It’s when she mentionsThe Royal Murderspodcast and flashes to an old photo of me that I close my eyes and sink deeper into my chair. I can feel the shift in the room, the other occupants making the connection between the image on the TV and the woman sitting in the corner. Someone clears their throat. The couple that had been arguing moments before drops their voices to a whisper, but I hear enough to know their focus is on me now.
Thankfully, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen to find a text from Kez.
Kez
Lanny and Connor are here. Both rattled but safe and okay.
An immediate sense of relief washes through me. My kids are safe. That’s what matters most.
Gwen
Thank you, you have no idea how much I appreciate you taking them in on such short notice.
Kez
Lanny told me what happened. Someone was murdered in your house?? WTF?
It’s a good excuse to stretch my legs, so I head outside, keenly aware of the stares following me the entire way. Despite how late it is, the front of the station and the parking lot beyond are lit up almost as bright as day. The night is quiet, however, and I find a bench tucked in a nook down the walkway.
Gwen
They think it’s Leo Varrus.
I don’t have to explain more. Kez was the first officer on scene at our house in Stillhouse Lake when renters arrived to find the living room coated with blood—Leo Varrus’s blood, as we soon discovered, thanks to DNA testing.
Three dots appear by Kez’s name, but no response. She seems just as surprised and shocked as I was at the news. I start to type more but then think of Agent Gutierrez and his keen eyes. Everything I do from now on will be scrutinized. Any texts subject to a warrant. I have to be careful.
Gwen
I’ll call in the morning when I know more.
Given that she’s a detective who’s been on the other side of the table in these sorts of cases, she immediately gets the hint that it’s best not to put too much in writing.
Kez
What can I do?
Gwen
Just keep the kids safe.
Kez
You okay?
I want to tell her that I’m scared, but what good will that do? She may be my closest friend, but she’s over a hundred miles away and nearly nine months pregnant. I shouldn’t have even dragged her into this mess in the first place.
Suddenly, I feel wholly and achingly alone. I’m still reeling from the news that Sam had been intending to meet with Leo without telling me. I keep trying to tell myself he must have had a good reason, but that still doesn’t quell the uncertainty running through me.
Not that I have an unblemished record when it comes to sharing everything. I’ve been known to keep things to myself in the past. When Jonathan Watson was targeting me and my family, I set off to go meet him without telling Sam where I was going or why.
But after that, we promised to be open with each other. No more secrets. It sounds good in theory, but it has been much harder than it should be to put into practice.
I run a hand down my face, allowing myself a quiet moment to let the fear flow through me before taking a deep breath and typing a response.
Gwen
I will be.