Page 68 of The Perfect Marriage

“These three have the closest connection to Kelly’s past life and all live within a 150-mile radius of Prince William County. Each folder contains a bio, a photo, and background report. Two of them have criminal histories. One doesn’t. This is all I had time to get, but it’s a good start.”

I pick up the folders and open the first one. I hope one of these sparks something, but I’m not sure how or if it will. I need more than a good start. I need a finish line.

I open the first folder. It’s a middle-aged woman by the name of Cheryl. She lives one and a half hours south of here. Two kids. Several speeding tickets and one disorderly conduct charge. She’s hard looking with thin lips and a pointy nose.

“That’s Cheryl. She’s Greg’s cousin,” Rebecca explains.

“What are your thoughts on her?”

“She’s related and lives close enough to commit the crime, but I don’t think she and Greg were all that close and it seems she has enough problems of her own.”

I’m content with Rebecca’s explanation, so I close the folder and toss it on the coffee table. I open the next one. It’s a picture of a middle-aged man with dark eyes and dark brown, well-styled hair. My first thought is,this guy looks like a real prick. His name is Nicholas Robert Miller. He has no criminal history, and he looks familiar, but I can’t place him. I’ve seen him before.

“What’s this guy’s story?”

“He’s Greg’s brother. Lives in D.C. No criminal history. They were obviously close. He’s definitely a possibility, but I didn’t have time to look into his alibi for that evening. Depending on that, he could be a prime suspect,” she says.

“He looks familiar.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I just can’t place him—but I’ve seen this man before.”

“If he had anything to do with this, he would have been watching you and Kelly. Maybe you’ve seen him in the area, like at Seth’s Coffee.”

“That’s a possibility, but I feel like I’ve spoken to him.”

“Maybe you did.” Rebecca raises an eyebrow.

I close my eyes trying to pick that moment out from my memory. I’ve spoken to this man before, but where? Where and when would I have had a conversation with him? I try to recall all the times I sat at Seth’s Coffee, flirting with Kelly, watching her, and waiting for her to get off work. I had occasionally spoken to others in the café. Would I have seen him there? Would he have approached me? I can’t recall. I look at the photo again. My eyes staring into his. I’ve had a conversation with this man before, and I recall it being heated. I remember not liking this guy, but I don’t know why. I look at it a few more moments, and when I can’t pull the memory, I set the folder on the table. I leave it open, hoping that any glance will spark something.

Taking a deep breath, I open the next folder. I don’t recognize the woman in the photo. Maddie Burns. She was Greg’s ex-fiancée. Petite with long brown hair and very homely-looking.

“Fuck!” I throw the folder onto the ground.

“What? What is it?” Rebecca asks.

“It’s none of these goddamn people. You were supposed to help.” I point at Rebecca and stare her down. She nearly jumps from her seat. Her eyes widen as I lose my temper. At the wet bar, I take a long swig of scotch.

“Maybe your wife is right then. Maybe it’s not someone from Kelly’s past,” Rebecca offers.

I take another long swig. “It has to be. It fucking has to.”

“Not necessarily. What’s this?” Rebecca motions to the box on the coffee table.

“It’s all the evidence from the case. Sarah brought it over.” I take a seat beside Rebecca, feeling defeated.

“Have you looked through it?” She leans forward pulling out the box’s contents.

I just shake my head. It’s all over for me. I drop my head into my hands.

“Isn’t this the photo with the threat you were talking about?” Rebecca holds it up. “The one you received two weeks before the murder?”

I hadn’t seen it since the day I found it in my mailbox.

She flips it over and over, examining it. “This has to be something,” she says. “It’s too convenient to be nothing.”

I look down at the table and another handwritten note catches my eye. I look back at the photo Rebecca is holding.

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