While my Mom unburdens her fears, I feel better knowing I’m not the only one scared shitless by the pandemic. A couple hours later, I return home with clean clothes and a gift from Nonna for my husband. He meets me at the outside door where I hand him a pink mask with fluffy rabbits. When he stretches it over his nose and mouth, I stick a fist in my mouth.
Giggling, I wipe my eyes. “She said it was the only material she had.”
“Copy that.” He grins. “Now, my bunnies and I can go get tested.”
He grabs our laundry, tosses the heavy bag over his shoulder, and follows me up the stairs. On the landing, we both shove the green blob but it refuses to clear the opening.
Releasing the top knot, I carefully remove a few t-shirts and hand them to him. “Listen, I’ll go in first and you hand them through, a few at a time.”
Inside, I kneel, hold forth my hands, and expect clothes to arrive in an orderly manner. Instead, all my hard work is undone as laundry rains down on my head.
“What the fuck? No! Pass them, pass them.” I grab socks and undies out of the air while he laughs his ass off.
“What difference does it make?”
“How will I know what’s clean and what’s dirty?”
“Smell?”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
It takes us a while to pick everything off the foyer floor because we have to pause for sex-on-a-bench.
Once inside, I sit at my computer. Hoping Jason is done doing his magic, I open a chat message from an unknown party and gasp.
I’m coming for you.
“Suds, oh my God. Shit. Come see.” While I wait, I type back,Just try it, motherfucker.
“Don’t.” My husband grabs my hand as I roll my eyes.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to respond. I’m just pissed.”
Hands in the air, I lean back in my chair.
Suddenly, Cat comes flying down from the loft. She bounces off the back wall, onto the kitchen shelf, and lands on my keyboard.
My mouth drops open. “Oh no. She hit send.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Suds
“Dammit Sam.” I cannot believe my intelligent wife just taunted a serial killer.
“Don’t get mad at me, blame Catrina.” Head in hands, she moans but I’m not done being mad.
“I thought we agreed to leave finding the strangler to the police?” When I move in real close, she connects with my gaze, looking all hurt and innocent.
“I did! I sent all my research to my dad and to the FBI, just as we discussed. What?” My wife’s eyes do the shifty-shift.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Pinching her chin, I will her to ‘fess up.
As she stares down at the wood floor, she sucks in her lower lip. “I may have asked Dr. Jones and Jason to do a little digging.”
“What kind of digging?” I tuck her chin a little higher and touch noses but she glances off to the side.
“The small, very unimportant, safe kind.”
