Free The Catcher in the Eye (America's Next Top Assistant Mystery Book 1) by Lotta Smith Page A

air
to help prevent my voice from cracking. “Maybe those mean Brits were right that
I’m a poisonous bitch deep inside.”
    Archangel kept on
driving without saying a word.
    “First of all, I
fancied the idea of shooting the tabloid guys from UK with an automatic weapon
just to quiet them. And as much as I was happy for her, I was envious of Dr.
Stewart. I knew she had chosen to marry someone who doesn’t lie, jilt, or
conduct a Ponzi-scheme while I chose to marry someone who does anything to get
what he wants without hesitation or remorse. Plus, my ex was capable of withholding
vital information such as that he’d undergone vasectomy to keep the wives from
getting pregnant. That bastard. I know the grass is always greener on the other
side of the fence and I know it was my own decision and stupidity for being
such a blind not to see his dark, lying, criminal, pathological side. I’m fully
aware of that. But I couldn’t… just couldn’t stop imagining what ifs—like if I
had a child with Warren and so on. I know it’s ridiculous and useless to
daydream such a thing. And the saddest part was that he never told me about having
the vasectomy. It was only after the divorce settlement that he finally came
clean that he loathed the concept of having children and building a family. He had
the audacity to tell me that he regarded children nothing but rivals he has to
compete to get the wife’s attention.”
    I felt warmth on
my shoulder.
    “Don’t get all
tensed up.” Archangel whispered, patting my shoulder. “The last thing you want
right now is a stroke.” His face was unreadable.
    “Sorry,” I said, “maybe
I’m boring you to tears.”
    “Don’t be sorry,”
he said. “Your story wasn’t boring and as a matter of fact, shooting the shit
out of those media cretins was somewhat tempting except that’s illegal. In
addition, you’ve finally confirmed my speculation was right.”
    “What speculation?”
    “You’re idiot who
still has feelings for that pathological liar after everything.” His words were
harsh, but his tone was soft. “But you’re normal for the most part.”
    “I might be an
idiot, but I’m normal. Lovely, just lovely.” I gave a light chuckle then I
realized my cheeks were all wet with tears. Oh yeah, I was an idiot. What kind
of a smart person still kept their ancient flip phone from the past marriage? How
pathetic was I to cling to the same old cell phone number, awaiting the ex in
prison to call? I was one step away from wailing and sobbing. 
    “Besides that, just
being a teensy bit envious of someone is a whole lot different from wishing
that special someone to death.” Archangel tossed a tiny box of tissues on my
lap. “It was nothing more than a short lasting emotion. Your envy didn’t kill
her or her baby, regardless of your point of view toward the universe, karma,
kabala, feng-shui, or whatever psychobabble you’re into, understand?”
    “Mr. Archangel, sometimes
you are really sweet.” Blowing my nose in an unladylike manner, I said.
    “I’m sweet, gentle,
sensible, and considerate for 24/7. Didn’t you know that? Another red flag for your
silliness.” He shrugged. “What we can do now is help catch the killer ASAP. It
doesn’t bring the victims back to life, but at least, securing the killer
behind the bars can relieve the loss, pain, and sufferings of the victims’
families and loved ones, if only a little. On top of all, by capturing the
killer, we can stop any more killing. So, personally, I believe it would be
more constructive to think about whodunit than crying over imaginary spilt milk.”
    “I agree with you,
especially getting more constructive part.” I said between sobs.
    “Hey, look on the
bright side. Unlike your ex-hubby who’s got three-hundred-plus-year prison time
left to serve, you’re a free person. This fact alone tells that you’re a lot
better than him. If there’s a loser that’s him, not you. Maybe you can find new
romances,