Killing Katie (An Affair With Murder) (Volume 1) (12 page)

Lightbulbs flashed—a thousand watts—blinding and searing. I’d completely forgotten about the dinner with his boss. Charlie Dawson and his wife were at least two decades older than we were, and as Steve’s boss, he was finally moving on to a new role: less detective work and more house work. Retirement. Charlie had just one name on his list of who it should be to fill his shoes. Steve. Tonight was the traditional couple’s dinner—a pastime at their station for nearly a century.

“What, and miss your big dinner with Charlie?” I answered, trying to sound enthusiastic. He shot an
“Are you sure?”
look at me, and then waited. I went to him, pulling him close. “I’m so proud of you. Do you know that?” His expression immediately changed to one of boyish pride. Adorable.

“Thanks, babe,” he answered as he patted my ass. “I’m glad you’re okay and that you’re up to going.”

“I might be up for even more later,” I quickly added, winking and hoping a hot shower in place of my planned bath would magically revitalize me.

I made my way to our room and then the shower, doing so in a daze and emptying my mind. The steamy water rained over me, washing away any leftovers from the homeless man and what I’d done to him. I stayed in the shower for as long as I could, enjoying the run of hot water as it pelted against my chest and neck and back. At one point, I could have laid down right there and gone to sleep.

“Fifteen minutes!” Steve called out, rapping his hand against the door. By the time I met him in our foyer, nobody would be the wiser to what I’d gone through earlier in the evening.

When I came down, Steve’s gaped-mouth told me that I looked as stunning as I thought. He gave me a whistle and put his hand above my head, encouraging me to spin around for him. I did so, kicking up my high heels so that my skirt rode up my thigh.

“You look amazing.”

“Delicious enough to eat?” I teased, licking my lips.

Steve said nothing, smacking his lips instead, before motioning behind me. The kids and Steve’s mom saw us off, but not before I made sure they knew that I was fine.

I
HADN’T CONSIDERED
the drive back to Romeo’s. I hadn’t considered the bridge over Neshaminy Creek and the knife I’d thrown into the water, hiding what I’d done. The threat of being caught caused a fresh ripple of nerves. My teeth chattered. I tried to control my emotion, but shivered whenever I clenched to stop the noise. Gooseflesh rose on my arms too, and my nipples became firm, the outlines showing prominently through the front of my dress.

“Charlie is really going to be happy when he sees you,” Steve joked, taking my hand and lifting a finger to touch the front of my dress. “Cold?”

“These aren’t for him,” I answered. Then I added, “I’ll be fine.” I’d brought a shawl, knowing the evening would be chilly, and threw it over my shoulders.

When we drove to the peak of the bridge’s deck, I peered over. My body stiffened, and I clutched my seat when I saw the glint of the knife.

But that’s impossible,
I told myself.
It’s too dark and we’re up too high.

My nerves were playing with me. More flashes of light came then—the moon’s reflection breaking on the water. I sighed and distantly wondered if the creek’s water would wash away the blood, wash away my sin.

As we entered into the center of town, I saw the first indication that the murder had been discovered. Soft flashes of red and blue blanketed the trees and cut harsh wedges into the road. The car’s headlights washed the colors away for a moment, but then more light came from behind us. Police cars drove around us and pulled Steve’s attention like a scurrying mouse before a cat.

“I wonder what’s going on over there?” Steve asked as we pulled up to Romeo’s.

“Where?” I answered, playing along as though unaware of what lay in the dark alley.

“Across the street, a block or so down,” he answered. “Didn’t you see the patrols?”

I had. The patrol cars straddled the road and sidewalk, blocking the entrance to the alley. A tornado began to swirl in my mind, throwing visions of the homeless man’s body on a gurney and handcuffs around my wrists and being guided into the backseat of a squad car.

Play it cool,
I told myself, trying to calm my nerves.
You’re not practicing anymore.

“Sure did,” I answered in a flat tone, remaining unemotional. I leaned toward Steve, distracting him by pointing to Romeo’s. “Look. A parking spot in front of the restaurant. See if you can grab it.”

