“I think I’ll go back to our room now and check on Charity and the kids... it’s late,” Michael murmured, edging out of the room toward the door with wide eyes and a smile behind one gigantic hand.
Murphy grunted without turning.
“Did you learn how to speak Guy from J’onn J’ones, Murph?” I managed. “I’m impressed! I mean, I always wondered... and now seemed as good a time as any to ask you, so...”
Murphy muttered something incoherent. Then my best guy friend, Former Knight of the Cross Michael Carpenter, shrugged his shoulders and cringed, abandoning me to my fate.
“Call us if there’s any change, Karrin- come get me if you have to. You know which room...” Michael said, swallowing his grin as he held the door open for a moment and looked at both of us. Then he pulled it closed. I heard the click of the locking mechanism, then his footsteps trailing off, and he was gone.
Karrin Murphy didn’t turn to watch the empty door.
Instead, she just looked at me. There were angry tears running down her face.
I threw the chicken leg to the floor and straightened to my full height.
“Thank you for not saying anything,” Murphy mumbled, her golden hair drooping with her shoulders as she put one little hand against my pyjama’d chest.
“Duckies, Dresden?” she breathed, looking my rubber-ducky-dotted flannel pyjama shirt and bottoms (with handy pockets) up and down. “You’re such a pansy. If I was still a cop, I’d arrest you on behalf of the fashion police.”