Meant to Marry Me

Trent had put off going to the police station for a few days while he was waiting for Bree to come out of her coma. When the officer he'd been in contact with, a sympathetic man a few years older than him named Det. Jessie Duke, had called him earlier that morning and said they needed him to identify the woman he'd seen in the hallway so that they'd have more evidence to keep her locked up for the time being, he'd had no choice.

Now, he was sitting in a chair next to Det. Duke's desk, waiting for him to come back and get him for the lineup. He checked the time on the clock behind him, again, and then his phone to see if he'd missed any calls or texts from her parents. There was nothing at the moment, so he stuck his phone back into his pocket and ran his hands down his face, realizing he hadn't shaved that day when his fingers dragged against bristles.

He'd only been there for a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. Swiveling in his chair, he looked around for Det. Duke but couldn't see the man anywhere. His eyes blurred slightly. It had been several nights since he'd gotten any semblance of a good night's rest. From the fire to the hospital, there was just no getting any rest these days, and he didn't think he'd go to sleep again until after he knew for sure Bree was going to be okay.

A few minutes later, he spotted Det. Duke coming across the room. "Sorry for the wait," he said. "We've got the lineup set, though, if you're ready."

"Sure," Trent said, pushing up out of his chair and following the detective across the office space toward a hallway at the back of the room. Duke used his badge to access the location. They walked down the hall, past a few doors, and then the officer paused, stroking his jaw.

"In a second, we'll go in. They won't be able to see you because we'll be behind a window that looks like a mirror to the suspects. You can take your time, look at all of them, and then, let us know if any of the women in the lineup look like the woman you saw fleeing the hospital."

"Okay," Trent said. "But what if I recognize one of them because she used to be in Bree's band?"

"If it turns out that that is the woman we also caught fleeing the hospital, then there's a good chance she's the one that is responsible for what happened to Bree, especially if she is also the one who was arrested a few days ago for setting a hotel on fire and cutting the power to a nightclub."

Trent nodded, happy with the explanation. He just wanted to make sure that the officer was straight he didn't get a clear look at Cat when she was fleeing the scene at the hospital. She'd had her back to him, and all he'd seen was her hair and her costume. But he was certain, when he looked through the window, he'd see Cat standing there because he already knew she'd been arrested on these charges.

Det. Duke patted him on the shoulder in a reassuring manner and then used his badge to open the door. Trent walked in. There was a wide window in front of him. An officer seated at a table behind the window pressed a button on a microphone. "Lead them in, please," he said and then let the button go.

A few seconds later, another door on the right side of the room Trent was staring at through the window opened, and a line of women walked through. Some of them appeared nervous. Others looked bored. He only spent a second looking at the other faces because, as the women fell into line, he saw Cat's face and knew for sure that he didn't need to look at anyone else.

The fact that she was here meant that she'd done it. Her hair looked the same now as it had when he'd seen her back hurrying down the hallway away from Bree's room, and even though all six of the women before him were wearing the same orange jumpsuits, so there was no nurse's costume to give her away, he knew it was her.

Trent folded his arms, staring at Cat through the glass, wishing she could feel his eyes penetrating into her skull, wishing she could feel the hate rolling off of him.

Looking into her eyes, he could see that she was frightened, that she probably hadn't realized the enormity of what she was doing until it was too late. Either that or the woman was just crazy and hadn't stopped to think about what she was doing. At all.

Once the women were all in line, the officer behind the microphone told them to all turn to the right and then to the left, which they did. Trent didn't need any of that, though. He knew for certain. "Number three," he said, folding his arms. With his heavy hand on Trent's shoulder, Det. Duke asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

The detective nodded. "Thanks, Ralph," he said to the officer by the microphone, clapping him on the shoulders as he led Trent out of the small room and then back down the hallway.

Over his shoulder, Det. Duke said, "I just need you to come and sign a few docs really quickly, and then you'll be on your way."

"Okay," Trent said, glad it had been so easy and that it was over.

Det. Duke opened the door that led back to the area where his desk was housed, and Trent followed as he threaded his way between other desks.

Once they reached Det. Duke's space, he gestured for Trent to resume his seat from earlier. Trent sank into the chair. As the detective pulled out some paperwork and started to fill it out, Trent realized his phone was ringing.

He hastily pulled it out of his pocket. He saw that it was Bree's dad, Paul. Without a word to the detective to excuse himself, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Trent. It's Paul. Bree's awake. She's feeling okay. Just asking about you."

A long sigh came out of his mouth as he let the reality sink in. She was awake, and she was all right. "Good. Good. I'm almost done here, and then I'll be back at the hospital. She's okay?"

"Yeah. I think she's still a little woozy from the medication, but she's fine."

"All right. Thanks for letting me know."

"Sure."

Trent hung up and returned his attention to the detective.

"So glad she's doing all right," Det. Duke said with a sympathetic smile. "Now, if you'll just sign these documents that say you identified suspect number three as the woman you saw in the hospital, you'll be on your way."

Trent scanned the documents he was signing quickly to make sure everything was in order and then signed and printed his name on the appropriate lines. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Nope. That'll do it for now. You may be called upon to answer some questions if this goes to trial, but I'm sure you already know that."

Of course Trent knew he may have to testify. He was looking forward to it. He was looking forward to putting Cat in prison for the rest of her life.

He kept all of that to himself, though. With a nod, Trent stood, as did the detective. He extended his hand, and Trent shook it. Then, he hurried out the door of the police station, ready to get back to the hospital to see that Bree was okay with his own eyes.