Page 10

Chapter Nine

TWO WEEKS LATER

I get out of the shower, wrap a fluffy white towel around my body, and walk into the bedroom to figure out today’s outfit.

Grabbing my navy blue pantsuit from the closet, I lay it across the bed, staring at the empty side where Oliver lays. He was on an overnight business trip to Chicago and would return later this evening. Thank God, it was only for one night because my paranoia about being watched was in full swing.

I called Dr. Burton a few days ago and told him I felt the meds were making my paranoia worse. He told me to stop taking it, and we’d talk at my next visit.

I turn on the TV in the bedroom. I like to listen to the news while getting ready for the day.

I was putting on my makeup in the bathroom when I heard the breaking news.

“Multi-millionaire Steven Calloway of Calloway Industries was found murdered in his office last night by twenty-two stab wounds to the chest and abdomen.”

My stomach twists as I run to the toilet and hover over it, tossing up the coffee I drank. My phone rings. I wipe my mouth with a tissue and toss it in the toilet, pushing the handle down. Samantha is calling when I reach for my phone on the nightstand.

“Hello.”

“Oh my God, Kat. Did you hear?” She sounds shaken.

“I just saw the news.” I place my hand on my belly.

My knees feel like they’re going to give out, so I sit on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t believe this. What is happening?”

“I don’t know, Samantha. Listen, I’ll talk to you at the office. I’m running late.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.”

I dial Oliver’s number and wait for him to answer. I was sure he was up by now. It goes to voicemail after the third ring, so I leave a voice message.

“I just saw on the news my client’s husband was murdered last night. I really need you, Oliver.”

I end the call and get ready for work.

When I arrive at my office, I notice a woman sitting in one of the chairs across from my desk.

“Can I help you?” I step into my office.

“Mrs. Tate?” The attractive woman stands. “I’m Detective Paige Walker.” She extends her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Detective Walker.” I lightly shake her hand and sit behind my desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sure you heard about Mr. Calloway’s murder last night.”

“I have.” I nod.

“Mrs. Calloway is your client, correct?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Did you ever hear her make a threat against her husband?” she asks .

I recall that day a couple of weeks ago when she told me that she’d kill him before she’d let him have the Hampton house, but I can’t tell the detective that. Besides, there is no way that Britney Calloway could have murdered her husband. He was a big guy and towered over her.

“No. She never made any threats against him. Does she have an alibi?”

“Yes, and it checked out. She was having dinner with a friend last night. But something isn’t sitting right with me.”

“Like what?” My brows furrowed.

“I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it.” She stands from her chair and hands me a small rectangular card. “This is my number. Please call me if you can think of anything that might help with this case.”

I took the card from her and stared at it. I wonder if I should tell her about Brian and how he was stabbed to death twenty-two times like the three other men. I decided against it because I didn’t want to be involved in any way, shape or form.

She walks to the door, and I call out her name.

“Detective Walker?”

“Yes?” She sharply turns and looks at me.

“The news said he was stabbed twenty-two times like the other two men.”

“That is correct.”

“Why twenty-two times?” I ask.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Tate. It seems like the number 22 has some meaning for this psychopath. Thank you again for speaking with me.” She walks out.

An hour later, my phone rings and startles me. I look down to see Oliver is calling. By this time, I’m pissed.

“Where the hell have you been?” I seethe.

“I was in a meeting, closing a deal. You know damn well I’m here on business, Kat. I listened to your voice message. I’m so sorry. I wish I had been there. I’m on my way to the airport now. I’ll stop by your office before I head to mine.”

“Don’t bother. I have an appointment with Dr. Burton in a couple of hours.”

“You’re angry with me,” he says.

No shit, Sherlock.

“I am a little bit. I very rarely call you when you’re away. And if I do, you know it has to be important. What if there was an emergency?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. From now on, no matter what, I’ll pick up.”

His answer didn’t satisfy me. “I have to go. I have a client waiting for me,” I lie.

“I love you, Katherine. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you, too.” I end the call and place my face in my hands.