“Let me pour you a drink. What would you like?” he asks. “Wine?”
I shake my head. “Something stronger.”
“Scotch?”
“Scotch is fine. Make it a double.”
I perch myself on a stool in the kitchen while Samantha preps dinner. Travis hands me my scotch, walks over to Samantha, and kisses her cheek. “I’ll be in my office working.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready,” she says.
I stare at them—jealous, envious. I’ll never get a kiss or get to kiss my husband again.
Dinner is ready—roasted chicken, scalloped potatoes, steamed carrots, and a loaf of freshly baked bread from the bakery fill the middle of the table. I mostly pick at my food. I’m sick to my stomach. I know I should eat, but I can’t.
Travis gets up from his seat when he hears the elevator ding. A few moments before, the doorman called to inform us that Detective Walker was heading up.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. I can wait until you’re finished.”
“It’s fine. I can’t eat anyway,” I say, standing up and walking into the living room.
We sit on the couch, and she reaches over and places her hand on mine.
“I know this is very difficult, Mrs. Tate. But I have to ask. Did you know your husband was having an affair?”
“NO!” I snap, shaking my head. “Oliver would never do that to me.”
“How well did you know your husband?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” I furrow my brows. “I knew my husband better than anyone.”
“But you didn’t know he was having an affair?”
“He wasn’t!” I cup my face in my hands.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate, but he was.”
“No.” I shake my head and sob.
“Okay,” she sighs. “That’s enough for tonight. I’m sorry for having to put you through more pain, but we’re trying tocatch the psychopath who is walking around the city murdering men. Please call me if you can think of anything or remember something that might help.”
She gently pats my shoulder and leaves the room. Samantha walks over, sits beside me, and softly runs her hand up and down my back.
“Does she really think that Oliver was cheating on you?”
I nod, my face still buried in my hands.
“That is ridiculous. Oliver was madly in love with you. He would never.”
With a slight turn of my head, I stare at her. “I’m not sure I knew him at all.”
25
DAHLIA
Katherine will be fine.She just needs a little time to get over it. The look in Oliver’s eyes when I plunged the knife into his chest was priceless.
Christine. His whore’s name was Christine. A twenty-eight-year-old woman with long auburn hair, green eyes, and a stick for a body. She works at the Chicago office, but that’s not where they met. They met at his firm when she came to New York to train. He boarded a plane to Chicago every other week, but not for business, as his wife thought. He flew there to see her. And when she was in New York, they would meet at the luxurious Mandarin Oriental and spend a few precious hours together in a private room.
