Round Thirty-Two
BILLY
Me:
Hey. You didn’t reply to my texts yesterday. Just checking in that everything’s okay.
Jeremy was really hoping you’d stop by.
Good one, dickhead. Lead with manipulation.
Maybe we’ll see you today. Hopefully.
“Hey.” Ramone drops onto his chair inside the station, the frame squeaking under his weight, and the heavy thud of his boots hitting his desk echoes from one end of the building to the other.
He smiles around a candy strip, flashing white teeth and lips coated in sugar powder.
“You look surlier than usual. Maggie break up with you?”
I lock my phone and set it carefully on my desk, lest I smash the fucking thing… against his face. Slowly, I bring my eyes up and simply glare. Heated, silent, and so fucking potent, his smile drops away.
“Oh…” He drags the candy from his mouth and gulps. “Maggie broke up with you.”
“Maggie can’t have broken up with me,” I snarl. “Because Maggie has never actually agreed to be with me. Technically.” I settle back in my chair and tilt my head until I’m looking at the water-stained ceiling. “She’s not replying to my texts. Not calling me back.”
“Maybe she’s really busy. You ever notice how she’s always working? Always heading over to Barlespy.”
“Not too busy to tape a sign to her bedroom window last night.” I fold my arms and nibble on the inside of my lips. “She can find the time to communicate with my eight-year-old via pen and paper, but she can’t even send a thumbs up to one of my texts?”
“Well…” He glances left, along a row of desks littered with too much paperwork and not enough manpower to get through the backlog.
Then he peeks right, toward the boardroom we sometimes use, and right beside the boardroom door, a water cooler that hasn’t been refilled in…
years. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a non-committal hmm, then he brings his eyes back to mine. “What did you do to piss her off?”
“What did I do?” My temper spikes, so fucking easily. So near the edge. “I didn’t do shit!”
“The evidence may suggest otherwise.” He rises from his chair and strides toward the boardroom. “Come on.”
“Dude,” I groan, turning in my seat and watching his back. “What are you doing?”
“Solving a mystery. Duh.” He moves through the doorway and leaves me out here all alone.
I’m so fucking tired. So weary. So ready to make a mess of my partner’s face, I scrub my hands over my face and exhale a noisy huff.
But then I stand and follow him, across the threshold and into the room where MAGGIE and BILLY are already written on the smart board.
“I don’t have the energy for this bullshit today, Ram—”
“This is literally how our brains work best, so close the door, sit the fuck down, and stop being a bitch.” He draws stick figures under each name, one with a down-turned smile, and the other, with a skirt.
“You suck at communication, bro, so even when I ask what’s happening, you give me nothing of substance.
You cry I love her so much, and why won’t she love me back?
But then you go and say stupid shit. I saw the two of you wander into my bathroom on the weekend, and I saw the condom in my trash can after. ”
“For fuck’s sa—”
“Sure, the condom could’ve belonged to anyone, I agree.
But the timing was interesting, and watching you and Maggie in the hot tub after kinda suggests maybe things were heating up for you guys.
Which is great, by the way.” He turns from the board and meets my eyes.
“So, even though you technically haven’t confirmed anything, I’m running with the theory you finally landed the girl you’ve been dreaming about since second grade.
” He flashes a wide grin. “You’re welcome. ”
Shut the fuck up.
“Now we have a timeline.” He starts at one end of the board and draws a single long line to the other side.
Moving quickly, he adds details. “Barbecue at my place is here.” He adds a dash to the board.
“Today, right now, is here.” Another dash.
“And since the gossip vines travel faster than I can block my ears, I’m just gonna add,” another dash, “here. Yesterday. Because the group chat is abuzz about Jeremy’s rendition of Miss Maggie’s purple panties sleepover, except this time, Maggie slept in your bed with you.
No couch surfing for you, son. You came to work yesterday, happy as a fuckin’ clam, which implies things went well.
You’re at work today,” he draws a final dash on the board, “not so happy. That leads me to believe something went down last night.” Satisfied, he turns and folds his arms. “What did you do?”
“To her? Nothing! I texted yesterday after she left my place. Told her to drive safely, invited her over for dinner, told her Jeremy wanted to cook mini pizzas and watch a movie.”
“So…” He closes one eye, like it helps him think. “Did she reply to those?”
“No.” I yank out a chair and flop onto the fake, cracked leather. “She didn’t reply.”
“But we know she made it home safe, since she’d left a note for Jeremy in her window last night?”
“Yes.” I bring my foot up and rest it on the opposite knee. “She made it home safe. I saw her car in the driveway last night. I also saw she had a guest over. A guy.”
Surprised, his brows shoot high on his forehead. “The kind of guy a single woman might invite over for mini pizzas and an eventual sleepover?”
“No! Fuck.” I hate how deeply a line digs between my brows when I scowl.
How painfully a headache thuds at the back of my skull.
I hate how much her silence hurts me, and how, instead of talking about my pain in a healthy way, I defer to anger.
