Page 26 of The Perfect Marriage

I don’t look up. I keep reading. “Yes, black, please.” My attention is solely focused on the task at hand.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute. Please don’t go in there without me.”

“In my own house?” I say with a bit of sass.

He lets out a sigh and goes down the porch steps. I look up from the paper and watch him walk away. I hadn’t really noticed how good he looked before. Tall, broad shoulders, a freshly starched shirt. Despite his shortcomings and worn-down visage, he really does have a commanding attraction to him.

“I won’t go in my house without you.”

He turns back with a slight grin, trying to force the uncomfortableness out of this conversation. “Good, I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you too. It seems to run in the family.” He chuckles and then shakes his head as he catches the awkwardness of his attempt at humor. I continue flipping through the pages, rolling my eyes at him.

Sheriff Stevens is gone no more than twenty minutes, and by the time he returns, I’ve gotten through all the information. Kelly Summers died as a result of her stab wounds. She had Rohypnol and a BAC level of .16, twice the legal driving limit. She had bruises on her back, shoulder, and hip that were caused at least twenty-four hours before she was murdered. The skin underneath her fingernails is a match with Adam. Semen was found in her vagina, anus, and mouth—and according to the DNA results, the semen is a match with Adam as well. However, there were two additional sets of DNA found in her vagina that do not match Adam.

Sheriff Stevens walks up and hands me a cup of coffee. He casually sips at his own while he takes a seat on the bench inches from me. He’s taking in the view from the porch, glancing around at squirrels running to and fro and the mass of fall-colored leaves, just barely holding on.

“What’d ya learn?” He takes another drink of his coffee.

I close the folder and place it beside me, sipping at my own drink. “There were two other sets of DNA found in her. Have you run any tests on those?”

“We’ll get Scott’s back later this afternoon, and I’m going to assume he’ll be a match with one of them, but that just proves he had sex with his wife.”

“What about the other set of DNA?”

“We’re hoping the phone records give us more insight into that. Maybe she was seeing someone else. Maybe she was raped, and that’s the real murderer. We’re not sure.”

“Seeing someone else?”

“That third set of DNA caught us by surprise too.” He turns to me raising one of his eyebrows.

“What’s your theory?” I lean back into my seat.

He leans back too, getting a little more comfortable. “Well… before finding the third set of DNA I thought we just might have our man. But now Adam as the murderer doesn’t sit well for me. I’ll be honest, Adam didn’t make sense before the DNA results.”

“Why?”

“It’s too easy.”

“What do you mean it’s too easy?”

“It’s just too easy. Adam, a well-educated and well-established author, kills his mistress in his own house. It doesn’t make any sense. Unless, of course, it was by accident. But I don’t see how someone could stab another person thirty-seven times by accident.”

“I don’t think Adam did this.” I give him a look of sincerity. “Although, deep down I can’t be sure,” I sigh.

Sheriff Stevens creases his brow. “What do you mean you can’t be sure?”

“Like you said, what if it was by accident and Adam tried to cover it up by making it look like a murder? Or what if he blacked out and did it and doesn’t remember doing it?”

“That’s possible,” he says rubbing his chin.

“I need to see him and get all the details from that evening. All the commotion with Scott cut our preliminary chat short. And all I know right now is Adam is the only one that had the means, motive, and opportunity to do this. His motive could have been that Kelly was threatening to tell me or maybe she wanted to leave him or abort the baby.”

A police car rolls up the driveway, its tires crunching dead leaves and dry dirt. It pulls up beside Sheriff Stevens onto the grass, marking its territory. Deputy Marcus Hudson steps out of the car. He looks like a G.I. Joe action figure in his uniform and a pair of aviators.

“What are you doing here, Deputy Hudson?” Sheriff Stevens calls out to him. He stands from the bench and walks to the stairs of the porch. Deputy Hudson takes a few steps toward him and crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he were actually here to protect and serve. Although, who here needs that protection is unclear.

“Just checking to see if you need any assistance.” Deputy Hudson looks around nonchalantly and then returns his attention to Sheriff Stevens.

“I don’t,” Sheriff Stevens says dismissively.

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