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  “Go home to your husband. Stop thinking about this.”

  I pick my bag back up and give her a wave goodbye. “I will be interrogating you tomorrow about this date,” I throw over my shoulder as I head out of her office. I rummage around in my purse to find my keys. I dig to the bottom trying to fish them out, not paying attention to where I’m going, and I run right into someone.

  “Sorry,” I say as I jump back, my head jerking up to meet Chad’s gaze. Holy crap. Why do I keep running into this man? I guess we are in the courthouse. This is his stomping ground, too.

  “Where are you rushing off to, Angel?” he asks. I don’t know why it bothers me when he says my name but it always does. I regret the first time he said it and I didn't correct him. I should have told him to call me by my last name. If I did it now it would be awkward. I hate awkward. I swear he is always trying to make me feel off. I don’t think he’s bullying me per se, but he’s pushing something. Being near him always just feels wrong and gross.

  “To see the husband.”

  Chad’s whole face changes at the mention of Lucas. “I heard he found Mrs. Washington.”

  “Dead.” I can’t help but add that last part. During the trial, Chad played with the idea that she’d run off. No woman runs off and takes nothing with her.

  “Heard it was Doc that got the call.” Lucas didn't tell me that. Maybe because we haven't had the chance to talk about it or he knew how upset I was about the case to begin with.

  “I hear they can’t find Mr. Washington.” I tilt my head up. I’m fishing.

  “He paid his bill with me.” Chad shrugs because that’s all he really cares about.

  “I’ll see you around.” I brush my hair out of my face, stepping around him. I reach up to pull my glasses off, having forgotten I still had them on. I always wear them for court. They oddly make me feel like I have somewhat of a shield on when I am there. I’m starting to wonder if I actually love my job.

  “I’m sure you will, Angel,” he drawls.

  I don’t turn to look back at him as I exit the courthouse, heading straight for my car. There is only one place I want to be right now. At home with my husband. The one man I trust. The one man that always makes me feel safe.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucas

  The microwave dings at the same time Angel turns the TV on. I pull the popcorn bag out and dump the contents into a bowl. My wife pats her hand on the empty sofa cushion next to her.

  “Did you get any knitting done?” I ask, settling in. “I want to see my new hat.”

  “It’s not done yet. You can’t see a creation in the middle of the process, otherwise the magic will be spoiled. Who do you think is going to get eliminated?”

  I stare at the television screen and try to remember the contestants’ names. After a minute, I give up. “The brunette who wears the red lipstick or the bearded man. They both seem out of their element.”

  “The red lipstick one is Peggy and she made the amazing swans out of sugar candy last week. Plus, they really liked the bread that Aaron made. He’s the bearded guy.” She points her finger at the screen.

  I eye them for a few moments, watching the contestants buzz around the open-air tent. “They both look nervous. Her hands are shaking. He has sweat forming at his hairline. Neither will make it to the end.” I shove a whole handful of popcorn into my mouth. Angel takes a kernel at a time. We couldn’t be more different. I’m big; she’s small. I eat in large gulps; she takes small sips. I kill people; she doesn’t.

  “People can be nervous and not be on the verge of breaking down. Speaking of breaking down, I heard the rookie cop, Luke or something like that, is having a hard time during investigations. Sarah in dispatch thinks he’s going to quit.”

  I think back to the young officer and his green face. This job isn’t for everyone. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “His dad was a cop and his grandfather was, too. He doesn’t want to quit because he’s afraid he’ll be an embarrassment to his family. Gosh, why have there been so many killings here lately?”

  “I don’t know.” I run a hand up her arm. “Are you afraid?”

  “No. It just seems odd. We go for years without a murder and now we’ve got three. Other counties have them, but not us.” She tilts her sweet face up. “Do you think we should be worried?”

  “No.” I pull her onto my lap. “Nothing is ever going to happen to you.” I give her a hard kiss before redirecting her attention to the television. “You watch. I’ll take care of you.”

