She swallowed. “Well I mean, it is...”
“I think she wants a divorce,” said Fiona, moving to the coffee machine.
Broch’s eyes widened. “A divorce?”
Catriona squeezed her eyes shut as if the act could make her invisible. “Will you two shut up for five seconds so I can finish this phone call?”
“So you’re married?” asked Sean.
“I guess. Yes. For now. I’ll get it cleared up.”
Sean sighed. “You two have to figure out what you’re doing with each other before you drive me crazy.”
“Sure. Absolutely. We’re only here to serve.” Catriona frowned as she recalled Sean saying something interesting earlier in their conversation.
Tell her to stay there. You’ll be out and busy anyway.
“Why did you say we’d be busy?” she asked.
“I did? Oh, right. You will be. Crafty People is missing a host, so I need you to go see if you can help find her.”
“Isn’t that a little below my pay grade? Can’t they just send a PA to her door? She’s probably sleeping one off.”
“They already sent someone. They’re out of ideas beyond getting the police involved and we don’t want that.”
Catriona huffed. “Fine. I was hoping to take a day off. I’m a head-to-toe contusion, remember?”
“Better not to wallow. Keep moving.”
“Healing is not wallowing.” Even as she said the words, she knew Sean might be right. The last thing she wanted to do was to close her eyes and see that pit full of dead girls again.
“I’ll check in later,” he said, clearly maneuvering to get off the phone.
“Can’t wait.”
They hung up and Catriona let the phone fall to her side. Kilty stood staring at her, the marriage certificate still in his hand. He had an expectant air about him, as if he were waiting for answers.
Like I have any of those.
Fiona smirked at her from beside the refrigerator. Somehow she was smiling and licking peanut butter off a spoon at the same time.
Catriona pointed at her sister. “You better not double dip that.”
“Closest thing to non-carb I could find in your crapfest of a refrigerator.” Her gaze darted to Broch and back to Catriona. “So am I buying a wedding card or a divorce card? Does Hallmark make cards for the dissolution of Vegas weddings?”
“Probably make a killing on them,” mumbled Catriona, heading for her bedroom.
“Where ye goan?” asked Broch. She could hear his footsteps in pursuit. “We need tae talk aboot this.”
“We have a job. Go get dressed.”
She held up a hand in an attempt to silence him, but Broch grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her to him. He murmured in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her back.
“Are we merrit or nae?”
Ohyesyesyes...
She felt herself melting into his arms before remembering the ebony-haired headache slurping peanut butter in the front room.
Witch.
She pulled from Broch’s embrace and flicked the certificate with her finger. “In the eyes of the law we are, yes.”
“And in the eyes of God?”
Catriona shrugged. “You’d have to ask Him. They had a little chapel, right? Am I remembering that right? I suppose that counts.”
He placed a hand on her upper arm, his eyes getting that soft, misty look that always made her melt. “And in yer eyes?”
Catriona’s attention flicked to Fiona, who had strolled into the bedroom, her face awash with bemusement at the soap opera playing before her.
Catriona felt her cheeks flash with angry heat.
“We have to go. Go get dressed. My face hurts. We’ll get all this worked out later.”
She walked into the bathroom where she could shut the door. Leaning her back against it, she took a deep breath.
How could we have really been married? Did I know what I was doing? Did I fool myself into marriage?
She stared at her swollen lip and blackened eye in the mirror.
Ugh.
Who would marry that?
Chapter Seven
During their walk to the Crafty People set, Catriona had expected Broch to talk her ear off. He tended to get excited the same way a three-year-old boy did—a lot of talking, a little running around and then more talking.
Instead, he strode beside her in pouty silence, which made her feel even worse. It seemed the rush of excitement he’d enjoyed after discovering their marriage had been replaced by deep disappointment.
In her.
Catriona opened her mouth to explain to him, once again, that it was unusual for people to marry within a month or two of meeting each other. It wasn’t like the old days where you spotted some girl with childbearing hips and immediately dropped to one knee.
She gently pressed her fat lip against her other, slightly less fat lip.
What’s the point?
She’d already tried to explain it to him a hundred times, and no matter what she said, they were married now. What did a piece of a paper mean anyway? Maybe she could call this marriage a sort of engagement and—
“Can I help you?”
Catriona stopped short as a man with a clipboard stepped in front of her. They’d already reached the entrance to the Crafty People filming lot. She had little memory of making the ten-minute trek.
She glanced behind her to make sure Broch was still on her heels. He was, his previous pout all grown-up into a deep frown of disapproval as he eyed the paunchy young man blocking their entrance to the lot.
“I’m here about the missing person,” said Catriona, realizing Sean had never given her a name.
The man stared down his nose at her and then glanced at his clipboard. “Name?”
“What’s your name?” she asked, hoping to turn the tables.
The young man pursed his lips. “Greg. I need your
