“A private investigator I work with sometimes had it,” he explains. “If I had known he was going to send it to you beforehand, I would’ve stopped him. He had no idea your husband was so... uh...”
I laugh humorlessly. “The word you’re looking for is abusive, Agent.”
It feels strange admitting that out loud... yet, it’s also cathartic.
Derek clears his throat. “Yes... well, like I said, if I had known beforehand, I would have stopped him. I wouldn’t have put you in that situation.”
“Because you did know how Sebastian would have reacted?”
“Yes, I knew. I know. I’m well aware he’s a spineless piece of shit who has no qualms about hitting a woman.”
“How?” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“You’re not his first victim, Presley. There have been at least three that I know of.”
I inhale sharply. “How... why... how can that be? He’s never been arrested. There haven’t been any accusations.”
I don’t think anyway.
Agent Simmons sighs audibly. “Your husband is a wealthy, well-connected man. Even before his time in office. Unfortunately, none of those women pressed charges.”
“Because he paid for their silence?”
“Two of them, yes.”
“And the third?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
“His first wife...took her own life.”
I slam a hand over my mouth. “Oh, God.”
I knew Sebastian had been married for about five years before he met me—a woman named Sabrina. Her official cause of death was a prescription opioid overdose. Supposedly, it was accidental. Sebastian rarely talked about his late wife. I thought it was because thinking about her was too painful, but now, I wonder if it was because he was afraid I’d uncover the truth. That maybe Sabrina was so desperate to escape him, she took control the only way she knew how.
I can’t say I haven’t thought about it more than once.
“There’s something else you should know, Presley.”
“What’s that?”
“Bri—his first wife—was my sister.”
I choke back a sob. “That’s why you said you had no loyalty to the man.”
“Among other things, yes.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Derek.”
“Thank you.”
Neither one of us says anything for a few beats. Finally, I decide to get to the reason behind my call.
“I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
I pick up a pen from the desk and begin twirling it between my fingers. “Why is the FBI interested in my husband?”
“The FBI has no official interest in your husband.”