“I should probably stop over there and see what’s going on,” Steve said, turning the steering wheel around. I chewed on my lip and tried to ignore the fluttering in my belly. The car rolled into the parking space.

“Nice fit too,” he said. “Good eyes.”

“Want to go inside first?” I asked. “We can get our table, then meet up with Charlie and Vickie, maybe order some drinks?” But Steve’s eyes were locked on the waves of blue and red lights circling atop the patrol cars. A parade of uniformed officers made their way in and out of the alley. Some came out empty-handed. Others did not.

Even in the faint light of the street lamps, I could see the library door open. Nerd stepped out. My heart seized and I stopped breathing. Nerd shrugged his shoulders, shifting his denim jacket up against the chilly air. Instinctively, I slowly lowered myself, sliding down in my seat until my eyes were just above the headrest.

“Looks like Charlie beat me to it,” Steve said, opening his car door. “Vickie is still in their car. Why don’t you two go inside and get started without us?” I heard Steve, but couldn’t stop watching Nerd. When he saw the activity around the alley, he stayed on the street, clearly choosing to avoid the police.

“How long will you be?” I asked, setting a tone in my voice to make sure he knew that I was annoyed as well as concerned.

“Long?” Steve waved to Charlie, who’d already motioned to him. He leaned back into the car so I could see him roll his eyes. Then he fixed his features in an apologetic expression that was familiar. It was his way of saying he had no idea how long they’d be. I knew it would be a very long night. Over the years, I’d come to loathe that look.

“It looks like they’ve got something already,” he began as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves with a rehearsed snap. I hadn’t realized he kept the gloves in the car, but the idea of them being available was interesting to note. “We might be a while. You know what I like. Could you order it for me?”

“So you won’t be long?” I said, needling. Over his shoulder, I could see another officer walk out of the alley. The chills returned and my teeth chattered. I lifted the front of my dress.

The buttons!
I realized with a startle.

I flattened myself against the car seat, trying desperately to think of where the buttons from my blouse had gone.

Had the homeless man been clutching the front of my blouse when I killed him?

I imagined them wrapped up in his death grip. A portly officer stepped into the thin light—an evidence bag hung from his grubby hands. Did I see buttons in there? I could have died. “Can you get a ride home?” I forced myself to ask.

Steve stepped back, shaking his head, “Babe, we might not be that long. Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

“No, no, that’s okay,” I interrupted. “I’ll fix myself something at home. See you after you’re done here.” As I finished talking, I heard Charlie call out Steve’s name. I watched as his wife drove away. She flashed me a quick look that said, “Oh well, that’s what you get when you marry a cop.”
She put her hand out of the window and gave us a quick wave.

Steve waved and turned around, his loafers crushing a stone with a loud noise. “I guess that answers that,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie is sending Vickie home. They must have found something significant.” For a moment, all I could see were the empty screams—the homeless man’s mouth hanging open and his eyes staring wide and looking like two creamy, white buttons that had once been sewn to my blouse.

“I’ll see you at home, then?” I managed to get out just as Nerd crossed the street in front of the library. Go the other way, I wanted to yell.

Had he seen me?

He didn’t know Steve or the car we drove, but he’d recognize me in a minute if I stayed where I was. I jumped over the center console and moved the driver’s seat up so that I could reach the car pedals. Steve cleared me by a foot, so I came only up to his shoulders; that worked out great most of the time, but not so much at other times. Case in point: our car.

“Love you, babe,” I said and closed the car door, forcing Steve to jump out of the way.

“Well, okay,” he said, a hurt in his eyes from having read my urgency as being directed at him. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I answered, pushing up through the car’s window to reach him. “Kisses.”

Steve dipped his broad shoulders below the window and set his lips onto mine. He tried to be a little romantic, touching my face, turning his head sensually. I appreciated it, but I was in a rush to get out of there. I peered into the side mirror, behind the car, to try and find Nerd. I couldn’t see him, which eased my nerves.

We finished our sloppy kiss and I moved back in front of the steering wheel. As I backed up to pull out of the parking spot, Nerd appeared in the side mirror. He saw me. Nerd stopped at his car—keys frozen in his hand. He didn’t move, didn’t motion toward me. He did nothing. We locked eyes in the mirror. Then I heard Steve’s voice.

