by Ivy Thorne
Dane’s address was within walking distance of the police station. It was across town from Marla’s condo. Still, it was only a fifteen-minute drive away. He lived in a newly developed area full of identical townhouses. The houses all were connected, and from a distance looked as though they were one big mansion. But, as Marla got closer, it was clear they were divided into much smaller, narrower units.
Dane’s became recognizable by the car parked in its lot, which she knew to be his.
Marla took a deep breath before knocking on his door. Several worries took form in her head. Was she wearing enough perfume? Was she wearing too much perfume? What if Dane was allergic to perfume? Before Marla could knock, the door swung open.
“Hi,” Dane said. Noticing the surprised look on Marla’s face he followed his greeting with an apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was looking out the window and saw you arrive… not that I was spying or anything.” He chuckled uneasily.
Marla found his nervous demeanor endearing. The moment she stepped into his house she could smell something wonderful cooking.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked, as she walked around the open space of his living room.
“I’m attempting to make cauliflower steaks,” he responded, dashing into the kitchen. “Do you drink wine?”
He answered the question before Marla could. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a funeral director and you drink everything.”
“You’ve got it!” Marla said.
He presented her with a glass of white wine. She thanked him and sipped on it as she explored his apartment.
Dane appeared to be an organized person. Books were arranged neatly on a bookshelf next to a healthy green monstera plant. Any attempt Marla had made to take care of a plant had ended miserably. Interestingly enough, he didn’t have a television set, at least not in his living room.
“Dinner should be ready in another fifteen minutes,” Dane declared.
He then joined Marla in the living room, which led into the dining room and kitchen area. There was a glass of wine balanced in his hand. They stared at each other bashfully for a moment until a black and white cat appeared from underneath a couch.
“Aw! You have a kitty!” Marla cooed.
She set her glass of wine on a table and stooped down to pet the creature.
“That’s Sherlock,” Dane informed her. “I heard him scuttle under the couch the moment you entered. I didn’t think he’d be brave enough to show himself, but it seems he likes you.”
The cat purred and collapsed to the floor, happily exposing his tummy for Marla to scratch. Marla’s heart was ready to burst. Both Dane and his cat were unbearably cute.
“I think you have some competition,” Marla teased.
Dane laughed. “As I’m sure you’ve probably guessed, he’s named after the famous fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes.”
“No?” Marla said sarcastically.
“I know, it’s dorky,” Dane said. “I’ve read every Sherlock Holmes story. They were my inspiration for becoming a detective.”
The sound of a timer buzzing emanated from the kitchen.
“Dinner is ready,” Dane announced. He gestured for Marla to follow him into the kitchen.
Marla was impressed with how the food looked and smelled. Dane served wild rice with the lightly toasted cauliflower steak propped on top, coated with a balsamic glaze and accompanied by a baked sweet potato.
“I hope it tastes okay,” Dane said.
He courteously pulled out a chair at the table for Marla to take a seat.
“If it tastes as good as it smells, then I’m sure it will be magnificent,” she said.
Sure enough, it was. Marla expressed her delight and asked Dane where he’d learned to cook. Blushing, he admitted that he rarely prepared his meals and had meticulously followed the directions of a recipe he’d found online.
“I even went as far as to purchase the exact wine that was recommended,” he stated.
Marla informed him that she too was not the savviest of chefs. “It’s less about my ability to cook and more about the fact that I never have the motivation to prepare food,” she said.
Dane nodded. “I’m the same way.”
Marla appreciated the fact that Dane was so open and honest, even at the expense of seeming less impressive. Along with his honesty, Marla was attracted to Dane’s humble attitude.
It was then that the conversation hit a lull. Marla could tell the silence was making Dane feel uncomfortable. To break the silence he launched into an extended recitation regarding the author of the Sherlock Holmes series, Arthur Conan Doyle.
“Did you know that Arthur Conan Doyle hated writing the Sherlock stories?” he said. “He hated them so much he refused to write them unless he was offered a massive sum of money, which he figured he’d never get. But then he did.”
He hesitantly made eye contact with Marla. The look on his face was one of embarrassment. He looked like a puppy dog who just had been disciplined.
Aw, he thinks he’s boring me.
