Page 14 of Sinister Secrets

CHAPTER 9

I wake as the first rays of light seep in around the edges of the curtains, filling the room with a soft morning glow. Stretching, I wince against a crick in my neck, run my tongue around a mouth that seems impossibly dry. What happened last night?

I remember Jake’s excitement, the glass of champagne, followed by a second. Making our way to the bedroom to continue our celebration. Lying down and then… I groan as I realize I must have fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

“Good morning,” Jake says from behind me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

Rolling over to face him, I say, “I passed out.”

“You did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“But we had… plans.”

Brushing my hair back from my face, he gives me a gentle kiss. “And we still do. There was just a slight delay.”

I can tell by the way he’s looking at me, trailing his fingertips lightly down my neck and across my arm, that he’s ready to unpress the pause button.

“Hold that thought,” I say, swinging my legs over the bed and hurrying to the bathroom. When I return a minute later with an empty bladder and the taste of kitty litter removed from my mouth, Jake’s pulling on a pair of jeans.

“What are you doing?”

Crossing to him, I run my hands up his chest, closing the last of the distance between us as I wrap my arms around his neck, stand on my toes, and give him a kiss that could melt plastic. He groans.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

A bubble of angst pops inside me, spreading like wildfire. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not. But your phone started blowing up while you were in the bathroom.”

I look over my shoulder at the device on my nightstand as it buzzes with an incoming text. “I’ll put it on silent.”

Jake grins but shakes his head. “Someone seems pretty intent on getting ahold of you. Don’t you think you should answer?”

“Not at—” I check the time as I pick up the phone to put it in Do Not Disturb mode and curse.

“What’s the matter?”

“The medical examiner scheduled the autopsy for first thing, which means he’ll be starting in a half hour.”

“How long will it take you to get there?”

I give him a reluctant look. “Thirty minutes. But—”

He cuts me off with a kiss. “I’ll get everyone fed and watered. We can continue this tonight.”

“Tonight,” I agree, already heading into the hall to open a box of clothes, hoping to find something without too many wrinkles to wear.

Thirty-five minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of the Palm County Medical Examiner’s Office and hurry inside. State my name and the reason I’m there to the receptionist, who buzzes me through to the back.

“They’ve been expecting you. They’re just getting started,” she says. “It’s the door at the end of the hall.”

My anxiety builds as I walk down the cement block corridor, the sound of my steps echoing off the walls. Goosebumps pepper my skin, the chill of the building working its way to my core. The anticipation of what’s to come causes a knot of nerves to form inside my stomach, twisting and writhing like a mating ball of snakes.