Extracurricular Activities - By Maggie Barbieri Page 0,2

on her and I think that left Ray on shaky ground. Without his charm and good looks to fall back on, Ray is basically an empty husk.

He looked surprised. “That’s something I never thought I’d hear.” He studied the top of the table. “Is she happy?”

I laughed. “Well, sure. Most people who are about to get married are happy.” Even us, I thought.

The water had begun to boil so I set about making a couple of cups of tea.

“I heard you’re on the diversity council for the English Department,” he said.

I took an old lemon from a basket of fruit on the counter and examined it to find a piece that we could use in our tea. “Guilty as charged. If you find me dead in my office, Sister Calista did it.”

He looked confused but he didn’t ask what I meant. I could tell that he was troubled by something. I handed him his cup of tea and sat down. “What’s going on, Ray?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure,” he said, taking a tissue from his pocket and blowing his nose. “Have you ever felt like things are falling apart?”

I resisted the urge to laugh. Have I ever felt like that? Only most of the last two years that we spent together as a married couple. I kept the sarcasm in check, though; the Ray sitting in front of me was obviously in pain and I didn’t want to rub salt in the wounds. I went with a vague nod.

He chuckled but he clearly wasn’t amused. “I really screwed things up, Alison.”

I nodded again. “Yes, you did.”

“And now, in addition to dealing with that fact, I feel like I’m being followed. Or watched.”

“Who would be watching you?”

He rolled his eyes; the list of suspects was lengthier than I think we both cared to admit. “Well, let’s see. There’s the Mob-boss father of my last girlfriend, the husband of the woman I was seeing before that…shall I continue?”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to. I get it.” I took a sip of tea. “Do you think you’re in danger?”

“I don’t know. But the whole thing is unsettling. I feel like someone’s been in my apartment, too. Nothing’s missing but I’ve just got this feeling…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“I think we’re all unsettled, Ray. Being involved in that murder investigation shook me up, too. And you were a suspect,” I said. He shot me a look; obviously he didn’t want to be reminded that he had been the main suspect in his girlfriend’s murder. “Well, you were. I could see why you would be nervous after what you’ve been through.”

He decided not to address that line of reasoning. He wrapped his hands around the mug. “Are you still dating that police detective?” he asked.

Well, there was a question with a complicated answer. The detective, Crawford, was a man whom I had met in the course of the murder investigation a few months earlier. And despite the fact that I thought I would never, under any circumstances, find another man attractive or worthy of my time, I had fallen for this guy so hard it had made my head spin. And although we were in the midst of a murder investigation in which I played a major role, we had commenced on a bit of a romantic journey, one that had been cut short by my discovery of the lovely Mrs. Crawford, his estranged, but very much legally married, spouse. Mrs. Crawford, who apparently was also a stickler for Church law; she refused to divorce Crawford until he agreed to an annulment, a bureaucratic “get out of jail free” card for divorcing Catholics. “No, I’m not really dating Crawford anymore,” I said as cryptically as I could. I was hoping we could leave it at that.

He studied my face and I guess he saw that this was not a topic we should discuss at any length. “Do you think if I spoke to him about this he would help me? I do live in his precinct.”

“If he can’t help you, Ray, I’m sure he could put you in contact with the person who could.” I took a sip of the tea. “Give him a call at the precinct.”

“I’ll do that.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking tea. My mind kept returning to the contents of my freezer and I sneaked a glance at my watch to see what time it was. It really didn’t matter what the