What We Bury

by Carolyn Arnold

  Cynthia shook her head. “Nope. I’m going to try some other photos I have from Carson’s collection and see if any of them work out better, but not today.” She copied the image of the woman to her computer and removed the data stick. As she dropped it into her palm, Cynthia said, “Actually, you and Troy are more than welcome to come over as well. It’s nothing fancy, just some burgers and weenies.” She winked at the last word, Madison not missing the double entendre.

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t think about it or anything.”

  “No, it’s just Troy’s been called in, and I need to get home for Hershey.”

  “Bring him over.”

  Madison laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure Lou would love that. Dog crap in his manicured backyard.”

  Cynthia and Lou lived in a modest two-story home in the west end of the city that he’d owned before marrying her. It had a rather small yard, but it was Lou’s pride and joy.

  “True. Even if you picked it up…”

  “Have fun.” Madison stopped at the doorway on her way out and looked back at the monitor. The woman’s face wasn’t up anymore, but at twenty feet away, Madison couldn’t clearly make out what was on the screen now. Hopefully, that meant that Murphy hadn’t noticed his female friend when he popped his head in. She turned and left but couldn’t help but feeling like she was turning her back on her friend in a metaphorical way. Madison didn’t think Murphy had seen the woman’s face, but if he had… No, she was being ridiculous to even consider he’d do anything to hurt Cynthia or Lou. Then again, if the man kept company with the mob, did he have qualms about anything?

  -

  Twenty-One

  Madison stopped at a drive-thru and decided to give a cheeseburger another try. The way her stomach was tossing, it might have been a bad decision. It was just after five by the time she pulled into her driveway. Somehow seeing the empty spot where Troy’s Expedition normally sat drilled in the fact she was on her own. For tonight? Or was it representative of her near future? Solitude was a familiar friend, but being with Troy this past year, she’d become domesticated. She enjoyed the companionship.

  She let herself in, and Hershey jumped off the couch where he’d been sleeping and scrambled across the floor to her. He barked as if to say, “Hello,” and she bent over and cupped his face, rubbed behind his ears.

  “Hey, buddy. Hey. Wanna go cuddle?” She rushed over to the couch, which was within eyesight of the front door, and sat down. Hershey, the three-year-old and seventy-two-pound chocolate Lab, jumped up and sat with his front legs across her lap and his big head in her face. She wasn’t a huge fan of dog kisses, a.k.a. slobber-infused licks. After all, she’d seen where that tongue went. Hershey kept a bit of distance and peered in her eyes while she petted him and soaked up his velvety-soft fur.

  As she absorbed her canine’s love and dished it back, there was a lot she could have been thinking about: the Carson case, the corrupt cops, the mob, the mystery woman, Cynthia, Troy, and the way life can change…the big C, but this second she wasn’t bogged down with too much thought. She felt more in the moment than she had in a long time.

  Flash back over three years, and who would have seen her with a dog? If it hadn’t been for Terry gifting him to her for Christmas and swearing that he was the best thing for her, she never would have gotten herself a dog. The journey had been a little rough at first and a lot to balance, but now, well, she was a fur-baby momma.

  A flash of mischievous bolted in Hershey’s eyes, and that pink slip of his came out and got her from chin to forehead.

  “Gak, gak.” She sputtered and tried to put the images of him cleaning his nether regions out of her mind, but they were coming strong. As was the single patty, double cheese, and special sauce.

  She shot up and ran down the hall. She again made it in time—barely.

  Afterward, she wiped her face with a cool cloth and met her gaze in the mirror. What if she did have cancer? She closed her eyes and willed the fear away. She certainly couldn’t just sit around in the house dwelling on her symptoms, and she knew better than to google them.

  “So, what now?” Asked out loud as if the walls of the bathroom could hear and answer.

  Hershey’s claws clicked against the floor outside the door, and she had an idea. Hopefully, her stomach, now empty, would cooperate. She opened the door and said, “Hershey, wanna go for a walk?”