To rage. To defensiveness. “The dude turned up around seven. He went inside, stayed for an hour, and then left again. I was on my porch, and when I tried to talk to Maggie, she went back inside.”
“You fought?”
“No! We didn’t speak at all. I called out to her.” I waved like a fucking moron. “It’s like she didn’t hear me, because she turned around and went inside.”
“And you didn’t follow her? Didn’t knock on her door? That seems so…” He considers for a beat, then grins. “Anti-Billy.”
“No,” I repeat for the third time in a row. “I didn’t knock, because if she wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t wanna turn up at her place uninvited and be the reason we argued.”
His eyes narrow in thought. “Why wouldn’t she be feeling well?”
“Because of the pill she took. Because of the—” I gesture stupidly toward the board. “The Plan B.”
“She…” His eyes shoot wide. “Oh! Okay. You guys did something that required a Plan B. Noted.”
Like a fucking asshole, he reaches over his head and shakily draws a circle beside Maggie’s face.
It’s a pill, I suppose.
“She was worried and wanted to make sure nothing came of your night together?”
“I was worried,” I bite through gritted teeth. “So I told her to swing by the drugstore and pick one up. I texted again an hour or so after she left my place to make sure she got it.”
“And that’s when you invited her over for pizza and a movie?”
“Yes. But she didn’t reply. So I checked in again a few hours later—”
“To see how she was doing?” he questions. “Or to ask about the pill?”
“Both! I wanted to know that everything was okay. Then I texted again around six last night. Still no reply.”
“What did you text her at six? Specifically,” he adds, rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and finger.
“I asked how work was. Re-invited her to dinner. Asked if she was feeling unwell because of the pill.”
“Oh, Billy.” He drops his head forward, shaking it side to side. “You are a seriously stupid motherfucker.”
“What?” I shove up from my chair and pace the length of the table.
“Literally checking in, Ramone! Trying to see if she was okay. We’ve got douchebags out here hooking up with chicks and ignoring them after, but I’m begging her to talk to me, to tell me how she’s feeling.
I’m inviting her to dinner to spend time with my son. What the fuck did I do wrong?”
“Bet you offered to pay for that pill, too, huh?” He brings his eyes up to mine. “I’ll spot you the thirty bucks, Magnolia. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Well…” I stop in place and glare. “Yeah! Of course I did. It was my fault we needed the damn thing. Why the hell wouldn’t I—”
“Because she’s a literal fucking purveyor of love, dipshit! Her entire life is built around matching folks and helping them fall in love. If she wanted to deal with quick fucks and birth control, she’d operate a stable, wouldn’t she?”
“The hell are you talking about? She needed to take it, Ramone! Because of me. Short of grabbing the pill myself and shoving it down her throat so she wouldn’t have to do it, the next best thing I could do was remind her, offer to pay, and follow up to make sure she’s okay physically. Those pills screw with a woman’s—”
“You followed up about her physical well-being,” he grunts. “But what of her heart, dickhead? What of her mind?”
“What…” I shake my head. “What are you on about?”
“Purveyor. Of. Love! You turned what you two did into a cheap one-night stand.”
“I took care of business! I’m saving her from a fate far worse than a day or two of stomach aches and hormonal swings. She’s—”
“She’s not Aria.” He pushes off the board, swipes the entire screen clear, then he brings fiery eyes back to mine. “She’s not your wife, Billy. She’s not even pregnant, and even if she was, she probably wouldn’t die giving birth to it. Aria’s death was terrible, but it’s not like—”
“Probably wouldn’t die?” I snarl. “You’d bet her life on probably!?”
“I’m not betting her life on anything! She’s not pregnant. She’s on the pill, which means she probably didn’t need a Plan B either. And she’s smart, so I bet if given half a fucking chance, she could’ve handled that whole situation without you texting her about it thirty-seven fucking times.”
“She…” I press my palm to my aching chest. “How could you possibly know she’s on the pill?”
“Aw, I dunno, bro. Must be that detective brain of mine.” He takes a step closer.
“And then there’s the fact I saw her in the drugstore last month, picking up her script.
We said hey, I peeped her basket, life went on.
She’s in the business of love, asshole, and she’s already killing herself with worry because she’s head over heels obsessed with another woman’s kid.
That other woman is a town legend. She died a hero, bringing a beautiful baby boy into the world, marrying the guy Maggie wanted to marry back in the day.
You love her, Billy. You and Maggie are fucking destined, but she’s already dealing with her insecurities about stepping into a family that belongs to someone else, and when you finally convince her to stay the night, you reward her by making her feel like a liability. ”
“No, I—”
“Maybe I have no clue what I’m talking about.
” He folds his arms and scorches me with a fiery glare.
“But I tell you what. If I could move past all the ickiness and accept that my baby sister has relations with guys, and then I found out one of those guys marched her into a drugstore and demanded she take a pill she probably doesn’t even need… I’d be swinging already.”
“But—”
“Pretty sure we just closed the case, Detective. She’s not replying to your texts because you’re a prick.”