“Yes, it’s expensive, but it probably wouldn’t even put a dent in our savings because my wife is a genius and a shrewd negotiator who could, in all likelihood, get us a great deal.” After almost nineteen years, he knew precisely which buttons to push.
“I know what you’re doing,” Lydia said as she turned over.
He looked into her eyes that were the color of the sky on a beautiful spring morning and sighed. “Baby, we need some time to get away. Just the two of us. I want to go with my wife to the most romantic city in the world. Is that so wrong?”
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled softly. Cupping his cheek, she said, “I’ll look over the figures and see if we can do it.”
He grinned. Coming from Lydia, that was even better than a yes. It meant she would look over the figures and make it work.
“Paris, here we come.”
She shook her head and poked him in the ribs. “If you want to see Paris sometime this century, it’s time to get up.” John groaned in protest.
“Or we could stay in bed and be late for work, after which there will be a rapid descent into poverty as we lose our jobs and never find work again. That would mean no Paris,” she continued.
John rolled his eyes but still threw the covers off himself. “Yes, I’m sure we’ll both be fired for being a few minutes late and end up dumpster diving.”
That was his Lydia. Though she was generally a very optimistic person, she could exaggerate on occasion. He rolled out of bed and stretched. He heard Lydia sigh and looked back at her curiously.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied with a blush. He grinned.
He found it amazing, and not a little sexy, that even after all this time, she could still blush. She’d obviously been checking him out. He told himself, it was understandable. Even though he was almost fifty, he kept himself in good shape with regular trips to the gym and a very clean diet.
“Like what you see?” He waggled his eyebrows at her and Lydia laughed, throwing a pillow at him.
“You know I do, now stop fishing for compliments and get ready.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a salute. With a grin still on his face, he made his way to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, he was downstairs in the kitchen, pouring coffee for both of them. Two sugars and milk for Lydia and black for him. He placed the cups on the island and switched the television on to listen to the morning news.
Opening the fridge, he took out eggs, Canadian bacon, bell peppers, onions, and mushrooms. It was his turn to get breakfast ready. He chopped the vegetables and glanced at the clock.
“Hun, your coffee’s getting cold,” he called out.
“Coming,” she shouted back. A few minutes later, she walked up behind him and looked around him to see what he was making. “Omelet? What’s the occasion?” They tended to stick to simpler meals in the morning that didn’t involve cooking.
“Can’t a man do something nice for his wife without it being a special occasion?” he asked.
She cocked an eyebrow but smiled. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’d think I never do anything for you,” he grumbled.
She laughed as she sat at the island. “No, I just like to keep you on your toes. Can’t have you forgetting to keep doing stuff for me. You know, to show me how much you care,” she replied with a wink. Taking a sip of her coffee, she closed her eyes and moaned in satisfaction.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded with a pleased look on her face. “Perfect.”
He turned back to the omelets he was making. “We’re still on for tonight, right?”
It was their date night, and he’d made reservations at a fancy French restaurant. He’d actually been secretly working on the idea of a trip to Paris over the past few weeks, dropping hints here and there. It seemed to have worked quite well.
“Unless some emergency comes up, sure,” Lydia replied.
“We’ll leave around seven. Our reservations are for half-past so that should give us plenty of time to get to the restaurant.”
“Sounds good. My shift ends at six, so I’ll be able to get home and change, no problem.” She paused for a moment. “But what about you? You don’t finish until six-thirty. Please tell me you aren’t going like that.”
“I was planning on getting changed. I just don’t need three hours to do it.”
“Aren’t we hilarious this morning?”
He grinned at her. “Just saying it like it is.”
“You’re lucky you’re so good-looking, or I’d have booted you out ages ago,” she grumbled.
He dished out the omelet onto two plates and set hers down in front of her with a kiss to her cheek. “I knew you only wanted me for my good looks,” he said with a wink.
“You got that right,” she replied with a sparkle in her eye.
He grabbed hold of his chest. “You wound me so, my lady.”
She just rolled her eyes. “You can be so melodramatic, sometimes.”
“That’s precisely why you love me.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she said.
He paused for a moment to look at her. He covered the hand she rested on the table with his own. “I love you more than my own life,” he said seriously.
She turned her hand over and gripped his. “I love you, too, my darling.”
That afternoon, John sat at his desk, glaring at the computer screen in front of him as if that would help him find something that apparently wasn’t there.
“Who the hell sealed this file?” he muttered to himself. He would speak to his superintendent to see if he could gain access. It was the only lead they had on the case he’d been working, however vague it might be, and he really needed to get into that file.
Just as he was about to get up, he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw a uniformed officer approach him. “Detective,” the man said hesitantly. When the cop said nothing further and simply stood there fidgeting, John decided he’d better prompt him or they’d be there all day. He knew he had a reputation for being tough, but this was ridiculous.
“What is it, Constable?” he asked.
The man swallowed hard. “Detective Gregson would like to see you in the waiting room, sir.”
“The waiting room?”
