Oliver was careful—very careful. He even bought Kat the same perfume Christine wore. He was responsible for paying all the bills, so it was easy to hide them. The hotel stays, flowers, jewelry, and expensive dinners—all charged to his credit card. He didn’t have to worry because he received all his statements online to an email account that Kat didn’t know about.
Shady son-of-a-bitch.
When I first discovered his affair, Iwassurprised. And it doesn’t take much to surprise me. The affair had been going on for months. Why did I hesitate to punish him for his wrongdoings? Why didn't I act when I first saw him with that woman? Because Kat needed him. She had been struggling with the recent murders.
Poor Oliver. All he had to do was stay faithful to Kat, and he would still be alive. But he couldn’t manage one simple task and paid the ultimate price.
26
ONE WEEK LATER
Kat
My shoulders slumpwhile my hands are tightly clasped in front of me. My face is streaked with tears, and my eyes are red and swollen from crying. The minister's voice fades into the background as I focus on Oliver's mahogany casket adorned with a vibrant spray of red roses. My eyes trace the intricate carvings on the wood, but my mind is blank. The world around me feels distant and consumed by grief.
I scan the cemetery, staring at the people who attended my husband’s funeral. That’s when I notice her—a lanky, tall woman with long auburn hair in the back row, dressed in all black—a woman I’ve never seen before.
The funeral ends, and friends offer their condolences. But my eyes are more interested in the woman sitting in the back row. She stands up and begins to walk away. I run after her.
“Excuse me!” I shout.
She stops and turns around, her eyes swollen and red. She grips her coat and tightens it around her.
“Did you know my husband?” I ask, not knowing if I want to hear her answer.
“Uh, yeah.” Her voice trembles slightly, and her hands fidget nervously. Her eyes dart around the area, avoiding direct eye contact with me. "He was my mentor at the firm," she explained, her tone uncertain, unsure how much to reveal about their relationship.
“So, you worked with him?”
“Briefly. As I said, he was my mentor. I work out of the Chicago offices.”
I cock my head. “I wouldn’t say you worked with him briefly then. He traveled to the Chicago offices every other week.”
“I know. But we didn’t work together. Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss.” She scurries away.
“Who was that?” Samantha walks over and places her arm around me.
“I believe that was the woman my husband was having an affair with.”
She stares at me in disbelief. “You do think he was cheating on you?”
“I didn’t until now.” I walk away.
I see Detective Walker standing by a tree with her arms folded. So, I walk over to her.
“Detective Walker.” I nod.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Tate.”
“You can call me Katherine,” I say.
“I wanted to let you know we’re finished at your house. You can go back there when you’re ready.”
“Did you find anything?”
“No. Unfortunately, we didn’t. But we’ll get the son-of-a-bitch who did this. I promise.”
“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming.”
