Before He Lapses. Блейк Пирс
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was really only a change of setting that had done it, but sex in the Icelandic wilderness, right under the majestic swirl of the northern lights, was phenomenal. On the first night, when she and Ellington had wrapped up their festivities, Mackenzie slept better than she had in a very long time. She fell asleep happy, physically satisfied, and with the sensation of life growing inside of her.
They woke up the following morning and had very bitter coffee over a small fire at their campsite. They were in the northeastern part of the country, camping about eight miles away from Lake Mývatn, and she felt like they were the only people on the face of the planet.
“What would you say about fish for breakfast?” Ellington asked her out of the blue.
“I think I’m okay with the oatmeal and coffee,” she said.
“The lake is only eight miles away. I can pluck a few fish out and have ourselves a real camping meal.”
“You fish?” she asked, surprised.
“I used to do it a lot,” he said. He got a faraway look in his eyes, one that she had long since learned meant that whatever he was talking about was a part of his past and likely tied to his first marriage.
“This I have to see,” she said.
“Do I hear skepticism in your voice?”
She didn’t say another word as she got to her feet and headed over to their rented four-by-four. “Fish sounds great,” she said.
They piled into the four-by-four and made their way to the lake. Mackenzie enjoyed the open lands and the fjords, the countryside looking at times like something out of a fairytale. It was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle she was growing accustomed to in DC. She looked over to Ellington as he drove them toward Lake Mývatn. He looked ruggedly handsome, his hair still slightly tousled from a night in the tent. And while they had plans to check into a small motel for the night, mainly just to get showers before returning to camp, she had to admit that there was something alluring about seeing him a little grimy, a little rough around the edges. Seeing him like this somehow made it much easier to fathom the idea of spending the rest of her life with him.
They were at the lake twenty minutes later, Ellington sitting on a rickety old dock with a rented fishing pole in his hands. Mackenzie only watched him, the two of them sharing nothing more than small talk. She was enjoying the moment of seeing him doing something that she had not even thought he would enjoy. It only clued her in to the fact that there was so much more about him that she had to learn—a sobering thought while looking at the man she had married only two days ago.
When he brought in his first fish, she was very surprised. And by the time he had three on the dock, tossed in a small bucket, she was equally surprised in herself and the fact that she was rather attracted to this side of him. She wondered what other outdoorsy-type activities Ellington was good at that he had been hiding from her.
They rode back to the campsite, the Jeep smelling of the three fish that would be their breakfast. Back at the site, she saw that his fishing expertise stopped at taking them out of the water. He was a little clumsy in scaling and gutting them; although they did end up having some delicious fish over a campfire, it was in ragged, small morsels.
They made plans for the day, plans that included horseback riding, a waterfall tour, and a journey to the small motel outside of Reykjavík to shower and get a proper meal before driving back out through the gorgeous countryside to the campground as night fell. And after eating their breakfast of fresh fish, they carried that plan out step by step.
It was all very dreamlike and, at the same time, a very vivid way to start their life together. There were moments, holding him or kissing him amidst this incredible scenery, that she knew she would remember all throughout her life, perhaps down to her final breaths. She had never felt more content in her life.
They returned to their campsite, where they restoked the campfire. Then, freshly showered and with a good, full meal in their stomachs, they retired to the tent and made a very long night of it.
With just two days remaining in their honeymoon, they went on a private glacier tour along Iceland’s Golden Circle. It was the only day of the trip where Mackenzie had been stricken with morning sickness and, as a result, opted out of their chance to go glacier climbing. She watched as Ellington took part, though. She enjoyed watching him tackle the task like an overeager child. It was a side of him she had seen here and there, but never to this extent. It then dawned on her that this was the most time they had ever spent together outside of work. It had been like some sporadic paradise and had opened her eyes to just how much she loved him.
As Ellington and the instructor started their descent down the glacier, Mackenzie felt her cell phone vibrating in her coat pocket. They had turned all sound off as they had gotten on their plane to start the honeymoon but, given their careers, had not allowed themselves to kill the phones completely. To occupy herself while Ellington came down from the glacier, she pulled the phone out and checked it.
When she saw McGrath’s name on the display, her heart dropped. She’d been on an emotional high these last few days. Seeing his name made her believe that it was going to come to a pretty quick end.
“This is Agent White,” she said. She then thought: Damn…missed my first chance to refer to myself as Agent Ellington.
“It’s McGrath. How’s Iceland?”
“It’s nice,” she said. And then, not caring that she was being a little too vulnerable with him, corrected herself. “It’s amazing. Really beautiful.”
“Well, then, you’re going to hate me for calling, I’m sure.”
He then told her why he was calling, and he was right. When she ended the call, she was quite upset with him.
Her hunch had been correct. Just like that, their honeymoon was over.
CHAPTER FOUR
The transition had been easy enough. The hurrying and rushing for their flight and then having to catch a red-eye back to DC made the magic of their honeymoon slowly dissolve back into the boundaries of real life. Mackenzie was quite pleased to feel some of that magic still existing between them, primarily in realizing that even here, back in the States and surrounded by their jobs, they were still married. Iceland had been magical, sure, but it had not been the only thing bonding them over those few days.
What she had not been expecting was just how prominent her wedding ring felt on her finger as she and Ellington walked into McGrath’s office just fourteen hours after he had interrupted their honeymoon. She was not so naïve as to feel like it made her a new person, but she did see it as a sign that she had changed—that she was capable of growing. And if that was true in her personal life, then why not her professional life?
Maybe it will start once you tell your superior that you’re currently fifteen weeks pregnant, she thought.
With that thought lodged in her head, she also realized that the case they had been called in for would likely be the last one before she had to come clean about her pregnancy—though the thought of trying to track down murderers with a baby belly did make her grin.
“I appreciate you two coming in early on this,” McGrath said. “And I also want to congratulate you on your marriage. Of course, I don’t like the idea of a married couple working together. But I want this one wrapped up very quickly, as there could be the potential for mass panic on a college campus if we don’t get it wrapped very soon. And you two undeniably work well together, so here we are.”
Ellington looked over at her and smiled at the last comment. Mackenzie was nearly disarmed at how strongly she felt for him. It was a beautiful thing but also made her a bit uncomfortable as well.
“The latest victim is a sophomore at Queen Nash University in Baltimore. Christine Lynch. She was killed in her kitchen very late at night. Her shirt had been removed and was found on the floor. She was very obviously strangled. From what I understand, there were no prints on her neck, indicating the killer was wearing gloves.”
“So the murder was premeditated and not situational,”