Love You to Death by Melissa March Page A

smarter this time.
    I sealed the money in a freezer bag and
buried it in the back yard under one of the rain spouts. I tried to
look up bus schedules while I was at work, but I rarely had the
time, my breaks were over before the antique computer could list
the routes. Cass, ever the bloodhound, must’ve sensed something. He
shadowed me for the last six weeks as if he knew I was planning to
run.
    And now, here I was, married. I still
couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t old enough to buy booze, but I was
legally bound to Cass. Bringing the flute of champagne to my lips I
giggled hysterically.
    Here’s to you, Mom. I silently toasted
her. I tried to help you and couldn’t. I tried to help myself
and couldn’t do that either.
    “Here, have another.” Kara pushed a
champagne-filled flute into my hand. “You’ll need it.”
    I took it, nodding my thanks before guzzling
it down.
    “Easy there, Betty Ford.” She took the empty
glasses from me, setting them on a nearby table.
    “I did it.” I hiccupped. “I officially ruined
my life.”
    “Don’t expect an argument from me.” She
snorted.
    We stood side by side, staring out at the
water. Gales of laughter erupted behind us.
    “I’m still leaving.” I promised out loud,
more for my sake than hers.
    “I hope you do,” she said, taking my hand and
giving it a squeeze.
    “There you are,” Cass slurred. He was well on
his way to being drunk. “I’ve been looking for you.”
    “Don’t worry, Cass, she didn’t jump.” Kara
gave him a sarcastic grin.
    “You’re so funny.” Cass shook his finger at
her. He didn’t laugh.
    “C’mon, Mrs. Bateman, I wanna dance with my
bride.” He slung an arm around my bare shoulders, placing a wet
kiss on the corner of my mouth. I cast a backward glance at Kara
and rolled my eyes.
    Our plan was to spend the night at the
Marriott at BWI and then fly to Las Vegas for our honeymoon. I was
doing my best to get completely drunk so I would pass out and not
have to sleep with Cass at all, or pass out while he had sex with
my lifeless body. Either way, I wanted to be unconscious.
    The evening was winding down. Most of the
guests were starting to leave. I was on my way to the bathroom when
I saw Cass duck into another room. Curious, I followed him, leaning
my ear against the closed door.
    There was someone in there with him. I could
hear what they were saying without any trouble; they weren’t
exactly whispering.
    “Here you go buddy, ten large. Enjoy that
honeymoon,” a man guffawed.
    “I will. She’s a cherry, ya know,” Cass
bragged in a drunken slur. I swallowed back the bile in my throat.
Ten grand? I often wondered how he lived so extravagantly on a
detective’s salary. I quickly counted off the possible side jobs he
was doing. Drugs? Mafia? Was he on the take?
    “Lucky man,” the voice said. “So, what are we
doing with the retard?”
    Retard? I smashed my ear harder against the
door.
    “Keep him where he is, in case they want more
tests. I’ll take care of him when I get back.”
    “He’s a smart retard. After all this time he
keeps asking for her. He ain’t buying the story about her getting
killed that night. He puts on that stupid kids mask and gets all
bossy. It’s funny.”
    I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.
Were they talking about Stewie?
    “Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Cass chuckled. “Like I
said, I’ll take care of him when I get back.”
    I jumped away just as the door opened and
made it look as if I was coming from the bathroom.
    “There’s my girl!” Cass bellowed, clamping a
hand on my arm steering me into the ballroom. I never saw who the
other man was.
    * * * *
    “Oh God, not again,” Cass moaned as he raced
for the bathroom.
    I watched, unaffected by his problem. After
all, I was the one who spiked his champagne with a few drops of
Visine. I saw it in a movie. No sex for him tonight. I smiled at my
genius.
    I sat on the hotel bed in my lacey nightie,
supplied by Cass of course, and