  She feels tense and worried. I don’t like that. Not one bit.

  “Take care of me how?”

  “Like this.” I slide my hand under the waistband of her yoga pants. She’s wearing a thong, a wispy thing made out of elastic and lace. It takes only the slightest twist of my fingers at a weak point for it to snap.

  “Oh,” she says.

  I part her cunt lips and push two fingers up inside her juicy pussy. “Oh!” she says again, only this time her voice is huskier. She tries to turn her face toward me but I press her jaw until she’s facing the television.

  “Eyes straight ahead, Angel. This is your favorite show, remember?”

  “Yes, but—“

  “Nope.” I bite her shoulder. “No buts. You watch while I relieve your stress.” She does as she’s instructed. I don’t know how much she sees of the show, how much she takes in. My attention is on her and how her sweet pussy sucks my fingers deeper inside of her. She drenches my hand and I use that lubrication to move faster, pinning her plump pussy lips between my fingers. The sounds of me fucking her juicy cunt are joined by her breathless pants. As her pussy grows more sensitive, she tries to close her legs but I force them apart, digging the tips of my fingers into her tender thighs.

  She comes with a high, thin whine emanating from her throat.

  “There you go, Angel, come for me.” My wife’s hot pussy convulses around me. Her orgasm feels like tiny butterfly kisses up and down my fingers. Her tremors set off the fuse of my own pleasure. Cum roars out of my cock and spills into my jeans. My vision blurs as I hammer into her tender cunt with my hand until her spine turns to jelly.

  She collapses on my chest. I slowly finger fuck her until she stops shuddering and her breath returns to normal. “Time for bed,” I announce.

  “I didn’t get to see the end of the show,” she murmurs.

  With her cradled in my arms, I get to my feet and make my way to the bedroom. “It’s a good thing we have it taped. You can watch it later.” Much later. I’m going to have to strip her down and ravage her. My dick is too hungry to be ignored. I strip off our clothes, spread her legs wide apart, and plunge into her without another word. I hold her like that, wide open for me and my invasive cock. It’s been two days and that’s too long to be without her cunt around my fingers, around my cock. Desire makes me weak and hungry. I want to devour her in one bite. I thrust into her again and again until her pussy is filled with my cum. I clean us up with one leg of my pants before dropping onto the mattress. I tug the comforter over the both of us and close my eyes. It’s been a busy couple of days, but I’m home with my woman in our bed. That’s the way I want to end each day. I stroke my hand down her back and wait for her to fall asleep. I always wait.

  Balance is important in this world, but so is Angel’s peace of mind. I can never be satisfied unless she is safe and happy.

  Chapter Eight

  Angel

  “What are you doing?” I look up to see my sister standing over me. I shove my knitting disaster under the coffee shop table so that she doesn’t see it.

  “What are you doing here?” I feign innocence asking my own question.

  “I always get my coffee here. The question is what are you doing?” She drops down into the chair across from mine. “There is a coffee shop next to the courthouse.” She leans over a bit to try to get a peek at what I’m hiding.

  She’s right, there is a coffee shop right next to work but I de
cided to head toward her neck of the woods. She motions with her hand for me to give her my knitting mess. I pull it out from under the table and hand it over. She doesn't even try to fight a laugh. She cracks up when she sees my disaster.

  “I’m terrible at this.” I pick my hot chocolate up, taking a drink. “No one knows me here.”

  “Why does it matter if people know you?” Within seconds she undoes the mess I’ve made. Her hands are magic or something. She doesn’t even have to look as she knits.

  “I feel guilty even saying why,” I admit.

  “I’m your sister. This is the no shame zone.” She holds up my half-done knitted hat. “I’m not even making fun of you about this.” She sets it down onto the table knowing I don’t want her to do it for me. I am going to make this hat if it kills me.

  “You remember that guy from the grocery store?”

  “Mr. Creepy?” She raises her perfect eyebrows in question.

