I fled from the office to the staff toilets, tears overflowing. Was Alex saying that he didn't want to get married anymore?

Was I being too pushy about the planning?

I pressed my forehead against the tiled wall and sighed as a headache started to build. We'd been rushed into this -- forced into this -- and now Alex was probably thinking that while the sex was good, he hadn't even known me for a year. So he definitely didn't want to sign up for forever.

I left the toilets twenty minutes later, certain that he would have gone home. When I reached my office and saw Dixon and Sebastian talking a little further up the corridor, I suddenly realised that I should have checked my tearful reflection. They broke off their conversation and came towards me immediately, and by the time I'd ducked into the cube for my bag and re-emerged, they were waiting.

Sebastian was frowning. "Amber, what's wrong?"

I shook my head and sidled past, tears threatening to rise again. He reached out for me, but I jerked away.

"Amber," Dixon warned.

I strode clear of them, out the maze of cubes, through the station door, running to the top of the road. I slowed to a walk when I hit the high street. Another tear slithered down my cheek, and I swiped it away.

My tabphone buzzed. Dixon was calling. I didn't answer. I knew that ignoring my governor was playing with fire, but I didn't care.

I kept my tabphone cradled in my hands as I walked, watching Dixon's name flash up over and over again. I couldn't decide whether he was growing more concerned or more pissed off. At last, when I turned onto my road, I shoved it back in my pocket. My fingers were turning numb now, so I buried them deep. They brushed against cardboard.

My stride faltered. I pulled my hand back out and looked at what I was holding.

It was a cream business card with Lavender Jones, Wedding Planner embossed on it. Roses grew around her name. I smoothed my fingertips over them, quite certain that I'd never picked the card up. Where had it come from?

"You found her?" I asked outside Jade's Cakes.

"Yes." Lavender touched my shoulder. "It was awful, Inspector."

What had she been doing with her other hand -- slipping the card in my pocket? I flipped it over and scrutinised the blank side as if it held the answer. That had been sly.

When I reached the entrance to my block, I tucked it back into my pocket. I wouldn't even have to wish for a wedding planner if Alex told me that he wanted to call the whole thing off. Although when prison was the other option, that was hardly likely.

But if the wedding meant nothing to him, did he still love me?

He was waiting just inside our front door, leaning against the wall. His shoulders were slumped, but he straightened up when I came in. "Amber, I'm sorry. Please -- don't go."

I realised that I was hesitating on the threshold, and I wondered if I should ignore him and turn around. Find somewhere loud to drown out my thoughts. Pretend that this day had never happened.

That would only prolong the inevitable, so I shut the door and folded my arms over my chest.

He rubbed his forehead. "I didn't mean what I said in our office to come out like that. I'm angry for you, not with you. And it's not that I don't think the wedding matters -- I just wish it didn't."

I raised my eyebrows.

"I mean -- I do want it to matter, but..." He heaved a sigh. "Hell, Amber, I'm in love with you. The rest of it is peripheral to me."

I should have been relieved, but I wasn't. There was something very anxious in his eyes.

He came closer. When I didn't move, he took my hands. "I just want to love you and be with you for life, and sometimes I don't want to follow the traditional route. The wedding planning tires you out, and I don't want you to feel spread thin when we're investigating the murders of three people, too."

"Justice," I whispered. "You don't want me to make a mistake."

He hesitated. "Yes, that matters to me. But my concern for you matters more. That's what I'm trying to talk about."

"I'm fine." I smiled flatly. "This is just what weddings are like. Organising so much is stressful, but we'll enjoy it on the big day." It sounded like a plea even to my ears. Will we enjoy our big day, Alex?

"Yes, I am looking forward to that." He tightened his grip on my hands. "I am looking forward to marrying you. It's just... Will you come and sit down with me for a minute?"

Oh, shit. My heart tumbled into my boots as I followed him into the living room and we sat down together.

He looked into my eyes with more uncertainty than I'd ever seen him bear. "Do you remember our first investigation?"

"Of course." How could I ever forget it? Chemistry had simmered between us from the moment we'd met, and we'd spent the inquiry not knowing whether to fight it or give in. Alex had awoken something deep inside me that was more than sexual attraction. It was friendship; it was care; it was love. It was everything.

"Do you remember that song?"

"First comes murder, then comes marriage..."

"No, the real version." Amusement flickered in his gaze, then died again. "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage."

I tensed.

