Page 36 of Rest In Peace

Adam's posture stiffened, the tendons in his neck standing out like steel cables. His hands, once restless, were now planted firmly on the arms of his chair, gripping with white-knuckled force.

"Am I under arrest?" The words sliced through the thick air between us, sharp and sudden.

I leaned back slightly, giving him space, though the distance did little to soften the intensity of our exchange.

"No, Adam," I said evenly. "You're not under arrest."

"Because if I'm not," he continued, a hard edge cutting into his tone, "I'd like you to leave. Now."

"Understood," I replied, my voice steady, betraying none of the curiosity that buzzed in my veins like electricity. "But we both know something isn't right here. You feel it too, don't you?"

His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second before locking back onto mine, a silent battle raging behind them.

"I don't have to listen to this," he muttered, but there was a tremor in his voice, a crack in the armor.

"Of course," I conceded with a slight nod, rising from my seat. My movements were calm and deliberate, a counterpoint to the tension that thrummed through the room. "Just doing my job, Adam."

Adam watched me, the lines of his face etched with a mixture of anger and something that looked suspiciously like fear.

"Adam," I said, my voice cutting through the charged silence. "We both know you're holding back."

He stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, a vein throbbing visibly in his neck. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

"My wife, Nicki, was… she had someone else," Adam's voice broke, shattering the facade of indifference he'd been clinging to. "I found texts on her phone, late-night calls. I confronted her, and she admitted it—said it was Steven."

"Steven?" My question hung between us like an accusation. "Did you confront him too?"

Adam shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "No. What was the point? It was already over, all of it."

"Did you think about revenge?" I probed, watching his face closely.

"Revenge?" He spat out the word like it was poison. His eyes flared with a raw, untamed emotion. "I loved Nicki. Despite everything. But Steven…."

"Did you kill them, Adam?" I asked sharply, seizing the crack in his composure. "Was that your idea of justice?"

His face contorted with rage; his body tensed as if preparing to lunge. "You think I'm a murderer?"

"Someone killed them," I pressed on, unrelenting. "And you just told me you had every reason to hate the man who was with your wife."

"Get out!" Adam's voice was a roar, his hands shaking with the effort to control himself. "I didn't kill anyone!"

"Good motive, though," I murmured, locking eyes with him, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.

Adam's breath was ragged, his chest heaving. "You have nothing on me."

"Maybe," I conceded, maintaining my ground. "But motives matter, Adam. And yours is as clear as day."

I quickly stood up from the couch, feeling my heart racing. Adam's face twisted with anger as he took a step toward me.

"Get out," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "I'm going."

But as I made my way to the door, Adam lunged at me, his arms outstretched. I dodged him, stumbling toward the wall. He tried to grab me again, but I managed to slip past him and run to the exit.

"Stay away from me!" I yelled, my voice shaking with adrenaline.

Adam let out a frustrated scream and slammed the door shut behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and started walking to my car.

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