Most of the time, I did my best not to let the messages get to me. I’d decided to wait out my nasty little friend and not respond. That choice had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, let me tell you. My redheaded temper hadn’t improved with the onset of pending birth, either, so despite my teeth gritting and deleting of the offensive texts that came every other day or so, I’d convinced myself whoever it was would tire of their activity and eventually quit.
I might have had a short fuse, but stubborn? No one did stubborn like Fiona Freaking Fleming.
This was taking the jerk bar really low, though. I mean, you want a piece of me? Come at me, bro. But leave my baby out of it. Still, whoever it was hadn’t taken things past the nasty message stage and, in all honesty, sticks and stones, right? Except as I mashed my thumb on the delete icon while protectively shielding my belly with my free hand, I have to admit I was at the breaking point with my plan. If only my attempts to block the anonymous number(s) would finally work already. Either my enemy had access to a lot of burner phones, or they’d found a way around traditional blocking technology. Regardless of the truth, I was going to have to do something more permanent about the messages, it seemed, before the baby came.
I glanced up as the elevator door opened, Crew guiding me through the doors, guilt warring with the need to vent. No, I hadn’t told him and didn’t plan on it. In fact, I’d intended to tell Daisy, but now that she wasn’t around it felt like I was dealing with the situation alone. Yes, my fault, I got that, without a doubt. But if I thought Crew was protective now… one read of the messages, and he’d lose his mind. Bad enough I’d already relegated myself to desk duty for the foreseeable future. No way was I giving my handsome husband a reason to lock me away from the world until our precious cargo made a permanent appearance.
Scowling at my phone didn’t help. I’d considered changing my phone number, but that would mean coming up with some kind of excuse to tell Crew and I just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Besides, maybe something good (or at least useful) could come from the attacks? Yes, I was deleting the messages, but the contacts were being logged, so if I did manage to find tech to track the sender at some point, look the heck out.
That possibility kept me warm at night.
Sour mood or not, Crew didn’t seem to notice and as we exited the elevator on the main floor, stepping out into the hospital lobby, the sight of a perky and smiling young woman heading our way had my angst softening enough I accepted the warm hug from Dr. Penny Keene before she gently patted my tummy. She’d asked permission over a month ago and I’d granted it, shocked at how many people thought they had the right to just touch my bump without checking in. Leave it to Penny to make sure she didn’t step out of line, the county’s newest ME beaming as she then turned to hug Crew.
“Lloyd told me you were here again,” she said, looking back and forth between us. “Everything okay?”
“Our ultrasound was canceled.” Yup, there was the bitter sullenness I was becoming known for.
“I’m sorry,” her face immediately fell, triggering my guilt for another reason.
“It’s fine,” I waved off my previous statement while shifting my weight from one foot to the other, unable to stop my right hand from creeping around behind me to press to the small of my aching back. “Just a precaution, I guess.” Or was it more than that? Dr. Aberstock was taking my request to watch over me and the beebes very seriously, but was another scan really necessary? I needed to stop panicking every time I thought about it. “I hear you took on your first solo case last week.”
Penny bobbed a nod, dimpled smile returning as her shiny blonde ponytail danced its coordinated response over the white collar of her lab coat. “I guess this means I’m a grown up after all.” Her laugh had a faint trill of nerves to it, but she seemed happy enough. I’d been worried about her and our resident BCI detective. Their relationship had hit a rocky patch in July with the arrival of her former fiancé, Sgt. Kenny Wisner, but she’d since sent him packing and seemed content to carry on dating Rowan Mallory, so hopefully I didn’t have anything to be concerned about. And yes, I was well aware their relationship wasn’t any of my business, but I adored them both and I was hormonal.
Being pregnant excused a lot of sins.
“I’ll see you both at the pep rally tomorrow?” Penny eye rolled as I groaned a little. “I can’t believe you don’t love football.”
I shrugged at the reminder I’d agreed to help my mother support our local high school team. “Boys and balls and violence,” I said, prodding my husband who grinned. “I’ll never understand it.”
“And beer,” Crew reminded me. “And lots of yelling.”
Penny laughed. “Maybe it’s for the best you’re not a fan,” she said, eyeing my belly. “The baby might come early if you get too riled up. You’re sure you have two months to go?” She shook her head with another grin, not knowing her words made my stomach plummet and then churn with renewed anxiety. She was a doctor. She’d know if I was too big. Was there something wrong after all? I had to remind myself as I jerked hard on the coattails of my panic that Penny was a medical examiner, that she dealt with the dead, not the morbidly pregnant.
