Chapter 8
Avery Hunter’s Reporter Notebook: Bedbugs are the underrated workers of the insect world.
When the detective drove us to the holding cell, I expected a police station.
Silly me. Warren said she was from Flamingo Cove, but this non-descript building felt a long way from Flamingo Cove.
The windows on the Cadillac were tinted darker than probably legal.
And at night, it was hard to determine what was outside.
Ward could be taking us to her murder mountain for all we knew.
Not that there were a lot - or any - mountains in Florida.
Our cell resembled a barn office, with rough timber walls on three sides and one whole wall of bars on the fourth.
It smelled like fresh lumber and sawdust, which was odd, but at least a private toilet was attached to the room.
It was the one room, with two twin cots, where Warren Atwell and I would have to spend the night before getting “married” in the morning.
I punched the flat pillow to get comfortable on the cot. When we got to the holding facility, our phones were mysteriously dead. Detective Ward promised to return with a charged phone when she brought us our dinner.
But when dinnertime came, the only person who visited was a giant who resembled The Rock. He handed us two boxes full of cold sandwiches, macaroni salad, and a few water bottles. There wasn’t a phone, and he refused to answer questions, no matter how many I threw his way.
As a reporter, you pepper people with questions; eventually, they crack and start talking. People generally want to be helpful. But not this guy. He was a sealed vault.
He wasn’t the only one not talking. Warren clammed up right after telling the police detective that we were engaged, and that just pissed me right the hell off. I punched the pillow again.
“If you keep doing that, you are likely to bust the seams and have no pillow tonight,” Warren’s voice floated through the darkness beside me.
Now, he decided to speak.
“Shut up,” I ground out.
“Why are you angry at me?”
I grunted and rolled over to face him on the other cot.
Somehow, in the dim lighting of the Exit sign from the hallway, the man looked even more gorgeous than he did at the hangar.
A dark curl escaped its prison of hair shellac and hung over his right eye.
It gave him a rakish charm that warmed me from the inside out.
That warmth ratcheted up as I recalled how he looked in his reading glasses.
Then, I remembered I was mad at him. “Why did you say that? That we were getting married?”
“I did not want you to be arrested.”
“And yet.” I waved around the cell. “Here we are. Great going, ByTheBook.”
“That is an unfortunate outcome.”
“Was this your way of asking me out on a second date?”
Warren coughed and patted himself on the chest. “Ah, no.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped back over, giving him my back. “Right. Because you didn’t want the first date in the first place.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face did all the talking.”
“Hmm. That is surprising.”
I heaved a sigh and rolled back to face him. “What does that mean?”
“I have a hard time showing emotions. So, if you saw something on my face, perhaps I am getting better at it,” Warren admitted.
My anger lessened at his words. I heard the people of Pleasure Point call him a robot. I’ve teased him myself about his stoicism. But I doubted a robot would lie to a cop to save me from jail. “What were you thinking? Couldn’t you get into trouble for lying to a police detective?”
“I was not under oath.”
I snorted. “Yeah. That doesn’t make it better, man.”
“I panicked.”
“You? Panicked? I find that hard to believe.”
His lips twitched to the side as he tried to hide his smile. “It happens from time to time. Do not alert the media.”
“I am the media.”
“You know what I meant.”
I rolled to my back and rested my hands on my stomach. “I do. Thank you for trying. But you only delayed the inevitable.”
“Perhaps.” Warren mimicked my pose on his cot and stared at the ceiling.
“That detective will take us to the courthouse tomorrow. I will investigate this so-called law. I am doubtful as to its validity. If it is still on the books, I will file an immediate motion to dismiss the charges, questioning its validity. If it is not, I will file charges against that detective for this unconventional arrest.”
“She seems familiar,” I mused. “Have you ever worked with her before?”
“Me? No. But I am more of a family and business lawyer than a criminal lawyer,” Warren said.
“What kind of family law?”
“I practice all kinds, but there have been many divorce cases since the pandemic.”
“Wow. That must be difficult.”
“Perhaps. But it also shows me the pitfalls of relationships. I do not know why anyone would get married without a pre-nuptial agreement.”
I thought about that for a few minutes. “Maybe those people were optimistic the marriage would work out and thought they wouldn’t need an exit plan.”
Warren shrugged. “Love makes people do stupid things.”
He had a point.
We sat in silence for a few moments. My body still buzzed from the adrenaline of jumping and getting arrested. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fall asleep.
“Tell me something, Warren.”
“Anything.”
“What if this plan of yours doesn’t work out? What if we have to get married?”
“That will not happen. There is a three-day waiting period to get married in Florida. It is waived if you go through pre-marital counseling, but as we have done neither of those things, we will not be forced to marry tomorrow,” Warren said.
“What if we are?”
“Will will not.”
“But what if?”
Warren sighed. “What if we are forced to marry?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we could get it annulled. It is an easy thing to process. We shall be fine,” Warren whispered.
“What if we had to lie?”
“I cannot lie. I am an officer of the court,” Warren answered. “That would be grounds for disbarment.”
“So, don’t lie, but maybe omit the truth?” I suggested.
“Do not lose sleep over this. We shall be fine.” Warren yawned. “Good night, Avery.”
“Good night, Warren. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
There was a moment of silence before Warren whispered. “You think there are bedbugs in here?”
I smiled to myself and rolled to face the wall. Serves him right for telling people we were getting married.
I slept like a damn baby.