DON SAT BEHIND THE CHERRY wooden desk of his office, inside his private investigator firm. Seemingly pensive, he peered over the square frames of his black glasses at Richmond. Round, chubby jaws, double chin, scraggly brown hair, Don appeared on edge.
“You’re not going to like this.” Steepling his fingers, his lips set in a straight line and he leaned forward.
Sitting in the leather chair across from Don’s desk, Richmond crossed his legs at the knees. “Nothing you can say will surprise me, Don. Tell me, what have you found pertaining to Salina’s death?” Never in a million years did I think I’d have to hire a private investigator to find my wife’s killer. Damn police, ain’t worth a dime. A freaking nickel. Hell, they ain’t worth a penny.
Wariness developed in Don’s eyes. “Salina bought a prepaid cell phone ten weeks before her death.”
Shocked, Richmond uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. Putting his elbows up on his knees, he clasped his fingers. “She could barely walk. Are you sure about this, Don?”
“Positive. Take a look for yourself.” Don turned his desktop computer adjacent toward Richmond. Cupping the mouse, he dragged the cursor over the screen and clicked the play button on the video.
Richmond’s eyes zoned in on the screen as he carefully studied Salina’s activity unfolding before him.
Salina steered her silver 5 Series BMW into the vacant parking lot at a store fifteen miles from their home and exited the car. Gripping the handle of her cane, looking pale and frail, she staggered across the pavement toward the front of the store.
Struggling to walk and bent over, her spine hunched, her legs wobbled. Wind tousled the ends of her hair upward. God, she was so beautiful, even while sick. When she touched the door handle, a young teenage kid burst outdoors from the store, knocking her to the ground. Treating her as an invalid, the dumb kid kept going; never once did he look back or try to help Salina.
Using what little strength she had, Salina pushed herself into a standing position and entered the store. She went over to the section where the prepaid cells were and grabbed one. After she handed the cashier cash, she got in her car and left.
“Whew.” Blown away, Richmond settled back into the chair. “Why on Earth would Salina need a prepaid cell? She had a cell phone she never used.” Was she having an affair?
Don scratched his head. “I hate making assumptions, but every fiber in my being tells me Salina knew her killer, and she purchased the prepaid cell to contact him. That’ll explain why the police didn’t find any evidence of breaking and entering. Whoever the man was that killed your wife, I suspect Salina knew him, and she let him inside the house the night she was murdered.”
Betrayal sliced Richmond’s heart in half. Imagining the unbearable, his throat went dry. His deceased wife had gone through grave measures to get the prepaid cell. To keep it hidden from him. Her actions all pointed to one thing—Salina was having an affair. But for how long? Years? Months? Richmond cursed. He banged his fist into the armrest.
Pain rushed to his temples. Disgusted, he hopped to his feet. Pacing the floor back and forth, he slid his hands deep into his pockets. He stopped in his tracks. “Who was she calling?”
Don shrugged. “Now that, I don’t know yet.”
Richmond flattened his palms on Don’s desk, leaned into him, and clenched his teeth. “Find. Him. When you do, don’t tell a soul but me.”
Don scooted back his chair and stood to meet Richmond’s glare. “What do you plan on doing to him once I find him?”
Kill him. “Let me worry about that.” Richmond turned on his heels and walked out Don’s office, feeling drained. Like shit. Like his entire marriage had been a fucking lie. He thought he and Salina didn’t keep secrets. Thought they told each other everything. Well, at least he’d practiced honesty and had shared everything with her. Too bad she didn’t respect him enough to do the same thing as him.
As Richmond stood in front of the elevator waiting for the ride, disappointment about his marriage to Salina made his heart bleed. Made the pumping organ hurt like hell. Twisting his lips, despair engulfed him. Threatened to make him cry. But crying, now that he wasn’t going to do. Real men didn’t cry.
Flinching, he eased his hands inside his pockets.
Salina, how could you keep a secret from me? You betrayed me.
The elevators slid open, and a somber Richmond stepped inside. If she was having an affair, it had to be way before the illness disabled her physically. Resting his head on the wall, the elevator doors slid closed.