  Hershey moaned and then barked. She smiled and leashed him up to make good on her promise to her canine baby.

  Madison walked Hershey for a few blocks and let him set the pace. Thankfully, that was slow, and it suited her tender stomach fine. It was dusk when they set out, but the streetlights had buzzed to life when they turned around to head home. The breeze felt cool, and she was happy she wore her heavier jacket. But the shadows also had her feeling a chill.

  She couldn’t shake thoughts of Garrett Murphy showing up at the lab like that. What if he had seen the woman’s picture? Goose bumps pricked her flesh, and a shiver tore through her. The wind felt like it carried eyes, and she still had some distance to cover before home. She was diligent and cognizant of her surroundings, but her imagination was morphing darkened objects into the forms of people. A backup generator or air conditioning unit was a hunched man. A lawn statue, a person coming toward her. A shrub, a face in the bramble.

  She pulled out her phone, her heart beating fast. She needed a distraction to settle her mind. She called her sister Chelsea.

  “Hey, sis,” she said when Chelsea answered.

  “Troy’s out, and you’re hungry, right? You should come over for dinner.”

  “I call and you assume I need you to feed me.”

  “Well, it’s the dinner hour, so I might have assumed…”

  Madison laughed, though she was a little offended. “Who’s cooking?”

  “Me.”

  Her sister was a wife and mother of three, and while she excelled in those roles, her culinary skills could use some work. Madison liked to think she was better in the kitchen. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “Hey!”

  Madison laughed. No need to tell Chelsea she’d already tried food and it had disagreed with her. “So, what’s going on with you these days?” She hadn’t spoken to her sister in a couple weeks. There were six years between them in age, Madison the elder, but it would seem Chelsea was most of the time. She just had her life so put together.

  Something scurried across a person’s lawn, and Hershey tugged, yanking Madison’s arm out straight. She held the leash steady and projected the energy of her being the alpha. Hershey, it would seem, was jumping at shadows too. She picked up her pace.

  “Nothing much,” Chelsea said. “Life is rather dull at the moment. What about you? Anything exciting going on in the world of law enforcement?”

  The fact Chelsea could still find enthusiasm for what Madison did touched her. Especially considering if anyone should detest Madison’s job, her sister had that right. Because of Madison’s poking around at the Russian Mafia, Chelsea had gotten caught up in the mess last December. A mob hit man had kidnapped her for the purpose of luring out Madison, which he accomplished, but it just hadn’t paid off as he’d intended. Chelsea was still in therapy due to her days in captivity, but she was nothing if not resilient.

  “Maddy?”

  “Picked up a new murder case yesterday.”

  A few beats of silence, then, “That sounds wonderful.”

  Madison laughed at her sister’s sarcasm. “It’s what I do.”

  “And you’re good at it. Just remember to live a little too. You’ve got that beautiful man, and he loves you.”

  “I know.” The words were out, and Madison picked them apart. Did she know that anymore? Or was it merely something she wished for? Maybe she’d reached her expiry date and Troy was trying to find a gentle way of letting her go. But it
was the hope, wistfulness, and anticipation in her sister’s tone that was contagious. Madison hadn’t told her that she thought Troy was going to propose. She didn’t want Chelsea upset with him or to get excited about something that might never happen. Bad enough that her sister had once said Madison and Troy would make beautiful kids. Madison had booed that statement and asked that her sister never bring up children again. She wasn’t exactly wired for motherhood. Besides, when would she have the time?

  Madison walked up the concrete path to the front door of the Craftsman bungalow, a place she now called home, but it had taken a few months to change from “Troy’s place.” She’d even kept her apartment for a while after she’d moved in case their relationship crashed and burned.

  “I’ll let you get back to your exciting life,” Madison said.

  “Yeah, sure. First, finish up and mow down dinner. Then it’s dishes and vacuuming. Wahoo.”

