Shutting off my car, I got out, stretching the kinks from my body while pushing thoughts of Huxley from my mind. I could worry all I wanted. I could fuss, fume, and fixate on all things that were Tenzen Huxley but that wouldn’t do me a damn bitof good. All that worrying did was weigh me down, and if there was one thing I was certain of, I needed to be as mentally and physically nimble as possible when Huxley did come knocking on my door.
Yips drew my attention toward my neighbor’s yard. Miss Pattycakes was outside and had heard my car drive in. She was a better warning system than Pops’s wards—not that I’d ever tell the great and powerful Nikodemus Holland that. Pops’s ego would never recover from such an accusation.
“Hush, Patty. It’s just Erasmus.” Mrs. Hart leaned out her front door. The screen pushed open as she ushered Miss Pattycakes inside. “Good evening, Erasmus. How are you?” Mrs. Hart asked as she waved at me from her porch.
I waved back. “I’m good. Just got home. I’m gonna get the mail and then head inside.”
Mrs. Hart pulled her robe a little tighter around her shoulders. “How’s that handsome detective of yours?” Even from this distance, I could see my elderly neighbor’s eyebrows waggle.
My grin was so wide it hurt my cheeks. “Franklin’s fine. He’s still at work.”
That sobered Mrs. Hart. Shaking her head, she said, “I hate to think why that is, but I’m glad we’ve got people like your Franklin lookin’ out for us. I keep you both in my prayers.”
Mrs. Hart’s words warmed my chest. While I prayed to Gaia, not the Christian God, I’d take all the well-wishes anyone decided to throw my direction. “Thank you. I’m sure Franklin will be relieved to hear that also.”
“You two take care and let me and Miss Patty know if there’s anything you need.”
“We will.”
The creak of Mrs. Heart’s screen door echoed my own home’s. I watched her front door until the inside one closed. I’dasked Pops to ward Mrs. Hart’s house also. He’d grumbled but had done it. For me. There were a few constants in my life. One of them was knowing just how much Momma and Pops loved me. It was a good foundation to work from.
Heading down the driveway, I made my way to the front of the house and the mailbox. My neighbor across the street was outside, so I waved at him just as I’d done with Mrs. Hart. Unlike Mrs. Hart, this neighbor stuck his nose in the air before turning on his heel and heading back into his house. The slam of the door behind him as he closed it was deafening.
I could fixate on his shitty, prejudiced response, or I could let it go. I’d learned a long time ago not to take such actions to heart. Momma had taught me that. Fixating on others’ hatred would only hurt me in the long run. That didn’t mean Iforgot. It just meant I carried it on the outside, not the inside. I used it as metaphorical armor instead of letting it in to fester into an unhealing wound.
“Asshole,” I murmured while reaching for my mailbox. Just because I didn’t fixate on others’ hatred didn’t mean I couldn’t curse and call them uncharitable names. Hell, that was half the fun.
A few bills populated my mailbox, along with a political flyer and an advertisement for a new superstore that would soon be opening. I shifted through the pieces of paper, organizing them in my hands as to what would immediately go into the recycling and what needed more attention.
I was almost through the stack when my finger brushed along a different texture. When I pulled it out, it was clearly not a bill, but a greeting card. The lavender envelope was a soothing color. Flipping it over, I saw my name, along with Franklin’s and my address. There was no return address.
Curious, I made my way to the porch, laying the typical mail on the swing so I could open the card. The greeting surprised me. It was a congratulations on our engagement.
“Huh?” Franklin and I hadn’t kept our engagement secret, but we also hadn’t shouted it from the rooftops. Everyone I knew had offered me personal congratulations. I couldn’t imagine anyone I knew sending a card. Maybe it was from Franklin’s nana or someone else in his family.
Opening the card, I skimmed through the pleasantries while my eyes tracked to the bottom.
My heart sank, landing somewhere around my toes while my brow broke out in a cold sweat. The script implied so much more than the words alone.Best wishes for a long and useful life. See you soon, Tenzen Huxley.
Thank Gaia the porch railing was close at hand. If not, I would have landed on my ass. My body swayed and my vision swam. I didn’t think. Maybe I was incapable of rational thought. I should have headed inside my home, sat down, and taken a few moments to talk myself off the ledge I was suddenly perched on.
That would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I turned on my heel, marched back to my car, hopped inside and headed towards the safest place I knew—Franklin O’Hare.
Franklin’s earlier text had been vague, but it offered enough information for me to head in the right direction. The flashing lights of a police car were anything but subtle, and I let their pulsing flares guide me. Pulling up alongside the road, I parked behind the last vehicle in a line of many. I’d assumed this was a homicide, given that was Franklin’s specialty. I had no idea regarding the particulars.
The ME van was parked a few vehicles in front of mine, and I inwardly shuddered at the reminder of our previous ME, Dr. Morgan McCallister. Being kidnapped and nearly murdered sort of made it difficult to forget someone. I didn’t mourn Dr. McCallister’s passing.
Getting out of my car, my legs felt like little more than Jell-O. Running on instinct, I never stopped to consider this might be a crime scene and that I wouldn’t be welcome. I should have.
“Get back in your car,” someone shouted, pulling my attention from the group huddled around an area a few feet away. I could just make out Franklin’s ginger head of hair. He was so close and yet so damn far away.
“I need to speak with Franklin,” I somehow managed to rasp out.
“I don’t give a shit,” Tall, Broad, and Imposing said as he got up in my face, towering over me. “This is a crime scene.”
I shook my head, my hair flopping around my head. Tears born of frustration, need, and fear threatened. “Please, just tell—”
“Back in the car,” he ordered while taking another step toward me.
