A smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “Seems to be the norm with the gender, honestly. Based on the ones I’ve dated, at least.”
“Hey,” Officer Jenson protested. “Not all of us.”
“You want to come hang out with me and my friends? I’m Jennifer—Jennifer Gray—by the way. I’ve seen you around, but I don’t work homicides, so we haven’t really met.”
I started to lift my hand but noticed she didn’t extend hers, so I quickly tucked it under the table. “Nice to meet you officially, Jennifer. What friends?”
I followed where the detective hooked her thumb over her shoulder. A group of four women sat around a small high-top table, three of them talking while one stared our direction with an unreadable expression on her face. A chill ran down my spine as I held the woman’s gaze.
“Thank you for the invite, but I’m just going to drink this beer, pay the tab, and go home. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be worse, no doubt.”
I smiled at the server as she set my beer down.
“Why do you say that?” Jennifer nodded to Officer Jenson as he covertly removed himself from the conversation, slipping into the growing crowd of people.
“Just lots going on,” I said evasively and took a sip of the cold liquid. Sure, she was a detective, but I wasn’t about to tell her about the FBI coming in since she wasn’t directly involved.
“I heard about the uptick in homicides.” I studied her features, waiting to hear where she was going with that statement. She laughed at whatever she saw on my face. “The gossip mill is alive and well at the precinct. That’s how I know, but thankfully we have you to help get all those solved.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I better get back before the girls order me a shot for ditching them so long on our night off. Bye, Dr. Evans.”
“It’s Rain, please.”
“Cool. See ya, Rain.”
Turning back to the table, I studied the full pint glass.That wasn’t so bad. Wait, did I just make a new friend?Jennifer didn’t shy away from me, even though she was well aware of what I did for a living. I said nothing random or embarrassing, which was because she made me comfortable—or the two beers had taken the edge off, making me somewhat normal.
Female friends in the past were not only hard to come by but even harder to keep. At this point in my life, I’d stopped trying, knowing it would end with me heartbroken that another person I considered a close friend went radio silent, or I found out they just wanted to use me for something. Usually, it was to get close to one of the officers or detectives I worked alongside.
After finishing the beer and paying the full tab—that Excel-loving asshole’s shitty drink included—I weaved through the happy throng of people, easily slipping out the front door without being noticed. Once outside, I relaxed, embracing the chilled breeze that had goose bumps popping along my bare arms. Hands wrapped around the opposite biceps, I started down the sidewalk, eager to get home and soak in a steaming-hot bath like any other night.
By the end of my normal ten-hour day, my lower back hurt from standing all day, my brain was mush, and, since I normally worked through lunch, I was starving.
Like now.
My stomach growled at that moment, so loud that anyone close would think I had a tiny bear tucked in my purse. The thin leather strap of my handbag shifted off my shoulder from the jostling of my quick pace. Normally at nine o’clock I was tucked in bed, reading or watching TV.
And that was completely fine by me.
Thankfully, being an ME meant I made enough to not need a roommate, even with the crazy-high prices in Southern California. I enjoyed the quiet solitude living by myself offered. Even if sometimes the quiet was too much and the solitude was more ominous than relaxing. A roommate wouldn’t fix that, though, only someone I was excited to see and hang out with at the end of a long day, not just a warm body.
Turning the corner of a two-story brick building without looking, I clipped the edge with my shoulder.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” I looked up at the building, then smacked my forehead. “Sorry, I apologized like you’re a person.” My feet slowed to a stop. “But you’re not, so I’m going to keep walking.”
Why the hell am I so strange?No wonder I didn’t have friends. I was talking to buildings, for fuck’s sake.
The short walk home was fine until I turned the corner, my townhome within sight. My steps slowed as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, an unsettling feeling sitting heavy in my gut. The straps of my bag dug into my palm as I held it close to my side. A frantic look over my shoulder for the cause of my spike in anxiety came up empty. Turning back around, I picked up the pace, the soles of my Golden Goose tennis shoes slapping the damp sidewalk with every step.
At the stoop to my place, I leaped up the steps, the keys to unlock the front door already in hand. The keys to the morgue and office clinked together, my hands shaking as I shoved the thin metal into the lock and twisted hard.
The solid dark wood front door swung open, me stumbling in after it to get inside as quickly as possible. It slammed shut behind me, the click of the deadbolt echoing in the pristine entryway and up the stairs. Ass pressed against the wall, hands on my knees, I sucked down gulps of air, my eyes trained on the door handle, fully expecting to see it wiggle as someone outside tried to follow me inside.
Gaze glued to the lever, I blindly felt around the umbrella holder in the corner, fingers searching for the only weapon on this level. The smooth wood of the bat dragged against the rough edge of the stainless-steel container as I pulled it free.
I wrapped one palm followed by the other around the base of the bat, fingers flexing and tightening to adjust my hold. Needing to be ready to attack, I raised it high over my right shoulder, prepared to smash the skull of anyone who dared enter my sanctuary.
A slight scrape, a barely-there sound, had my heart sinking into my stomach. I swallowed hard, hoping that would calm my ragged breaths, which were so loud it was impossible to hear anything else.
Sixty seconds passed with me at the ready, standing as still as a statue, listening and waiting.