“Okay. I’ll need your address to stop by later and ask Mrs. Tate more questions.”
She rattles off her address as I type it in my notes on my phone.
“One more thing before you go,” I say. “Do you know if anything was stolen?”
“I have no idea,” Mrs. Tate says.
I walk up the stairs and enter the primary bedroom. I stare at the king-size bed, on which only one side was slept in last night. Other than that, the room is pristine. I walk over to the dresser and lift the lid to what I suspect is a jewelry box. Inside, I find all types of jewelry: diamond earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and other expensive gemstone jewelry.
“I talked to the neighbors. Nobody saw or heard anything last night,” Elijah says, walking into the room.
“It doesn’t look like anything was stolen,” I say. “Her jewelry box is filled with expensive jewelry.”
“Maybe the killer came up here after he killed the husband, saw her sleeping, got scared, and ran off. Remember, with the other murders, the wives weren’t home. He probably thought Mr. Tate was home alone.”
“Maybe,” I say, looking out the bedroom window. “Something is off with this one, and I can’t put my finger on it.”
24
KAT
Samantha setmy bag on the bed in her guest room. I sat on the edge and gripped the gray comforter with little white flowers.
“Here.” Samantha walks into the room, hands me a glass of water, and drops a little white pill in my hand.
“What is this?”
“It’s Xanax. You need it, so take it. It’ll help you relax a little bit. I called the firm and talked to the partners. They told me to tell you to take off as much time as you need, and they’ll reassign your cases until you return.”
“Thanks, Samantha.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She sits on the bed and wraps her arms around me. “I am so sorry this happened. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”
I can, because I’ve already gone through it once.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to lie down,” I say.
“Of course.” She grabs my bag and sets it on the chair in the corner. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything.”
She leaves the room, and I climb under the covers. Tears pour from my eyes, for I can’t believe my Oliver is gone. I never should have taken that damn pill last night. If I hadn’t, I wouldhave heard him or something. I could have stopped it. How? I have no idea, but I would have tried.
The first time it happened, the killer tried to kill me. This time, I don’t have a scratch on me. Did the killer think I wasn’t home? Did he come into my bedroom, see me, and freak? I wish he had killed me because I’m sure I won’t ever get over this. It may be enough to land me in a mental facility. The thought twisted inside me, squeezing my chest and making it hard to breathe. If I didn’t get myself under control, I might end up in a sterile white room with padded walls, surrounded by people in lab coats and clipboards.
I slept for four hours.I only woke up because I heard the door creak.
“I’m sorry, Kat. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Samantha says. “I was just checking on you.”
“It’s fine.” I sit up.
“Why don’t you come downstairs? I’m just about to start dinner.”
“Okay.” I climb out of bed and follow her downstairs.
Travis is home already. He takes one look at me and holds out his arms. I fall into them, holding back the tears that inevitably escape.
“God, Kat. I’m so sorry. Oliver was a good man. He didn’t deserve this.”
“He was a good man,” I sob.
