Page 4 of Dead Man's Wish
“Harder, especially on his wallet.” She winked at me as we maneuvered around a small van parked off to the side.
“I’m already hard on his wallet, so as difficult as he may be present wise, I’ll count my blessings there.” I looked to my left, watching my reflection move across the glass. The mannequins stood with stiff postures that didn’t sell me on the comfortability of the clothes they displayed. Across the street, a store had its glass doors open and I was able to catch a glimpse inside. “Actually, speaking of wallets.”
I tugged Mari’s elbow and crossed the avenue. We stepped over the threshold and met a cool, air-conditioned space. My shoes clapped across this flooring, too. I led the way to the display area that initially caught my eye. It was a table array of handcrafted leather wallets.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she said, leaning around me.
“You think so?”
“Why are you doubting yourself where Jaiden is concerned?”
“I’m not doubting myself,” I clarified. “I just want it to be meaningful. He sees each year as a reminder that . . .”
“He could’ve died,” she finished bluntly. I looked up at her, not upset or sad. I knew. She was right, and so was he, but it wasn’t the way I saw things.
“He could’ve, yes, but he’s here. I see him every day. Touch him. I want him to see the purpose he has and why he’s still beside me.” Her eyebrow tweaked at the drama.
“And a genuine Italian wallet definitely screams—” I elbowed her before she could finish.
“You know, he wouldn’t talk about it for a while. I have to be careful bringing things up now because he doesn’t know that I knew about his nightmares.” I looked at her, over the notion of trying to buy a stupid wallet.
“Did you psychoanalyze him?”
“Rude, and no. You know I’d never invade or manipulate him that way. Everyone deserves their private thoughts. Besides, he found a therapist without a conflict of interest. He’s just never discussed it all at length with me.” I rested a hand against the table, needing to shake a very real weight that pressed upon me.
“How’s vacation going for you two?”
“It’s great, truly. I feel free. It’s so dark working at home. The enjoyment of closing a case and helping a victim only keeps the hideousness away for so long. Here there’s freedom. Alarm clock? Not important. Cuddles? All the time if we want to.” I picked up a solid black leather wallet, turning it over in my hands. It was smooth on the surface, had a suitable number of slots, and it was slim enough to not be a bother in his pocket. A bonus was the minimalist logo.
“It’s all behind us, and I think you’ve been moving forward well. I can see the life in you two again, and I’m really happy to be on this vacation with you.” She looked around the room. “You know, I don’t think I could’ve come back from it if I’d lost both of you that night.”
“So, the wallet?” I laughed. “Totally unnecessary and probably from a place of guilt, but yes?” I held it up and let her look it over.
“It actually fits him very well in my opinion.” She looked at her watch. “We should get moving if we’re going to finish and get to dinner.” I walked with her to check out, not even bothering to figure out the exchange rate. The sales associate handed over the small bag.
My phone pinged before Mari could continue.
Mr. Wells: Dinner plans, you instead?
Little Swallow: In the birthplace of carbonara, the audacity. The disrespect.
I laughed at the text, catching Mari’s attention.
“He insulted pasta,” I paraphrased.
“He would.” I took her arm once more, grateful for the other rock in my life. We carried on down the avenue and moved between people without care.
A murder-free vacation.
Jaiden Wells
I looked downat my phone mounted to the motorcycle I’d rented for the vacation. Bexley was around the corner on another street and the blue line was shortening. I looked up at Kel, who rode beside me, and he tipped his head. His face was obscured by the helmet, but I was willing to bet his smirk matched mine. The best-worst thing that came from Mari and Bex was the chaos of Kel and me.
We slowed at the intersection, and I looked to the left where the indicator blinked for her. Her arm was linked with Mari’s as she rested against her shoulder. The sun was a warm wash against the walls and brickwork. I revved the bike and Kel joined in. Bex’s head popped up and she looked back, startled by the sudden noise.
We pushed off, getting to a steady speed and moving on the outside of the girls. On our approach, I saw Bex shake her head and knew I was predictable to her. Kel dropped his left hand and I dropped my right.
Passing by, I popped Bex’s ass. Kel did the same to Mari.
