Page 38 of Sinful Sorrow

“It was a woman, right?” Aubree turns at the back of the elevator and studies me as I step in. “We’re all thinking female?”

I let the doors close and hit the button for the lobby floor. “Why do you say it was a woman?”

“Because women are typically known for the sneakier methods,” Minka says. “Poison, usually.”

“This wasn’t poison, of course,” Aubree adds. “But the sneakiness is still there. The attack itself was confrontational and big, but it wasn’t the killer who held the knife.” She screws up her nose. “You know what I mean? Obviously, the killer—Connor—held the knife. But we’re searching for the person who put it in his hands. We’re labeling that person the killer, too.”

“Yes.” I drop my hands into my pockets and study the pair in front of me. “Connor is killer number one. We’re trying to figure out who killer number two is.”

“Which is apt,” Aubree sniggers. “Number two being the poo. Whoever they are, they’re a sneaky, nasty, potentially avoidant narcissist too cowardly to do these things on their own. So they creep in and place a knife in a kid’s hand and hope for an outcome that suits their narrative.”

“Why do you assume narcissist?”

She cocks one hip and ponders for a moment. “I dunno. I mean, this person was seemingly unhappy with their reality. Maybe it’s the Naomi and Mason are together reality. Or the Naomi and Mason are having a baby. Or Naomi and Mason are in college together now. Moving in together. Making a life together. Or maybe Naomi took this other person’s seat in the lecture halls. Whatever the situation is, something changed for our Number Two. A new status quo he or she—probably she—didn’t like. But he or she—probably she—isn’t overt and loud. They’re a follower who likes their life to cater only to them. They probably don’t deal well with change.”

“There’s been a lot of change these last few months since graduation,” Minka continues. Then she looks at her number two—ironic, really—and gently nods. “You’ve been watching too much crime TV?”

“Reading textbooks, actually. I don’t know if you know, but I don’t have a love life, and you guys prefer to be alone every second night. So I have spare time on my hands.”

“You’ve been studying?”

“I caught a little criminology bug since that other case we ran. Ya know, when the abusive husband was murdered?”

“He was a douchebag, too.” Minka looks past me and grins when the doors slide open, but when she steps forward and I don’t move, her brows shoot high. “Uh… wanna let us out?”

“Finish this first.” I hit the close-door button at my back, then the emergency stop when we’re locked in. “Covert narcissist who liked the status quo. Why?”

“Uhh… because he or she—probably she—was comfortable with how things were,” Aubs offers. “Their life was simple. Predictable, even. Naomi and Mason had been together since forever. Their relationship was the status quo. But dropping a baby into the mix definitely changed things.”

“So someone was mad they were pregnant.” I bring my hand up and roll my bottom lip between my fingers. “They didn’t want him to become a dad. Or they didn’t want her to become a mom. Or maybe they didn’t want her studies to be affected by this change, or?—”

“Not the last one,” Minka inserts. “If this was about preserving and saving Naomi’s education, then they wouldn’t have killed her. They might’ve encouraged her to abort. Or consider adoption. Or they might have sneakily fed her a handful of Plan Bs. They might have tried to break her and Mason up sooner, when they realized how serious they were.”

“So it’s possible this person didn’t care about Naomi,” Aubree continues. “Or the baby. This person cared about Mason. Which,” she shrugs, “could bring us back to ‘Number Two wanted him for herself.’ But it feels weird, considering the length of their relationship.”

“The relationship wasn’t an issue. The killer didn’t mind they were together. But they sure as hell gave a shit when she got pregnant.”

“I think you’ll find that was the trigger,” Minka finishes. “Not going off to college. Not starting in a new school with a new crowd. Not even the fact Naomi and Mason were sexually active. The baby is our crucial factor here.”

“Babies make or break relationships,” Aubree says. “Typically, when they’re not planned, they either break a couple up, or they solidify what was already beginning. Naomi and Mason could have aborted and slowed things down. They could have prioritized their schooling and sport and, ultimately, their relationship. But they kept the pregnancy instead.”

“Talk to her friends,” Minka insists. “They’re gonna know who this was. Maybe they don’t know that they know. But Number Two didn’t come out of thin air. They have lunch with them. Or study with them. Or live near them. You might have already spoken to the killer and not even realized it.”

“Speaking of psycho friends.” Aubree searches the elevator, though of course, there are no spaces for someone to hide in. “Where’d Fifi go? She took off while you were on the phone with Fletch and never came back.”

SERAPHINA

Turn around and go home, Seraphina.

Turn your butt around and stop this madness.

My brain screams. It knows better. Hell, I’ve spent my whole damn life listening to my instincts and surviving the circumstances I’d been placed in against my will. My intuition has always been on target—well, except that one time I called Detective Charlie Fletcher some colorful names and assumed, with venom, his daughter would end up much the same way her mother did.

Not my finest moment. Not a kind thing to think or say.

But my experience with the man, up to that point, included a douchey cop who bedded a new woman each night and spent no time with the little girl he’d created.

All except that one instance, my instincts have been right on the money. So why don’t I listen to them now? Why on earth do I continue to trudge up the stairs of his apartment building when I know, whatever meets me on the other side of his door, will hurt?

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