Read Before he Kills (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1) for Free Online Page B

relationship had been based on monotony
and Zack’s fear of being alone and getting married. If he could stay somewhere
in between those, with Mackenzie as his buffer, he’d be happy.
    Yet as she picked up two dirty plates
from the coffee table and stepped over an Xbox disc on the floor, Mackenzie
wondered if maybe she was done being a buffer. More than that, she wasn’t even
sure she’d marry Zack if he asked her tomorrow. She knew him too well; she had
seen a picture of what being married to him would be like and, quite frankly,
it wasn’t too promising.
    She was stuck in a dead-end
relationship, with a partner who didn’t appreciate her. In the same way, she
realized, she was stuck in a job with colleagues who didn’t appreciate her. Her
entire life felt stuck. She knew changes needed to be made, but they felt too
daunting to her. And given her level of exhaustion, she just didn’t have the energy.
    Mackenzie retired to the bathroom and
cut off the water. Waves of steam rolled from the top of the water, as though
inviting her in. She undressed, looking at herself in the mirror and becoming
even more aware that she had wasted eight years of her life with a man who had
no real desire to commit his life to her. She felt that she was attractive in a
simple sort of way. Her face was pretty (maybe a bit more so when she wore her
hair in a ponytail) and she had a solid figure, if a bit thin and muscular. Her
stomach was flat and hard—so much so that Zack sometimes joked that her abs
were a bit intimidating.
    She slipped into the tub, the beer
resting on the small towel table beside her. She let out a deep exhale and let
the hot water do its work. She closed her eyes and relaxed as best as she
could, but the image of Kevin Lizbrook’s eyes returned to her on a constant
loop. The amount of sadness in them had been almost unbearable, speaking of a
pain that Mackenzie herself had once known but had managed to push far back
into her heart.
     She closed her eyes and dozed, the
image haunting her the entire time. She felt a palpable presence, as if Hailey
Lizbrook were in the room with her now, urging her to solve her murder.
     
    *
     
    Zack came home an hour later, fresh off
a twelve-hour shift at a local textile plant. Every time Mackenzie smelled the
scents of dirt, sweat, and grease on him, it reminded her of how little
ambition Zack had. Mackenzie had no issue with the job in and of itself; it was
a respectable job made for men that were built for hard work and dedication.
But Zack had a bachelor’s degree that he had intended to use to land a spot in
a master’s program to become a teacher. That plan had ended five years ago and
he had been stuck in the role of shift manager at the textile plant ever since.
    Mackenzie was on her second beer by the
time he came in, sitting in bed and reading a book. She figured she’d try to
fall asleep around three or so, getting a solid five hours before heading in to
work at nine the next morning. She’d never cared much for sleep and had
discovered that on nights she got more than six hours, she found herself
lethargic and out of sorts the next day.
    Zack came into the room in his dingy
work clothes. He kicked his shoes off by the side of the bed as he looked her
over. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of high-riding bicycle shorts.
    “Hey, babe,” he said, his eyes taking
her all in. “So, this is nice to come home to.”
    “How was your day?” she asked, barely
looking up from her book.
    “It was okay,” he said. “Then I came
home and saw you like this and it got a lot better.” With that, he
crawled onto the bed and directly toward her. His hand went to the side of her
face as he angled in for a kiss.
    She dropped her book and pulled away at
once. “Zack, have you lost your mind?” she asked.
    “What?” he said, clearly confused.
    “You’re absolutely filthy. And not only
have I taken a bath, but you’re getting dirt and grease and God only knows