Page 27 of The Perfect Marriage

“Mind if I wait out here then?” He leans against the hood of his vehicle.

“Knock yourself out.” Sheriff Stevens turns back toward me, while Deputy Hudson removes his aviators and narrows his eyes… seemingly directed at me.

“Are you ready to go inside?” Sheriff Stevens asks. I nod, and he helps me up from the bench.

We walk through the front door, ducking under the crime scene tape. Inside, the house is still. Many things are strewn about, which I’m sure is from the police search.

In the kitchen I set down my coffee cup and the folder. I glance around trying to spot anything out of place. The kitchen appears to be well kept, despite random cupboards and drawers left partially open.

In the living room the bearskin rug is kicked up. The decorative couch pillows and throw blankets are on the floor, but other than that everything else is in place, including the built-in bookshelf. Every book is pushed in and facing the correct direction. I look at the wet bar and notice the uncapped scotch decanter.

I point to it. “Was that tested?”

Sheriff Stevens walks a couple of steps from the kitchen into the open-concept living room.

“Not that I’m aware. What should it be tested for?” He takes a few more steps and stands beside me.

“Well if Rohypnol was found in Kelly’s body—maybe, this is how it got there.” I put the cap back on the decanter. Sheriff Stevens rubs his chin.

“Good point,” he says. “When we’re done here. I’ll have Deputy Hudson do another once-through.” He pulls out a pen and a small notepad from his pocket and jots down a few things.

I nod and walk to the bedroom. The bed is unmade. The once white sheets are stained red and brown, soaked through to the mattress and there’s a puddle of dried blood on the floor beside it. The smell of iron and decay hits me like a smack in the face. I cover my nose, trying to breathe through my mouth. I take a few more steps into the bedroom, standing right before the bed.

Sheriff Stevens stands behind me. I can feel his breath on my neck. “Are you okay?”

I nod. It’s not convincing, because I’m not okay. None of this is okay. How could Adam do this to me? What the fuck was he thinking? Did he plan on leaving me? Would he have left me if she was still alive? The anger takes ahold of me and comes out in the form of tears. I don’t cry when I’m sad. I cry when I’m angry. I turn toward Sheriff Stevens. He sees the tears and immediately wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a comforting embrace. He rubs my back with one hand, while the other strokes the back of my head. We stand there for a few minutes. He makes me feel less angry. He makes me feel like everything is going to be all right at this moment. He makes me feel like things can get better. I’m grateful that I forgot my place, even if only for a moment.

“Let’s go.” He escorts me out of the bedroom.

Once in the living room, I glance around again, and my eyes stop at Adam’s writing desk. It’s disorganized, the drawers are pulled out, and his chair is flipped over. I run my hands over the cherry wood. I remember the day I surprised Adam with it. It was right after he got his first book deal. I was incredibly proud of him and I had never seen him happier. The memory makes me smile, makes me remember the us we were before all of this. And then I remember what I liked about this desk, what swayed me to pick this one out. My hand grazes over the top of it, sliding to the panel on the right side—I push against it. It clicks in, and then a concealment compartment opens. Inside is a handgun and a manila envelope. I don’t flinch at the gun. I knew it was there. Adam had purchased it shortly after we bought the lake house. It was meant for protection—a job it failed to do. It’s the manila envelope that makes me feel uneasy.

“Well, shit. Can’t say we would have found that,” Sheriff Stevens remarks from beside me.

I reach for the envelope.

“Wait.” He stops me. He pulls out a pair of gloves and hands them over. Once I’ve put them on, he nods, granting me permission. I reach for the envelope and slowly open it, pulling out a 5x7photo. It’s a picture of Adam and Kelly with the lake house behind them and the water in front. He’s wearing boxers. She’s wearing a thong, but she’s topless. The closeness of his body covers her chest. Her legs are wrapped around him. His hands are cupping her butt. Her hands are around his neck. Their lips are connected in a passionate kiss. They look happy.

Sheriff Stevens lets out an awkward cough. He pulls out an evidence bag and carefully slides the gun into it. I start to slip the photo back into the envelope, but instinctively, I stop. Someone took this photo, and it looks like Adam and Kelly weren’t even aware they were being photographed at that moment.

I turn the picture over and written on the back in Sharpie marker are the words, “END IT OR I WILL.” I look at Sheriff Stevens. My eyes grow wide.

He groans. “Things just got a whole hell of a lot more complicated,” he says shaking his head.

“Someone knew about Kelly and Adam. This is a threat. This is proof that Adam didn’t do it.” My voice is full of enthusiasm. “This is a huge break. It’s reasonable doubt.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I will admit this bodes well for Adam.”

I slide the picture back into the envelope. Sheriff Stevens bags it up. “We’ll get it tested for fingerprints.”

“What about handwriting analysis?”

“We’ll need handwriting to analyze it against,” he says raising an eyebrow.

“Of course.” I’m getting ahead of myself. I need to slow down and really think this all through.But wait—if this was hidden… Adam had to have known about this. Adam must have put it here.

“You ready?” Sheriff Stevens walks toward the front door. I nod and take the folder from the counter on my way out.

Outside Deputy Hudson is still leaned up against his car.

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