Stuck at a traffic light five minutes from Matt’s office, Kate donned her wig, carefully tucking her blonde ponytail underneath it. Never had she thought having fairly thin hair would be an advantage, but today’s dress-up had proven her wrong. Temporarily adjusting the rearview mirror to look at herself while traffic around her remained at a standstill, she made sure none of her hair stuck out around the pixie brown ’do. Everything looked great. She put on her sunglasses.
I don’t look too bad as a brunette!
The traffic began moving, so Kate readjusted her mirror and drove on until she found a parking spot with a clear view of Matt’s office’s front door. She looked at the time: 3:25 p.m.
Kate knew she could be here for anywhere from five to ninety-five minutes. Matt’s sales team sometimes had meetings at the end of the day, so his office hours ended either at 3:30 or 5:00. And, with the universe still on her side, Kate smiled as she watched her cheating husband walk out onto the sidewalk and head to the parking lot next to his building. Kate noted how handsome he looked in his jeans and navy sport coat. He walked confidently, but looked left and right, as though checking to see if someone was around.
“Something to hide, Matt?” she asked aloud in the privacy of her borrowed car.
His red Toyota pulled out of the lot but did not turn in the direction of their home.
“Where are you going?”
Kate started the engine, ready to trail him to wherever he was headed.
He continued driving straight for another twenty minutes, and Kate followed five cars behind him. Then, she saw him signal left, but he wasn’t veering onto a road. He was turning in a motel parking lot, and not the most expensive place, by the looks of it.
Should I be thankful he hasn’t been taking his mistress out to the Ritz-Carlton?
Although her heart stung, she knew she had to see it through. It was the only way she could quiet the doubts in her mind, the only way she’d ascertain she was making the right decision. But she also knew she couldn’t follow him into that lot.
Too small. Not enough coverage.
So, she signaled, changed lanes, and passed the entrance. Kate spotted a fast-food restaurant and turned right. She found a parking spot that offered a good angle of her husband’s vehicle across the road.
She turned off the ignition and something fluttered in her stomach. Through her binoculars, she saw Matt still sitting behind the wheel, eyes on his cellphone, right hand typing away.
Texting Sam that he’s here? Why else would he be in a motel lot?
Kate scanned the rest of the cars parked near Matt. Nobody else seemed to be waiting in their vehicle, so she returned her attention to her husband’s car.
He had stepped out and was locking the doors, the lights blinking as he did. He headed toward the motel doors that ran parallel to the road behind the lot. A brown door numbered twenty-two opened, and a busty woman appeared in the doorframe in nothing but hot-pink sheer underwear. Not only did she have at least D-size cups, but she also had legs that went up to her armpits.
Kate immediately recognized her as one of the two blonde women from the salon.
Kate’s stomach butterflies turned into sharp knives.
So, he’s the one who ripped a page from my notepad. Stupid ass. And lying son of a bitch!
“I’ll end it today,” Kate muttered under her breath, repeating the false promise Matt had made earlier in the week.
He approached the blonde bimbo, wrapped his arms around her bare waist, and then kissed her. His gesture was no peck on the cheek either.
Kate couldn’t recall the last time he’d kissed her like that.
The pain in her stomach pulsed into her entire body. While her heart thumped hard, her eyes, miraculously, remained dry.
He’d lied to her the last time they’d spoken, even if his words and manner had seemed so earnest. Fucking liar.
She inhaled deeply, and then stepped out of her vehicle, intent on knocking on their door to catch them red-handed so he could feel the shame of his behavior, possibly get a glimpse of the hurtful sting that resonated throughout Kate’s entire body and heart.
But as she waited for the traffic light to turn red, so she could cross, doubts entered her mind again.
Fuck it!
She crossed the road accompanied by a few honks from cars she’d surprised. She approached the door, her fists tight, ready to expose him. She brought her right arm up, ready to bang on the door, but then realized she couldn’t.
Matt would probably deny anything happening unless she caught them in the act—not before and not after but during.
She lowered her arm. Through the door, she could hear them giggling. She could hear the bimbo’s excited yelps and furniture being knocked out of place.
The walls were paper thin. She’d get a better chance at finding out the truth if she patiently waited for them to be done. So, she headed to the reception area instead, making a note of the neighboring room.
“Could I rent room twenty-three?” she asked as a bell rang above the front door.
The bald, large-bellied man looked up from the newspaper he was holding. “Why that one?”
“Lucky number,” she replied with a flirtatious smile. “Is it available?”
The man turned around to look at the rows of keys hanging on the wall behind him. “Yup. How many hours?”
Kate didn’t have a clue. “How much per hour?”
The man pointed to a small cardboard sign at the end of the counter. Kate dug her wallet out and forked out enough money to cover two hours then said she’d be back if she needed to stay longer.
The man handed her the key along with a registration card that she filled out under a fake name and address.
With the large keychain in hand and any remains of her pride lost weeks ago, she walked to her shady motel room.
