The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Skeletons in the Closet

wanted to give him a serious reality check, to inform him that I was investigating him and that I knew he’d been shagging Mrs. Kline, but the words stuck in my throat.
    “You’re absolutely right,” I said instead.
    “You missed your chance, hot stuff. Now I know what a psycho you really are.” He snorted and moved to the back of his cell.
    Thank God for small favors.

    * * * *
    It took Neil and Mr. Grayson until daybreak to secure my release from the holding tank. Annie Oakley had wanted to press trespassing charges, but Mr. Grayson had been very persuasive and informed her it would be better for all involved, and we were all released with a warning.
    “So, do you want to tell me about it now?” Neil had stayed quiet for most of the drive, and I could practically hear him grinding his teeth.
    “Well….”
    “Jesus H. Christ, Maggie, what the hell were you thinking? It’s a damn good thing Sylvia bee-lined for our house. I woke up, and you weren’t there. I was about to call hospitals!”
    I swallowed around the huge lump of guilt in my throat. I knew exactly how he felt, because it wasn’t so long ago that I’d spent the sleepless nights worrying about Neil’s well being. Those three a.m. thoughts of is he warm enough; did he get enough to eat; oh, God, please don’t let anyone be shooting at him; don’t let him be hurt or killed , and a plethora of other morbid musings could give one an ulcer.
    I couldn’t speak; it took all of my effort not to cry because I wouldn’t wish that kind of anxiety on my worst enemy, let alone the man I loved more than my own stupid life.
    “I was so scared, Maggie,” Neil said, and I was surprised to find a sheen of tears in his eyes as well. His anger had burned out, replaced by a mixture of concern and relief. “It was so unlike you, taking off without leaving a note, and in the middle of the night. Then Sylvia shows up, ranting about some old lady with a gun, and I lost it! And with all of the crazy shit going on lately…I don’t know, I guess my imagination went wild.”
    I knew how much it cost him to say all this, since Neil has been trained to never show weakness or fear under duress. I lost the battle, and the tears streamed down my grimy face. Neil stopped for a red light and turned to look at me.
    And burst out laughing.
    “You really are a sight, you know that? I feel like I’m driving little orphan Annie.”
    “Just be glad it isn’t Annie Oakley,” I muttered.
    “What?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    Neil took the next left and pulled into the parking lot of the local Methodist Church. He turned off the engine before giving me his undivided attention.
    “We’ve got nothing but time, so let’s hear it.”
    Here’s the thing about being married to a SEAL. I imagine it’s like being married to Superman. There are no illusions; you know for a fact that he’s smarter than you, tougher than you, and he is always favored to win any battle of wills. I guess some women might be intimidated by this scenario. Not me. I know that I don’t have to hit every curve ball life throws my way because I’ve got Superman on standby. Sharing my woes was easier than I’d imagined, and I outlined all of the major events of the past twenty-four hours.
    “So that about sums it up,” I said with a weak smile.
    Neil looked at me without blinking for a moment, then closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his seat.
    “What do you think? Should I—”
    “Hush. I’m thinking.”
    As Neil ruminated, I listened to the traffic pick up, and a few cars turned into the church parking lot.
    Neil started the car when he realized that a few of the church patrons stared at us. Or more aptly, stared at me.
    “I want you out of it, Maggie. You’re a civilian, an untrained civilian. Tonight was a perfect example of why you need to let the police handle this.”
    “But—”
    “No. Goddamn. Buts!” Each word fired at me like a bullet. “There’s a killer on the loose, do you understand that? Someone who has committed murder and you’re treating this like a game!”
    I didn’t want to fight with him, so I ground my teeth in silence. We arrived home without further comment. I took note of Sylvia’s truck parked at the curb between our houses and wondered if she’d called Eric to tell him what had transpired. I stooped to retrieve the rolled up newspaper on the front porch and groaned as cold air hit my stiff and exposed backside.
    Neil passed me