Page 6 of Dead Man's Wish
“Can you blame them?” Mari cut in. “They’reinternationallysexy and oozing charm.” I was certain she was mocking us by the way she scrunched her nose and shook her head with the words. I pulled Bex’s hand into mine and started going over the menu with her.
“I missed you,” I whispered, leaning in to brush my nose against her ear. An excited Mari and Kel fell into easy conversation over her day and what she bought.
“I missed you, too.” She leaned into my touch, taking a deep breath and releasing it shakily.
“What’s wrong?”
“I bounce between not worrying and being wound into a tight ball of fear. It’s worse on celebratory days when I feel guilt, but I’m trying to cling to you and leave it all behind us.” Her grip tightened around my fingers.
I let the silence continue between us. She thought over her worries while picking absentmindedly at the napkin that sat beside her silverware. Kel, Mari, and the buzz of people faded as I listened to her slow inhales.
“You’d think I was crazy for continuing the career path I chose after brushing arms with a serial killer and facing off with death.” Bex turned to me then. I pulled back to give her room and so I could see her fully. “In some ways, that sentiment is right. It compounds over time, the horrid shit getting worse, and you can’t shake it. We work with these small towns regularly and there are plenty of cases where the smallest detail takes me back momentarily.”
“Are you wanting to quit—no more psychologist extraordinaire?” I asked her under my breath, not wanting to draw attention to us. It was a teasing question, and my tone was light to not upset her.
“No,” she answered with a slight shake of her head and looked away. “I just want to work together and move forward. Lean on each other, confide in each other, and make sure that we’re aware of the other struggling so we can manage that slack.”
“I can do that.” I smiled and she looked up at me again. “We’re leaving soon, and we can make those plans when we land. We have Mari and Kel,” I said, and she looked across the table at our friends in deep conversation. “Right now, we have everything important within our grasps.”
The waitress came back and collected our menus while we placed our orders. Sensing a need for distraction, Kel spoke up first.
“Finally find something for birthday boy?” The question was to Bex. She stopped sipping her water and looked up with unease.
“I did,” she hesitated. “It’s a little lame though.” Her cheeks burned. My eyebrows drew together at her remark.
“Why would you think that?” I couldn’t recall a single time that I reacted to anything to give the impression oflame. Mari grinned and slid her hand over her mouth. “Something to share?” I probed.
“Okay, it’s only lame because I was going on and on about something unrelated, but I conflated it with your gift and so when I picked it up, Mari—”
I put a finger over her mouth to stop her rambling.
“You could give me a used napkin and it would mean everything.” She sighed and bent down to pick up the bags at her feet. They were smaller than the others, and the brand printed on them was probably high-end. I wasn’t very good at discerning designers from knockoffs, mostly given that I didn’t care to.
I grabbed the one closest to me, and it was dwarfed in my hand. Reaching inside, I pulled out a box. Smooth to the touch, it didn’t give away any clues of what was inside. When I lifted the lid, I saw an amazingly crafted wallet that fit my taste. It wasn’t flashy, the logo was minimal, and it had an enjoyable texture.
“You thought”—I leaned closer to the gift—“a genuine Italian leather handcrafted accessory was lame?” She palmed her face as I reached for the second bag. Mari and Kel laughed at the display. This one was about the same size, only the box inside was bigger and bulky. Taking off the lid revealed a stunning watch. The band was leather so dark, it was nearly black, and the watch face was sterling silver and intricately designed.
“Did you get me a matching set?” Kel jokingly asked Mari as he bent down and looked around her bags.
“Shut up, it’s not your birthday.” She nudged his leg with her foot and the tension in Bex’s shoulders broke as she laughed. The atmosphere shifted and once again, we were aligned with our happiness.
“Technically, his already passed,” Kel justified.
The waitress filled our table with food and as the sun set, we relished the easy vacation life. The clatter of silverware against the dishes filled the space between conversation. Mostly, talk surrounded how delicious the wine had been. That led to planning another trip to a vineyard.
I could feel the food coma creeping in. The silence stretched, and Mari began a hushed conversation on their side of the table. I twirled my pasta and tapped Bex’s shoulder.
“Open,” I whispered. Her soft, rosy lips wrapped around the fork, and she winked at me before taking the bite. Laughing, I leaned in close to give her a hint for the evening but stopped short when my phone rang. The sharp trill sliced through the calm we worked to establish.
At first, I thought it was a mistake, but it rang again and drew the heavy-lidded and relaxed table to full attention. I fished it out of my pocket and looked at the caller ID filling the screen.
Detective Bishop.
I slid my thumb across the phone symbol without telling them who it was. Kel and I had mastered an art of quiet communication. Bex would read it easily enough, but I watched him as I answered with the slightest furrow of worry on my brow.
“Hello?” I didn’t address him, knowing Bex would spiral immediately. She wouldn’t have a problem connecting the dots. We were on vacation, and everyone who usually needed me sat at this table. This wasn’t likely to be a social call.
“Jaiden,” Bishop greeted. Only, it wasn’t a greeting—it was regret.