She unlocked and cracked open the door and was pleasantly surprised. Sure, it was a shit-hole, but the place was better than she expected for the hourly rate. Old, worn-out brown carpet with unknown stains and cigarette burns every foot or so covered the floor, which matched the beige and brown bed comforter. She didn’t want to go anywhere near it. Kate was certain a black light would reveal too many unsightly fluid discharges. But at least it looked as though the bed had clean sheets. The pillowcases even displayed the crease where they used to be folded.
Kate dragged the room’s only chair—a wobbly item—against the wall the room shared with its neighboring unit, the room where her husband had disappeared with the large-breasted Sam.
As expected, grunts, squeaky mattress springs, and heavy breathing reached her ears. And this time she released a stream of silent tears. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Even though her mind ordered her to stand up and storm into their room right away, her body simply couldn’t, as though paralyzed. By what, she couldn’t say, but it was one thing to imagine Matt cheating on her; it was another to hear it happen in real time through a crappy motel wall.
When she reopened her eyes a short while later, their grunts still resonating behind her, she stared down at her wedding ring. Having partially overcome whatever had frozen her entire body, Kate slipped her ring off her finger and threw it across the motel room before burying her head in her hands and starting to sob again. The pain of hearing them had somehow drained all of her strengths. Her original intentions to storm in and confront them gone like dust in the wind.
As their lovemaking came to an end—crowned by Sam’s high-pitched squeals and deity calls—so did Kate’s tears.
Kate wished for a mini-bar. She knew she’d empty it. But the room was too crummy for that.
Then she saw her ring on the other side of the room, and her harsh financial reality told her she needed to keep it. Not for its sentimental value, but to sell it for cold, hard cash.
As she returned to her chair and placed the ring of broken promises in her pants pocket, Kate heard them begin what she assumed was their pillow talk. Their words were h
eard so clearly through the paper-thin walls that she could totally picture them naked next to each other in a room identical to hers.
“So, tell me, Matt. Did she buy it?” Sam asked.
“What?”
“Does she think we’re over?”
“I haven’t seen her yet,” her husband’s voice said through the wall. “We’re supposed to meet tomorrow. I’ll know then.”
“And what about the money?”
“That? Don’t worry, dear. It’s been taken care of.”
What money? What the fuck are you up to, Matt?
“I’m pretty sure she’ll come back tomorrow and beg me to let her keep her job. I’ve got a plan.”
“Run it by me.”
“It’s simple. I’ll beg and plead, then I’ll compromise, as long as she switches to desk duty. After some back and forth, she’ll agree to it. I mean, after the beating she got? I sure as hell can’t see her wanting to go back to active duty.”
Oh, Matt. How little you know me. If anything, the beating only increased my drive to make the city safer for everyone.
“So,” Matt continued, “she’ll keep her job, and continue bringing home that paycheck. More money for us!”
“You know, you should have married someone who made a lot more money. And someone who wasn’t as strong-minded. It would’ve made things so much easier for us.”
“I’m pretty sure her uncle will croak soon. No more money leaking his way, and she’ll inherit his house. I’ll flip it.”
“You’re so baaaad,” she started before giggles took over.
And although the sounds traveling through the wall made it clear they’d once again started making out, Kate stayed put, part of her unable to move from the shock of her newfound knowledge while the other part simply needed to know the whole story.
“You’re almost perfect for me, you know?” Sam said.
“That’s where you’re wrong, darling. I am perfect for you. High school sweethearts reunited after all these years…”
“But why won’t you leave her for me then? If we’re perfect, what’s keeping you attached to her?”
“Sam, baby. You know how I feel about divorce. And you know I want babies.”
“That’s no fair. If you left her, we could be happy together. Just you and me. I’d leave my husband in a heartbeat for you.”
“Kate’s got fertile eggs.”
“She may be fertile, but she’s gullible, too! You’ve made time for me almost every day since we reconnected. Did I mention how much I love you?”
“Not as much as I love you.”
Kate didn’t know if she wanted to puke or simply die. All of her energy went into staying quiet. Her entire body shook. Her fingernails had started drawing blood from her tight fists.
“I saw her the other day, you know?” Sam said.
“What? When? Why didn’t you say anything?” Matt’s voice rose.
“Don’t worry, dear. Relax. She must have been called to do something near the salon. I didn’t talk to her. I recognized her from the wedding photo in your living room.”
“I don’t like the idea of you and her together. Even if you didn’t talk to her.”
“You certainly picked the small, sporty model! I thought you liked my curves. It made me wonder what you originally saw in her.”
“You know how much I love your humongous tits, babe. But Kate’s the one I connected with. For some reason, she bonded with my orphan story.”
“Yeah. Proving my point exactly. Gullible as hell. How’s your dad, by the way?”
With her hand covering her muted cries, Kate ran from the room. She didn’t bother to close the door or return the key, which she’d tossed on the bed.
Zigzagging her way through the traffic—this time not waiting until cars slowed down—she ran back to her neighbor’s Cadillac.
She’d been fooled by a low-level conman for years?
Four fucking years!
And what fucking money were they talking about?