It was then that Marla declared as soon as time machines were invented she’d go back in time and thank Arthur Conan Doyle for inspiring Dane to become a detective.
As they worked away at their dinner, slowly drinking their way through the bottle of wine, Dane opened up about the previous day’s interrogation. He confirmed everything that Marla had speculated about Ashley. Reggie had indeed been her boyfriend −- an abusive one at that. Ashley had told them that Reggie had been seriously abusive and had manipulated her into staying with him.
“Oh, God, I was afraid that was the case,” Marla said. “I’d always wondered if she’d had a boyfriend during the time I was her roommate.”
“His horrible treatment of her certainly explains why she’d decided on such a violent method to kill him,” Dane remarked. “That, and she’d viewed one of the articles you’d been reading about Slasher Saul.”
Marla swore. Had she not left her laptop open to that article, would Ashley have decided against murdering Reggie?
Dane could see the speculation in Marla’s eyes. “Don’t feel guilty,” he said. “There is no way you could have known she’d subconsciously use Slasher Saul’s murder method as inspiration.” He was right, of course. “It was thanks to you that Reggie’s murderer was found,” Dane added. “You’re like a female Sherlock Holmes.”
His face blushed bright red. Marla felt her cheeks go pink. Comparing someone to Sherlock Holmes was the ultimate compliment, coming from Dane. Marla beamed as she studied his handsome features. She giggled when she noticed him shyly averting his gaze.
“Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?” he asked.
He unfastened the button at the collar of his shirt, exposing his glorious collar bones.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the wine,” Marla replied.
Plus, your sex appeal, she thought.
Dane left temporarily to open a window. He also went to his fridge, bringing back a jug of water and two glasses.
As he poured Marla a glass of water he chuckled to himself.
“What’s so funny?” she probed.
Dane offered her the drink. “I was just thinking about something funny I did when I was pretending to be an attendee of Reggie’s funeral to question Ashley,” he answered.
“What did you do?”
Now Dane was snorting with laughter. He likely was giddy from the wine. Seeing him that way made Marla laugh.
Barely able to contain his amusement, Dane went on to explain that when Ashley had asked for his name, he’d frozen up temporarily.
“I, uh, told her my name was Rain,” he said. He then began to laugh uncontrollably, pausing only to explain himself. “I never told her my first name when I’d talked to her over the phone. So, there was no need to hide my name. It was just so ridiculous! What kind of person is named Rain?” Dane apologized amid his fit. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not that funny. I think I’ve had too much wine.”
>
What Marla found entertaining was how giggly Dane was. After gaining control of his laughter, he went on to further describe the interrogation.
“When asked why she hadn’t reported Reggie’s abuse to someone who could help her, such as her parents, Ashley told us she hadn’t because she feared their judgment.”
“Aw, that’s rough,” Marla said.
She understood the decision to hide information from parents. Her parents had been supportive but also had had high expectations of Marla. Like any kid, she’d feared disappointing them. Marla had hidden more than one high school boyfriend from her parents. Of course, none of them had been abusive.
Dane sighed. “It is. Her parents raised her to be Christian. She feared they’d disown her if they’d known about her relationship with Reggie, as well as the things that she’d done with him. The two of them would go to bars. I guess alcohol consumption is something her parents are strictly against. That, as well as intimate relations before marriage.”
“I doubt they’ll be thrilled to hear she murdered a man,” Marla said.
“Ashley believed killing Reggie was her only option,” Dane explained. “She let us hear some threatening voice messages Reggie had left on her phone. He made some pretty substantial threats. Her logic in killing him was self-preservation, in a way. Of course, she also made it clear she had some pent-up rage against him.”
The mood in Dane’s apartment took a dark turn. As relieved as Marla was that she’d been proven innocent, she hated that Ashley was the guilty one. It pained Marla that she’d lived with Ashley for some time and never had noticed her suffering. Perhaps she could have helped Ashley.
Dane sensed the change in the atmosphere. He stood up from his chair and declared that he had a gift for Marla.
“You know my birthday isn’t until the fall,” Marla informed him.
“Consider this more of a compensation present,” he said.
