Page 7

Chapter Six

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Sorry, I’m late.” Samantha sets her purse in the booth and slides in across from me. “I just got the most disturbing phone call.”

“What happened?” My brows furrow.

“One of my client’s husband was found dead this morning in his hotel room.”

“Oh my gosh. That’s terrible,” I say. “Why was he in a hotel room?”

“He recently moved out of the home and was in the process of looking for another apartment. My client found out he had been cheating on her with the same woman for over two years. The divorce was just starting to get really nasty.”

The waitress walks over and takes our order.

“You don’t think your client did it, do you?” My head cocks.

“Unfortunately, she was the first person who came to my mind, but she has an air-tight alibi for last night.”

“That is just awful.” I shake my head. “How was the poor guy murdered? ”

“He was stabbed to death.”

Hearing her say that shook me to my core. An unsettling feeling washes over me as vivid memories of seeing Brian lying on the living room floor in a pool of blood come to the surface.

“Hey, are you okay?” She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “You’re shaking.”

I never told anyone, except for Oliver, what happened back in Maine. As far as other people knew, Brian died in a car accident.

“My blood sugar is probably low.” I force a small smile. “I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“That’s why you’re so skinny.” A smile falls on her lips.

The waitress walks over and sets our grilled chicken cherry salads before us. After what Samantha told me, I immediately picked up my fork and began eating, even though my stomach was tied in knots.

“Travis and I decided to host a dinner party Saturday night. You and Oliver will be there, right?” she asks.

“Oliver is leaving for a business trip on Thursday and won’t return until Sunday.”

“Then you’ll just have to come.” She grins.

“What can I bring?”

“You’re in charge of the dessert. Anything you want.”

“Got it.” I stab my fork into the salad.

“I hate when you go on business trips,” I say, grabbing pairs of Oliver’s socks from the drawer.

“Me too, darling. It’s only for a few days, and then I’ll be back to my beautiful wife. ”

I toss the socks into his suitcase, walk over, and place my hand on his muscular chest.

“You better.” A smile plays on my lips as I reach up and kiss him.

“There’s no place in this world I’d rather be than here with you.”

I say goodbye to my husband and watch as he walks down our porch steps and tosses his suitcase into the back of the sedan waiting at the curb. After watching it pull away, I shut the door and sigh.

After pouring a glass of wine, I grab my bag from the foyer floor and take it into the living room. Tonight is the perfect night to get a lot of work done. I set my wine glass on the end table next to the couch, pull out a file, and look it over. My eyes divert to the painting in the corner—Eyes Without a Face. I can’t concentrate, so I pick up the remote and turn on the news.

“So far, the NYPD does not have a suspect in the murder of real estate mogul John McCormick, who was found stabbed to death in his hotel room two nights ago. Mr. McCormick was stabbed twenty-two times and was found by the cleaning staff when they entered his room the following morning to clean. The police are asking anyone with information to please step forward.”

My heart is a jackhammer in my chest. He was stabbed twenty-two times—twenty-two—the exact number of stab wounds that were inflicted on Brian. I often wondered why I was only stabbed two times. Did the person who broke in get spooked as he cut into my flesh? Maybe he heard a noise outside and ran before finishing me off. Ever since Mr. McCormick’s death, the nightmares have returned, and the worst part is that Oliver isn’t here. Maybe it was time I called Dr. Burton and set up an appointment .

It was now Saturday. I tried to reach Oliver all day, but his phone went straight to voicemail, and my text messages were unread. I was starting to worry because I hadn’t spoken to him on the phone since yesterday, and all I got last night while I was sleeping was a text message from him telling me he missed and loved me.

I stop at my favorite bakery two blocks from our home and pick up the world’s best flourless chocolate cake and a box of blondies. As I’m leaving the bakery, I hear my phone ringing. Pulling it from my purse, my fears are erased when I see Oliver’s handsome picture flashing on the screen.

“Hello.”

“Hello, darling.”