“Yes, sir. He wants to talk to you privately.” The waiting room was hardly what one would call private since it was mostly glass, but it was less public than the bullpen. That fact made John curious about what his longtime partner and friend, Liam Gregson, wanted to tell him. And why he hadn’t come to get him himself.
John glanced up and nodded. “Thank you.” He got up slowly and walked into the waiting room. He closed the door behind him and stopped to stare at his buddy. The man looked shell-shocked.
“Everything okay, Liam?” he asked. Something was up. He’d never seen Liam so shaken, and they’d been partners for more than five years.
“John, we need to talk,” His tone was grave, which made John freeze. Liam was an easy-going guy who was always cracking jokes. Some thought his sense of humor morbid at times, but it was Liam’s way of coping with the terrible things they dealt with day in and day out.
John looked at Liam. He really looked at him. The clenched jaw, the moisture in his eyes, the fidgeting, the stooped posture. It wasn’t a demeanor that was unfamiliar to John. Liam got this way every time they had to deliver terrible news to a family. The only difference was that this time Liam looked even more devastated than usual.
“No,” John whispered, suddenly catching on. “No, I don’t want to hear it.” He really didn’t want to hear what Liam had to tell him. The younger man’s body language was a clear indicator that whatever it was, he was not going to like it at all. Sending Liam to talk to him meant that whatever had happened, it affected him intimately, and it was serious.
“I’m sorry, John,” Liam said, his voice strangled.
John began to pray. Plea
se, not my girls. Not my girls. Please, God, let them be all right. I’ll do anything. Please… “Diana?” John managed to choke out after a moment’s hesitation.
Liam shook his head. “Is Lydia—”, John’s throat clenched, and he had to push the words out. “Is she okay?” he managed.
“I’m so sorry, John.” John watched the lone tear that tracked down Liam’s left cheek, his whole world reduced to that single droplet as it made its way lower and lower down the other man’s face until it disappeared into nothingness. He couldn’t process anything else. Not even what that tear meant. Certainly not what Liam’s words meant.
His hands clenched into fists. The cheap plastic pen he’d been holding snapped in half. It sounded like a gunshot in the silence. He looked out into the bullpen and realized that everyone was completely silent. There were fifteen or so detectives and uniformed officers currently working out there. Normally, they were a curious and noisy bunch. Yet everyone was going about their business in complete silence, and they seemed to be doing their best not to even glance in the direction of the waiting room.
Everyone knew. They all knew. But no, there was nothing to know. “Lydia’s fine,” he muttered. “She’s fine. We had coffee this morning. She kissed me good-bye. We’re having dinner tonight at that fancy new place that just opened up on Alberni.”
“John,” Liam whispered as he grabbed his forearm. “I’m really sorry but…” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Lydia’s dead.”
John’s stomach heaved. His temperature ratcheted up until he felt as if he was burning from the inside. He stared at his hands, unwilling to look at Liam and the sadness he’d see in the other man’s eyes. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He couldn’t break down. Not here.
“What happened?” his voice was barely above a whisper.
Liam shook his head. “I’m not sure. The call came in a little while ago. They found her b—they found Lydia at the hospital, in the nurse’s rec room.”
“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”
He knew he was being ridiculous. It was a hospital. They’d know if someone was dead. But he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge that he’d never again see the smiling face of the woman he had loved for almost two decades.
The pitying look Liam gave him made John want to roar at the other man. He wanted to rage at the world. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to… He wanted Lydia to be alive. He wanted to turn back the clock and tell her to take a day off. To tell her that she worked too hard and that she needed to rest.
“What happened? I need to know what happened, Liam!” He hadn’t even finished his sentence properly before he was surging to his feet, yanking open the door.
“John, they won’t let you in!” Liam shouted after him. But John ignored his partner and stalked back to his desk. He grabbed his car keys and stormed out of the bullpen. He’d shout and scream and holler until they let him see her. His Lydia.
He heard running feet behind him. “Give me the keys,” Liam said.
“I have to see her.” He didn’t break stride for a moment.
“I know. But give me the damned keys. I’ll drive. You’ll kill yourself.”
John cut him a look. “Maybe I should.”
“Don’t be stupid! What about Diana?”
Diana didn’t know. He’d have to tell her. Oh God, she was going to be devastated. He laughed humorlessly. He had no idea what he was going to say.
“We’ll do it together,” Liam promised. John hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.
Shrugging, he threw Liam the keys and got into the passenger side of the SUV. He stared out the window, unseeing as the scenery flew past. He knew Liam would do the right thing. He could trust him with that. Just as he knew the younger man would help him break the news to Diana.
He wasn’t even sure he could actually say his wife’s name and that word in the same sentence. He couldn’t say dead. He just couldn’t even contemplate it. Not yet. But Liam would be there. And he had every right to be. He was practically family.
