Page 29 of Sins of a Husband

“Can I see the bottle?”

“It’s on my nightstand upstairs.”

“Hank, go up to the primary bedroom and bring me her bottle of pills. Make sure to put gloves on first before touching it. Mrs. Tate, do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your husband?”

“No! Nobody. Everyone loved Oliver. Excuse me. I’m going to be sick.” I jump up from the couch and run into the half bath.

By the time I was finished, Oliver’s body was being taken out of the house. I fall to the floor, with my back against the wall, covering my mouth while tears stream down my face. I can’t believe this is happening again. My husband, the love of my life and my perfect man, is gone, and he’s never coming back.

“Mrs. Tate, is there somewhere you can stay for a while? Your home is now a crime scene, and you can’t be here. Can I call someone for you?”

I gave her Samantha’s name and number. She was theonly one I could trust. I overhear one of the officers talking to the other detective who showed up with Detective Walker.

“Twenty-two stab wounds. It looks like The Widowmaker strikes again.”

Why? Why would he say something like that? The Widowmaker kills men who cheat on their wives. Oliver didn’t cheat on me. I would know. I would know if my husband was cheating. But then again, I didn’t know Brian was.

“Mrs. Tate, Samantha is on her way,” Detective Walker says. “I still need to ask you some more questions, but I can hold off until your friend arrives.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

DETECTIVE PAIGE WALKER

I pourmyself a cup of coffee and take it to the table. I have some time before I have to leave for the station. My phone rings, and it’s Elijah.

“Morning,” I answer.

“Another husband was murdered.”

“What?” My head falls to the side. “Where?”

“236 East 72ndStreet. Mr. Oliver Tate. The wife found him on the floor in the foyer. The captain wants us there now.”

“I’m on my way.” I end the call, dump my coffee into a to-go cup, grab my purse, and fly out the door.

When I reach the Tate residence, Mrs. Tate falls into my arms, sobbing so hard that I try my best to calm her down. But I suppose I would act the same way if I found my husband lying on the floor, murdered. Not that I’m married. But if I were, I’m sure my reaction would be the same.

I guide her to the couch and instruct Hank, another officer, to stay by her side. I slip on a pair of latex gloves and approach Mr. Tate's lifeless body sprawled outon the floor. My eyes take in the scene—his shirt is completely unbuttoned, revealing multiple stab wounds across his chest and abdomen. I count them. Twenty-two. Twenty-two knife wounds like the others.

“Did you ask her if he was cheating?” Elijah speaks softly so Mrs. Tate doesn’t hear.

“No. Not yet. Look at her. She’s a wreck. That question will have to wait.”

“Detective Walker, the lock on the front door is broken. It looks like a break-in.”

“I wish it were that simple.” I sigh.

“Do you think she did it?” Elijah asks.

“Really?” I cock my head. “Look at her? She is shaken to the core. I’ve seen some good acting in my career, and she’s not acting.”

After speaking with Mrs. Tate, she runs to the bathroom. When she returns, I tell her that her friend is on the way.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask. “Perhaps a glass of water?”

She shakes her head and doesn’t say a word.

“Where is she?” I hear a woman’s voice at the door.

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