Unless, of course, she decided to sell the place. No doubt it held a bunch of disturbing memories. Sometimes it was better to get away and move on with life, than to stay in places that bring us pain.
For half a second I contemplated buying the store myself. Almost as quickly, I dismissed the idea. I had enough on my plate with two restaurants. What would I do with a convenience store?
"Bad workmanship," Archer grumbled. He put his knife away, snagged up a chocolate bar and handed it to me. "We should get out of here."
"Yes, we should." I followed him out of the storeroom.
Camilla was still behind the checkout.
"Sorry about the mess," I told her.
"That's okay," she whispered. "I've been trying to get him to do something about those shelves for a long time. They were bound to fall and kill someone sooner or later."
"Yes, they were," I agreed.
If they looked closely, they'd see a gaping hole in his neck. Who knows, maybe they'd accept the death by shelves excuse. After all, if we hadn't killed him, they would have. Right?
Archer took my hand and we stepped back out into the night.
CHAPTER 12
ARCHER
"That was fun," Harlow said as we stepped back into my apartment.
"It was. You've got a bit of…" I swiped chocolate off the side of her mouth with my thumb before pressing it between my lips. "Yum." She had a point about Cadbury chocolate.
She let me take her hand and lead her over to the bathroom, where I started the bath. With water, not acid.
"I figured we could clean up together," I said, working my hand under the hem of her sweater to pull it up over her head. She held up her arms to help me, then pulled mine up and off.
"Good idea. You have ketchup in your hair and on your ear."
I put my hand up to feel it. My hair was stiff, and the side of my head was sticky.
I grunted in disgust. I didn't like being dirty, much less sticky. What was the point of stickiness anyway? Why did the universe need things to stick? Okay, tape and envelopes, but those were a different kind of sticky. Those were sticky with a purpose.
This was sticky to gross me out.
The rest of my clothes were caked with the condiment. I stripped them off and threw them aside. They'd need a good wash after I had one.
I turned off the water and threw in some bath salts. The scented steam rose off the water, filling the room with smells that were better than sticky ketchup.
I helped Harlow into the bath, then climbed in myself, sitting opposite her, my feet on either side of her hips.
"I call this a good night," I said. "One killing and one bath with my woman."
"The perfect date," she said.
"Almost perfect." I grabbed a washcloth and started to wipe the ketchup off my ear. "I wasn't able to get you his heart."
"He was a little bit busy under all of those cans and boxes," she said with a laugh. "I can live without his heart.”
"Are you sure?" I dug the washcloth into the space behind my ear and scrubbed up and down vigorously.
"Very sure," she said. "It's sweet of you to be worried about me though."
"I’m a big believer in supporting people's hobbies," I said.