  “Fun times.”

  “I can hardly contain my excitement. Love you.” With that, her sister hung up before Madison could reciprocate or say goodbye.

  She let herself and Hershey into the house, wiped his paws with a towel near the front door, and freed him of the leash and collar. He headed straight for his water bowl. She went after him and filled up his food dish and pet the back of his head. “You’re such a good boy.”

  He crunched away at his meal.

  Now what? She’d never been good at sitting still. The clock on the wall showed it was just after six thirty. There were hours to go before showing up at Club Sophisticated would even make sense.

  She returned to the front door, flipped on the outdoor light, and closed the curtains in the living room. She never relished being on display for her neighbors. When she turned, her gaze went down the hall to the master bedroom door. Her thoughts went to Troy. Had he planned to propose and then changed his mind? If so, there might be a ring around somewhere. But would he have left it in the house on the off chance she’d find it, or would he take it to work and hide it there or entrust it to a friend?

  She hurried in the direction of the bedroom and straight to Troy’s dresser.

  She rooted through every drawer, setting aside his clothing carefully so as not to unfold any. She hated all stages of the laundry process, but Troy picked up the slack. If their relationship went south, she’d have to wash her own clothes again.

  She finished searching all five drawers and…nada.

  She stood back. Confused and clueless. But Troy would be too smart to hide the ring—if there was one—in their room. He’d have to know she might get suspicious and ruin the surprise. She tapped a finger to her chin. “Hmm.”

  Hershey sauntered into the room and looked up at her. She swore he was judging her.

  “Don’t you look at me like that.”

  But maybe he had every right. She should suspend the Easter-egg hunt altogether, but there was a buzzing in her brain that nattered mercilessly. If she could find a ring, she could at least prove to herself that she wasn’t crazy for believing he was going to propose. After all, she was a detective and had always considered herself to have a knack for seeing people for who they were, not what they presented. She hated to think she couldn’t read her own boyfriend.

  But what if he turned up while she was in the middle of searching the house?

  She pulled out her phone and checked his text. He had said he’d be home quite late.

  That meant she had time, but did she really want to go through with a more in-depth search?

  -

  Twenty-Two

  Madison had spent a couple hours snooping around. She’d rummaged through all the kitchen cupboards and drawers, the pantry, the guest room, in every nightstand and dresser they had. She returned to the kitchen, hands on hips, certain she was missing something. She was also exhausted, and it was only about eight o’clock. She wouldn’t make it to stake out the club tonight if she didn’t start caffeinating now.

  She went to the coffeemaker and set about making a pot. Used filter dumped, new filter in. Next, coffee grounds, which were in—the freezer! She hadn’t even thought to look there or in the fridge.

  She moved around bags upon bags of frozen vegetables that Troy loved and two boxes of toaster waffles she loved.

  No ring.

  She closed the freezer door and looked in the fridge. Fresh vegetables and… She studied the packaging. Tofu. Ick! Definitely a Troy thing. She’d support his nutritional choices because it obviously did his body good, but she wouldn’t be consuming that crap anytime soon.

  The fridge came up empty too.

  She reopened the freezer, grabbed the coffee, and started the machine. The smell alone was intoxicating. She dropped into a kitchen chair and inhaled.

  Her phone rang. Caller ID told her it was Cynthia.

  Madison answered. “You get a hit?”

  “Whoa, slow down.”

  “Sorry,” Madison backpedaled. But if she had an identity, that would eliminate the need to track the mystery woman at the club tonight.

  “I wasn’t calling about work, but no hits on the woman before I left.”

  “But it’s still running?”

  “Yes. So, what’s up, girl?”

  Madison smiled. “Thought you called me.”

  “I did, but you sound intense.”

  Her friend sounded like she’d been drinking wine.

  “So…what are you doing?” Cynthia asked.

