Fearless in High Heels by Gemma Halliday

fought with the sweaty sheets tangled around my legs.  I blinked in the darkness, trying to get my bearings.  Slowly, familiar shapes came into focus.  My cherry dresser, my mirrored nightstand, my closet, doors open and overflowing with shoeboxes. 
    I was in my own bed, in my own bedroom.  It was just a dream.  I let out a long breath, slowing my heart rate down.  Just a dream. 
    Just a little, nothing to worry about, sex dream about a vampire. 
    I glanced over at the blinking numbers on the alarm clock.  1:13 AM.  And, I noticed, no husband lying in the empty spot on the other side of the bed.  I flipped on the bedside lamp and shoved my feet into a pair of fuzzy pink slippers, going in search of said husband. 
    A single light was on in the living room, next to the sofa where I could see Ramirez reading in the shadows.  I had no idea when he’d gotten home, but a cup of coffee beside him told me he hadn’t yet entertained the idea of sleep.  He had a sheaf of papers in his hands, flipping through the pages.  His face was in shadow, his cheeks dusted with stubble, his features softened by exhaustion just enough to give him a warm, inviting look.  I felt a remaining tingle from my erotic dream hinting as I sat down beside him.
    “Hey,” I said softy.
    He looked up, a grin quickly spreading across his face.  “Hey, yourself.  I didn’t wake you, did I?”
    I shook my head.  “I couldn’t sleep.”
    “Me neither,” he sighed, staring down at the papers in his hands again.
    I leaned in close, my head resting on his shoulder.  I inhaled deeply the woodsy scent of his morning aftershave, still clinging faintly to his collar.  And felt that tingle kick up a notch.  “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the paperwork.
    “Just work,” he responded, throwing an arm around me. 
    I snuggled closer.  “Work?  The Alexa Weston case by any chance?” I asked.
    He nodded.  “Background reports.”
    I squinted down at the small type.  “What’s it say?”
    “Not much, unfortunately.  She grew up in San Diego, then moved north about three years ago to start an acting career.”
    “Family?” I asked.
    “Parents are dead.  She has one sister in Corona Del Mar.”
    “And?”
    “And the local PD talked with her yesterday.  She hasn’t seen Alexa in months.  Apparently Alexa was a bit of the family back sheep.”
    Imagine that.
    “You get the medical examiner’s report back yet?” I asked.
    I felt Ramirez shift beside me.  “No.  And even if I had, I’m not sure I’d be sharing it as bedtime reading with my wife.”
    “Hey, I found her body,” I protested.
    “So what else is new?” he mumbled.
    I gave him a playful elbow to the ribs.
    “Ouch.  Watch it,” he said, but I felt his torso bob up and down with a suppressed chuckle.
    “I’m just feeling a little guilty about it all,” I confessed. 
    “Why?  You kill her?” he teased
    I gave him a less playful elbow this time. 
    “No.  But I did wish her dead right before she turned up dead.”
    “Which had nothing to do with her actual death,” Ramirez pointed out.
    I nodded.  “I know.  But, well, I just feel bad.  Had I known it was her last night on Earth, I might not have called her a bitch.” 
    Ramirez hugged me tighter and planted a kiss on the top of my head.  “I’m sure she’s not holding it against you.”
    The kiss was nice.  Comforting.  And if it was a little lower and a little slower, it might turn into something else.  “You coming to bed?” I asked, getting up.
    Ramirez shook his head, picking up the papers again.  “Soon.  I just want to go over a couple more things here.”
    “Oh.”  I tried not to let my disappointment show.  “Okay, ‘night.”
    “’Night, Maddie.  And, hey, don’t worry,” he added.  “We’ll catch whoever did this to Alexa.”
    I nodded.  “I know,” I said before shuffling back to the bedroom.  Which was the truth. 
    I just didn’t know which