“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.” He shivered. “Why am I the one who winds up dead in your daydreams?”

  “You’re not. At least you’re not the only one.” I smiled. “So speaking of your widow, are you dating?”

  “No. And I wouldn’t tell you if I was. I’m thinking it’s time for me to get back to the station. I’m sure there’s a DUI or jaywalker I need to deal with.” He drained his soda and put the can in the recycling bin under the sink.

  “Tell Greg I’m sleeping with the mailman and running with scissors, but staying home.” I followed him to the front door.

  “I don’t think he’d believe any of those things. Including the staying home part.” He pointed to the flowers. “Those are nice. What did Greg do?”

  “Actually, they aren’t from Greg. I don’t know who they are from. The florist never got back to me. Maybe someone who couldn’t make the party. I hate not knowing. How am I supposed to thank someone if I don’t know who they’re from?”

  He frowned and looked for a card.

  “I already did that, but thanks for thinking I’m an idiot.”

  He blushed. “That’s not why I did that. I was just checking. Your boyfriend says to never assume anything.”

  “Okay, Sherlock, who do you think sent the flowers?”

  He shook his head. “I have no clue.”

  After Toby left, I wrote out my thoughts about the book to Deek and emailed it to him. I also included a few authors’ names that I thought might be able to help with the publishing process. Once that was done, I considered starting to clean out the gift piles, but I decided to put it off on the hope Greg would be home tomorrow.

  Instead, Emma and I curled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a movie I’d been wanting to see.

  * * * *

  Sunday morning, I got up too late to see Greg before he left for the station. I knew he’d come home, because Emma was lying in her bed downstairs with a bone. And there was a note on the fridge for me. During investigations, our lives were like this. Typically, I’d have to take dinner down to the station if I wanted us to eat a meal together, but I knew the beginning of the investigation was the hardest, so I’d give him some room. Besides, this was my first three-day weekend in a while, so I had a plan. A few of the items would have to be put off until I could run into Bakerstown without Greg freaking out, like adding to the flowers in front of the house. There was one project I’d already bought the supplies for. I needed to clear out and paint the third bedroom upstairs. The one I’d started to call the junk room.

  It was cleared of furniture, except for the bookcases I’d bought at several yard sales that I’d planned on painting. This room was going to be my library. Greg had taken over the office downstairs, even though he said we shared it. He worked in there a lot more. When I was home, my work was more about finding a good place to read. This would give me a place to store my keeper books as well as a place for a reading chair and a table.

  Greg still wanted to turn the room into a home gym, but I’d promised him the shed when Toby finally moved out. It would give us a lot more room for machines and such. Besides, this was my room. But right now, it was boxes and shelves and junk. The boxes would go into the attic. The boxes of books would eventually go on the shelves. And the junk would go outside to be trashed or given to the community yard sale pile.

  I figured I could get the boxes sorted, moved, and maybe the walls painted before I had to go back to work on Monday. Then I’d finish it off after work and during any weekend time I had. By June, this room was going to be a library.

  Maybe August.

  I grabbed my radio and my fully charged phone along with a travel mug full of coffee and went upstairs to work.

  I’d been at it for a couple of hours and had one more pile of boxes to go through. My legs and arms were killing me from moving boxes either to the second bedroom (the boxes that held my books), the attic, or downstairs for the giveaway/junk pile. I pulled a box close and opened it up to find pictures and papers.

  None of this looked familiar, so I glanced through some of the papers. Utility bills, rent receipts, and tax forms for Greg. This was one of his boxes he’d moved over from his apartment. Most of his stuff was either in the rooms or we’d decided not to keep it since my kitchen stuff was better than his. I started to put it away, thinking I’d let him clean it out or store it in the attic, when I found several pictures of his wedding. He and Sherry staring into each other’s eyes. Putting on the rings. Cutting the cake. He’d loved her once. These pictures were proof of that.

  Did that love affect his love for me? Did my love of past boyfriends and the short-lived husband change the way I felt about Greg? Was this marriage going to be the forever kind? Or just something where pictures would be stashed in a box to be found by the next fiancée?

  I put the pictures and the papers back in the box and took it to the second bedroom. I’d let Greg figure out what to do with it. I didn’t need to make that decision.

  After the boxes were done, I went downstairs to grab something to eat. I was tired, achy, and hungry, but there was only one of those things I could deal with right now. I scanned through the fridge to see what I could warm up and found nothing. Then I opened the freezer and found a serving of spicy chicken rice I’d stashed after we’d made too much the other night. Score.

  I tucked the bowl into the microwave and grabbed a glass of tea. Then I went to check on the mail. The living room was filled with boxes, so I moved them to the side so we could get around the room until we put them in Greg’s truck and took them to the donation-site.

  A knock sounded at the door, and when I went to answer it, Evie and Homer were on my porch. An excited Homer greeted Emma with a yip, and Emma sat at attention. Her body vibrated with her glee of seeing her doggy friend. “Evie, what are you doing here on a Sunday? I thought you would be relaxing.”

  “I heard about Alicia. I wanted to see if you had any more news.” Evie glanced at the flowers. “Those are pretty.”