Since Liam had become his partner, Lydia had sort of adopted the younger man, making him an honorary member of their tight-knit group. He’d come over for Sunday lunch every week, and once Diana had left for university, Liam had spent more time at their home than he did his own apartment. Lydia always had a soft spot for the lonely, damaged ones. And the moment she’d spotted Liam, she’d known right away that he’d had a rough childhood. She’d seen right through his brash attitude, and Liam had been unable to keep his defenses up. No one could ever resist his Lydia. All she’d ever done was help people and make the world a more beautiful place.
Something wet hit the back of his hand, and he looked down in surprise. Raising a trembling hand to his face, he realized he was crying. No, damn it, no! Lydia couldn’t be dead. Someone had made a mistake. They must have. Maybe it was someone else who just looked like Lydia. That was it. That had to be it.
A few minutes – and a lot of broken traffic laws – later, they pulled up in front of Mercy General Hospital. Lydia had worked there for almost fifteen years. She’d started a few years after giving birth to Diana, and with her quick intelligence and warm bedside manner, she had quickly risen up the ranks to become head nurse. Everyone loved her. And now, she was gone? No! No, it wasn’t his Lydia. It couldn’t be.
He got out of the vehicle, his movements slow. He couldn’t run. He wouldn’t run. It would bring the truth that much closer, that much faster. No, it wasn’t his Lydia. It would be some other poor nurse, and he would have to do his job. He would have to investigate what had happened to her. He squared his shoulders and walked into the hospital with Liam on his heels. He didn’t stop to ask for directions. He didn’t need them. As he rounded yet another corner in the maze of corridors that made up Mercy General, he stopped dead. Two uniformed police officers were holding back the curious. He walked toward them, determined. When they saw him, they froze.
“We can’t let you in, sir,” one of the men said respectfully.
He grit his teeth. “I need to work the crime scene.”
They shook their heads. “I’m sorry, sir. We have strict orders not to let you in.”
Just as he was about to snap at the two men, Liam intervened. “He needs to see her,” he said, his tone low. The officers looked at Liam and nodded after a moment’s hesitation. Raising the yellow tape, they let him through.
John looked at the doorway as if it was a portal into hell. And, in a way, it was. The moment he walked through it, he’d be living his own personal nightmare. He clenched his fists by his sides. He took a deep breath and took those final fatal steps that would bring him into the room.
He paused, looking around. It was a small room. The size of a closet. Two bunk beds took up most of the space, while a small table with two chairs and a refrigerator took up the rest of it. He took in everything. His eyes landed on the person lying on the bottom bunk furthest from the door.
He smiled gently. She looked so beautiful and serene, almost as if she were asleep. He even convinced himself of it for a few moments. She lay on her back, one arm curled under her head, while the other was by her side. Then he saw the hypodermic needle sticking out of her arm. He clenched his teeth.
“Come on,” Liam said. “Let’s get out of here. Let the crime scene unit do their job.”
John shook his head. “No, I need to wake her up.” He made toward her, but Liam grabbed him.
“No! You know you can’t touch her!”
Liam practically had to drag him out of the room. “Lydia!” he kept yelling. Liam dragged him down the corridor and out of sight of the other police officers, who were throwing him pitying looks. Pushing him against the wall, Liam got up in his face.
“John, Lydia is dead! Do you get it? She is dead. She’s not asleep. She’s not waking up. She’s dead.” By this point, Liam’s tears were running down his face unchecked.
“No, no, no,” John muttered, shaking his
head in denial.
“Get it together! For Diana! You have an amazing daughter who has no idea her mother is dead. You need to pull yourself together for her, John.”
John stared at Liam, his eyes glassy. He brought a fist up to his chest, rubbing the spot just above his heart, as if it would ease the pain. “My Lydia’s dead?”
“I’m so goddamned sorry, John, but yes, she is.”
John felt his knees give way. He crumpled to the floor and began to rock back and forth. “Lydia,” he whispered through the tears.
CHAPTER THREE
University of British Columbia, Vancouver Campus
OH MY GOD, did you see his face?” Teddy Van Alst laughed as he threw himself down on Diana’s bed.
She rolled her eyes at his infantile practical joke, but she couldn’t help a small chuckle. “Teddy, you are impossible. Why won’t you leave Richard alone?” she asked as she joined him on the bed.
“Because he’s a jerk,” her best friend replied.
She and Teddy had met in Computer Science class, and though he was two years older than her, they’d become fast friends. They were geeks, the outcasts, the ones who were different. They’d bonded precisely over their different-ness. They’d pushed each other to be better, so they’d managed to get their degrees in two years, rather than the usual three. The fact that Diana had also gotten her biochemistry degree at the same time had resulted in Teddy declaring that she was a scary-smart dudette who would one day take over the world. She’d promised he could be her vice-whatever when she did.
He’d continued down the computer science path, while she’d gone to medical school. Even so, they were still best friends and saw each other every day. They would have shared the same room, if they could, but the university frowned on such things, even if Teddy wasn’t interested in girls and never would be.
As it was, they met up for coffee every morning, spent their evenings studying together, and essentially spent every free moment in each other’s company.
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