The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag by Jennifer L. Hart Page A

camper,” I hefted my chin defiantly. “I already hooked up the portable space heater so if you wanna go crash, be my guest.”
    Neil stared at me for a beat. “Are you telling me that I can’t sleep in my own house?”
    “For one damn night, Neil, suck it up.”
    He crowded me against the bathroom sink, a dangerous light in his eyes. “Suck it up?” He repeated, leaning in so I was trapped between his body and the counter.
    “You were a SEAL, for the love of grief. Aren’t you accustomed to roughing it?” For a second, I thought he was going to lose it and shout the house down, waking its various occupants. Then, something shifted; he cocked his head to the side and studied me.
    “Maggie, what’s going on? Did something happen?” Concern was written clearly across his features and threaded through his deep voice. Oh, God, I was going to cave. This was not the time. I needed him furious, ready to tear my head off because he had to sleep in the world’s crappiest RV, not compassionate. I had no defense against Neil’s sympathy and how wrong would it be to melt into his arms for the night?
    Very wrong, at least until I knew what was going on with him. Neil had never lied to me before, at least not to my knowledge, and Dr. Bob’s well metaphor, along with Sylvia’s conviction that men were designed to stray, had taken root. My rational mind went over the facts, time and again, but the truth wouldn’t be denied. Neil had lied to me and I’d caught him. Even if he wasn’t cheating, he’d still betrayed my trust.
    “Yes and no. I don’t want to get into it now, all right?” I ducked his arm and leaned over the tub, checking the water temperature. Tired and heartsick, part of me cried out to grab hold of my husband and sob until these horrible feelings went away. The reprieve would come at a price though, which I’d pay come the morning when Neil disappeared again. And I wasn’t willing to barter my self-respect for the illusion of comfort.
    Ask him, my mother’s voice echoed in my head, but I pushed her advice away. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t lie to me again. Some things needed to be witnessed firsthand.
    “Penny cooked again. I saved you some casserole. It’s in the fridge; just nuke it for two minutes.” I could feel his gaze on my back and turned to face him. “Give me a few minutes, please. Between Penny and Josh, the bathroom has been like Grand Central all day.”
    Neil opened his mouth to say something, but then though better of it. “I’ll leave you alone.” The door shut with a final sounding click.
    I stared at the bath, lacking the energy to shed my clothes and slither into the water until I was immersed in bubbles. Like a soak in the tub would make everything all right? No matter how long I stalled, I still had to get out eventually and join Neil in the camper. He’d poke and prod until I told him everything. Dr. Bob and his stupid highways of communication could kiss my butt.
    “Maggie,” Neil tapped on the door and I closed my eyes.
    “What is it?”
    “Phone for you.”
    Huh, that was odd. It was after ten and almost everyone I knew was under our roof. “Who is it?”
    “Detective Capri.” There was a pause, and then Neil opened the bathroom door. He looked pointedly at the undisturbed bathwater, but refused to comment. “She wants to know when you last spoke with Mrs. Valentino.”
    I held out my hand for the phone. “What’s going on, Detective? Capri’s clipped Bostonian accent came over the line. “When was your last contact with Candie Valentino?” I stared at Neil who leaned against the sink, shamelessly eavesdropping. “Yesterday, after the to-do with the dead bird. Why?” Capri ignored the question. “You didn’t speak with her over the phone, maybe try to convince her to talk to me, or leave her husband?” I scowled at my cordless. “No, I told you. I’ve been busy today. Has something happened to Candie?” Capri exhaled a sound like a gale