“Hey. You!” he called to Nerd. I slipped out of the parking space, squealing the tires. I headed back toward the bridge. I watched through the rearview mirror as Steve urged Nerd to come over to him. He wanted to question him. While that was a standard practice, Nerd would certainly find out that my husband was a police detective.

I put everything out of my mind and entered our home as if everything were normal. I told Steve’s mom about the dinner being canceled on account of something happening across from Romeo’s.

“Could be another attack,” she said, shaking her head as she spoke—a gesture that I’d seen in Steve too. “I sure hope they catch that fucker!”

“Mom!” I said, taken aback by her language. She was a churchgoing woman, and we rarely heard her cuss. “Yeah, I think they’ll catch the fucker.” She giggled, sounding grandmotherly again, and then helped me gather up Snacks to put her down for the evening.

Our house became eerily quiet after Steve’s mother left. With Snacks in bed and Michael playing on his computer, I tucked myself under the flannel blankets on our bed and closed my eyes. In the darkness I saw a veil of red, as though the sun were bleeding through my eyelids. I began to fall asleep when the smell of blood flared up in my nostrils again. There were no blue flashing lights, no police, no evidence bags—just me and the knife and the man I killed. I had plunged the knife into his neck but failed to control his hands. I grabbed my chest and felt for the buttons I knew were gone.

Before I went to bed, I’d taken the possible evidence and hidden it in the garage. Finding an old box—a temporary secret box—I stuffed my blouse away, inspecting the broken threads where the buttons had been. Tomorrow I’d take the blouse out into a field at first light and burn it under the rising sun. If there was an evidence bag containing my buttons, they’d never be able to match them up to my blouse then.

Steve eventually crawled under the blankets and cozied up next to me. How many hours had I slept? I had never heard him come home, never heard a car pull up or the sound of our front door opening. He eased his hand onto my stomach, then slid it down between my legs.

He said not a word about what they had found in the alley or what evidence had been collected. Nothing. I didn’t find that alarming, since Steve often said little when it was early on in a new case.

“Where were we?” he asked, propping himself above me.

“Right here,” I answered, wrapping my legs around him. I was looking at Steve then, staring into his eyes, but all I could think about was the blood spraying and the moist scent of metal and the tip of the knife’s blade diving in and out. Almost at once, I was hot and wet. I thrust my hips upward, inviting him. We groaned together when he entered me.

“Wait a second,” I said. I quickly moved around so that I was on top, clutching the sheets and driving up and down.

“Hey babe, slow down,” he said through choked grunts. But I ignored him and drove our bodies together again and again. Desire rose in me like a fever, heavy and fast, thrusting and leading us toward orgasm. “I can’t—”

“I’m almost there too,” I interrupted, coming with him. A shiver ran through my body and I collapsed on top of him. We stayed like that, panting, connected. I could still feel him inside me while we feathered one another with the simple kisses that meant everything to me.

“That’s a nice turn,” he said, planting his lips on my neck.

“What is?”

“I’m usually the one that can’t hold back.”

Our bodies bumped up and down in the type of quiet laugh shared between lovers. We said nothing more. I felt him slip out of me. We drifted to our designated sides of the bed, quickly falling asleep. I guessed we would have very different dreams.

A
WOMAN’S LIPS
, red and glistening. A white glow captured them in the moonlight. The image was surreal, electric, and sensual. I saw nothing else, only her parted lips against the ghostly white light. In the darkness, upholstery and thinning carpet rubbed against my legs. I tried to move, hating the feel of the shag on my bare skin.

The air was summertime humid—hot and thick—and a thin sheen of sweat covered my body. It was the time of year when crickets chirped and tree frogs sang. Only I didn’t hear them tonight. I’d been sitting in the darkness a long time, huddled down behind the backseat of our car, waiting. My knees had cramped and my backside had been numb for a while. A crack above me let just enough moonlight in to touch my arm. Goose bumps rose on my skin. They had come when I heard the man’s voice, when I realized that the night would end the same as before.