Page 98 of Before This Ends (Before)

“Alone?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“What time was that?” I look up at him.

“I don’t know. I think I got home a little after one.”

“Had you ever met Anna Cole prior to her passing?” Martinez asks.

“What’s this about?” He glances between Martinez and me.

“What was your relationship with Anna?” Martinez continues not answering his question.

“I didn’t know her.”

“Your phone records say differently.” Martinez hands him the printout of texts between Anna’s cell phone and the number that connected to the prepay line that pinged off the tower near his house.

“That’s not my phone.”

“I have footage of you purchasing that cell phone from the Walmart near your house,” Martinez lies, unless he got that evidence today, which he might have. Knowing who Kelly is has opened the floodgates on information.

“Fuck.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “Look, I know this looks bad, but I didn’t hurt either of those women,” he says, looking between Martinez and me.

“Then maybe you can explain why the two of them would have been driving out toward your house just hours before they were murdered, and you were following right behind them.” Martinez pulls out the photos from the gas station camera, placing them on the table. “How long were you and Anna seeing each other?”

He scoots back from the table. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

“Did your wife find out you were having an affair?” he asks, and Kelly’s eyes come to me. Wide, panicked. “Did Anna tell you she thought she was pregnant?” Martinez continues.

I look at the door behind me when there is a knock and get up to answer it. When I see Tucker, I step out into the hall and shut the door. “His wife just asked for a lawyer.”

“Shit.”

“But before she did that, she said he killed both Grace and Anna while they were standing in the pond next to their house, then he drove their car down the road where he left it.”

“And she didn’t call the cops?”

“She claims he gets violent, and she didn’t want to be next.”

“You’re saying that, but your face is saying something different.”

“I don’t believe her. She’s too fucking calm. She told me the story like she was asking me to pick up eggs from the grocery store.” He looks toward the door. “Can I come in there and talk to him for a minute?”

“Yeah.” I open the door, and Tucker steps into the room, where Martinez and Kelly are now just staring at each other in silence.

“Officer Kelly, I’m Detective Beckett.” Tucker holds out his hand, and Kelly takes it. My brother pulls a chair around the table and sits, resting his elbows to his knees and cutting the distance between him and Kelly. “I just left your wife in the room next door.”

“My wife is here?” Kelly asks, looking toward the door.

“She is, and I gotta be honest with you, man. She lawyered up, but not until after telling me that you murdered Anna and Grace.”

“She said that?” His hands resting on top of his thighs clench into fists.

“She did,” Tucker says softly, then continues just as quietly. “I don’t believe her, so I want to give you a chance to tell me your side of the story.”

“Can I talk to her?” Kelly asks, looking alarmed.

“After you talk to me, I’ll bring her in,” Tucker says, and Kelly leans back in his chair, grabbing his hair and fisting it.

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