My husband isn’t a cop but sometimes things go bad at a crime scene. People are crazy and you never know what could happen. Worry fills my stomach as my pace picks up. I fling open the door to see Detectives Lee and Sanchez standing there.
“What happened? Where is Lucas?” My eyes fill with tears. “Is he okay?”
“Ma’am.” Lee looks at me with a perplexed look.
“Lucas is fine.” Sanchez elbows Lee. “She thinks something happened to her husband. Two cops at your door late at night is never a good sign.”
“Oh. Sorry Mrs. Calvery. I’m sure Lucas is fine. We actually are here to talk to you.”
“You know you can call me Angel.” I wipe my eyes, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. I’ve never thought about losing Lucas before. I’m not sure that is something I could handle or want to think about. There is so much bad in the world that Lucas is the one person that I can always count on to put a smile on my face at the end of a shitty day.
“Angel.” Lee nods. “Can we have a moment of your time?”
“Of course.” I step back, opening the door. “Can you guys do me a favor and not tell Lucas that I opened the door without looking?” I tease. Well, it’s kind of a tease. He’d redden my ass if he knew that I randomly opened the door without identifying who was on the other side first. He’s always so worried about my safety. “Actually you can tell him.” Lee gives me another one of those perplexed looks.
“Coffee.” I change the subject as I open the door wider, motioning for them to come into the living room. They follow behind me, closing the door behind them.
“No thanks, Angel.” Sanchez looks around our home, her eyes scanning the place. “Nice place you have here.” It is a very nice place. Lucas is good with money. The man is good at anything he puts his mind to.
“Thank you.” I take a seat on the edge of the recliner. Both of them sit on the sofa facing me.
“Where is the doc?” Lee looks around. I start to say at work but wouldn't they know that? Maybe not.
“He stepped out for a moment.” I fold my hands into my lap.
“Chad Dering,” Sanchez finally says. I cringe at the man’s name. Of course that’s why they’re here. My husband assaulted him in a parking lot full of cameras. Would it really be considered assault? I had been frightened. Chad had basically been holding me against my will. He wouldn't move out of my way. If you ask me, he had it coming. I’m not so sure the laws would agree with me. I am finding that I don’t agree with a lot of them myself anymore either.
“I’m sorry, Angel, but I’ve got to ask.” I try not to fidget with my fingers. I can tell both detectives look as uncomfortable about this as me. “Has Chad ever made you feel uncomfortable?”
I lick my lips wondering why they aren't asking about the parking lot. They might be working their way into it. The thought of me needing a lawyer crosses my mind.
“Why would you ask me that?” I try and dodge the question with one of my own.
“To be frank with you, we’ve been looking into Chad. It’s come up that some people think he has a thing for you. They’ve noticed some weird behavior on his part when it pertains to you.”
“Did Chad do something wrong?” I try not to sound too hopeful. The man should be behind bars. I don’t know why but I’m sure he’s done something. He is so unsettling. The way he cornered me against my car.
“We can’t really discuss that.” Sanchez shrugs, looking apologetic. I tell them the truth. About Chad seeming to be everywhere that I was. That he offered me a job that I turned down. The way that he’d cornered me in the parking lot. I tell them everything except the part about Lucas throwing Chad into his car. I don’t tell them that. I don’t lie, I just conveniently leave that part out.
“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Lee asks. I hate this. I don’t want to get Lucas in trouble, but I can’t tell how much they know.
“To be honest I don’t really want to talk about this without Lucas.” I drop my head, looking down at my hands, pretending to be shy and scared about all of this.
“I understand.” Sanchez stands. Lee follows suit.
“Thank you for your time.” Lee nods to me. I lead them to the door, saying goodbye and locking it behind them. I lean up against it wondering when Lucas will be home. I don't even know where he is and based on my conversation with Detectives Sanchez and Lee, they don’t either.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucas
Lee and Sanchez are in the examination room when I arrive. Sanchez is sprawled on my chair, toying with my mouse and Lee is spinning on one of the rolling stools. Since Angel told me that they stopped by, I knew they would be coming. I wasn’t sure what angle they were going to take. Are they accusing me or concerned about my wife?
“I heard you had a run-in with Dering the other day. Want to tell us about it?” Chavez says, not even waiting for me to hang up my coat.
“He was in my wife’s space and didn’t need to be.” I place my leather jacket on the hook and shrug on my lab coat.
“You hit him.”
“You’re free to book me on assault.” The inventory of bodies appears to have increased by two overnight. The new additions are elderly, arrivals from the Good Life retirement home. I’ll have the intern work on these since there’s a car accident victim that needs to be completed.
“It’s not a good look for the county coroner to be attacking a prominent defense attorney. It could be brought up during cross-examination and make you look less impartial.” Sanchez is stalling. She’s not literally wringing her hands, but she doesn’t like being here and asking questions of me. But she brings up a valid concern. I hadn’t thought of it and I admit that. “I wasn’t thinking of anything but that my wife was being harassed. Should that be brought up in court, too?”
Sanchez grimaces. “Look, I don’t want to ask—“
“We don’t want to ask,” Lee interjects. He leans forward, placing his hands on his knees. “But we have to.”
“Or we wouldn’t be good detectives,” adds Sanchez.
I pull the car victim out of the cooler. Sanchez and Lee both turn away as the smell escapes the sealed unit.
Lee puts a finger against his nose, but Sanchez braves the smell. “The thing is while a number of the victims were represented by Dering, he’s not a surgeon. Based on statements from his housekeeper, Dering can’t wield a butter knife, let alone one of these.” She holds up a scalpel.
“I’m very good with the scalpel.” In another life, maybe I would’ve been a surgeon, but I chose this route instead. It’s the best of both worlds. I get to avoid the pesky practice of dealing with live humans and I can wield my blade.
“Yeah, you are.” Lee’s head jerks up. “Wait, are you confessing?”
“To being good with the knife?” I reach over and pluck the scalpel out of Sanchez’s hands and drop it onto a tray of used instruments ready for sterilization. “It would be foolish for me to lie about that. You’ve watched me work.”