"We've never talked about having children," he said. "Everything happened so quickly...it always felt too late. After all, we're legally required to marry. Even if we don't agree on important things. Like children."

I stared at him.

"I know that it might have been a deal-breaker in different circumstances," he continued, "even though I love you. But I don't want children. I'm sorry." He took my hands again. "Say something, please. I'm not scared, I'm just not inclined to be a father... What is it?"

I was smiling.

"That's it?" My voice sounded strange. "That's what's really been between us? Fear of how the hell we're going to cope with starting a family?"

"Yes." His face began to clear. "Hang on, you mean...?"

I nodded. "I don't want children -- I just know that I don't. We are a family the way we are: me, you, Mitzy, and our work. And I like it like that."

"I was convinced you wouldn't. You may have this tough exterior, Amber Rames, but it's very easy to melt it."

"I deal with adults, that's why. I can be a sister, and a friend, and a girlfriend -- and a wife. But I can't see myself as a parent. I know it's a learning curve for everyone, but children just aren't right for some people. And I know that they're not right for me."

"I've been such an idiot." Alex drew me against him. "I wish we'd sat down and talked about it sooner. If I'd known you felt like that, I wouldn't have been so..."

"Grumpy?" I teased.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. What's done is done." I wrapped my arms around him. "It's all worth it to know that you do really want to marry me."

"Of course I do. I would have wanted to even if we weren't legally bound. Maybe we would have taken things slower, but only because you're so special that I would have been almost afraid to ask you." He slid his hand under my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. "I would have asked, though. And I would have wanted you to say yes more than anything in the world. I want you to be my wife, Amber."

He pressed his lips against mine softly, asking me to understand him. I was malleable beneath them, tasting the coffee and the sorrow and the love.

"I have to make this up to you," he whispered. He took my hand and kissed the sticking plaster spread across my palm, then lowered his lips to my neck, pushing me back against the sofa, slipping my jacket from my shoulders. "Let me show you how much I love you..."

***

When I woke up in Alex's arms the next morning, I could still feel everywhere he'd been imprinted against me. But it only took me a second to remember that it was Monday, and Monday meant it was the week of our wedding. Even though I was confident that Alex was with me all the way now, I still felt a shiver of nerves.

The alarm on my tabphone sounded, and I rolled away from my sergeant to turn it off. It was a somewhat unsuccessful manoeuvre. His arms fell away for a second, then came back as he sat up with me. He trailed kisses down my neck.

I smiled. "Morning."

"Morning." His voice was husky. "What the...?"

Something was wriggling down by our feet, underneath the duvet. It crawled all the way up to our end of the bed, and Mitzy's head popped out beside Alex. She meowed, scrambled free, and slunk off to the kitchen.

I stood up with a laugh. "Someone's hungry."

"Make that two someones." Alex sent me a hopeful grin before he went into the bathroom.

I rolled my eyes and started my routine: clothes, kitchen, find cat food. Start making toast. It was so mundane, but I hummed my favourite song and smiled to myself as I worked. Mundane was nice. Mundane was exciting. On Saturday, I was going to marry Alex, and we'd carry on rolling out of bed and being mundane together each morning for the rest of our lives.

My tabphone buzzed while I was buttering the toast, and I fumbled to pull it out of my pocket without making the screen greasy. "Oh, the florist at last."

Alex strolled into the kitchen and took it out of my hands. I caught a whiff of his lemon aftershave as he leaned in close and noticed that he hadn't done all his shirt buttons up. Then the lovely sight and smell left as he walked away to answer the call.

I carried on buttering the toast, half listening to his end of the conversation and half distracted by the rock song that I'd managed to get stuck in my head. When he'd ended the call, he slid my tabphone into my jeans pocket from behind. "She's got those roses for us."

"Oh, good. I couldn't have coped with peonies." I tossed the butter knife in the sink and turned around.

"Speaking of the wedding plans..." He stroked his hands down my arms to my hips. "Are you going to tell me anything about your dress?"

"No."

He kissed me fleetingly. When he pulled away, he was wearing a mischievous grin. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him again, but he held me back. "You have to tell me something about the dress."

"Fine. It's white."

"Traditional." He brought his mouth infuriatingly close. "Anything else?"

"Hmm..." I brushed my lips against his, and his eyes closed, resolve breaking. Grinning, I dropped back down. "Nope. Two can play at your game."

He opened his eyes and reached for me, but I picked up a plate of toast and put it in his hand. "Anyway, I thought you said you were hungry?"

