Page 87 of Married With Malice

“What is it?” I say into the phone, not bothering to scrape the annoyance from my tone as I rapidly walk out of the dining room.

Creed’s voice follows me into the corridor and I duck into an empty conference room, shutting the door at my back.

“Sorry to bother you,” Monte says and then gives me a quick, heavily coded rundown of the last few hours.

“Clean it up as best you can,” I say, aware that I ought to feel sick over the fact that we’re talking about dead men but unable to summon any emotion about this. “If it’s too messy, call Franco. I’ve already given him a heads up to offer any help you need. And Monte, will you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’m trying to give my wife my full attention. Try to make do with what you’ve got and we’ll deal with any complaints when I’m back.”

“Got it. Try not to get lost in a snow drift, okay?”

“Doing my best.” I disconnect the call and just sit alone in the dark for a moment.

A flood of enthusiastic applause breaks out. Creed must have wrapped up his song. Anni probably thinks I’m a dick for running out on her. The other men in that room wouldn’t have left their wives alone to go chat about murder in a fucking conference room.

Raking a hand through my hair, too many nights of shitty sleep are starting to catch up with me.

Tonight will be different.

With new determination, I switch my phone off and shove away from the table. If anyone has any earth shattering business they’ll need to figure it out themselves. I’m off the clock.

And I should do something nice for Anni, something unexpected. When we were in Key West, I bribed the kitchen to make her favorite dessert. She was thrilled. I don’t remember seeing that expression on her face since that night.

Rather than return directly to the dining room, I take a circuitous route in search of the kitchen and end up bumping into our waiter as he’s rolling silverware into napkins. He listens when I explain what I want and I tell him there will be a big tip for the dessert chef. He promises he’ll take care of it immediately.

Anni isn’t at the table. Her half eaten steak is still here. She must have gone to the restroom.

The party table is still going strong. Chase creeps up behind Creed’s chair and grabs his brother in a playful headlock. He notices that I’m watching and grins. “My brother’s got some set of pipes, huh?”

Creed shakes him off but snorts good-naturedly. “Get back to your own seat, junior.”

I’m expecting Anni to return any minute. No matter how hard I stare in the direction of the restrooms, she hasn’t appeared. I check my watch and see that ten minutes have clicked by.

Our smiling waiter proudly delivers the panna cotta and it’s been artfully adorned with fresh fruit, just like I requested. I motion that he ought to set it down next to Anni’s plate. Then I continue to watch for my wife to appear.

Another five minutes go by.

Now I’m starting to wonder.

She didn’t each much of her dinner. Maybe she’s feeling sick or jetlagged.

After another five minutes have passed, I’m officially worried.

The restrooms are located in a discreet corner alcove. The blonde woman who was dancing with Chase comes tumbling out of the ladies’ room.

“Excuse me,” I say. “My wife has been in there a while and I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up. “There’s no one else in there but I saw your wife leave about twenty minutes ago.”

“Leave? As in she left the restaurant?”

The woman gives me a skeptical look. “I assume so. She was heading for the exit.”

“Thanks.”

Fuck. I shouldn’t have turned my phone off. The woman moves on while I revive my phone, expecting to see a message from Anni. There’s none so I tap out a quick ‘Where are you?’ text and head back to the table.

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