Regan smiled. “Kit, somehow I don’t think that would go over so well.”

“Just a suggestion.”

“Well, Alfred, two more April Brides to go. Do you think we’ll be hearing from them soon?”

“I hope not. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

11

Thank God for my animals, Joyce thought, as she placed a puppy she’d been grooming in the front window of the pet store. They always want to be with me. Unlike Francis who had called from the road and said that he was going to Atlantic City with Marco. She couldn’t wait for that Marco to get lost. He was such a bad influence. Hopefully, Francis could go back to work soon, Marco would leave, and she and Francis could get their life back.

Joyce wanted to settle down. It was about time. She wanted to have kids and animals and buy a house out on Long Island. Just not too close to Francis’s mother, who had called and asked if Joyce wanted to come out and spend the night with the folks while Francis was away.

No thank you! she had responded, almost too quickly. She would go home and take it easy. It would be nice to have some peace and quiet in the house. Marco had the television on every second he was awake. In the middle of the night, he’d wake up and turn it on, then the parrot would start to squawk.

Although the parrot enjoyed watching television.

“Hey, Joyce,” her co-worker Bunny called to her. “You have another phone call.”

“Thanks.”

All the workers at Teddy’s Pet Store had cell phones, but Teddy insisted the phones remain off in the shop. “All that ringing and beeping and those crazy songs disturb the peace,” he declared. “The animals shouldn’t have to put up with it!”

Any personal calls would be on the house phone, and they would be brief. “If you’re not taking care of a customer, you should be giving love to the animals,” he proclaimed.

Joyce hurried to the phone by the register. “Hello,” she said as she played with a tiny Velcro ball that was on the counter and intended for cats’ amusement.

“Joyce, it’s Cindy.”

Cindy was Joyce’s single neighbor. Nosy but nice. They saw each other more in the summertime when they threw barbecues together. Cindy was about her age, divorced, and always on the hunt for a new guy. “Hi, Cindy. What’s going on?”

“I saw Francis and Marco speed down the block before. Are they heading out of town again?

She’s always digging for information, Joyce thought. Cindy should have been an archaeologist. “Another boys’ night out,” Joyce answered, forcing herself to sound cheery. “It’s okay. By the time I’m through here, I’m happy to go home and relax.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Listen, Joyce, I’m going into the city with some of the girls tonight. We’re going to Little Italy for pasta. The place has music. It’ll be fun.”

Joyce paused-for a fraction of a second. She loved the energy in Little Italy. Its narrow cobblestone streets, colored lights, and bustling restaurants all made for a great atmosphere. “That sounds great. I’m not that tired.”

“You go, girl,” Cindy said. “If the boys can go out and play, so can the girls.”

“That’s for sure.”

“What time do you get off work?”

“Five.”

“Go home and relax for a couple of hours. Take a nap. I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll make it a fun night.”

Pasta, a little wine, music, some laughs with the girls. It’s what I need, Joyce thought as she hung up the phone.

So what was bothering her?

The front door opened, and a young mother and her son came in. His arm was bandaged.

“What happened to you?” Joyce asked sweetly.

“I fell going up the steps and I had a glass in my hand. I cut my arm, and it bled all over.

Joyce’s mind flashed to the bloody paper napkin she’d found in the bathroom wastebasket this morning. Francis and Marco were sleeping when she left for work. She’d forgotten to ask Francis about it when he called.

“I told my mother I’d feel better if she bought me a puppy.”

“I’m sure that would make you feel better…” Joyce agreed, leading them to the front window where three little cocker spaniels were scampering around in piles of shredded paper.

I wish I knew what would make me feel better, she thought. Maybe a night on the town with the girls will do the trick.

12

Francis and Marco were on the Garden State Parkway in New Jersey heading south to Atlantic City.

“What’s the matter?” Marco asked.

“Nothing’s the matter. Why should something be the matter?” Francis asked, looking out the side window.

Marco took his hands off the steering wheel to adjust the hand towel he had wrapped around his wrist. The car started to veer to the right.

“Watch it!” Francis yelled.

“You’re very uptight.”

“Please keep your hands on the wheel.”

“I know how to drive. I’ve never had an accident.”

“You also said you’ve never been arrested.”

“Very funny. You’ve been quiet since you got off the phone with Joyce.”

“I feel bad. Last Saturday night I left her home. Now, again this Saturday. It’s not right.”

“She’ll get over it. Listen, I’m in pain. My wrist is killing me.”

“Maybe you should go to a doctor in Atlantic City.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You probably need stitches. Just tell the doctor you cut yourself with a knife, that’s all. It doesn’t mean you committed a crime. Even though you did.”

“So did you. What the…?” Marco looked in the rearview mirror. A police car was right behind them flashing its lights.

“Pull over!” came a voice through a bullhorn.

Marco cursed and Francis moaned.

“It’s over,” Francis said. “We’re done. Done!”

“We didn’t do anything.”

“What about the dresses in the trunk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Marco pulled the aging vehicle to the side of the road and stopped. He quickly pulled his sleeve down so that it completely covered the blue hand towel wrapped around his wrist. Before the officer reached the car, he had his license and registration and insurance papers out, hoping to make the ordeal as quick as possible.

A moment later a burly state trooper was standing slightly back from the car. Marco quickly handed over his documents. The trooper took them and walked back to his vehicle while another police car pulled up behind his.

“Safety in numbers,” Francis muttered. “They’re out to find drugs. They should know we have a bunch of foufy wedding dresses in the trunk.”

“Shut up. We’ve also got a lot of cash back there, too.”

Francis groaned.

They sat and waited for what seemed like forever. The trooper finally got out of his car again. He sauntered back up to Marco’s window.

“You in a hurry, boys?”

“No, sir.”

“It seemed like you were.”

“Really?’ Marco feigned surprise. “How fast was I going?”

“Ten miles over the speed limit. Here’s your ticket. And here’s another ticket for a broken tail light.”

“A broken tail light?” Again Marco was aghast.

“You’d better get that fixed real soon. It’s dangerous. And your front left tire looks as if it could use some air. Maybe it has a slow leak. Do you want to change it right now?” He stared down at Marco. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Change it now?” Marco repeated. “Oh, I don’t think so, officer. Perhaps it would be best if we drove to the next rest stop. Maybe I could get the tail light replaced at the same time. And…and…and…I’ll put a little air in the tires. And get the car washed, too.”

“It could sure use it. Wait a minute.” The trooper walked to the back of the car and looked at the tail light. He pulled on a piece of the broken glass.

Francis almost fainted in the front seat. To open the trunk all you had to do was push the button. No key necessary. If the trooper kept fiddling around back there, he’d make four brides very happy.