She eyed me for a moment before agreeing. Then she launched into a tale about muffins, her gun,and the apparently delicious detective working on my case. If it was anyone but Addison, I’d swear she was making the entire thing up. I shook my head, laughing.
“So you’ve got a thing for Detective Parker?” I asked, still unable to believe my ears.
“I did not say that!” she replied, sounding like I’d accused her of committing treason or something. “But ohmigod, Dylan, have youseenhim? We’retalking Patrick Flueger meets Johnny Depp-type yummy.”
My mind did a visual mashup of those two men, creating a Picasso-inspired nightmare that was anything but “yummy.” “How does that even...?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I get it. Built, dark, and handsome, with over-sexed hair. That’s kind of your thing.” Yep, Detective Parker was definitely Addison’s type, whereas mine was... well... Asher.I couldn’t remember ever being attracted to anyone else.
“What the hell is ‘over-sexed hair’?”
“The kind that is a perfect mess...like he’s been laid often...and well.”
“Whatever. He’s hot.”
“It sounds like I got locked up so you could meet the man of your dreams. No wonder you’re putting money in my account to pay me off.”
“Not funny. But yeah, he makes me all floaty, and when he smiles...well, it’s a most definite panty-losing kind of smile.”
“Gah. TMI, Addie. Way TMI.” I’d never seen her like this before. Sure, my bestie lusted over hot guys, but her eyes didn’t normally take on that dreamy haze they had now. It was like she’d stepped out of the script ofThe Notebookor one of those other lame romance movies she loved so much. I didn’t even want to know what was going on inher mind. “What’s wrong with you? You just met the guy. It’s like you’re in heat or something. I swear, Addie, if you start spraying all over the place, I’m out.”
That snapped her out of it. “Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. “He’s a little old, but I can maybe work with it.”
“How do you know how old he is?”
“I asked Asher.”
I waited for her to fill me in, but she didn’t. “Ohmigod, Addie. How old ishe?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s ancient,” I droned sarcastically.
She grinned. “Just as long as he has enough energy to give me babies, I’m good.”
I rolled my eyes. When Addison decided she wanted something, she generally got it, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the detective proposed within a year and she had a baby soon after.
All too soon it was time for Addison to leave. She promised toreturn Sunday for both the morning and the afternoon visits, which was impressive since the morning visit was so early. She teared up a little when the guard herded her toward the door, but I put on a brave face and promised her I’d be okay.
The rest of the weekend crept by in a sleep-deprived haze of buzzers, ominous door clicks, and barely-edible food. Seriously, Saturday night’s meal wassome sort of soup comprised of the week’s leftovers, making me beyond grateful for the snack money Addison had put on my account.
True to his word, Asher got me out on bail Monday morning. There was absolutely no way I could go back to my apartment (the crime scene), so I didn’t even argue when Addison insisted I stay with her. Arguing was actually out of the question since everything but myfurniture had magically made its way into Addison’s second master bedroom. Granted, my furniture consisted of a mattress, a box-spring, a couch, and a nightstand, but they were mine. Every time I asked her how she’d gotten past the police tape to spring my stuff, she just smiled coyly and said she had her ways.
“I’m out of jail now, Addie. You can stop trying to find ways to get locked up withme,” I said as we drove toward her condo.
“Oh honey, this isn’t about you. I’m trying to get locked up with Detective McSexypants now. I wonder how good he is with those handcuffs...”
“Detective McSexypants?” I gagged. “You make him sound like a happy meal.”
“Well...”
I turned up the radio, drowning her out before she could traumatize me for life.
As soon as we got to her condo, I strippedand climbed into the shower, where I tried to scrub off the nauseating scent of jail. It felt like it had seeped beneath my skin, though, which meant I wouldn’t get rid of it until Kirk’s murderer was found.
And what if they didn’t find his murderer? Would I get locked up for a crime I didn’t commit? It was my knife, after all. And he was found in front of my apartment. At least the tests hadcome back from the blood in the bathroom and I’d been embarrassingly cleared there.
By the time I dressed, dried my hair, and reemerged, I felt discouraged. Sure, I was out of jail now, but how long would my freedom last? I plopped down on the sofa and waited for Addison, who was standing in the doorway paying the takeout delivery guy.
When she finished, she nodded me off the sofa, settinga gigantic bag of food on the dining room table next to fancy china and silverware she’d put there earlier (she was weird that way... when you ate at Addison’s, you ate properly).
