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“Then you’ll need ammo.” “I already have it.” He smiles at me, pleased with this information. I knew from the very beginning I had to have an insurance policy with Sarah, something to guarantee she could never do to me what she did to her first husband, Adam. Right now, I’m glad I have it, but I still hope I don’t have to use it. There’s no going back if I do.
“Stevens, you really—” I start to say, but stop suddenly when my gaze lands on him. My eyes widen in disbelief, and my stomach plummets like I’m on a roller coaster, cresting over the peak of the first drop. “Medic. We need a medic!”
His body is lax, slumped forward, lifeless. A belt is looped around his neck, pulled taut, the other end tied to the top bunk. His eyes are wide open, the whites completely replaced with red as the blood vessels have burst under the strain and lack of oxygen. I just hope I’m not too late. “Hold on, man,”
Something inside of his chest cracks, but I keep going because I know broken ribs happen often during CPR. It’s as though God calls back to his original deal with Adam, removing a rib to create life again.
how is it justice when the evidence that could have set Adam free was buried? How is it justice when the person overseeing the investigation was engaged in an illicit affair with the victim? That’s not justice at all; that is corruption; that . . . is murder.”
She lost her husband before she lost her only son, so she’s been alone for a long time. Eleanor has spent many of her golden years grieving, and given her age, she may not have many more left, but I do empathize with her.”
I’m sure she’s blowing a gasket now. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and her heart will give out, and she’ll just drop dead. Then again, Eleanor never had a heart to begin with.
Sometimes we have to see ourselves as the person we want to be before we can become that person.”
I’m going to be under a microscope until this whole thing gets settled, and it’s the last thing I need. All eyes on me, the devastated widow. It’s not what I want right now, but I can play that part and I can play it well. Because I’ve done it before. It’s like I’m an actress reprising a role that fans just couldn’t get enough of.
“I was calling to inform you that your client Ryan Stevens attempted suicide a little over an hour ago. He’s currently in critical condition at UVA.” The elevator doors open, and I exit into a dimly lit back vestibule. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sheriff. Stevens is no longer my client, though, but I do appreciate the call,”
The doctors think Ryan will pull through. They said I got to him just in time. A minute later and he would have been dead. When he does wake up, I’m sure he’s gonna be just as pissed at me for saving his life as I am at him for ruining mine.
I just met with a woman named Deena Walsh. She came in to file a missing person’s report on her roommate, Stacy Howard. She hasn’t been seen or heard from in nearly three days.”
“Deena said she received a text from Stacy on Monday night around five p.m., saying she wouldn’t be home when Deena got off work, which would have been just after ten p.m., because she was planning to meet up with a guy she’d been seeing.” “Okay, and . . . ?” “The guy Stacy said she was going to meet is Bob Miller.”
It’s that necklace . . . the cold pendant brushing against my cheek. Her long, soft hair cascading all around my face as she rode me fast and hard. I quickly blink it away.
“I recognize her necklace,” I finally land on. It’s the truth. It’s what jogged my memory, and I’m not technically backtracking or changing my story with that answer. “From where?” Olson asks. I swallow hard as the memory of that night resurfaces. Her hot, sweaty skin pressed against mine. Her moans and cries as I thrust up into her.
“I had a one-night stand with this woman a few weeks back. Other than that, I don’t know her. It only happened once, and I was drunk. I barely remember it, and I don’t remember her. But . . . I do remember that necklace.”
Sarah. That evil, conniving, vengeful . . . This has her written all over it. My eyes flick to Hudson and then Olson and back again. How can they not see it? Her first husband, Adam, had an affair and his mistress was found murdered in cold blood. My one-night stand (because I wouldn’t constitute her as a mistress) is now missing. She’s screwing with me, has to be.
“You’re not fooling me. I know exactly who you are, Sarah, and I’m well aware of what you’re capable of.” “No, you aren’t, Bob. If you were . . . I think you’d be a little nicer to me.” He huffs and shakes his head. “So, what’s your plan then? Are you going to frame me for her disappearance? Is she already dead, and I’ve got a murder charge waiting in the wings? Or are you just screwing with me until I go through with the divorce? Which is it, Sarah?”
“For the longest time, I actually thought it was Sarah.” Pam gives me an amused look, waving a hand at me. “Why? Because it’s always the wife?” “No,” I say with a small but serious grin. “She had motive. The victim was sleeping with her husband after all. But Ryan ruled out opportunity.”
Loud, heavy footsteps stomp across the ceiling. They sound like work boots, the kind a man would wear at a construction site.
I’m not sure who’s doing this, but I can think of at least five people who have good reason to want to hurt me.
I don’t know anything about Stacy Howard—not a single detail. Well, actually, I know two things. One, she’s a thief. The morning after she and I had sex, I woke up to find she was already gone—along with my Rolex and all the cash in my wallet.
Most psychopaths can compartmentalize, and that’s exactly what Sarah is. It’s why she was able to stab Kelly thirty-seven times and then show up for work the next day like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She and I are alike in that sense.
Stacy’s name came up on the Morgan Foundation’s external payroll list. Still trying to figure out what exactly she was paid for as it’s listed as “contractor.” More to come.
Before I can think it through, I grab the ballpoint pen lying beside my phone and launch myself at her.
