Page 93 of Captivating Anika

She’s right. Of course she’s right. Kim was important to all of us, and things have been crazy around here. Monique’s had my back, but I haven’t exactly had hers.

“No need to apologize. You’re right, I’ve been up in my own head and haven’t exactly been considerate of you guys. Some friend I am, huh?”

She reaches across the desk and gives my hand a squeeze.

Neither of us are big on sappy displays, so I quickly retrieve my hand and continue, “As for Chris Cooper, you can stop worrying about him.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in her hairline.

“What are you saying?”

“He was found dead.”

Her jaw hits the floor. “You’re shitting me. He killed himself?”

“I don’t think so. Not sure of the details, I just know he’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

She leans back in my desk chair.

“Well, I’ll be damned. That’s messed up.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding. Hey,” I change gears. “What’s wrong with Molly? Landon said she had an appointment with her doctor?”

Monique nods. “Yeah, she seems depressed. I think she’s struggling a bit emotionally. She said something about her boyfriend breaking up with her.”

That poor thing.

“Ah, man, on top of everything else? That’s so sad. I’ll try and get in touch with her. See if she wants to meet up for drinks and a talk. I think Hog will be back on shift starting tomorrow, so maybe tomorrow night.”

“Why don’t I talk to Molly when she gets back? I’ll see if she wants to get together at my place? We can sit by the river with a pitcher of margaritas and watch the sun go down.”

Monique lives in a trailer home right by Oxbow Park. Her little backyard borders on the park and the river. I haven’t been there in probably close to two years.

“That sounds good to me.” I check my phone for the time. “Look, I’ve gotta run, but shoot me a message when you hear from her, okay?”

I was lucky to find a parking spot that fit the Suburban in front of the salon, but sadly I’m not that lucky near the courthouse. It takes me three trips up and down the street to find a spot outside the Legion, which is about two blocks down.

Since I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be late for the judge, I end up running the whole way. Out of breath and sweaty, I hang on to the railing running alongside the steps to the main door of the courthouse, when I hear my name called.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Mel pants, jogging up to me. “Parking is crazy.”

“Oh, I know. I literally got here two seconds ago myself.”

“Well, let’s head in. Judge Browning was able to fit us in last-minute, so we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Less than an hour later we’re standing back outside the courthouse, but I’m holding a copy of a judge’s order to show the funeral home.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I tell Mel, who shrugs it off.

“You’re family,” she says. “Which reminds me.” She pulls an envelope from the ratty leather tote bag she hauls around everywhere. “They did a collection at the clubhouse. To help with the funeral,” she adds, when I stand there with my mouth open.

Inside the envelope is a stack of bills.

“How…you didn’t have to…this is too much.”

Mel chuckles. “You try telling those do-good knuckleheads. And I can call them that, because I’m married to one and my daughter’s married to another. I told you—family.” She points at the envelope. “There’s probably enough there for a gravestone as well.”

Mel isn’t a big hugger, but I don’t let that stop me and wrap her into a tight one.

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