He was kind of cute though, in a big, bear-like, behemoth of a man kind of way.
And now she was the one who needed her head checked. Hardiman was the man out to get her. Not cute.
He turned the vials over in his hands. "Did you find anything else that didn't belong, or just these?"
"Just those. But I didn't really look."
He stood. "Let's look."
And wouldn't you know, he headed straight for her suitcase. She might not remember her evening, but she remembered the flimsy lingerie she favored, and that she'd thrown her dirty underthings into the suitcase when she got dressed that morning. "Stop!"
He flung the suitcase top open and looked back at her. "What?"
Naya raced to his side. "What are you doing?"
"Searching. This is the most likely—" His gaze fell onto the lacy panties lying on top. He took a deep breath. Red flashed up his neck and engulfed his ears.
A breath—the dirty shifter was smelling her underwear. She shoved him out of the way and slammed the suitcase shut. "You go search someplace else."
He chuckled, his ears still pink. "Yes, ma'am."
She waited until he'd crossed to the bureau and started opening drawers, and then she opened the suitcase and pawed through it. At first, nothing jumped out at her, but then she came across the waterlogged pants she'd worn the night before. She checked the pockets, and in the left one, she found a piece of paper.
No, not a piece of paper—a receipt. When she smoothed it out, she saw the name of a store she didn't recognize and two items listed for purchase— "ML3" and "RM2."
Hardiman came up behind her. He reached around her and took hold of the edge of the receipt. The warmth from his body bled into her quickly, leaving a warm ache.
"A receipt?" he said.
There was no way to get away from him without pushing him out of the way, so she ignored the achy feeling and said, "Yeah, and I don't recognize the store."
"Look at the time stamp. This morning at two forty. You don't remember that?"
"Not at all."
He let go of the receipt. "There's an address. We should go there and see if they remember you. Maybe they can tell us what was in the vials."
It was a good idea. She just hated that he'd been the one to think of it. Still, she wasn't going to shoot herself in the foot just to thwart him. "Let's go."
Hardiman had his car, thank Gaia. It wasn’t too far to the shop, but the sun was already beating down. Naya felt like every drop of water in her body had dried up.
The shop was a little hole in the wall on a side street parallel to the Strip but a few blocks away from the glitz. On the corner opposite, a little white and red Shop of Horrors—aka quickie wedding chapel—gleamed, its red neon light flashing. Naya and Hardiman parked right in front of the address on the receipt, got out and headed for the door.
Which was locked. A dingy sign hanging cockeyed told them the store was closed.
Hardiman pointed to the times painted in white on the window. “Looks like we need to wait a while.”
From behind them, someone yelled “Hey! Congratulations!” A woman leaned across the front seat of her car, waving at them out of the window. “Where’s your husband!”
Naya and Hardiman approached the car. “Excuse me?” Naya said.
The woman looked straight at her and said, “Your husband. I’ve never seen such a happy man in my life.”
The words weren’t penetrating Naya’s brain. She didn’t have a husband. Did she?
Hardiman whipped out his badge and showed it to the woman. “Can you explain what you mean?”
The woman’s smile fell. “I helped out at her wedding last night.”
Hardiman stiffened. “Where?”
The woman waved toward the flashy chapel of love. “Over there. I know it was her. I never forget a face.”
He was already focused on the building across the street. “I’m sure you don’t. Thank you for your help, ma’am.”
Why couldn’t he ever be polite like that to her?
As the car pulled away, Hardiman grabbed Naya’s elbow and steered her toward the corner.
“I can walk, you know.”
“You got married?” His voice sounded rumbly. “What the hell have you done, Krena?” His hand squeezed.
She jerked away from him. “You’re hurting me. Besides, I’m as confused as you. I’m not even dating anyone. And I hate the idea of a quickie marriage officiated by an Elvis impersonator. I can’t think of anything more sacrilegious. This has got to be some kind of mistake.”
He continued across the street, not looking to see if she followed. “Sacrilegious? What do you know about sacrilege?”
“It’s not only for Christians, that’s what I know. I’m a naiad, Hardiman. We follow a different religion but that doesn’t mean it’s any less valid than yours.” They reached the sidewalk in front of the chapel. Naya was pleased to see that the chapel was open. She didn’t want to have to wait to find out what kind of nonsense this was.