“Oliver, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day.”

“I’m sorry. We were on the boat all day, and I didn’t realize my phone was dead.”

“We?” I ask.

“The firm’s client and his wife. I sealed the deal, Kat.”

I smile. “That’s great, Oliver. I’m happy for you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darling. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon, and we’re staying in all night—just the two of us.”

“That sounds wonderful. I can hardly wait.”

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asks.

“Remember, I told you that Travis and Samantha are having a dinner party. I just left the bakery with a flourless chocolate cake and blondies to bring.”

“That’s right. You did mention the dinner party. I’m coming,” I hear him say. “I have to go, darling. We’re meeting for dinner and drinks to finalize the paperwork.”

“Okay. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too,” he says and ends the call .

My belly finally settles, and the worry that consumed me all day has ceased.

I take a cab over to Samantha’s Park Avenue Penthouse. Her husband, Travis, runs a multi-billion-dollar advertising company in the financial district—one of the best in all of New York. Although Oliver is seven years older than me, Travis is fifteen years older than Samantha, putting him at fifty. They’ve been married for ten years and opted not to have children. According to Samantha, both of them are too selfish to have kids. I, on the other hand, want children. I always have. Oliver and I recently discussed it. I want two kids. He thinks three is the perfect number but in the future.

“Good evening, Mrs. Tate.” Greg, the doorman, tips his hat.

“Good evening, Greg.”

“You can go right on up,” he says.

“Thank you.” I head to the elevator and push the button.

When I reach the penthouse, the elevator opens, and I step into the grand foyer of the five thousand square foot space. It’s beyond me why two people who never want children need a place this big. But then again, Samantha is all about status.

“There you are.” A grin crosses her lips as she hugs me.

“I bring dessert.” I hold up the white plastic bag with two boxes in it.

“Magnolia’s? Please tell me the world’s best flourless chocolate cake is that bag.”

“It is. Along with some blondies.” I smile.

She excitedly takes the bag and offers me a glass of wine. I accept as I look around at the six people gathered in the living room .

“Who are they?” I quietly ask Samantha.

“People Travis works with. See the short guy with the balding head?”

“Yeah.” I glance over my shoulder.

“Travis told me that he’s cheating on his wife with a nineteen-year-old.”

“Him?” My brows furrow.

“Right? What nineteen-year-old would see something in him? It has to be because he’s filthy rich.”

“His wife doesn’t know?” I ask.

“No. She’s been ill for the past six months. Something about her liver. I don’t really know.” She hands me a glass of wine.

“That’s terrible. His poor wife is battling a serious illness, and he’s out screwing around with a nineteen-year-old? What the hell is wrong with men?” I shake my head.

“They only think with one thing. You should know that by now. But I will tell you. If I ever caught wind of Travis cheating on me, I’d be the first one to castrate him.”

“And who are you going to castrate?” Travis walks over and hugs me. “It’s good to see you, Kat.”

“You too, Travis.” I smile.

“I was just telling Kat that if you ever cheated on me, I’d castrate you.” A happy smile dances on Samantha’s lips.

“Ouch. You know I’d never cheat on you. You’re mine for life.” He places his arm around her waist and kisses her.

I’m envious because I wish Oliver were here.

“Hey,” the cheating bald man shouts, “Travis, turn on the news. I just got an alert that another murder took place last night.”

Travis walks over and turns on the TV with the remote.

“Robert Bennett was found stabbed to death in his home late last night after his wife arrived home and found him in the living room.”

“Oh my God. Mrs. Bennett is Leo’s client,” Samantha places her hand over her mouth.

“Two rich, successful men, twenty-two stabs wounds each, two deaths in one week, ” the newscaster says. “Police are asking anyone with any information to contact the police station.”

“I can’t believe this,” Travis says.

I stare at the TV, my belly tied in knots again. I can’t stop thinking about Brian and the incident. It's a good thing I have an appointment with Dr. Burton on Monday.