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Chapter Forty-Five

DAHLIA

Two Weeks Later

I’m finally out of the place. With the click of the lock, I'm free.

The warm spring breeze hits my face as I push open the heavy glass doors of Bellevue and step outside. I take a deep breath and savor the sweet scent of newly blooming flowers. The sun is shining, and birds are chirping in the distance. For the first time in forever, I feel truly alive.

I check on Katherine from time to time. She’s as happy as a clam with her new life, tucked away on an island with her perfect husband and home. But now that I’m out, I won’t check on her anymore. I have a new life to live.

When I step inside, the brownstone is empty. During my stay in Bellevue, I had arranged for all the furniture to be moved out and put into storage. I only came by to collect what was left in the bedroom closet. The door opens, and the new owners walk in. They wanted to be here when I retrieved my things since it is now their home.

I fill the large suitcase. Mr. Brown is nice enough to carry it down the stairs for me and load it into the cab at the curb.

“I hope the two of you will be very happy here,” I tell them.

“The house is so lovely. We will be.” Mrs. Brown smiles.

“My husband and I were very happy here.” I walk to the door, place my hand on the knob, and turn around. “Until he was murdered.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Brown’s brows furrow.

“The realtor didn’t tell you? My husband was murdered in this house. He was stabbed twenty-two times, and his body lay on the floor right over there, I point. “It was a break-in.”

“I—I…we weren’t told any of this,” Mrs. Brown’s voice is shaky.

“You’ll be fine. You might want to install a better security system, though.” I smile, open the door, and walk out of the house.

Before climbing into the cab, I see a car parked down the street. Detective Walker is following me, and I don’t like it.

After checking into The Plaza, I toss my suitcase on the bed, unzip it, take out the blonde blunt-cut wig with a bang, and hold it up. This will have to do until I can get my natural hair this color. After placing the wig on my head, I take the box of colored contacts out and place them in my eyes, changing the color from blue to a beautiful emerald color. Now, what to do about Detective Walker and her incessant following. She won’t recognize me in this disguise.

I waited until midnight to check out of the Plaza, leaving behind any ties to my old life. Then, I instructed the bellman to load my luggage into the back of a cab and told the driver to take me to the 1Hotel Brooklyn Bridge in Brooklyn. As we drove through the city streets, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and determination for the new plan I was about to implement.

If I don’t leave this city, Detective Walker will not stop trying to prove I’m The Widowmaker. Every move I have made since my first kill has been carefully calculated down to the smallest detail. That's why I had paid a hefty sum to have the large, black safe containing all the evidence dropped into the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. The thought of it sinking deeper and deeper, out of reach from prying eyes, gave me a sense of relief and satisfaction. I couldn't risk getting caught now when I had come so far and accomplished so much.

I stretch across the plush bed and open my laptop, pulling up a map of the United States.

“Where would I like to go?” I press my finger to my lips as I study the map. Florida wouldn’t be too bad. I hear the Florida Keys are lovely. Or maybe Hawaii. No. Key West.

I pull up houses for sale and study the few that are available. One catches my attention and is located on Frances Street. It’s a beautiful multi-level, white-sided home surrounded by a white picket fence. Black shutters grace the windows, and the wraparound porch reminds me of Katherine’s house. I review the photos of the four-bedroom, four-bath, three-thousand-fifteen-square-foot home that has been completely renovated. It’s perfect, and I can see myself living there—no more brutally cold and snowy New York City winters. Just plenty of sunshine and warm weather. No more boots or coats—just shorts, tank tops, maxi dresses, and sandals. Tomorrow, I will call the realtor and put in an offer.