Page 82 of Noble Neighbor
“Dead.”Dead?He banged his head against the wall.
“He had a gun. Opened fire. We had no choice.”
“Fuck,” he bit out, staring at the wall opposite him. A framed portrait of him and Christie on their wedding day stared back. She had been so beautiful that day. Captivating. Full of life. Now she was gone.
Death was too easy for the man who’d snuffed out her light.
The moments ticked by, then he asked, “Who?”
“Lathan Randolph.”
Oliver blinked, and blinked again, before slowly turning his head to stare at the agent in disbelief. “Senator Randolph’s son?”
“The one and only.”
“Lathan ‘Perfect Husband, Perfect Father’ Randolph is …”
“The ‘Silk Rope Strangler’,” Williams supplied the moniker Oliver refused to utter. “Savannah Randolph found Christie’s pendant in the wash this morning. She recognized it from last night’s appeal and called me.”
“His wife …” Oliver pushed up straight.
Williams sat forward. “She had no idea, Oliver.”
“Bullshit.” Oliver shook his head vigorously. “The man murdered women for eighteen months. How could she not have known?”
23
Dirty laundry
Present day …
Sunny tucked the sheet in, smiling as she rememberedwaking to sweet kisses and soft caresses. She’d surfaced from sleep,already aroused, and Oliver had slipped into her, filling her. With a slow, sure rhythm, he’d built her up and up before taking her over the edge, joining her moments later with a satisfied groan.
They’d made love dozens of times, tried many positions,but this morning … it had been intimate, fulfilling, and so beautiful.
Afterward, watching him dress, she’d regretted he needed to leave. It would’ve been more enjoyable if they’d been able to snuggle, enjoy the warmth of the bed and each other for a while longer. Instead, he’d climbed out of bed without rancor, dressed, and braved the cold to go home.
But Oliver hated doing it, she knew. He wanted more.
As did she. Very much so.
And she was going to tell him. This morning.
But first … there was something else she needed to do. A couple of minutes later, the throwaway was in her hand.
“It’s me,” Sunny started when Aleck answered.
“I wondered if you’d call.”
She frowned. “Why?”
A beat of silence followed. “It’s five years next week.”
Oh.Oh.
“You forgot?” There was surprise in Aleck’s voice.
She sighed. “No.” How could she ever forget the day her life disintegrated? “Just … a lot has happened and … I guess I lost track of time,” she admitted and spent the next few minutes catching Aleck up on her life, Cliff Notes version.