  “Come on in. I’ve been clearing out a room upstairs, so forgive the mess. Come in the kitchen. I was about to eat something. Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head. “I ate before I came down this way. I didn’t want to be tempted to stop at Diamond Lille’s. I’m trying to spend less money on food so I can save some. It’s hard around here. Everything’s so expensive.”

  “Are you okay? I mean, do you need a raise? I could talk to Aunt Jackie about it.” I opened the fridge. “What about a soda or some iced tea?”

  “Iced tea would be great. And I’m fine, I’m just trying to figure out how to live here. I didn’t have to budget when I was married, so this is different for me.” She let Homer down on the floor, and he ran up to greet Emma. “Be good, little man. We’re visiting.”

  “He’s fine. I love having you and him over.” I set the glass in front of her, then sat down. “I don’t know much more than what you just said. Or what you told me earlier. I’m not sure why Harper wouldn’t have recognized her sister, unless she was in shock.”

  “So, funny thing, I saw a missing person’s post on Alicia that her husband had filed a few weeks ago. He went to the police, and when they didn’t help him, he went to the media. He said she’d been abducted.” Evie pulled out some papers and handed them to me. “As someone who has left a bad relationship, it felt off. I would have bet money that he’d killed her weeks ago and this was a cover-up. But she must have really left and headed down here to be with her sister.”

  I scanned the papers. He’d been insistent with the media that his wife loved him, that they’d had a happy marriage. “I wonder what the papers are saying now about what happened?”

  “That’s the thing. Greg might not have been able to keep this a secret here in South Cove, but the news media hasn’t seemed to figure out who was killed. Or at least tie her missing status to her death. At least until Darla files her story.” Evie pointed to the pictures. “If Greg’s looking for a suspect, I think he needs to talk to this guy and see where he was this week. He even looks like he could kill.”

  Evie had that right. The man in the pictures looked more like a model for a weightlifting gym than a grieving husband. “I’ll give these to him when he gets home. Or you could stop by the station yourself.”

  Evie blushed. “Actually, that was my first stop. I didn’t want to get you involved if it wasn’t anything real. Especially since you two just had your engagement party. I didn’t want to cause an issue. Besides, he was in a meeting so I came here.”

  “There’s not going to be an issue, believe me.” I pushed the papers aside. “So tell me what else is going on with you.”

  After Evie left, I took out my laptop and scanned the papers for Alicia’s husband’s name. Then I started my Google investigation.

  Later, Greg came home with a bag of Diamond Lille’s chicken with the fixings. “I hope you haven’t eaten dinner. I should have called first, but time got away from me and I just ordered on my way back from seeing Doc Ames.”

  “Actually, I didn’t even have lunch.” I’d gotten lost in the internet search and had left my reheated leftovers sitting in the microwave too long. I’d just thrown it out and had been thinking about what else I could eat when I’d heard Greg’s truck. “So how’s Doc?”

  “Good. Did you know Carrie’s moving in next week? I guess they’re getting pretty serious.” He set out the food on the table while I grabbed plates and silverware.

  “I didn’t know that. I guess they’re keeping it kind of quiet.” I was overwhelmed by the smell of the chicken. Sunday afternoon memories flooded through my mind. Recent and those from when I was a sullen teenager living with my aunt and uncle. “You said food makes me happy yesterday. I think it’s the memories I hold around it. Like Sunday chicken.”

  “I know. My mom didn’t do Sunday dinner, not like your aunt, but I’ve grown to appreciate the tradition since we’ve been together.” He leaned over and kissed me before sitting down. “I don’t even look at the menu. Not on Sunday.”

  “And I appreciate it. Was Carrie working when you picked up the food?” I found my favorite two pieces, a breast and a wing, and put those on my plate before going for the mashed potatoes.

  “Yes. And boy was she grumpy. I guess Lille had promised her the day off, but when Doc told her he was working today on this case, she went in anyway.” He laughed as he grabbed a leg off the plate. “You would have thought I killed Alicia from the look she gave me.”

  “It’s hard to be with someone who doesn’t have standard nine-to-five hours. Being at the beck and call of the safety of the community makes me feel guilty when I feel upset because we have to change an outing.” I thought about Carrie and her new relationship with Doc. “Maybe I should take some time and talk to her.”

  “That would be nice.” He set the leg down without taking a bite. “You’re okay with my job, right? I mean, I know it screws up our plans at times, but I’ve always been in law enforcement since we started dating.”

  “Yeah, I know. But knowing it and living it are two different beasts. Intellectually, I know that when you have to break plans it’s not because you just didn’t want to do it. But in my heart, sometimes I miss you. Especially during cases like this one. You’re gone a lot. And I’ve gotten used to having you around.” I squeezed his arm. “It’s not a big thing. I’m just telling you how I feel sometimes. It’s not a breakup-able issue.”

  “It was for Sherry.”

  The words hung in the air for a second. I knew when his first marriage had gone down in flames it had wounded him. But just like I couldn’t worry about how my workaholic past killed my first marriage, this wasn’t our issue.

