“Chad,” I start. Why does he have to make this awkward? Not only does he know that I’m married by the giant ring that I wear on my finger but he also knows who my husband is. Everyone knows who Lucas is.
The sexy medical examiner that some think is a tad creepy. I get it. Cutting up people and dissecting their bodies is strange but he is doing his job and finding out how people died. He is the best in the state. My husband knows what he is doing. I bet if they’d found Mr. Andrew’s wife, whose body is still missing, my husband would have nailed Mr. Andrews to his permanent new jail cell.
“I want to talk to you about a job.” I jerk back. There go my stellar skills at keeping myself neutral.
“I really have to go. I told my husband I’d meet him in a few minutes. If I’m not there he’ll worry.”
“I still can’t believe you married a man who cuts up bodies for a living.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what I think of his career choice, but I don’t. It’s not professional. Still, I can’t help but take a small jab.
“I’d keep in mind what my husband does for a living.” I roll up my window, not wanting to hear whatever else he has to say. I know it will kill him that he didn’t get the last word. I shift my car into reverse and pull out of my spot. The only silver lining to today is that I got out earlier than usual. Lucas always makes me feel better. I know I shouldn’t tell him some of the things that I do about work but I tell him everything anyway.
The man is my rock. He’s been that since he came strolling into the courtroom my first day on the job. I’d hung on his every word as he put a man behind bars that belonged there. To me he isn’t creepy but fascinating. He is the hero of the story. Speaking for the victims when their killers had tried to silence them forever. He is their voice and I love him for it.
Though many might not agree.
Chapter Three
Lucas
The dip in Angel’s forehead in that sweet spot between her brows is deeper than usual, which means something’s bothering her.
“Bad day at work?” I ask after we order–angel hair pasta with shrimp for her and lasagna for me.
“Chad Gilcrest is getting another murderer off. I really hate him. He doesn’t even care about guilt or innocence, just about whether the person he’s defending can pay his ridiculous attorney fee.” She accepts the freshly baked bread that I tore off for her and shoves a piece in her mouth, chewing angrily.
“He’s an asshole,” I agree. While defense lawyers play an important part in the system, there is something off about Chad. I haven’t caught him doing anything wrong other than cheating on his various girlfriends, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a secret in his basement he doesn’t want anyone to see.
“The husband totally did it. I know he did.” She leans forward. “Do you know what he said he was doing at the time she died?”
“What?” I break off another piece of bread for her and lay it on her plate.
“He said he was walking the dog. He brought out his watch logs and showed how he walked this route along the river that he always takes, every day at dusk.”
Every day at dusk, hmmm? “Did he have a lot of routines?”
She chews on the bread for a moment, thinking back over the evidence. She begins to nod slowly. “Yeah, he kind of did. He said he always woke up at 5:45 a.m. and would make coffee. He drank one and a half cups and saved the other half for an afternoon break. He got his mail during his afternoon break and would go through it for fifteen minutes. There were some other details about how he always used the same fork and knife. He was creepy. Very creepy. I can’t believe the jury let him off.”
“Sounds very precise.” Like me. I like my socks folded a certain way, a precise amount of starch in my shirt, and my tools to be in exactly the right order, spaced only a half inch apart. How much does that irritate Angel?
She must read my mind because she reaches out to squeeze my forearm. “It’s cute when you do it because you’re not a murderous serial killer like this dude is.”
I take her fingers and lace them with mine. “Serial killer?” If she only knew…which she doesn’t because if she did, my very law-abiding wife would be horrified and never want me to touch her again.
“Yeah. He killed his first wife but the judge couldn’t let that evidence in. Said it was too harmful and didn’t have enough value. I think the jury would’ve voted to convict if they’d known that this was the second wife he’d offed. And since he’s done away with two of his wives, that makes him a serial killer, don’t you think?”