With the pen clenched in my hand, I raise it above my head and thrust it into her eye socket. Blood spurts out of the wound, spraying red onto my white button-up. I plunge the ballpoint into her face over and over again until she’s completely unrecognizable, just a mangled mess of skin, blood, cartilage, and exposed bone. I can’t help but laugh manically. Ding dong, the bitch is dead.
Sarah doesn’t know it yet, but she’s met her match.
I know exactly what you’re up to, Sarah, and you’re not going to get away with it. Stop all of this now or I will stop it . . . permanently.
“The fact that Sarah filed an appeal to reopen the case kind of makes me think she didn’t have anything to do with Kelly’s murder, because why file then?” “It’d look suspicious if she didn’t file, given the new information.”
“If we push hard enough, maybe the truth will come out.” “Maybe. But I only see that happening if there were two people involved in Kelly’s murder, and one of them turns on the other. Whoever did this has kept this secret for twelve years now, and as they say, two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.” “Let’s hope there’s two of them, and that they’re both still alive then.”
“They find anything yet?” “Yeah, what appears to be dried blood on the steering wheel, so I think we’re looking at a possible abduction, sir.”
“Whoever dumped it here either got lucky or they knew it was a surveillance blind spot.
Stacy had been hired as an event staffing model for a fundraising gala put on by the Morgan Foundation six months ago. Meaning, she was a hot waitress, eye candy to get the male donors to open their pocketbooks. I wonder if that was when Sarah got the idea in her head. Maybe she caught me looking at her and decided to test me, see if I’d stay faithful. Or maybe there was something more she wanted?
On the night of my party, Sarah said she couldn’t go because Summer was sick, and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her with a sitter. I was so disappointed. No, I was pissed. At the time, I thought she didn’t want to see me in her old position, perhaps due to jealousy. But now I know why Sarah couldn’t be there. Because if she had been, how could Stacy test me?
She’s trying to be nonchalant, pretend like nothing is wrong and that I’m the only one acting out. She did the same thing to Adam, made him crazy, while she slowly destroyed him in the background. The only difference is that I’m onto her.
“Everyone deserves a second chance.” “Oh yeah. What about you and me? Where’s my second chance, Sarah?” “You’ll have your second chance with your next wife, Bob.”
“When did you know you were going to divorce me?” “The second I found out you fucked another woman.” “You knew before that,” I challenge, lifting my chin. Sarah simply scoffs and goes back to tidying. She’s treating me like this kitchen, like I’m just another mess she has to clean up.
“I know you hired Stacy to sleep with me.” She tosses the dishrag into the sink. “My God. You have lost your mind.” “No, you’re the one who’s lost their fucking mind. Why’d you do it? Why’d you set me up? Did I piss you off? Did you decide you don’t need me anymore? Did you stop loving me?”
“This isn’t over.” I grit my teeth. Sarah stares at me for a moment, studying me, trying to gauge how serious I am and how much of a fight I’ll put up. “It is, Bob,” she says, but I notice there’s very little conviction in her voice—because deep down, she knows we’re just getting started.
“Spit it out, Morrow.” “Stevens is dead, sir.”
“What the hell do you mean he’s dead? His doctor told me yesterday that surgery went well, and he’d make a full recovery.” “This isn’t from natural causes, sir.” Morrow goes quiet on the other end, save for his labored breaths. “Stevens was murdered,”
“A person could only make a quick slash across their neck in a straight line before the body would go into shock and seize up but . . .” The doctor walks to Ryan’s body and indicates the starting point of the cut under the ear. “This cut pattern, going from under the ear, curving along the throat and back up to the other ear, would require a steady hand throughout. Plus, I mean I’m not an expert on postmortem wounds, but this cut is very deep and consistently so. The odds that he would be able to maintain that amount of force in that curve the entire time are extremely unlikely.”
What were you doing in the bathroom that gave someone enough time to notice you were gone, sneak in, unplug a heart monitor, slit Stevens’s throat from ear to ear, and then leave, all with you seeing nothing? Were you installing a fucking toilet?” “It’s the vending machine food and coffee here, sir. It runs right through me. I was in the bathroom pissing out my—”
They knew Stevens was guarded, but they came in here anyway, and they slit his throat without any hesitation. This isn’t some nameless member of the public who was so enraged they decided to take justice into their own hands. This was personal.”
But I’m sure Ryan would have had no problem compiling an extensive list. The question is, whose name would be at the top?
His expression is serious, his eyes flicking all around my face. And then he leans in, brushing his lips against mine. They’re warm and soft, and he presses into me a little harder. I’d say this was unexpected, but I could tell from the first moment we met, he wanted to do this.
“When I’m done with you, Bob, you’ll be lucky if you even get visitation rights.” “I doubt that. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
He narrows his eyes. “And I’ll be petitioning the court for full custody, so I can ensure Summer doesn’t end up like you.” I take a step toward him, staring into his dark eyes. “The only way that will happen is if I’m dead.”
“What was that?” The smallest smile settles on his face. “Nothing, Sarah. Nothing at all.” Finally, his words register. Or in prison . .
“I’ve got someplace to be anyways.” He looks at me and smirks. “Some loose ends to tie up.” I know it’s a threat, but I don’t know what exactly he’s threatening or what it is he has up his sleeve. The words or in prison swirl around my brain. I always knew he couldn’t be trusted, but this confirms it.
