Page 20 of Little Twisted Things

“I have no idea. Why would anyone even care enough? A lot of people cheat, Detective. But they don’t end up dead. The case you were working on in New York. Were the victims all cheaters?”

“They were,” Detective Walker said. “But I’m afraid that’s all I can say.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Whitmore.”

Alex walked her to the door, and I went back to bed. A few moments later, Alex stepped into the bedroom.

“Who was at the door?” I asked.

“A detective from the NYPD. She wanted to ask me questions about Kevin. She said his murder was similar to a case she was working on in New York.”

“That’s odd,” I said.

“How are you feeling?” He ran his finger down my cheek.

“A little better. I’d love some soup.”

“And soup I shall make you.” He winked. “Oh, by the way. The contractors called me today and said my house will be finished in a couple of days. I can’t wait for you to see it.” He smiled. “I’ll go make your soup.”

Good. That meant he wouldn’t be living here anymore. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy having him around. I did. More than I cared to admit. But somewhere along the way since he’d been here, my house had stopped feeling like mine. His literature books were neatly stacked on the coffee table. His clothes occupied my closet. His shoes were neatly lined up by the front door, and his toiletries were stored in my bathroom. One overnight stay became three. Then it became a week. And another week. Before I knew it, he’d been living here for three months.

I’d missed my own space. I missed the silence. But most of all, I missed not having to think, wondering if I’d slip and say too much. And now having to hide pieces of myself that no one could ever discover. As far as Alex was concerned, I lived in Seattle most of my life. I had to keep up that façade. Loving Alex, or whatever it was I felt for him, didn’t erase who I was. It only made protecting that part of myself more complicated. His moving back into his own house solved that. We’d still see each other. I’d spend the night at his place, and he here. But I needed to be alone. And after everything that had happened recently, alone was exactly where my mind needed to be.

10

“Well, here it is.” Alex grinned, pulling into the driveway of his newly renovated home.

His house sat on a quiet, tree-lined street just a few blocks from the ocean. It wasn’t large, but it had a charm that drew you in before you even reached the porch. His ranch-style home featured crisp white siding accented by charcoal shutters. His landscape was meticulous, with hibiscus, white hydrangeas, and fragrant jasmine you could smell down the street, with a brick walkway leading to the porch.

I climbed out of the car and grabbed the box from the back seat, which housed his new literature books, while Alex grabbed the rest of his things from the trunk.

“It’s lovely so far.” I smiled.

“Wait until you see the inside.” He inserted the key into the lock.

I stepped inside and set the heavy box in the foyer. Sunlight streamed through the oversized windows, giving the wide-plank white oak floors a warm glow. The walls were painted ivory throughout, and large oak bookcases sat on each side of the limestone fireplace, where an 85-inch flatscreen TV sat on the wall above.

“This is really nice, Alex.” I smiled.

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d love it. But I will admit, I’m a little sad.”

“Why?” I turned and looked at him.

“I’ve gotten used to living with you, and now, I’ll be living here.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll still see each other all the time. Probably even more.” I smiled.

“Promise?”

“I definitely promise.” I kissed his lips.

He picked me up and took me into the bedroom where he had his way with me for the next hour. As much as I enjoyed it, I couldn’t wait to go home and be alone.

Detective Walker only spent three days in the Keys and headed back to New York. I was grateful because there wasn’t anything here for her to find. If the opportunity came again, I’d have to be more careful. I couldn’t risk her putting two and two together and coming back here.

Once I arrived back home, I poured a glass of wine and took it out on the patio. I hadn’t seen or heard from Kris since the funeral, and I wondered how she was doing. I stood up and walked over to her house.