Page 26 of Dead Man's Alibi

Nate & Sam’s House in Marietta

Sam had triedto sleep.She really had.But it just… wasn’t happening, no matter how tired she was.Her brain was whirling in too many circles.Too many thoughts.Too many things todo.And if she didn’t think about what there was todo, she started thinking about what might happen, and unfortunately, her imagination of what-ifs were all very, very bad.

Life had taught her thatmaybe it will all work outnever, in fact, worked out.

She was glad Nate didn’t seem to have the same troubles as she did.He wasn’thimself, certainly, but he seemed able to eat and sleep.She might have felt some kind of resentment over that, but all she seemed to work up was relief.

She wasgladhe didn’t live with this ever-increasing dread.She wasecstatiche had thewrong-headedbelief it would all work out.And she was only a little frustrated that the acting not quite himself was more overguiltthan worry.

After all, if they were both wrecks, someone was bound to make a really bad decision.Sam felt herself constantly on the precipice of driving over to Jake’s house and burning it down.Or at leastthreateningto.

Thatpart of her imagination she didn’t mind indulging in, at first.But if she let herself think about Jake too much—even causing him bodily harm—she got absolutely furious.

She’ddefendedJake Hayes.Called him agood cop.Every interaction with him leading up to the night he’d shown up at their door, he’d either been professional or kind.Never pushy.He’d never made things weird that he’d asked her out and she’d declined.

She’d considered him, if not a friend, a nice acquaintance.A colleague of sorts.

But he’dalwaysbeen an ass around Nate and vice versa.They didn’t like each other, and that had been fine enough.Even now, she could admit it waskind offlattering if a guy was jealous.

But not if that then turned into someone deciding her fiancé was amurder suspect.

Better to think about the case rather than get all worked up over Jake again.She might really find some matches and her keys.

She’d visualized it enough.

So, instead of arson, she curled up on the couch with her laptop and got to work.She’d already spent considerable time looking into Madison Clark, Michael Hyatt’sveryyoung girlfriend and coworker.Michael was in sales.Madison was in marketing.They’d clearly met through work, developed a relationship through work events and travel.

Sam had gotten the basics, but since she couldn’t sleep, she might as well wade into the social media side of things.Because the woman had an account at just about every possible place.And she posteda lot.Sam lost track of time scrolling through every dinner plate picture, every selfie, every shot of twenty-or-so women at some bar or event or another.

Michael popped up a few times, but only in posts that related to work events.Maybe Michael had been happy to divorce his wife, no hard feelings on his part, but from the looks of things, he hadn’t beenflauntinghis affair.Or at least his affair partner hadn’t been.So there’d beensomepart of Michael that had been quite happy to stay marriedandcheat, even if he’d then acted like divorce was A-okay with him.

Madison seemed like a likable enough young woman.Plenty of friends.Plenty of activities.Social media never gave a complete picture of a person, obviously, but the woman certainly didn’t seem to harbor any bitterness or hard feelings against the wife of the man she was seeing.There wasn’t even a vague posting about drama or issues.

If she had any feelings about her boyfriend’s wife, she kept them out of the public sphere.

Sam didn’t know how long she’d been working when she heard footsteps in the hall.Briefly, she wondered if she could somehow toss the laptop and fake being asleep on the couch, but then she’d have to explain why she’d come down here to sleep on the couch.

Nate appeared before she could decide, outlined by the faint glow of the appliance displays that illuminated the hallway between kitchen and living room.No doubt she was outlined by the glow of the computer.All the other lights were off.

He just sighed.A kind of disappointed sigh like a father might when catching his teenager doing something they’d expressly been told not to do.

She really didn’t want to think about her father right now.After crying to Nate the other day, she’d managed to wall that off a bit.Not picture Dad in handcuffs every time she closed her eyes.Not relive every visit to him in jail, promising to get him out no matter how much time had passed.

Or that horrible moment when she’d finally realized that he might not have been a murderer in the beginning, but he’d turned into one.

Nate didn’t say anything.He crossed the room and gestured for her to scoot over so he could sit down where she’d been lying her head.She didn’t say anything, just moved, so that he could sit.

He took the computer off her legs, set it on the table next to him, then pulled her down, so that her head rested in his lap.Sometimes they watched TV or a movie like this, because she always inevitably fell asleep, and he always inevitably stayed awake for the whole thing.

Funny how the tables were turned in the midst of something terrible.

“I wish you’d sleep,” he said, brushing away the hair curled against her cheek.

“I did.A little.”Maybe.“You know it’s hard to shut my mind off when I’m working on something.”

He made a kind of considering noise, no doubt meant to placate rather than because he believed her.But he trailed his fingers through her hair like he so often did when they curled up on the couch together on quiet, lazy evenings.

Sam couldn’t help but wonder what changed between two people in a marriage where one would decide it was better to sneak off with their coworker than sit comfortably on the couch together.What made someone promise—no,vow—to love and cherish forever, then turn around not a decade later and breakallthose promises.