  Madison hesitated to admit the truth, but this was Cynthia, her best friend, who knew that Madison had expected a proposal and how it was eating away at her. “I’m tearing the house apart looking for the ring.”

  “The— Oh.”

  “Yeah. I know I shouldn’t be—”

  “No, I totally understand. And Troy’s not home so… Hey, I’ll be right over, and we can look together.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’ve looked every—”

  “You find it, then?”

  “No.”

  “Then you haven’t looked everywhere. I’m quite sure he hid it around your place somewhere. On my way.”

  “I thought you guys had Garrett over tonight, and do you really think you should be driv—”

  Click.

  All righty then. At least her friend hadn’t called it the lost proposal, as she’d dubbed it before. The term just came across so hopeless, as if the proposal would never happen. Madison preferred delayed to lost. At least it carried promise.

  Madison could call Cynthia back, but if her friend answered, it would just be to say, “I’m on my way,” before hanging up again. Cynthia had a way of latching on to something when she set her mind to it, much like Madison did.

  Madison poured herself a cup of coffee and drank it slowly. Her stomach seemed to be handling the drink fine, so she took a second cup to the living room and watched some TV while she waited for Cynthia.

  Despite the coffee, she nodded off to Hershey’s snoring next to her on the couch with her hand on his neck, her fingers buried in his fur.

  The doorbell rang, and it sounded like it was coming from the other side of the world. Madison opened her eyes. Characters in a sitcom were going on about quantum physics. She enjoyed the show when she could stay awake. More a statement about her than the show. She usually only dropped in front of the television when she was too tired for much else.

  The time on the cable box told her it was nine thirty. She hadn’t been asleep for that long, but Cynthia had taken her sweet time getting there.

  The doorbell rang again, followed by knocking.

  “Just a minute.” She unlocked the dead bolt and swung the door open.

  Cynthia was standing there in a coat over plaid pajama bottoms and holding a steaming pizza box and a bottle of red wine.

  The food smelled delicious, but Madison would have to leave the wine alo
ne if she was going to get to the club later.

  “Thought you could use something to eat, and the men ate all the burgers and dogs.” Cynthia handed the box to Madison, and her stomach rumbled with hunger. Tony’s Pizzeria was stamped on the lid. They made the best pie in Stiles and surrounding area.

  “See!” Cynthia jabbed a pointed finger to the logo. “Only the best, and it’s fresh from the oven. Pepperoni, mushrooms, double cheese.”

  “Oh my god, you’re an angel!” Madison held the box in one hand and threw her other arm around Cynthia. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  She took the pizza to the kitchen, leaving Cynthia at the entry to shuck her shoes and coat.

  “I guess I was right to assume you wouldn’t be eating because you were home alone.” Cynthia joined her in the kitchen.

  Madison bit into a slice. Heaven. She could be offended that yet again she was underestimated to fend for herself, but if that opinion made people feed her, well, there were worse things. “The best pizza ever!”

  Cynthia laughed and proceeded to pour two glasses of wine.

  “Oh, just a little for me,” Madison called out. “Speaking of… You’re looking…um, relaxed. You didn’t drive, did you?’ She spoke around the bursting organism of flavor going on in her mouth.

  “Please give me more credit than that. I took a cab.”

  “What’s going on at your place anyway? Why leave?”

  Cynthia tossed her head back and smiled. “Why leave? Let me see… The air is so thick with testosterone, I’m choking.”

  Madison chuckled and bit off more pizza. Sauce squeezed out the corner of her mouth, and she dabbed it with her fingertip.

  Cynthia sat next to Madison, handed her a glass, and raised her own. “To being women.”

  Madison lifted her glass. “To being—”

  “Correction. To finding that damn ring,” Cynthia cut in just before their glasses met.

  Madison could drink to that, so she did. Just a little. Then returned to devouring the pizza. By the end of the second slice, she finally seemed to surface and really take in her friend’s wardrobe. A cotton pajama set. “You spending the night?”