Page 51 of Sins of a Husband

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t tonight.”

“And you can’t stay locked up in that house all the time either,” she says.

“I’m not.” I have to come up with an excuse quickly. “My friend from Rockstead is in town. She just got in today,and I’m showing her around the city. She’s never been to New York.”

“Oh. You didn’t mention you had a friend coming to visit.”

“It was last minute. She heard about Oliver and wanted to be here. She’s only staying a couple of days.”

“Okay. As long as you’re not alone. Let’s do lunch soon.”

“We will. I promise.”

I shove my phone back into my pocket and pull out the small paper I had pushed into it before I left the house. Walking over to the safe, I punch in the number 4266519 and open it, staring at a box inside. Taking it out, I open it and gasp. It contains my jewelry that was stolen when Brian and I were attacked, along with his phone. I keep digging and find Oliver’s phone, which went missing when he was murdered. I throw my hand over my mouth as I realize this is The Widowmaker’s unit.

My legs give out beneath me, and I collapse in front of the safe. The world spins as my body trembles with fear. My gaze lands on a scrap of black fabric peeking out from behind the safe's corner. I reach for it and unwrap it, only to discover that a large chef's knife is inside. Realizing it’s the murder weapon, I drop it, and it thumps against the concrete.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I grabmy bag from the backseat and walk through the doors of The Peninsula.

“Welcome to The Peninsula. How can I help you?”

“I need a room, please.”

“I.D. and credit card,” the older woman behind the desk says.

I pull out both from my wallet and hand it to her.

“How many nights?” she asks.

“Uh, two nights.”

“We have a deluxe suite on the fifteenth floor for two nights.” She smiles.

“That’s fine.”

I just need her to hurry up and give me my room key.

“You’re all set.” She smiles, handing me the keycard. “You’re in suite 1508.”

“Thank you.” I grip the strap on my bag and push the button to the elevator.

I stand in front of the hotel room door, scanning the keycard until I hear the click of the lock unlocking. As I push open the door, I feel a rush of cool air hit my face.Flicking on the light switch by the door, I enter the room and immediately drop my bag and myself onto the king-sized bed. I don’t know what to think about this—the storage unit, the safe, the jewelry, and the knife. The killer led me to his lair, but why?

As I lay on the bed, my stomach growls loudly, reminding me that the only thing I had eaten all day was a yogurt. The thought of food makes me feel nauseous, but I know I need to keep my strength up.

I grab the in-dining menu from the nightstand and look it over. I order a turkey sandwich and fries. While I wait for room service, I jump into the shower and press my hands against the wet marble, letting the hot water soothe my body. After I finish, I wrap myself in the fluffy white robe the hotel provides. The knock at the door startles me.

“Room service,” a man’s voice echoes from the hallway.

I open the door, and he steps inside and sets my food on the small table by the window.

“Thank you.” I hand him some cash for a tip.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your dinner.”

I nibble on the turkey sandwich and barely touch my fries. I can’t stop thinking about that storage unit and safe. I turn on the TV, and the news is on. I watch, waiting for the news of another murder. But there hasn’t been one since Oliver.

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