Chapter Eighteen-Bobby's Proposal

It was later that day and Mary was pulling her car into the grocery store parking lot. After giving Mary the grand tour of his one bedroom, seven hundred square foot palace, a quick glace into Bobby's freezer, refrigerator, and cabinets determined an immediate shopping trip was in order. As much as Bobby loved to cook, he didn't keep much food in the house since overtime, stake outs, undercover work, and days of simply not being home didn't make having a stock pile necessary or even cost effective. Mary didn't mind eating out on occassion, but didn't like making it a habit since she liked having control over who made her food, how it was made, as well as control over ingredients and quantity of ingredients.

Bobby stepped out of the car and watched as Mary reached over and pulled a package of wipes out of the glove compartment and wiped the interior of the car from top to bottom. When she finished, she closed the package and placed it back in the compartment and reached in the back for a hand held vaccum and proceeded to vaccum the vehicle as well. Bobby noticed she used hand sanitizer in between both tasks and again once she was finished vaccuming. When she deemed the car satisfactory, she placed the vaccum underneath the passenger seat and shut her door. After pressing the lock button multiple times, she and Bobby walked towards the entrance of the store.

They approached the grocery carts and Bobby reached for a shopping cart, which Mary immediately rejected.

"The wheels stick and make a strange noise," she said, frowning thoughtfully.

"The shopping cart is fine, Mary," Bobby said.

"No it isn't," Mary replied, pushing it to the side as she inspected and tested multiple options. "Why is it I can never find a decent shopping cart?" she moaned. "they are all the same-the wheels stick, they squeak, and they are disgusting. Do you know how many germs are in a shopping cart?"

"According to a four year study conducted by the University of Arizona's Environmental Research Lab and sponsored by Clorox, grocery carts rank third on the list of nastiest public items to touch, with only playground equipment and the armrests on public transportation ranking higher on the list," Bobby replied, not missing a beat as he took some wipes from a nearby dispenser and thoroughly cleaned the cart.

"Yes, I read that study. Grocery carts are veritable petri dishes teeming with human saliva, mucus, urine, fecal matter, as well as the blood and juices from raw meat. I can understand mucus and even saliva, but why in the world would anyone deficate in or on a shopping cart?" Mary's jaw tensed and a look of revulsion settled on her face.

"I'm assuming the fecal matter is most likely from an overly full diaper," Bobby replied, pushing the cart into the store. He watched as Mary wiped down another cart and quickly joined him.

"The great master profiling is relying on assumptions like mere mortals?" Mary asked, feigning shock. "I thought you knew everything."

"I just prefer not to think of human waste while I am shopping for food."

"Fair enough."

Bobby and Mary headed to produce, but before Bobby could place anything in the cart, Mary opened her purse and pulled out two folded blue tarps. He watched as she placed them in each cart and folded the edges over the sides and the front. She also took two pieces of black cloth and folded them over the handle. Once Mary finished, she proceeded to place bagged salad into her cart.

"I find it interesting that you are so concerned about cleanliness that you have wrapped our carts in a tarp, yet you eat bagged salad. Didn't you read the report Consumer Reports published in March 2010 on this very subject?"

"Yes I did and I am aware that unacceptable levels of coliforms and enterococcus bacteria were discovered in all brands. That is why I never buy salad close to the experation date and make sure it is clean before eating. I know unpackaged salad is a better alternative, but pre-packaged is so much more conventient."

Bobby simply nodded and found himself relieved when they were able to move on from the produce department. As they walked towards the bakery, he looked over and saw her eating seedless green grapes right out of the bag. Considering her level of OCD, he was a little surprised she would eat any type of fresh food before scrubbing it within an inch of its life.

"You look surprised," Mary replied before popping another plump grape into her mouth.

"I have to say I am and that doesn't happen everyday," Bobby replied. "are you sure you don't want to scrub them with Clorox before rinsing them off with bleach water?"

"Even *I'm* not that OCD," Mary said with a laugh. "strange as it sounds, as particular as I am about some things, others don't bother me as much. I will wash produce before consumption if I have the time and patience, but I have to confess I am just as happy to eat it as is. As long as it looks fresh and clean I am happy. Besides, water automatically mists unpackaged produce anyway, so that's good enough."

Bobby simply shook his head and walked through the store, placing desired items into the cart. "What are your favorite foods?" he asked.

"Well, I obviously have a weakness for unwashed grapes," Mary said, holding up the slightly less full bag before setting it back down. "it really depends on my mood, but I do have a weakness for Mexican and Italian cruisine. I think I would be perfectly happy living off of nothing else but spaghetti and fajitas."

"And Nutella," Bobby interjected. "I know that isn't Mexican or Italian, but I've noticed you like to eat a lot of it."

"Diana jokes I should be their spokesperson," Mary replied. "in addition to pasta and fajitas, I'm also fond of Chinese. Almond chicken and pepper steak are my staples."