She wiped the tears from her eyes and started the engine, eager to find the closest ATM. If only she’d upgraded her data plan on her new phone… She could have checked the balance there…
But five minutes later, she spotted her bank’s logo on an illuminated sign on the side of the road, so she veered off and headed toward the entrance.
After waiting in line behind an elderly woman for what seemed like an eternity, Kate finally got her turn at the machine.
She stepped forward the instant the woman had cleared the space. Kate slid her card in, entered her PIN, and then braced herself as she pressed the button to see the balance on their joint account, the one that supposedly held their down payment for a house she now knew they were never going to get.
A second later, the screen displayed a number that made her punch the machine and yelp out in pain:
$18.02
She printed out a receipt, just so she’d have proof, then drove herself to the police station, her eyes shiny and crimson from crying, but she couldn’t care less anymore. The bastard needed to get arrested. And she sure as hell didn’t want to be the one doing it.
Her two-timing con husband was the one person she didn’t want to see ever again.
Chapter Eleven
After a full forty-eight hours spent in bed feeling sorry for herself and swearing at her gullibility, Kenny convinced her to leave the house and get some fresh air.
“It’ll do you good.”
Kate knew her uncle was right, but she upgraded her phone plan first, just so she’d have access to the Internet while he’d temporarily booted her out of the house.
She decided to head toward Jamaica Pond and take in the serene atmosphere of nature for a change. If only the department had cleared her for work… Patrol would help take her mind off of Matt.
But ducks would have to do for today.
Even though every couple that walked by caused a pinch in her heart, she pushed through. She walked until she came to a bench that was unoccupied.
She sat. She inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to allow tears to come out once more.
Her eyes lingered on the pond that stretched in front of her. Off to one side, the path continued, with a few people feeding ducks about a hundred yards away.
Ducks. These ones had obviously been lucky enough to have been spared by the animal killer, whoever he was.
Weren’t ducks fortunate creatures? They didn’t have to deal with heartbreaks and deception. But who knows… Maybe ducks had relationships, too. Kate had no idea.
She let her gaze rest on one particularly brave duck who was making its way toward a man holding a large piece of food.
From where she sat, Kate couldn’t tell if it was bread or something else, but it was definitely large for a breadcrumb. Then she wondered why the man wore gloves. It wasn’t cold at all.
Then she noticed the red shoes he wore.
I’ve seen those shoes before.
But the man’s face wasn’t visible from where Kate sat. She could, however, see his blond hair. Although he was hunched over, she’d guess he was around six-feet tall. Based on how his clothes hung off of him, with the loose fabric of his sleeves flapping in the wind, the man was scrawny.
When a memory flashed through her mind, she pulled out her phone, found Johnston among her contacts, and sent him a message:
The video from your son with dead pigeons.
Can you forward it to me?
A minute later, her phone beeped.
She watched the clip and saw bright red shoes. Although she couldn’t tell for sure the shoes were the same from this far away, how many people wore red freaking shoes nowadays?
Then she remembered the dead cat and the chubby woman who’d called 9-1-1 instead of 3-1-1. Among the group of bystanders that had gathered around the cat… That’s where she’d seen him before. That’s where she’d seen Scott!
Kate knew fair well that killers and other sociopaths often revisited crime scenes.
Scott had stuck around. With the pigeons, and with the cat.
Could it be?
Then Kate shook her head. She had no real evidence. Red shoes and wrong place at the wrong time. Coincidences.
But then she thought of the animal shelter. She looked through her call history, found the number, and waited as the ringtone sounded again and again. Finally, someone answered.
“Hi, this is going to sound strange, but could you tell me if you’ve noticed an increase in the number of deaths at the MSPCA?”
“Who’s this?” the receptionist asked.
“My name’s Kate Murphy.”
“Are you with the press?”
“No, no. I just want to know, out of curiosity.”
“I’m afraid I can’t answer this question, but if you leave your name and number, I can have someone call you back.”
Kate did just that, all the while thinking that the receptionist’s answer was a cover-up until a trained PR person could answer it without incriminating anyone. So, Kate read the response as a “more than likely.”
In the distance, the brave duck reached Scott and snapped the food offering into its beak before taking it down to the ground. The morsel was big but obviously tasty based on how intently the duck ate it.
The duck’s head bobbed strangely as it finally swallowed the bite then walked back toward the pond and its feathered mates.
A nearby boy who’d seen the exchange between Scott and the duck approached Scott.
Probably wants to feed the ducks, too.
Kate was pretty sure the MSPCA wouldn’t call her back right away, but she couldn’t resist following up on her suspicions.
It could be.
What if?
Her thumb flew across the screen as she researched what the animal missing from the pet store was. After Google reported that blue kraits were striped snakes from Malaysia, she looked into the effects of their venom. Then she googled tarantula bites.
Fucker.
While she had no idea if the man owned a gun, he certainly had access to the venom. And with his experience handling exotic snakes and spiders, he probably knew how to extract it. He could have stolen those animals. Then it was just a matter of putting the venom into food.
The Last Lies (Kate Murphy Mystery Book 1) Page 14