"I woke up late, around elevenish, left the house to get a birthday gift. First, I stopped at Starbucks for a white chocolate mocha. Then the local florist to get daisies for my dad, then to see my dad, then to the grocery store, I needed milk. Then I got pulled over by fucking Pike for littering."
"Littering?" He interjected, his eyebrow going up again. This time, she could have sworn she saw him smirk. For some odd reason, the sight warmed her slightly.
"Er. Well, I sort of tossed an ice cream container out my passenger window in a mild fit of hysteria. I was eating too much and having a bad day."
"Hysteria, hmm? A bad day shopping?" Again he wore that quiet smirk.
"Well, yes, sort of. Mostly visiting my dad was a little distracting, I suppose."
"Ah. So Officer Pike," he said with a hint of mockery, "pulled you over then what? Did he cuff and book you?"
"Please continue, Mrs. Harris." He encouraged her. "Well, he sort of fingered me a bit, and the dog licked me, then he was trying to get the er, um, the condom on, but he could figure them out, I guess." "The dog?" "Oh! No, Nicki put Geoffrey outside. No, Nicki was putting on the condoms. I um, we didn't use those things, Jon and I. Jon did at first, but then I went on the pill, and that was ages ago." "Right. What time was that?" He interjected, his eyebrow going up slightly again. This time she could have sworn she saw him smirk. For some odd reason, the sight warmed her slightly, though she had no idea why he was smirking. "You left the restaurant to go to his house?" "Er. Well, I…around seven, I think, I dropped him at work to get his car then went to his house...Yeah, it was five minutes to seven when we left because Veronica was going to spin class,
"Oh." Chloe hadn't realized how close she had gotten to Mr. Policeman. She had been staring into those eyes and getting a little lost while he talked and was nearly an inch away. She quickly took a step back and looked down at her shoes to keep from being hypnotized further. He didn't seem to take notice. "You'll hear from your lawyer in a day or two, I'm sure, about wills and life insurance and all that. Technically Jonathan is a homicide, while Nicki is a murder and Veronica suicide, according to your story. But we are still looking into things. So Nicki's next of kin will be notified and all that jazz. As far as the police are concerned, well, I've got a lot of paperwork, and the labs will be busy. You are still a suspect, so you don't need to contribute to this case other than staying out of trouble and staying in town." She could swear he was suggesting she were guilty, and it felt like he was also flirting with her. Something about his eyes seeme
Chloe woke up the next morning on the couch with a crick in her neck and a bit of a headache. She was exhausted and didn't know what to do. First, she needed to call Aunt Lane. She was the only family Chloe had left, and she needed to tell her what happened or at least summarize. She didn't want to repeat the whole story again. She hadn't wanted to tell the story last night to Mr. Policeman, but he was just sitting there nibbling away at her soul with his eyes and his smirk, and god, he was something. She wouldn't mind office sex with him. He had left her at home, asked if she was going to be okay, handed her a card, and said to call if she needed anything, and that was that, she thought. She wasn't too sure. She felt as though something was missing. She couldn't quite remember him leaving, really. The card, where did she put it, she found it on a side table near where she had kicked off her shoes. She didn't think she would sleep after what happened, but she
Chloe had made a quick call to work and they assured her bereavement time was already set up then she finally found the spare key to Jon's desk after looking for nearly an hour. He always kept one on his keychain, but there was always a spare in the house somewhere. It was her copy, but she never really had a use for it, so she often misplaced it. Jon had always used the desk and handled legal matters and all the numbers for things like bills and whatever else needed to be done. He was, after all, an accountant. She knew his key to the desk more than likely was at the police station being swabbed and prodded or stored in a plastic bag. She sat down at the large mahogany desk and took a deep breath. She had no clue what to expect from the lawyer or what to even say. She picked up the landline. She never used it, not even once, but she thought it was appropriate for some reason. She dialed the number on the business card paper clipped to some legal documents she knew nothing a
Chloe looked at the clock. It was already closing in on 1:00 p.m. She still needed to call the insurance company, but first, she wanted a nice hot shower and a cup of coffee. She walked to the master bedroom and glanced at the bed with a shiver running down her spine. She quickly skirted past it and through her walk-in to the attached master bathroom. It wasn't much, just big enough for a tub, toilet, and sink with a little window on one end. She stripped and tossed her clothes in the closet then ran the shower in the tub to get it hot while she brushed her teeth at the sink. She took a long hot shower, zoning out and fading in and out of numbness before the water became cold. She had just finished getting dressed with her hair up in a towel when the doorbell rang. She was barefoot in straight mom jeans and an old worn t-shirt that had been her dad's. She didn't want to wear any of her polo shirts that matched Jonathans, not today, not ever again. She only had the one new ou
When she returned, he was sipping his coffee and looking in her crafts basket on the side table. She instantly felt the heat in her cheeks once again. She paused a beat then quickly grabbed up her cup and jacket, heading briskly to the door, hoping he hadn't seen much but wondering again what all he saw last night while she was passed out. She grabbed her purse from near the side table and headed out. He dropped whatever he was looking at and followed her out. Chloe stopped short when she saw the car in her driveway and felt his solid warm body collide with hers from behind, and she began to teeter over. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her and then guided her by the small of her back to the passenger door of a shiny Mercedes S-class sedan. It was a dark metallic blood-red color, almost black, and looked fresh off the lot. He opened her door for her. Even the rims were expensive, she loved those multi-spoke rims, and she knew they cost extra. When she continued to
Kendra and Chloe had been best friends for twenty-three years ever since Chloe accidentally painted on Kendra's arm during their arts and crafts time in Second Grade. Kendra had laughed instead of getting angry or upset and painted a smile on Chloe's arm in return. She said they could be paint twins. After that day, they were nearly inseparable. Even when Kendra's family moved across country ten years later, they still kept in contact almost every day until high school graduation. They were so busy afterward calls and texts went down to maybe once a week. Still thick as thieves, they were like sisters and still paint twins even though Chloe couldn't paint anything to save her life. "Finally!" Kendra said when she answered. "Sorry about that. I was in the middle of something and forgot you were calling." Chloe's car sat idle on a quiet, shaded street, and no one seemed to care or notice her as she told her best friend the details
Chloe sighed and shook her head. Then she began to cry. It came silently, her eyes blurring over the heat of her tears burning to get out and slide down her face. She sat there in the cold fall shade on the quiet street, not able to stop the soft, silent downpour of tears. Chloe didn't feel the loss of her husband or friends. She felt the betrayal of the man she trusted more than anyone else. How could he? Then before she could even be properly upset with him or digest it all, he was gone. She loved him; she did, even if it was a messed up sloppy, boring love; it was something. Kendra was right; Chloe had wasted so much of her life being Mrs. Jonathan Harris instead of Chloe. She heard a rap on her window, and she jumped. Then heard someone apologize as she looked up. There he was, her Sexy Detective in all his raw male essence, waiting to take hold of her as soon as she let him she could see it in his eyes. Oh god, she knew she was a wreck, but she pushed the button