Page 164 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"Oh, absolutely not," Gerald shouted behind me.

"You already know what she's thinking."

"I do," Frank replied calmly.

"And I support it."

"This is evidence tampering!"

"This is photography."

"This is stalking!"

"This is appreciation."

I ignored them, mostly because Frank was correct. I sprinted inside the cottage, nearly sliding across the rag rug before grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter.

"Don't drop it," I muttered to myself.

"Don't drop it."

"If she falls and dies doing this," Gerald sighed.

"I'm haunting the coroner."

I hurried back to the screen door but stopped just inside the shadow of the hallway. Important distinction. I wasn't hiding. I was...remaining visually discreet. There's a difference. A very legal difference. I carefully lifted my phone.

Click.

Listen...before you judge me.

Actually, no.

Go ahead but answer honestly first.

If the brooding detective who kissed you like the world had thirty seconds left to exist was currently outside wrestling a German Shepherd in the morning sun playing in the grass without a shirt, his six-pack glistening in the morning dew... while looking like a Renaissance sculpture that accidentally wandered into rural Montana...

You'd grab your phone too.

Exactly.

Thank you for your honesty.

The court finds me innocent of all charges.

Click.

I zoomed in not on his face, mostly but to see the scars that fascinated me more. Every line looked like a sentence someone else had written across his body. Every healed wound whispered a story he'd never tell. Authors collect stories. Detectives collect evidence. Really... We're coworkers with different filing systems.

Click.

Two days ago, he'd kissed me like he couldn't breathe without me... then apologized then broke both our hearts in under sixty seconds. Technically...I had been rejected. Emotionally...That kiss had filed an appeal and I've never been particularly good at accepting closed cases.

Some women collect pressed flowers. Some collect vintage teacups.

Apparently...I collect impossible men.

And honestly?