  “I’m not Sherry.” I leaned back in the chair. “Speaking of your first marriage, when I was cleaning out the library, I found a box you need to go through. It has old tax returns, receipts from your rental, and your wedding pictures. I put it in the second bedroom with the book boxes. You have two choices, trash or attic. There’s lots of room up there, but I didn’t want to sort through your stuff.”

  “You could have.” He studied my face.

  I felt like there was more here. A fight I didn’t understand the rules to. Or even the reason it was brewing. Something was bothering him that was more than just a box I’d moved from one room to another.

  I decided to leave it for another day. With the case going on, if it was a fight, we might not be able to get through it before I didn’t see him again for days. And I hated it when we weren’t on speaking terms. Even though I knew we’d get past it. Eventually.

  “Honestly, I saw the pictures and stopped. I don’t need doubt running through my head right now. We’re too busy to deal with it.” I picked up my fork and took a bite of the mashed potatoes. So good. I turned to him. “Please tell me you brought home apple pie for dessert.”

  Chapter 11

  Monday morning, I was surprised to find Greg still at the kitchen table when I woke up. I didn’t set my alarm for my days off, but I still got up early. Just not as early as when I needed to serve coffee to my commuters. “Hey, I expected you to be off and running already.”

  He handed me the cup of coffee he’d just poured for me. “I wanted to spend some time with you before I went into the office. Yesterday felt a little off.”

  “We’re both going through some emotions regarding our change of status. It’s funny how you can be exactly the same person in the same relationship, but slap a label on what we have together, and it feels different.” I took the cup and curled into one of the kitchen chairs. I loved having Mondays off, but they seemed to fly by. I tried to slow them down when possible. Like now.

  “Bad different?” He sat next to me and continued to peel an orange while we talked.

  “Different, different. I feel it. I know you feel it. And having this case is probably making it more pronounced. Did you see the papers on the counter about your victim’s husband?”

  “Yes. I know you didn’t print them, because the office is still filled with gifts we need to deal with.” He separated the orange sections and ate one.

  The smell of the orange was overwhelming. I grabbed a section and popped it into my mouth before answering. “Don’t get mad at her, but it was Evie. She started researching Alicia since she was listed on the business license as being a part owner.”

  “Well, I have him on my list to interview this afternoon. He drove down from Idaho a few days ago and is staying at the Castle until Doc releases the body. Then he’ll go back and make funeral arrangements.” Greg ate another slice, then stood to throw away the peels. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink before sitting back down. “And yes, after talking to him on the phone yesterday, I let my emotions cloud my thoughts about us. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. And that scared me. A lot.”

  “Are you saying you want the ring back?” I held out my hand where it sat. I still didn’t sleep with it on, but I did have a start on a routine at bedtime and after my shower of putting in on and taking it off to store it where it would be safe. Wearing it was beginning to feel routine.

  “No. I’m saying I’m happy we made the jump. I have to say that I see your side of the ring issue. It feels different now. We feel different now. In a good way, but more important.” He shook his head. “I’m not explaining it well.”

  “Actually, you’re explaining it better than I was able to. I think we both thought it wasn’t a next step. That it was just a thing. But becoming engaged is important. And different. We needed to acknowledge it formally, like we did yesterday with the community. I make fun of the ‘ceremonies’ around these things, but I think they’re important for our emotional state.” I stood and kissed him. “I’m so happy to be marrying you, Greg King. I know we’ll have our ups and our downs. Our fights and our makeups. I can’t see a future without you now.”

  “I feel exactly the same way.” He squeezed me. “Okay, so now that we’re done with the touchy-feely side, what’s your take on Alicia’s husband? Grieving widower or possible cold-blooded killer?”

  “I don’t know. But Evie had a strong reaction. I don’t know her whole story, but I know she left a bad relationship to come here. And she feels like Alicia might have been escaping the marriage, not kidnapped.” I shook my head, trying to let the conflicting emotions fall into neat little piles. The way I liked my emotions to be contained. It wasn’t working. “I can’t give you more than my reaction to Evie’s reaction, but I think she’s seeing something we aren’t.”

  “I got that. He had a desperation to his call. Like I needed to understand how happy they were. That she wouldn’t just leave him.” He checked his phone. “I’ve got to go. We’re having a strategy meeting at the station. Can I have the printouts?”

  “As long as you don’t rat out my source, yes.” I pushed the papers toward him. “Will I see you for dinner?”

  “Maybe. It depends on if anything breaks today. You know the drill.” He paused. “And I’ll go through the box and put what I’m keeping up in the attic. If I keep some of the wedding pictures, is that going to bother you?”

  “No. I knew you were married before. I just need to know you love me more. Just so I can rub Sherry’s face in it the next time we meet on the street.” I laughed as I followed him to the door. “Do you think I could take her one-on-one?”

  “Just letting you know, she fights dirty.” He kissed me, laughing. “Just stay out of trouble. You can go running if you’re careful.”

  “Thank you. I’ll text you when I leave and when I get back.” I felt giddy at the idea of running on the beach. “So you think this is personal, Alicia’s killing?”

  “Yeah, I’ve kind of ruled out a South Cove business owner serial killer scenario. There’s too much going on in this family for it to not be something surrounding them. But be careful anyway, okay? Just in case?”