Alex Harris 00 - Armed

yet. What’s that face for?” I turned my attention to John who did his damnedest to mask his sheepish expression. It surprised me at how comfortable it felt to be around him—almost like we’d been together forever. “You know something more, don’t you?”
    “Nothing I can talk about at this time.”
    With those words hanging in the air, I realized for the first time that if John and I continued with what looked like a budding relationship, I couldn’t count on him to share everything with me. Did I want to date a cop? All these doubts instantly vanished a second later when he flashed me a smile and I looked deep into those incredible eyes.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

    “So how do I know if I really need a new mattress,” I asked the young salesman.
    “How old is the one you’re using now?”
    After savoring a relaxing morning and lingering over tea and an English muffin, I had a burst of energy and now found myself at the mall just a few days before Christmas, inside a mattress store currently advertising a big sale.
    I looked up to the ceiling, arms crossed. “Well, let me think. My parents gave it to me, and they had it for a while, and now I’ve been using it for several years…at least thirty years old, I would imagine.”
    The young man, already looking overwrought after a week of “unimaginable bargains” at the store, almost choked on a piece of candy cane. “The average lifespan of a mattress is about twelve years. I’d say you’re over due a bit.”
    I gave him my best imitation of the evil eye. “It doesn’t have any holes or anything. It seems perfectly fine to me.”
    “Then why are you here?” he asked testily.
    “I saw your ads. Well, my back’s been bothering me a bit lately. I thought it might be my mattress.” I reached my hand around to the small of my back and gave a small wince, wondering if I caught something from Joanne.
    “We have a great one over here,” the young man, whose nametag said Jeff, told me as he walked toward the back of the store. “This is the Field of Dreams model. It’s got extra springs right here and here.” He indicated two spots somewhere in the middle of the mattress. “Do you sleep on your back?”
    “No. Stomach.” I bounced around on the mattress.
    “That could be your problem right there,” Jeff said, with a knowing look.
    “This is really nice. But how do I know if it’s the right one? I don’t suppose you can lock me up all night and let me try it out,” I asked from the middle of the bed, curled on my side.
    “No. But we can give you a ninety-day, money-back guarantee.”
    I looked at the price. “Well, this is reasonable, but tell me, there’s one right when I walked in that costs three times as much. So if I buy this one, am I getting a worthless piece of junk? Why such a huge difference in price?”
    Jeff walked toward the front of the store while I grabbed my shoes and hurried after him. “This one’s got a lot more foam and the quality…”
    I didn’t pay any more attention. Joanne Reed, burdened by lots of packages, walked quickly by the front of the store. I dropped my purse and coat, and managed to pull my shoes back on. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. How long does the sale last?” I asked as I headed for the door.
    “Till tomorrow night but we can deliver on day of purchase,” Jeff yelled out after me.

    *****

    I heard the phone ringing from the garage. I dropped my few packages and ran through to the living room. “Hello,” I said, out of breath as I tried to shrug out of my coat and take off a glove.
    “Alex, it’s John. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
    John? I still had a hard time relating to Detective Van der Burg as John. “Oh, John. No. I just walked in. Hold on a second.” I put the phone down and removed my other burgundy glove, pulled the matching scarf from around my neck, and picked up the phone again. “Okay. I’m back. I just wanted to get my coat off.”
    “Well, put it back on and meet me at The Bread Basket. Do you know it?”
    “Yes, I know it. What’s going on? Would you rather come here?” Silence on the other end. “John?”
    “No. I’d better not. The Bread Basket is midway between your house and the station, and I’ll need to come back. Can you be there in about twenty minutes?”
    “I’m leaving right now.”
    The Bread Basket wouldn’t be very busy on this Friday before Christmas. It would probably pick up in about an when cold shoppers needed an afternoon