  “You think he’s creepy, too?” I often feel like I’m the only one that thinks this. Women around the courthouse fawn all over Chad. He dazzles jurors with his fake charm. I really don’t get it. I don’t understand how people don’t see through him. I guess he isn’t bad on the eyes, but he gives off a weird vibe that crawls up my spine every time I see him and gives me the chills. It might be because I know he’s sheisty as shit.

  “I think the way he was looking at you was creepy.”

  “Well, it’s him I’m avoiding. He’s always around and one of the hearings that I was supposed to record for today settled so I have a few hours to kill until my next.”

  “Lucas know about this?” I shake my head no quickly. “Why not?” My mouth opens but no words come out. Why haven't I told him that Chad has been popping up on me randomly? “If he’s creeping you out you should say something.”

  “It’s not against the law to be creepy.” I take another drink of my hot chocolate. “People think my Lucas can be creepy.”

  I don’t care for it when I hear people say that about him. He isn’t creepy. He is brilliant. He is the reason that bad men and women who’ve done horrible things get what they deserve. My man has a mind like no other.

  He jokes that he can be somewhat OCD but he pays attention to details. He always tells me that everything is in the details. That no matter how small they may be that they are important.

  It’s part of how he won me over so quickly. There wasn't a thing he missed when it came to me. He notices every breath I take. I wiggle in my seat trying to get my mind from wandering down that path. He’s so attuned to my body because he pays attention to the sounds I make. He knows when I like something, which in turn allows him to bring me great pleasure.

  The man really believes I’m an angel. One he must protect and always take care of. I think that might be part of the reason why I haven't said something to him about Chad showing up all of the time. What if I am wrong? What if they are just coincidences?

  The man is a lawyer. He has to be at the courthouse and it’s not unreasonable for him to be out at places around the courthouse either. I’m not sure if Lucas is the jealous type. I don’t think there has ever been a reason for him to be. If I said something it could make things weird for everyone.

  “Lucas is not creepy. He’s wicked smart and can read people. It’s only creepy if you have something to hide.” Gina has been team Lucas from the moment I introduced them. Before he came along I’d been on a dry spell, having given up on dating. It was only one bad date after another at that point. Then Lucas came into my life. I don’t think we’ve ever had a bad date. The man is perfect.

  “I lucked out the day Lucas came into my life. He’s hot and crazy smart.” He is irresistible. I don’t know how some other woman hadn’t snagged him up before me. If people can't see what I do, maybe that is a good thing. They will stay away from my husband. Okay, I might be the jealous one. Not that I have to worry about Lucas. That man will never leave me. He meant every word of those wedding vows when he said them. ‘Til death do us part.

  “Let’s not forget he’s out of his mind crazy in love with you.” I smile at her because it’s the truth. She reaches her hand across the table to grab mine. “All kidding aside, if you’re feeling a certain way about Chad, I think you should tell Lucas.”

  I squeeze her hand. “I don’t think it’s to that point yet, but I promise I will.” She stares at me, not convinced by my words. “I will!” I reassure her. If he does something else, I’ll bring it up to Lucas. Until then I hope it goes away and it really is all in my head.

  “Good. Now, who did Lucas say was going to win? I’m thinking Peggy. Is it Peggy? He always guesses right.” I open my mouth to tell her what Lucas told me but she stops me. “Wait, don’t tell me. It will ruin it. I’ll wait like everyone else.” I laugh because she’s right. Lucas always does get it right.

  Chapter Nine

  Lucas

  “Cause of death is asphyxiation, specifically suffocation. Cyanotic tissue is visible around the mouth and chest and extremities. There are signs of petechiae in the eyes and along the neck.”

  “Use broken blood vessels,” I suggest, interrupting the intern’s dictation. When she looks up, I explain, “it’s easier for the lay people to understand what you’re saying. Not many people will know petechiae are tiny hemorrhages but most will understand broken blood vessels. You write these reports for police officers, prosecutors, judges, and jurors.”

