A Body to die for

while.”
    “This has nothing to do with Max,” he said dismissively. “If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m not the marrying kind. I’m happy for you. But I hate you for leaving me in the lurch like this. I had this vision of our future, Wanda. Me and you, solving crimes for years and years. We’d be middle-aged and graying. You’d be fat. I’d be bald.”
    “That’s your rosy vision of our future?” I asked. “Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms over his cute, skinny chest.
    I felt a pang. “First of all, I’m never going to get fat. And second, sometimes I forget that you’re a big sopping wet Kleenex. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about this sooner. But I suppose I knew you’d be bummed, and I hate to upset my best friend. Except when you deserve it, of course.”
    Alex considered my quasi-apology. “This is where we’re supposed to hug and say ‘I love you.’ ”
    “Let’s not and say we did,” I suggested.
    “Good call,” Alex agreed. “And may I also add that when you’re fifty and big as a house, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”
    “I’ll brain you if you do.”
    Max returned, unable to locate the doctor who could release me. Alex smiled at me. I felt better now that he knew.
    “Let’s just go,” I said, sick of waiting for some doctor to give me permission to leave. So we left the hospital. It was a Saturday afternoon. I was still kind of sore, but my skin was recovering nicely. I might have some scarring, but nothing a little vitamin E couldn’t fix in a few years. We were just outside the hospital, starting our walk home when Annabelle came running after us.
    “Wait!” she shouted with her Jamaican lilt. “Ms, Mallory! Hold up.”
    We held up. She reached us quickly. She was out of breath from the run. She wiped her forehead with her heavily bangled arm and handed me a large manila envelope. “This belongs to you,” she said. “It couldn’t help us save that man—Freddie Kruger. He was too far gone to do much of anything. But I thought you might want it. I planned to bring it up to you sooner, but things got busy. You know how it is.”
    “Don’t I.” My heart started to pound in my chest. I opened the envelope. Sure enough, the shiny green spiral notebook was inside. I quickly closed the envelope and thanked Annabelle. “Where is Freddie now?” I asked, having forgotten about him.
    “He’s working for the hospital, actually. As a physical therapist for kids with musculature problems. The patients don’t seem to be afraid of him, despite his appearance. Some even like him that way. And he does have those magic fingers.” That much I knew. We said good-bye. We agreed to have coffee, but we both knew we never would. Once she’d gone, I asked Max, “How much do you think one of those big pharmaceutical companies would pay for this research?”
    “A few million, give or take a hundred thousand,” he figured.
    “That should be enough,” I said.
    Alex asked, “For what?”
    “Whatever,” I answered.

    Mr. Burpe was stationed on the stoop when we got back to our apartment. He grunted. I gave him the finger. Max and I agreed it didn’t make sense to move out right away—we’d keep the place for a year. We’d have to make an Ikea run to replace the stuff Ergort splintered. He unpacked everything and bought a futon couch in the meantime. Alex and I sat on it while Max made us some frozen margaritas.
    “You miss that bimbo?” I asked Alex. Leeza told him about her decision to go to London with one foot out the door to the airport.
    “What bimbo?” he asked. He pushed hair off his face. His brown pearls seemed foggy for a second. He shook his head to clear it. A pang gripped my chest. I hoped Alex wasn’t lonely. I knew things would never be the same between us. The thought made me sad.
    “I guess it’s good you’re quitting,” he announced.
    “You mean, now that I’m married?” I asked.
    “No. I mean now that you got burned physically and otherwise.”
    I smiled and touched his cheek. “There you go, reading my mind again.”
    “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” He picked at the futon cover. I got worried for him. What would he do? In some ways, he was more alone now than I ever was.
    I considered this. “I may be back someday, Alex. Why don’t you keep Do It Right going until then?”
    He faced me. His eyes seemed eager, but scared. “You think I can?” he asked, uncertain. “Do you really?”
    I thought about it.