Page 61 of Sinful Memory

“I have your phone records, Perry. You spent time with Anna the night before she died. Your phone pinged off nearby towers,provingyou were at her home.”

Ghostly white, he drops back into his seat, deflated and a broken-spirited man.

“We have you at the scene of the crime during the hours you claim to have been online with friends. That same alibi you’re trying on for the night of Anna’s murder, already undone for the night before.”

“I didn’t hurt her. I wasn’t at her home the night she was killed.”

“Your alibi fucking sucks.” Fletch shakes his head, disgusted after his own experiences with a cheating spouse. “You cannot prove where you were on the night of her murder. You have motive. You have means. And you had opportunity.”

“That’s the trifecta the DA gets off on,” I taunt. “We don’t have to prove it, Perry. We only have to prove itcouldhave been you.”

“You’re setting me up for something I didn’t do,” he whimpers. “You refuse to look past me, all because she and I have a history.”

“Your history is proof you lie,” Fletch growls. “Your credibility is shot. Your wife can’t even sit on the stand and vouch for your character at this point. She’d look like a fool.”

“Don’t bring her into this. Please,” he breathes. “She deserves better.”

“Better thanyou?” I wonder. “Yeah. I’d say she does. Tell me about your affair with Gina Waters.”

Fletch’s eyes swing across to me in surprise. But I keep my attention on an already exhausted Perry.

He’s not going to practice today. He’s not going anywhere, except maybe a holding cell.

“Gina Waters is both Anna Switzer’s publicistandyours.” I take the next sheet of call logs from the file and place them on the table between us. “Gina’s older than you, Perry. She’s not like Anna. She’s… harder. A hunter, when Anna is more like prey.”

He lowers into his seat and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“Another accident?” I question. “Another ‘oops, I slipped over naked and had sex with someone other than my wife’?”

“I didn’t hurt Anna.” His voice is pathetic and broken. His chant, the only defense he has left. “I swear I didn’t.”

“Maybe Misty did, then?”

Like I knew it would, his head whips up, and his eyes adjust from darkness to rage in the light. “Excuse me?”

“Misty was a scorned woman.” Fletch grabs our metaphorical ball and runs with it. “You cheated on her multiple times. Over multiple months. She gave you chance after chance to make things right and choose your marriage over your side piece. But you just couldn’t control yourself. Like a child who was never taught better, you wanted your toy, and you wanted all the others in the playground, too.”

“Misty was in Tulsa.” He says it, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but his voice isn’t as certain. His heart, not entirely sure of his wife’s innocence. “She was with her sister all week. She only came home yesterday.”

“Shesaysshe was in Tulsa,” I press. “She’s made a habit of getting outta town when you screw up, so this is a normal habit for her now. Your neighbors, if questioned, would automatically say she was with her sister. Her coworkers, if asked, would say the same thing. She has six months of precedence set now, where she can disappear for weeks at a time, and no one checks in on her.”

“No way.” He chews on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “There’s no way she hurt Anna. Besides,” he adds, as though inspiration strikes, “her sister called me a few days ago, blowing up at me for upsetting her baby sister. If Misty wasn’t there, why would she even call me?”

“You’ve already told us they’re best friends,” Fletch says. “Ride or die. These chicks can get wild, ya know? I happen to know several who could kill a man and their friend would clean up the mess and tell no one.”

I glance across at him and raise my brow. Not because he speaks of Minka, but because in his analogy, I’m the ride-or-die chick.

“Women will go to great lengths to help other women,” he continues. “It’s just the way it is. So what makes you think she wouldn’t cover up for her sister?”

“Hell,” I scoff, “maybe you’re next on the list. Misty took Anna out of the picture. You’re on the chopping block next.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Misty’s a good girl. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh shit,” Fletch exclaims. “Maybe Gina’s up next. Misty wants the man, right? But he keeps stacking women up on the side, so she took Anna out. Gina’s in danger now.”

“Gina and I only slept together once,” he snaps. “A year ago,beforeAnna. It was a once-off, dumb thing that was never repeated.”

“Bullshit!” I shove the phone records closer. “She’s blowing up your phone, Perry. Daily! No way was Gina one and done.”

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