Chapter Thirty-One
With Henrietta on her lead, Olivia patted her pocket for the key, pulled the door shut, and checked the lock was in place. It was late, and the neighborhood lights were winking dark as the families curled into their beds.
There were just too many thoughts racing through her mind, and she was unproductive. Walking was always a good thing. Something about seeing nature and getting her body moving shuffled her thoughts into a polite line—well, less unruly, at least.
When the macaroni and cheese buzzer had pulled her from the post-coital bliss of Nutsbe’s arms around her, she was loathe to leave that space of contentment and push herself back into a bleak world.
As she gathered her far-strewn clothes, Nutsbe hadn’t pressed her to stay. He simply cleaned up in the bathroom and came out wearing his uniform. He was in the kitchen packaging her dinner when she moved down the stairs from his bedroom.
He handed her the bag.
“Thank you. To be clear, by going home, I’m not pushing you away. I haven’t changed my mind about figuring this out—a way to make an us happen—as much as I’d like to step off the treadmill tonight, I can’t.”
“In my line of work, when we’re in motion, lives are on the line. You’ll understand where I’m coming from when I get pressed by my obligations.”
And he kissed her nose.
Kissed. Her. Nose.
It was so endearing. Yeah, sweet. His eyes …
These were the thoughts that had kept her from accomplishing anything.
Olivia pulled out her phone and called Jaylen. She opened with, “It’s been a day filled with wild swings of emotions. Please say something normal to me. What’s happening in your world?”
Tilly was happily singing a nonsense song, and water splashes were in the background.
“Take your pick,” Jaylen said. “First, I always thought those sweet gray doves that show up when I’m feeding Tilly her breakfast were morning doves. And I loved that.”
“I’ve seen your pictures. That’s right.”
“Yeah, no. In my head, that’s spelled m-o-r-n-i-n-g. As in, I’ve come to coo and welcome the day with my lovely soft gray dawn-colored feathers. But as it turns out, it’s mourning dove like grief and weeping, which has now sapped a lot of happiness from my day.”
“I’m sorry.” Henrietta was baptizing the fire hydrant. It was her favorite place to stop.
“Then Tilly woke up with diarrhea this morning, probably from licking that frog, I called the pediatrician. They said to keep an eye on her for rash or fever. If her butt isn’t any better, in a couple days, I need to go in and get her stool tested. Olivia, this child stank so bad just now with whatever it was that exploded into her diaper that I vomited on her, which makes me feel like a human but also a very bad mommy. She’s having her third bath for the day as we speak. And obviously, she’s not asleep like she should be.”
“Sorry again. You’re not a bad mommy.”
“Well, thank you,” Jaylen said. “So why do you sound like that?”
“Just thinking that I had a word gone wrong thing too, like your mourning dove discovery. Thaddeus Crushed is called Tad by everyday folks. Our neighbors, for example, call him Tad. His Iniquus brothers, like Bob who introduced us, call him ‘Nutsbe.’”
Jaylen affected an accent, “‘You can call me whatever you want, just don’t call me late for dinner.’ Who said that?”
“No idea. Serious here. They call him Nutsbe.”
“Right. I know. Nutsbe. That’s cute, I guess.” Jaylen paused. “I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, I didn’t put it together myself until I saw it written out. His last name is Crushed. Nuts-be Crushed.”
“Oh! Oh shit. Did it—did it happen when his legs were … What’s a polite phrase? Did it happen from the IED?”
“His junk is fine.” Henrietta trotted down the road, and Olivia was quick-stepping behind her.
“‘Cause you checked.”
“Of course I did,” Olivia scowled at her phone. “With a name like that, wouldn’t you be curious?”
“Did you stop at a fact-finding mission?” Jaylen’s voice brightened with interest. “Or did you jump his bones?”
“I did not necessarily jump his bones.”
“You had sex, though?”
“We did.” Olivia smiled.
“Are you thinking your usual serial killer thoughts?” Jaylen’s voice was muted as she moved away from the phone.
“About the sex? Absolutely not. No.”
There was a pause; a moment later, Jaylen’s voice was back in range. “So he didn’t get rough in bed, choke you, or insist you wear a matching bra and panty set?”
“I was very mismatched, so I felt safe,” Olivia smiled wider, remembering. “Nothing kinky. Nothing violent. Lots of consensual questions. ‘Is this okay?’ ‘Would you like it if I …?’ I’m not used to that.”
“What did you say no to?” Jaylen asked.
“Nothing. Everything he wanted to do was great by me. More than great. Best.”
“Best?” Jaylen’s voice was shocked.
“Best.” Olivia let Henrietta run to the end of her retractable lead.
“He’s ruined you for all other men.”
“Shut up,” Olivia laughed. “Stop teasing.” She felt content, and that was so foreign to her. “Yeah. It was surprising.”
“Mmm, that”s not always a great sentence to say after a roll in the sack.”
“He certainly has a lot of talent,” Olivia said. “No details.”
“But you were thinking serial killer around him?”
“You said that, not me. But also, with all my years in the prosecutor’s office—”
“Will make you terrified of any human interaction,” Jaylen finished her friend’s thought. “I get it. Aw, look, you have a Crush on Crushed,” Jaylen laughed. “You’re Crushed.”
“Maybe just a tad.” Tilly screeched in the background. “And that’s the signal to say good-bye.”
“Hey, do you realize that both Nuts and Olives grow on trees?”
“Helpful information. Goodbye,” Olivia sang, then added, “I hope Tilly feels better soon.”
Amidst the splashing of Jaylen pulling Tilly from the tub, Olivia heard, “Nutsbe and Olivia sitting in a tree—”
Olivia swiped the phone to end their connection. Then let out an amused huff. Yeah, something about Jaylen’s teasing felt happy.
Wasn’t that interesting?
Olivia had been a stranger to that emotion for quite a long time. The best she had been lately was “head above water.”
As she walked home, she wondered when she’d last thought about feeling good.
What reasonable person would even consider happiness with all the tumult tangling around her these last few days?
As she moved up her sidewalk, Henrietta ran excitedly for the porch, dragging Olivia.
Usually, Henrietta didn’t like to go home from a walk. Olivia scowled at the pile in front of her door and realized a dead rat was lying on her doormat.
Olivia pulled at Henrietta’s lead to get her away.
“All those years as a prosecutor can make you paranoid. It’s Occam’s razor,” she said aloud. “The simplest solution is probably right.” Two simple ideas: The rat died on her porch. The rat died elsewhere, but the stray cat she was feeding brought it to her and laid it in front of her door as a sign of appreciation. Mickey’s cats had done that. One morning, Olivia woke to Goldy trying to drop a mouse into her mouth. After that, Olivia insisted on the cats being removed from the bedroom and the door shut each night. Mickey had protested, but some things were not to be borne.
Mickey knew how much she hated the cat gifts—the dead birds, rodents, and snakes.
Was this Mickey?
That could also fit Occam’s razor—Mickey was a simple explanation that made sense in her mind.
Olivia took a long moment, searching over the neighborhood.
There it was again, that sense she’d had when Mickey had been on the phone, insisting he needed to talk to her. Was it safe in her house? Was her car safe to drive? She looked down at Henrietta. Her pup had none of the posturing that Beowolf displayed before the violence ensued.
It had been a nerve-racking, emotion-jumbling day with lows. “But, my god, there were some spectacular highs.”
Here she stood, feeling her nerves light up.
Were the last two days finally catching up to her? Was she overwrought?
With her hand on the doorknob, suddenly and inexplicably, home didn’t feel safe.