Page 11 of Sins of a Husband

“I can’t believe this,” Travis says.

I stare at the TV, my belly tied in knots again. I can’t stop thinking about Brian and the incident. It's a good thing I have an appointment with Dr. Burton on Monday.

Chapter Seven

I’mgiddy with excitement as a black sedan pulls up to the curb. I open the front door and fly down the steps just as Oliver exits the car. The driver gets out, opens the trunk, and pulls out my husband’s suitcase.

“Thank you, sir.” Oliver reaches into his pocket and hands him some cash.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Tate.”

“You as well.” Oliver turns to me and wraps his loving arms around me. I notice a perfume scent on him. It’s the same Joe Malone perfume he bought me.

“You smell like a woman,” I smirk.

“My God, Kat.” He grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and we climbed up the steps. “The woman sitting next to me on the plane bathed in it before boarding.”

“Was she pretty?” My brow arches, stepping into our home.

“She was very attractive for an eighty-year-old woman.” He smiles. “I told her she smelled nice because it made me more eager to hurry home to you. She told me it was herfavorite perfume. Her husband bought it for her, and it’s the only perfume she’s worn for the last fifteen years.”

“I’d say her husband has good taste. Just like someone else I know.” Happiness coursed through me that he was home.

He grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs. “We need to make up for lost time,” a smirk dances on his lips. “I missed you so much, darling.”

“I missed you more.”

For the next hour, we celebrated his return.

“I should go away more often,” he says, running his fingers through my hair.

I lift my head from his shoulder. “No, you shouldn’t.” I press my lips against his. My happy, euphoric feeling quickly dissipates as I stare into his eyes and think about the two men who were brutally murdered this week.

“I don’t know if you heard, but another man was murdered Friday night,” I say.

“What?” His brows furrow. “Who?”

“Another client of the firm’s husband. He was stabbed twenty-two times like the last guy was.”

I never told Oliver how many stab wounds were inflicted on Brian’s body. All he knows is he died of stab wounds.

“That is terrible. Do the police have any suspects yet?”

“Not that I know of.”

It is awful and hits too close to home. What are the chances that Brian and the two other men were stabbed twenty-two times? Not once, not twice, not even ten times. Exactly. Twenty. Two. Times.

“I don’t know what to say. What are the chances that both men were the husbands of two of your firm’s clients?”he asks.

“Carter called just before you got home to inform me of a mandatory meeting at the office tomorrow at 8:00 a.m.,” I say.

“I can tell you’re upset.” His grip around me tightens. “I’m sure it’s just a big coincidence.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” I lay my head on his shoulder.

“As you all have heard,two men, the husbands of two of our clients, were murdered last week,” Dave Reynolds says. “I spoke with the detective handling the case, and she told me they don’t have any leads at all so far.”

And they never will.I silently think to myself.

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