Except thinking about death only made things worse, didn’t it?
At least I did a good job hiding my anxiety because neither Crew nor Penny seemed to notice, my friend parting ways with another hug for each of us before my husband led the way to our SUV. He made sure I was as comfortable as I could manage and pinned down with the new specialty seatbelt positioner that he’d brought home a month ago before closing my door and circling to take his own place behind the wheel. I wasn’t useless, thanks, but he seemed to think I was, only reinforcing my decision to keep him in the dark about the texts.
The drive home turned into a front seat karaoke contest as our favorite song came over the radio and I was smiling as we turned off the highway and into town. Mayor Olivia Walker had gone all-out with the decorating this year, every lamp post hosting lights and spooky creations, the parking meters dressed up as various witches, ghosts and black cats. She’d even had the street in front of town hall painted in sparkly orange with BOO! written through it in black. This time next year I’d have a pumpkin of my own to deck out in a costume and carry door-to-door in the cool, fall evening, an idea that appealed to me greatly.
Except, as I passed the Happy Halloween! banner that had been strung over Main Street, I caught myself scowling. After all, it wasn’t Olivia who’d enacted the décor, was it? No, it was her newest hire, Karla Jensen. The woman was supposed to be the town’s event planner, but she seemed to be wheedling her way deeper and deeper into the mayor’s good graces. The fact Karla couldn’t stand me? Had her at the top of my crap list and first in line for the identity of the mystery texter. Not that I had proof, but we’d head-butted sufficiently since July I did my best to skirt her and she the same for me.
Way to ruin my attempt at a good mood with curmudgeonness.
“Did Olivia mention her plan to hire a chief of police?” Crew interrupted my reverie as we passed the sheriff’s office where both he and I had once been employed as keepers of Reading’s peace. And while my stint as sheriff hadn’t lasted very long, I still felt a certain fondness for the place that had me shrugging.
“She’s been wanting to send Rowan and the state police packing for a while now,” I said. “But why not just another sheriff?”
“Image,” Crew said in his deep, warm voice, turning at the end of the street and pulling into our driveway, the foursquare’s front door adorned with a festive haunted wreath, the carved pumpkin he’d deposited on the top step grinning its maniacal welcome at us. “Too many bad memories attached to that title. And a chief can be under her full control. Town council always had the right to revert the sheriff post to being an elected position which I hear they’ve suggested, considering.” I guess I didn’t blame them. “Chiefs don’t have that luxury.”
I thought about it as he exited the SUV and came to my door. Oh, trust me, I’d have exited on my own recognizance if I thought he’d let me get away with it. But I’d learned in the last few months my husband’s expression would transform from loving adoration and care to hurt and regret if I didn’t allow him the privilege. I really was a lucky woman. Cranky, but lucky.
“Rowan doesn’t seem all that worried about it,” I said, stepping down as Crew’s strong hands supported me. One of my knees buckled just a bit and I was finally as grateful as I should have been to have him there. He steadied me while I composed myself. “I think he’s sick of cleaning up after us.”
“You mean, he’s sick of you finding dead people.” Crew laughed at that while I wrinkled my nose at him and leaned into him as he let me find my balance. Whew, I really was kind of winded. Maybe Dr. Aberstock was right to be cautious. How was I going to make it eight more weeks again? “Sorry, Fee. I know it’s not funny.”
I was used to being the brunt of that particular joke, so it didn’t hurt all that much. “Are you thinking about taking the job?” He’d earned that dig. Crew’s choice to leave the FBI for the Reading sheriff’s badge that led him to abandoning law enforcement for private detection had seen my husband evolve from strait-laced, by the book, intensity to a more relaxed and intuitive professional who loved what he did so much the idea of seeing him in uniform again seemed laughable.
“I thought you might take it,” he said with a breezy grin. “You’re always in the middle of everything anyway.”
Smartypants husband. I didn’t get to respond to his attempt at being funny (yeah, Crew, ha ha, honey). Mom popped out the front door of The Iris and waved to us before we made it to the steps, the wriggling form of our pug puppy, Petunia the Fifth, clutched against her chest as she called out.
“Come get lunch, you two!” She disappeared back inside before we could respond. My stomach growled, ending any debate that might have come up anyway, Crew laughing at the sound even as his echoed mine.
That made me giggle and lifted the gray pall from inside me. Grinning together, my husband helped me waddle my way down the sidewalk, sun beaming down on us as the scent of fall wafted on the light breeze that seemed to wash my troubles away with a gentle caress.
Two more months? With Crew at my side, I could manage anything.
***