Millie pulls into her driveway, exhausted and ready to collapse. Her eyes are red and dry, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. She glances at the clock—nearly three a.m. I can still get in a few hours of sleep before my shift, she thinks.
Quietly, she makes her way inside, tiptoeing up the stairs. Moonlight shimmers through the colorless blind, giving her just enough light to see. When she steps into the master bedroom, Steven snores softly—a comforting sound she's grown to love and often misses when he's away.
She glances down at her clothes and then toward the dresser holding her nightgowns. I'm too exhausted to change, she thinks, falling into bed.
Millie startles awake when the alarm blares. Sunlight pours through the blinds. "I feel like I haven't slept at all," she grumbles, switching off the noisy device. Every fiber of her weary body aches with the simplest movements. If only I could get a few more minutes of sleep.
Falling back onto her pillow, she jerks the covers over her head.
"It's time to get up." Steven calls from the doorway. Seeing she's still in bed, he turns to leave.
"I'm up," she mutters, shoving the covers aside. "I wish I could stay in bed for the next week, but I can't." She throws her feet over the side of the bed.
"You could always call in."
"I'm tempted to, believe me."
"Then do." He gently strums his finger down the side of her face, smiling. "You and I could spend the day in bed."
She slips her feet into cozy pink slippers. "As tempting as that sounds, I just can't do that to them."
Steven hands her a steaming coffee cup. "Good thing I added espresso."
"I'll need a triple shot the way I'm feeling." Millie takes a small sip. "I'm not sure that'll be enough."
Steven brushes the tangled hair from her face and kisses her forehead. "The hospital is going to be the death of you, working all night and then again today."
"I wasn't called in this morning, Steven."
"Oh?" He sits on the bed beside her.
"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a drive."
"Is something bothering you?"
Millie's face pales when she recalls what she was told. "One of my coworkers was found dead in his home."
"That's awful."
"Everyone is afraid we might be next."
Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he pulls her in close and says, "Don't worry, honey. You're safe with me."
"What about when you leave?"
"I'm sure they'll catch the killer by then, and if not, I'll install an alarm, maybe adopt a dog."
"Thanks, honey. You're the greatest." She sips her coffee again. "I'm sorry I woke you last night."
"You didn't. The garage door did. He chuckles. "I figured that I probably deserve it for putting off fixing the stupid thing." He looks at the clock. "You better get ready."
She glances over to find she only has ten minutes to shower and change. "I've got to hurry."
Steven takes her empty cup. "I'll have another ready when you come down."
She rushes to the bathroom. Sorry, guys, but a shower's out today.
She starts to pull her t-shirt over her head when she notices a small reddish-brown stain near the hem. Holding it up to the light, she frowns. That's blood, alright—but I don't remember hurting myself.
She checks her arms and doesn't find a single mark. So where did it come from?
A tap interrupts her thoughts.
"You better hurry, honey, if you don't want to be late." Steven knocks, respectful as always. He's the only male out of six siblings, so he's learned early not to barge in.
"I'm almost finished." She glances at the stain again. I'll figure out where it came from when I get home.
Changing into her scrubs, she heads out. Steven hands her a fresh coffee mug, kisses her cheek, and smiles. "Hope you have a wonderful day."
"I just hope I will survive."
***
Millie pulls into the hospital parking lot and spots several police cruisers. A group of officers are chatting near the corner of the lot. What's going on? Millie hurries inside.
She reaches the entryway and sees police questioning staff. Call lights flash above patients' doors. Some are yelling for nurses; others have family members lingering in doorways, looking for help.
"What's going on?" she asks the charge nurse as she zips by.
"Help me answer these call lights."
"Sure."
Once things settle down, Agatha turns to Millie, sighs, and says, "Thanks for the assist."
"I'm glad I could help. So why are the police here questioning everyone?"
"Evan Brown was found shot in his home."
Millie gasps. That's horrible."
Agatha eyes her carefully and asks, "Didn't you and he have words yesterday?"
"I wouldn't call it an argument, not on my part anyway. I told him he needs to start dropping off patients and leave instead of flirting with all the nurses for hours at a time. He said, "I've turned into a withered old hag since I married Steven."
"That's an interesting story, Miss Clark. Mind if we talk?"
Millie turns to find a tall, rounded officer behind her. He has short, brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a five o'clock shadow that gives some color to his pale skin.
"Not at all, detective." Millie leans forward to get a closer look at his name tag.
"Everyone calls me Jerry."
Jerry shares that after eight years in the military, he joined the police academy—unaware his old military pal Joe had graduated earlier. Joe, now a sergeant, offered him a spot at the Berryville PD. Jerry works his way up to sergeant, with Joe rising to captain. Health issues push Jerry to step down, trading early retirement for a quieter role.
"Let's go into the nurses' lounge," Millie says, leading the way.
The space is practical—a refrigerator, microwave, and industrial coffee pot in one corner; a sink on the opposite wall. Large tables sit scattered throughout the room.
Jerry pulls out his notebook, glances up, and asks, "What time did your shift end yesterday?"
"You don't waste any time, do you, detective?" Millie says as she settles into her chair.
"Not when there've been two murders a day apart. So, what time did you leave?"
"My shift ends at seven, but I didn't clock out around seven thirty. I have to give the oncoming shift report and do rounds."
"Where did you go after you left the hospital?"
"I went home and took a nap. It was a busy day—we were short-staffed."
"What did you do once you woke up?"
"My husband, Steven, and I went out to celebrate our fifth anniversary. I can't believe we've been married that long already. Time flies when you're having fun." She giggles.
Jerry glances up from his notebook and smiles. "Congratulations."
"Thanks."
"So, where'd you two lovebirds go?"
"He took me to a fancy restaurant in Eureka Springs."
"Do you recall the name?"
"It was Rogue Manor. See, that's where we had our first date. Like the first time, we had to wait for a table. But let me tell you, detective, it was worth it."
"I've heard nothing but good things about that place. Where did you two go after that?"
"Home. It was late, and I had an early shift the next day." Millie starts to tell the officer about the drive she took this morning. but decides against it since it might raise red flags.
"Your husband can confirm this?"
"Yes." I need to call him and tell him not to mention last night's drive, she thinks.
"We'll be in touch." Jerry stands, walks across the room, and then turns back. "One more thing—who was driving your car early this morning?"
Her heart pounds. Her body trembles. Her tan complexion pales. He caught me in a lie, she thinks, trying to calm herself.
"Did your husband go somewhere around two a.m.?"
"No, that was me. I was driving through town."
"I thought you said you went home to bed?"
"I did, but I couldn't sleep, so I went for a drive."
"Did you stop anywhere or see anyone?"
"No."
"I see. Well, thank you for your time."
They think I killed Sam, and now Evan… Oh, this is bad. Really bad.