  “Okay, gotcha. There are signs of broken blood vessels around the eyes, along the neck and in the wrists.” She checks with me again to see if I approve. I do and signal for her to continue. The process of dictating the report goes on for another twenty minutes. I point out a couple of areas that I think the intern has missed but overall, I’m pleased with her progress. After she finishes, she puts the dictation equipment away and starts to clean up the report while I zip up the body and push it into the containment unit.

  “Who do you think did this?” the intern asks as she fixes the dictation errors in the document.

  “That’s for the detectives to figure out. We merely examine the bodies brought to us and make conclusions about the time and manner of death.”

  “Right, but aren’t you a little curious? Like this woman who was suffocated. Most people that die of asphyxiation are strangled, but this woman was suffocated and there weren’t any signs of defensive wounds. She had some alcohol but not enough to render her unconscious. It would’ve had to happen in her sleep.”

  With someone she trusted, I mentally add. The detectives should be able to narrow it down easily. We were able to pinpoint the death within a thirty-minute period. There would only be a few people in contact with the deceased during the time of death.

  “They’ll be able to figure it out. Lee and Sanchez are very good,” I assure the intern. Almost too good. If I didn’t have my position and their trust, perhaps I would’ve been caught, but they are handicapped in a way that they don’t even suspect. Some crimes don’t need to be solved, though. It’s not a mark against them and I hope they don’t take it as one.

  “I’m guessing it’s her husband. It’s always the husband, isn’t it? Or the boyfriend. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m single.” She sighs heavily as she punches the print button. Once the report is printed out, signed and stamped, we both clean up the room for our next examination.

  “Where’d you meet Angel?” the intern asks as we wipe down the table.

  “At the grocery store. She was struggling with the self-checkout.” In actuality, I’d seen her on the street and followed her inside the store. Her struggling actually was the result of me leaning on the scale when she was trying to weigh her tomatoes. I confessed later and she laughed.

  “Huh. I guess I should stop using the delivery service then. I usually order all my groceries in because I hate people but I’m tired of being alone. I want someone, but I also don’t. Do you know what I mean?”

  I actually do so I give the girl a terse nod. Angel is the only person
I love. The rest of the world I merely tolerate. If I hadn’t met Angel, if I hadn’t seen her on the street, I would be alone. She keeps me tethered to this world, makes me realize that there is some part of humanity worth saving.

  “I’ve been trying to use those dating apps but once they start asking what I do, no one’s interested. People think it’s creepy.” The intern sighs. “You’re lucky, Doc.”

  “Yes, I am.” Angel’s too good for me, a person who deals in death every day. It follows me even after I leave here, even though I shower using the special soap Angel bought me. There’s something about death that lingers. I can spot a murderer a mile away. The stench of death never leaves them; it hovers like a dark cloud. Others see it, too. I know most people in the city call me Dr. Death and that even the lawyers and cops who rely on my work don’t like me much. They’re afraid death is contagious. This sort of social ostracization doesn’t bother me, but it weighs heavily on my young intern’s shoulders. I clear my throat and search for something to say. “You’ll find the one,” I settle on.

  The intern shrugs her shoulders. “I suppose. Anyway, Angel’s a doll. Of course she wouldn’t hold your career against you. That’s why everyone loves her. She even has the defense lawyers wrapped around her little finger. Chad Dering is always talking about her.”

  “He is?” My fingers curl around the scalpel.

  “Yup. He said she’s the only court reporter he wants to work with.”

  I force my hand to drop the scalpel and walk calmly over to the sink. “It’s time to take a break.”

  “Already? We have two more—“

  “Yes. Now.” I wipe my hands off and slap the towel against the edge of the sink. Chad’s office is a brisk ten-minute walk from the coroner’s building. I arrive in six minutes. There’s a woman sitting at the reception desk when I throw open the outer door. She smiles and starts to welcome me, but the bright look fades when I brush by her without a word.