***

Dixon was waiting in our office.

I saw him through the glass, leaning on Alex's desk and facing the door so that he wouldn't miss us coming. He caught my eye.

My stride faltered. "Oh, shit. I might be in trouble."

Alex linked our fingers together and shot me a questioning look.

I shrugged and pushed the door open, trying to plaster on a smile. "Good morning, sir."

Dixon raised both eyebrows. "Good morning."

"I'm sorry about yesterday." I glanced at Alex. "We had a misunderstanding. Wedding stress, sir."

He looked between us slowly. Then his gaze dipped to our hands. "Sorted now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He straightened up. "Talk to me about the progress you're making with the investigation, then."

Fuck. That was another conversation I didn't really want to have with him. I cleared my throat, dumped my bag, and woke up the rear touchglass wall. "You know that we have Ethan Sharpe in custody, sir. He's currently charged with affray, but he doesn't have an alibi for Jade Beaumont's murder either. He claims that he went for a walk."

I pulled up everyone's pictures and grouped them together on the screen. At least, I attempted to: they flew to opposite sides. Alex smothered a laugh and came to help, so I focused on finding the condensed notes I'd made instead. Dixon came over to read them.

VICTIMS:

Iberia Mills (Friday morning), Jade Beaumont (Saturday night/Sunday morning). Ruby Beaumont -- mistaken identity? (Friday morning.)

PEOPLE OF INTEREST:

Ethan Sharpe. Groom. Violent streak. Street fight. Domestic abuse. Friday alibi: Danielle. Sunday alibi: walking around Socrico, alone.

Danielle Sharpe. Bridesmaid. Widow of Thomas Core. Domestic abuse victim. Friday alibi: Ethan. Sunday alibi: with son, Benjamin.

Levi Ford. Best man. Grudge against Iberia. Affections for Jade. Violent streak. Street fight. Friday alibi: at home, alone. Sunday alibi: at home, alone.

William Sharpe. Father of groom. Disliked Iberia and Jade. Friday alibi: Brittany. Sunday alibi: walking around Socrico, alone.

Brittany Sharpe. Mother of groom. In love with Iberia. Disliked Jade. Friday alibi: William. Sunday alibi: under surveillance, at home. Surveillance now cancelled.

"You found Ruby Beaumont," Dixon said thoughtfully.

"Yes, sir."

"Jade made the call about Iberia. And Lavender Jones made the call about Jade."

"Yes, sir."

"So where was Lavender at the time of the murders?"

I looked at Alex. His expression suggested he thought we might both be in trouble in a minute.

"We don't know, sir." I pulled my tabphone from my coat pocket, my fingers brushing against the mysterious business card. "We'll ask her now."

"Good." He moved towards the door, still looking stern. "Are you talking to Ethan again today?"

"Yes, sir. But I'd like to speak with his parents first and see if they can tell us anything else that might help us crack him."

"All right. You'll have to coordinate with the domestic abuse unit -- they also want a word with him." Dixon strode out the door.

Alex looked at me.

"Video call Brittany," I said.

I found Lavender's Xplora profile and tried calling her while Alex searched for Brittany's. I fingered the card in my pocket while I waited for Lavender to pick up. When she didn't, I tried again.

"Hello, Sergeant."

I glanced across the room. Alex had successfully video-called Brittany Sharpe, and now he was suspending his tabphone in the air above his desk. I put mine down and went to stand behind him. "Morning, Brittany."

"Good morning, Inspector." She smiled uncertainly from a silk-draped bed, a lit cigarette held between her knuckles. "What's this about?"

"We arrested your son for affray yesterday."

"What?" She froze. "Ethan?"

"Yes, ma'am. He was at a street fight on Saturday night."

"A street...? Are you sure? He wouldn't go to something like that. Ethan would never hurt anyone!"

"Levi Ford has the scars to prove he would," I said. "And so does Danielle."

"Danielle?" Her cigarette hand stilled.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Sharpe. It's come to light that Ethan has been abusing his sister."

Her mouth fell open in a perfect red circle. "No. How could you think that?"

"I know this is a shock." I softened my voice. "But we have reasonable suspicion to believe that --"

"What reasonable suspicion?"

"We've seen Danielle's scars."

Her eyes narrowed. "The cigarette burns on her wrists?"

"So you knew?"

"No! Inspector, listen to me. My daughter smokes when she's...upset. That's what she does to herself." Brittany mimed hesitantly. "She holds the cigarette against her skin."