"For a self professed germaphobe who lives with professional cooks, you sure do enjoy take out."

"If I could figure out how to make almond chicken at home I don't think I would eat out ever again."

"I'm sure you would at least go to the diner with your friends. You value the social interaction too much to give that up."

"Fifth Avenue Diner does have good food," Mary admitted. "and they are very clean for a public place. What do you like to eat?"

"I'm not picky-after years of working late I learned to eat whatever was available-which probably wasn't such a great decision long term," Bobby said, resting his hands on his stomach.

"I think you look fine," Mary said quickly. Bobby raised his eyebrows and Mary's face turned bright red. "I...what I mean is, you're a bigger-taller-man and with your bone structure, so you can pull off additional pounds better than a man of a smaller status..." her face turned even redder as soon as she uttered "additional pounds" so she prattled on. "when I say additional pounds, what I mean is..."

"I know what you mean, Mary," Bobby said, holding up a hand as a chuckle escaped his lips. He decided to throw Mary a lifeline and change the subject. "would you like to have pasta for dinner tonight?"

"Pasta sounds great," Mary said, the redness starting to disappear. She reached towards the shelf to grab a can of sauce as well as soon noodles, but Bobby reached out and lowered her hand.

"I was thinking we could make it from scratch. I know that takes longer, but it's worth the wait and we can talk until the food is ready."

"What is it you want to talk about?" Mary asked.

"Your case." They stopped walking and Mary looked up at Bobby. "Carver seems to think his case against Alden is tenuous at best, but I don't think it's as hopeless as it seems. The first thing we need to do is locate the locksmith he used. When Alden first entered your apartment he said you had Stacee to thank for his appearance."

"Yes, but then her said he used a locksmith to make a key based off of the door, not an actual key. He only made that statement about Stacee to confuse and distract me. He couldn't have used Stacee's key because she didn't have one. She didn't have a key to my apartment until very recently and that was at my behest. I was trying to prevent something like this from happening."

"Is there any way Stacee could've gotten a hold of one of your keys and perhaps made a copy?" Bobby asked.

"Absolutely not," Mary said firmly. "she and I just started talking again in June, when she left Mike and needed a place to stay. Before the night of our reconciliation we hadn't spoken since Thanksgiving and she hadn't been to the apartment in over a year. She was very co-dependent with Mike and couldn't accept the fact he wasn't welcome in my home, so she chose to side with him."

"You are absolutely sure Stacee didn't have a key? Is there any way Beth or Terra would have given her a copy?"

"The girls know my feelings regarding Mike," Mary said. "there is no way they would compromise our safety by giving that cretin an opportunity to enter our home. Even if for some reason they wanted to give Stacee a key they couldn't because our building has a strict policy regarding keys. Only management is allowed to hand out keys and they go through their own company. Keys are only given to residents and keys, as well as locks, are changed several times a year for safety reasons. Residents are only allowed one key at a time and if a key is lost, they need to fill out paperwork requesting a copy and the locks to their home are immediately changed."

"Prior to your attack, when was the last time your locks were changed and you were given a new key?"

"The first of the year. How hard will it be to find the locksmith Mike used? Mike is a dolt, but I'm certain even he has enough functioning brain cells to not have left a paper trail."

"Finding the locksmith will be a challenge, but not entirely impossible," Bobby assured her. "let's finish up here and get back home so we can plan our strategy."

"'We'?" Mary asked, eyebrow raised. "I didn't know detectives worked with civilians."

"Civilians can be quite instrumental in the solving of cases. Besides, being actively involved will help you regain your sense of control. I know Mike's attack left you reeling, so helping to put him behind bars will help you reclaim your life."

"I certainly can't do worse than Carver. Sometimes I think he doesn't want to bring Mike to justice. It's...it's almost as if he thinks I got what I deserved."

"Carver doesn't think that and neither does anyone else," Bobby said firmly. "I understand your frustration, your anger, how it seems as if no one cares. I know your case seems to be dragging, but we will get this resolved. I just need you to trust me."

"I do trust you," Mary said quickly, before she had a chance to consider her answer. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she was surprised, but didn't regret what she said. Bobby raised his eyebrows, so she felt compelled to continue speaking. "I...in general I only trust my family, but I...there's something about you. I haven't known you very long. but you appear to be very honest and honorable. I don't know, maybe it's the uniform, but...I do believe you will do whatever you can to help me. You have already done so much for me."

"I'm just doing my job, Mary. Let's finish up here so we can go home and plan our next move."

"Alright," Mary agreed.

Bobby and Mary walked through the store, adding more items to their cart before going to check out. At Mary's insistence and Bobby's chagrin, she paid for the groceries and they left the store. After loading the groceries into the car, they headed back to Bobby's house, both lost in silent thought.