After finishing some work, I go upstairs and get ready for bed. Once I’m in, I grab my book from the nightstand and set it on my lap. Picking up the remote, I turn on the news, featuring the weatherman's forecast for next week. I open my book, where the bookmark lies between the pages, and start reading. Suddenly, my eyes divert up to the TV.
“We have some breaking news this evening. Nolan Brown, from the Tribeca area, was found murdered in his home by his assistant when he didn’t show up for work this morning. He was stabbed twenty-two times in the chest and abdomen. Nolan Brown and his wife were in the middle of a nasty divorce. The police are now calling this serial killer The Widowmaker.”
My heart jumps out of my chest just as Oliver walks into the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, stopping and staring at the TV.
“Oh, my God. Nolan Brown? I know him. I just spoke to him last week,” he says in shock.
“His wife is Lucinda’s client,” I try to catch my breath, but it isn’t easy. “He was cheating on his wife.”
“I know.” Oliver removes his clothes, slips on black pajama bottoms, and climbs into bed.
“You knew that?” My brow raises.
“Yes. I saw him with her last week at the Beverly Hills Hotel.”
“Why were you at the Beverly Hills Hotel?” I frown.
“Lunch meeting with Garrett Willoughby from Texas. I can’t believe this.”
“They’re calling the killer The Widowmaker,” I say.
“I sure hope they catch the person.” He leans over and kisses me. “Goodnight, darling. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Oliver.”
I set my book on the nightstand and settle under the covers. I try to get some sleep, but I can’t. Now, I’m more than convinced this is the same person who attacked Brian and me back in Maine.
17
DETECTIVE PAIGE WALKER
“Damn it. We’re missing something,”I say, pacing around the room. “We have to catch this guy before any more cheating men get killed.”
I stare at the pictures of the men’s lifeless bodies on the board. Sticky notes in all colors are plastered all over the white background.
“Maybe this will make men think twice before cheating on their wives,” Elijah says, dipping chopsticks into his carton of beef and broccoli. “I, for one, don’t believe in cheating. If I’m unhappy, I get out of the relationship first before pursuing someone else. But that’s me. You know most men are pigs.” A smirk crosses his lips.
“I do know that.” I sigh. “Is that why you’ve been divorced three times?”
Elijah raises his shoulders. “I get bored. What can I say? But I have never once cheated.”
I roll my eyes and look back at the board. “We have four men who were injected with M99 and inflicted with twenty-two stab wounds. All four men were cheating and in the middle of a divorce, which their wives initiated. All four homes were madeto look like break-ins. Jewelry was taken, but so far, nothing has been pawned.” I bring my finger to my chin. “The break-in is staged. No robber goes to rob a house and brings M99 with them. Whoever is doing this is a perfectionist and a strategist. They know precisely when the victims are alone—almost as if he’s watching them first. He knows exactly where to park where no cameras are on the streets.”
“I don’t think the wives are telling us everything,” Elijah says.
“What do you mean?” I turn and look at him.
“You mentioned that the killer knows when the victims are alone. All the wives had iron-clad alibis. Maybe they hired someone to kill their husbands. Maybe there’s some secret number you can call for cheating husbands. I suppose it wouldn’t be cheap to hire someone like that.”
“We combed through all the couple’s financial statements, and no large cash withdrawals were made. I’m telling you the connection is with that law firm.”
“Did you stop to think that it could be the husband’s lawyers or firms?” he asks.
I stare at him, perplexed, wondering how he even made detective in the first place.
“None of the men had the same lawyer or used the same firm,” I say, turning around and staring at the board again.
