, she’d gone in her car. She rolled her tongue in her cheek, resolving to call her when she had a free moment. “So, what’d you think of the Marsh woman?” she asked, returning their discussion to work topics.
“Jury’s still out,” Rylee responded. “I think she’s an odd bird, that’s for sure. And, I think she knows how to contact her ex-partner. That bit about her not being well enough to keep in touch with him was bullshit. From the waist up, she’s sharp as hell.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Claire said. “I couldn’t decide if she thought he might be involved and was protecting him or if there was personal shit between them that she didn’t want us to know about.”
“Either, neither, or both,” Rylee responded. “One thing’s for sure though, if that virus turns out to be the one they discovered in West Africa, with her, and maybe him, living right here in town, it’ll be one heck of a coincidence.” She assumed a strong posture. “And I don’t believe in coincidence when it comes to homicides.”
“Nope, me either,” Claire answered. “And if it does turn out that way, I put my quarter on the Marsh woman knowing what’s up.” She looked over her sunglasses. “And my half-dollar on that partner, Gordon Voss. I mean, when you can’t find anything recent on a fifty-five-year-old guy in any of the databases, something’s up.”
