Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“You had no choice.”
“No. I didn’t,” he agreed with me. “I took an oath.”
But it was more than that. It was how he was made.
“She had me look at pictures on her tablet, and I recognized the woman in the fourth one.”
Oh no. No, no, no.
“And I didn’t want to say anything, and I felt like shit doing it, because all it was gonna do was put the focus where it shouldn’t be, on him, when they needed to be out looking for whoever murdered his family, but…he just wasn’t right.”
“You were a police detective before you were a marshal, Sam. You have to go with your gut, and if something doesn’t make sense, you have to say.”
“Detective Reyes, she brought the woman in. She’s been here since January. She lives in California, and she’s a marketing exec, and she’s leaving in November to move back home because her job is done,” he explained, his voice flat, robotic, like he was reciting.
“And what else?”
“She thought Vince was moving to California with her because they’re engaged.”
I said the only thing I could think of. “How?”
“Because they’ve been a relationship since before I saw them out together.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She’s away from home, away from her friends, and there’s Covid, so no one’s going out, no one’s seeing anybody. She’s at her office and home. He’s at the hospital or with her at her place, so she tells the detective. There’s none of her friends meeting him, or his meeting her. There’s nothing. It’s like a vacuum.”
The betrayal was monstrous.
“He gave her a ring, but I guess, when she took it off today, that was it. No more lies.”
I took a breath. “What really happened to his family?”
He glanced away.
“Sam.”
He turned back and wet his lips like his mouth was dry. “It’s probably on the news by now, but he killed them. All three.”
My husband was utterly bereft.
“They found the dog in a shelter in Downer’s Grove. He was shot.”
“Okay.”
“They can figure out the timeline from when the dog was found, and work back.”
These were the facts; he was giving me the rundown of a crime now.
“Diane’s sister is gonna take the dog.”
“That’s good.”
He took a breath. “His son was eighteen. His daughter was fifteen.”
And it all snapped together just like that.
“Reyes said they were all in the same grave. They think he shot the dog because the dog attacked him. He has a healing bite on his leg.”
I had no idea what to say.
“His son was shot at close range, which makes sense since he was strong like…”
Kola.
It was easy to fill in the blank.
Sam was grieving for Diane, the kids, even the dog, who had tried to save his family. He was hurting for the part he’d played, and the brother-in-arms he’d lost. Because the man Vince Wilson was now, was not the man Sam had served with and called friend.
“Diane was shot close too, but they think his daughter fought. She was the only one that was bruised, and she was shot in the back, like maybe…you know, probably…she was running.”
I didn’t need to hear any more. Between Vince Wilson having doting parents, sisters, kids…he and Sam had all the same people in their lives. Diane was a wife, I was a husband, but we were significant others, and it was all far too similar for Sam.
His gaze locked with mine. “If I ever stopped loving you, I would go,” he whispered. “We would get a divorce and…I would never…I could never…”
I leaned into him, my arms wrapped tight around his neck, and just held on until I heard the catch of breath, felt him shiver against me, and then, finally, the heave of quiet muffled sobs as he wrapped me up.
“Sam Kage,” I said with a sigh, “you could never hurt me, or your kids, or even your annoying dog or psychotic cat. Not ever. It’s not how you’re made.”
He held me tighter.
“You’re not this man, even though you were in combat together and you were close and your life experiences, to a point, are similar.”
He gave me a squeeze and then let me go, his hands resting on my thighs.
“If I came home and told you I was leaving you, and I’d been having an affair and God knows what else, you would be devastated and disappointed and broken down deep, but even then, in that horrific moment, you wouldn’t hurt me. I doubt you’d be able to even look at me.”
His voice was guttural. “Don’t ever do that, all right?”
“No, honey, you don’t have to worry. I love you more every day.”
Quick nod.
“And you’re the same,” I said, smiling at him through my own sudden tears. “I know it. I see it when you look at me, when you touch me, and when you hold me down in bed.”