Just like a regular
nine-to-five worker, Seth packed up his things and walked out with Angela and
Kim. With the autopsy mostly wrapped up, it seemed Seth’s involvement at the
morgue would be drawing to a close. They’d spent the rest of their afternoon
laughing and teasing each other about being the killer but the idea of having
his story’s MDI as the killer was too appealing for Seth to let go. He couldn’t
wait to get home and revise everything he’d written up to that point.
“Thanks again for everything. I can’t thank you enough
for letting me tag along. I’m going to dedicate my next book to you two and
Detective Crash.”
“Does that mean we get signed copies?”
“You bet! In fact, once it’s published, I’ll not only
write an inscription; I’ll even take you all to lunch and hand-deliver your
copies.”
“You know Kim and I are going to hold you to that
promise, right? And I expect to be played by an Oscar winning actress in the
movie version.”
As he drove home, sadness
tugged at Seth’s heartstrings. He’d grown fond of his two “Angels of Death” and
he wished he could find a legitimate reason to continue hanging out with them
at the morgue. Just imagine how much more
you could learn if you spent a few weeks there, instead of just a couple of
days. He was still trying to determine whether it was the devil on his
shoulder, the one who always found distractions when there was writing to be
done, trying to convince him to spend more time with his new friends or if it
was a genuinely good idea. Melanie will
help me decide. She’s always been my voice of reason, my anchor. I should see
if she’d like to meet them too, just not at the morgue. Poor Mel, she’d be sick
for a month.
When he pulled into the garage,
Melanie’s car wasn’t there. Checking his watch, Seth tried to quell the voice
of panic whispering in his ear.
“She should be home by now,” the voice hissed. “There’s
another serial killer on the loose and Melanie isn’t here…she always calls when
she’s running late.”
A horrifying shriek cut
through the air and Seth nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Damnit!” He shouted to the void. “I really need to
change my ringtone.”
A text from Melanie, saying
she was running late, scrolled across his screen. Laughing at his overactive
imagination, Seth went inside, still gasping for breath. I scare myself more than I ever scare my readers. No longer panting
like he’d just run a marathon, he called Melanie’s number and asked if she’d
like to go out to dinner.
“Seriously? Mr. Homebody wants to go out to a restaurant
and it isn’t my birthday or our anniversary… Why, what did you do wrong?”
“Gee, thanks. Forget it. I’ll order pizza instead.”
“No, wait! I was just kidding. I’d love to go out to
dinner with you.”
“No you weren’t but that’s okay. We’ll go out anyway.”
Laughing, he hung up the
phone and went inside to shower. Strangers looking in might find their dialogue
disturbing, or mistake them for being cruel, but Seth and Melanie had always had
a teasing, sarcastic, banter uniquely their own. Each playful jab was their
secret way of saying I love you.
Seth was showered and
dressed when Melanie pulled into the garage. Inside, he breathed a sigh of
relief when he saw her. Though he didn’t want to admit it; the voice of panic
had sown havoc. His greatest fear was losing the one person who was, and would
always be, his world. With great pride he escorted her to the very same cafĂ© where he’d had lunch earlier.
“You’re going to love this place. Bill, the detective I
told you about, took us here for lunch and the food was phenomenal. Not to
mention, the dessert menu was downright sinful.”
As the hostess showed them
to their seat, Seth smiled at his wife’s reaction. Melanie was soaking in the
very essence of the atmosphere: classy but not stuffy, distinctive art from
local artists on the walls, and friendly staff. One glance at the menu sealed
the deal; Melanie decided if the food was even half as good as it sounded she
had a new favorite restaurant. Too busy deliberating between entrees; she hadn’t
noticed they’d attracted someone’s attention.
“Back so soon?”
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