Page 10 of See How They Hide

Last year, Sloane had taken an undercover assignment for Matt and done an exemplary job under difficult circumstances. She’d earned Matt’s respect with her professionalism and intelligence, and after consulting with his own boss, Tony Greer, he’d extended her an offer to join his team. Sloane was not only smart and disciplined after twelve years in the Marines, but also commanded respect among those who worked with her.

Evelyn Benson answered the door. Robert’s widow was a tall, slender woman a few years older than her dead husband. Her long gray hair was neatly braided down her back. Her crystal clear blue eyes were intelligent and questioning, and her face was devoid of make-up. She seemed to have aged in the week since Matt spoke to her.

“Agent... Costa,” she said after a beat, as if she’d forgotten his name.

“Mrs. Benson. Thank you for making time to speak with us again.”

“Do you know...who killed...” Her voice trailed off as if she didn’t want to know the answer. She touched the simple gold cross hanging around her neck.

“May we come in?” Matt asked.

“Oh...yes. Of course.” She opened the door wider and Matt and Sloane stepped in. They’d been there before—the house was comfortable, clean, and cluttered with antique furniture, walls covered with elaborate wallpaper, and tables topped with doilies and delicate lamps. A house that Matt could see an elderly couple living in, not the middle-aged Bensons.

“Can I... Would you like coffee? Tea?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Matt said. He motioned to the dining room off the entry. “Can we sit and talk for a few minutes?” No matter how many times he’d interviewed survivors, it was never easy.

Mrs. Benson nodded and sat on the edge of one of the chairs, as if ready to jump up and bolt at any moment.

The house was immaculate and too warm for comfort, even against the outside cold. Though technically spring, Virginia was still in the throes of winter, snow slowly melting under trees and flowers not ready to bloom.

“How are you holding up, Mrs. Benson?” Sloane asked gently.

Evelyn shook her head. “I wake up and think Robert is in the kitchen. He always rose first, would make coffee, feed the chickens, collect their eggs. He loved mornings. It’s why—I didn’t think twice when he wasn’t in bed Sunday morning.”

She took a deep breath. “I miss Robert. I never thought I’d marry. But he walked into church one Sunday and I just knew. These have been the happiest ten years of my life.” Her voice cracked at the end. “I wish I knew why someone would hurt him. Robert was the kindest man I have ever known. He never raised his voice, he treated me like...like I was precious, like I was a gift. He told me that once, that I was a gift from God who gave him a new life.”

Now the tears came and she brushed them away. “People from church, from town, come by every day, bring me food, talk. I listen, shoo them away after a while. I can only take people in small doses. I see the pity. I don’t want pity. I want Robert back.”

She steadied herself, looked directly at Matt with a damp, steady gaze. “You said you had questions.”

“We know this is a difficult time, but it’s important,” Matt said. “You’ve been married for ten years, correct?”

She nodded. “Ten years last December.”

“And you met a year before that?”

“Yes. I honestly don’t think there was more than a day or two that we didn’t see each other after we first met. We knew.”

“Where is Robert from originally? Does he have family?”

“He was born in Colorado, but he told me he had a difficult childhood and didn’t have any family.”

Colorado. It was a tenuous link between Jane Merrifield and Robert Benson, but it was a link.

“Do you know where in Colorado?” Matt asked.

She shook her head. “He never told me.”

“What did he do for a living before he came here?”

“He was an accountant.”

“Do you know who he worked for?”

“Why is this important?” she asked.

“Your husband had no known enemies,” Matt said. “Everyone we’ve spoken with had only good things to say, confirmed that you and Robert had a good marriage. So we need to look to the time before he came to town.”

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