He left to fetch the mysterious gift, returning with a mid-sized box wrapped in silver paper. Marla opened it to find it was a new set of kitchen knives. She gasped in delight. Now she finally would be able to prepare her food properly.
“The forensic team isn’t very good at returning items perceived as evidence,” Dane explained. “Ashley admitted to burying the knife she’d used to kill Reggie in a nearby field filled with hydro towers. We checked, and sure enough, it was there.”
Marla thanked him for the gesture.
“What are your parents like?” she asked Dane. She needed to divert the topic of conversation away from the interrogation for a moment. Plus, she didn’t know much about Dane’s background. Did he have siblings or was he an only child?
Dane shrugged in response to Marla’s question. “They’re alright. My father was a military man and my mom worked as a nurse. To be honest, they weren’t around much. I was essentially raised by my older brother, and he was always kind of an ass.”
“How so?”
“He was critical of everything I did. I kind of lived in his shadow. He’s a genius mathematician and teaches math at a highly acclaimed university. He’s also ten years older than me. I always felt like my parents wanted me to be more like him.”
Marla opened up about her life with her parents. She told Dane about how she was an only child and how her parents were strict and had high expectations of her. She completely understood how it felt to be constantly seeking approval from her parents.
“After a while, I just gave up,” she said. “I stopped trying to make them proud and just did my own thing. Of course, that didn’t exactly work out either.”
Dane added that on top of his brother being smarter than him, he was also extremely suave and handsome.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of socially awkward,” Dane said.
“Me too!” Marla exclaimed.
The two were connecting better than Marla could have imagined. She helped Dane clear the dishes and then was treated to dessert.
“I hope you like Popsicles,” he said. “I, uh, sort of neglected to make anything.”
Dane proceeded to tell Marla about a time when he accidentally had burned muffins to a crisp, causing his previous apartment to be completely clouded in smoke.
Being the simple gal that she was, Marla had no qualms with eating Popsicles.
“When it comes to food, you need not worry about disappointing me,” Marla informed him. “I have basic tastes. So long as the food is vegetarian, I’ll eat it. I once lived off of boxed mac and cheese and salsa for a week.”
It was then that Dane led Marla up a flight of stairs to the top floor of his house, where there was an exit that led to a rooftop patio. The sky was pitch black, stars glinting off in the distance. Marla had been enjoying herself so much she hadn’t even noticed the time pass.
As they stood together admiring the view and finishing off their Popsicles, Marla felt Dane’s hand slip into her own.
It’s happening! she thought, excitedly.
“You know,” Dane said softly, “you were right about the eyelids being closed. After slitting Reggie’s throat, Ashley returned to the house to shut his eyes. I guess there was a part of her that still loved him, even after all that. She’d explained that she wanted him to at least appear at peace, even though had he died a violent death.”
“Wow.” As messed up as it was, Marla felt sympathy for Ashley. “What’s going to happen to her?” she asked.
“It was evident during the interrogation that Ashley is an incredibly disturbed young woman,” Dane said. “She’ll be receiving a psychiatric evaluation from a professional. If it can be proven that she was mentally unwell during the moment she murdered Reggie, she may receive a lighter sentence. But she is going to prison for a long time.”
“What a sad story,” Marla remarked.
“It is,” Dane agreed. “It just goes to show how important it is for people to reach out for help. It’s so common for people to hide their feelings out of fear. I think society needs to be better at encouraging people to express their emotions rather than hide them.”
Marla clutched Dane’s hand harder. She turned her body so she was directly in front of him.
“On that note,” she whispered, “I have something I want to tell you.”
She leaned in closer to Dane until she could feel his breath on her face.
“What’s that?” Dane said. He shifted his hands to Marla’s waist.
“I love you,” she said.
The two of them kissed in the moonlight. It was the beginning of a night she would remember for the rest of her life, and not just because she had a photographic memory.
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
“God, that photo is priceless!” Jackie said. “I can’t believe you managed to get this picture.”
Jackie was referring to the gawking face of Speckleman that Marla had captured.
“It’s a true work of art,” Marla said. “I think I’ll make it the background image for my phone’s home screen.”
It was lunchtime at the funeral home and the two were reminiscing about Speckleman’s recent job termination over the photograph Marla had taken of him following Ashley’s arrest.