The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (best romantic novels to read .txt) 📗

I clench my hands together, preparing for what’s coming. The truth I’ve been trying so hard to hide, even from myself.

‘You know I didn’t mean for her to die, Beth.’

Chapter 54

TOM

Now

Nine days desperately needing to see my wife and that’s all I get.

The door clanks shut behind me, keys rattle as it locks, and I’m left in my cell. Alone again. It was good to have a change of scenery; the visiting hall is the least prison-like area here, if you don’t look too closely.

Once I spotted Beth, though, she was all I could see. The urge to pull her to me, smell her, feel her warm body against mine, was incredible. Overwhelming. So much so, it took me a while to settle, to stop the images penetrating my mind. I wasn’t expecting her to be ecstatic to see me, but I admit, I thought she’d be a little pleased. Not a single thing about her body language – the way she looked at me, spoke to me – showed any hint of that, though.

Why is she withdrawing from me? I don’t understand – it’s like she doesn’t want to help me. I know I let her down – God knows, I should’ve talked to her after the police interview – and I’ve been sweating buckets since my arrest wondering if she’ll accidentally say something to incriminate me. Had I spoken to her when she asked, we could’ve worked out a story between us to tell the detectives. I fucked up, big time.

Of course, some would say that it wasn’t my first fuckup. That killing Katie Williams was.

But those people would be wrong.

Chapter 55

BETH

Now

I’ve come away no closer to knowing why Tom lied to me. He was far more intent on making sure I wouldn’t divulge what I knew to the police than on telling me what he’d been doing on that Tuesday instead of working. Funny how he considered it important I should know about an event that occurred eight years ago, but not what happened just over a week ago.

What is he hiding from me?

I wrap my arms around myself, gently rocking in the driver’s seat, radio on, waiting to feel calm enough to drive home. I wish I hadn’t gone to see him now. It’s strange, but I’d convinced myself I was as shocked as anyone else when he was arrested – and without seeing him, I was able to keep up the illusion, to others and myself. Apart from a few times when the whispers from the nursery mums got to me, I’d mostly been able to hide my knowledge away in the depths of my mind. Self-preservation.

Julia, of course, came worryingly close last night.

I must keep up the charade now, though. I can’t afford to let it slip. Because in everyone else’s eyes, that’ll make me as much of a monster as Tom. I felt awful saying I can’t help him. How can I, if it means telling the police I knew? I can’t risk being implicated in this in any way; I have Poppy to think about. I tried to explain that it doesn’t help his case in the slightest. I think he is hoping, if it comes to it, that me telling the jury how it was all an accident will in some way clear his name; stop him being convicted. He’s not thinking straight. All that will do is categorically confirm that he did kill Katie, accident or not, and that he kept it hidden all these years. Kept her hidden. Never allowed her family and friends to mourn her or bury her. There’s no closure for them. No body to lay to rest.

Tom’s only hope of coming home is to continue to proclaim his innocence and pray for lack of evidence.

And I can’t help with that, either.

My mind drifts back to the day last year. The day that changed everything.

It’d been breakfast time and I’d let Poppy use Tom’s iPad to watch an episode of Moon and Me while I tidied away the dishes. I’d promised him I wouldn’t use it after he caught me the last time but I really needed the extra help today. ‘Come on my little Poppy poppet,’ I’d said, sliding the iPad out of reach of her sticky little fingers. Her face had screwed up in an angry pout and she’d stamped her feet. Terrible twos are real, I remember thinking. It was six thirty and Tom had left only moments before. I’d needed to get a move on as I was laying on a special coffee morning at the pottery café that day to help entice new customers.

I’d been about to close down the iPad, but I’d realised Poppy had managed to access Tom’s emails. I’d hoped she hadn’t accidentally sent some random letters to one of his clients or anything. I scrolled down his inbox, squinting, hoping nothing had been altered, or worse, deleted – cursing under my breath for causing myself undue stress. But it had got worse.

Something on the screen hadn’t looked right.

I’d slowed down the scrolling, confused at the email subject headings.

Then it had hit me. What I was looking at wasn’t Tom’s email account.

I’d stared at it, bewildered. The email account was definitely someone else’s.

My breath had caught, and my heart rate increased two-fold. The name on the account was familiar.

‘Katie Williams.’ Speaking it had felt strange on my tongue.

I didn’t understand. Why had Tom got his ex-girlfriend’s email account on his iPad?

My mobile vibrates in the glove compartment and catapults me back to the present. I’d stuck it in there when I went inside the visiting hall. I open the compartment and reach for it now, and stare at the name displayed on the screen for a moment.

Adam.

I accept the call.

Chapter 56

KATIE

Eight years ago

‘Am I not good enough for you?’ Tom said. His eyes were wide – manic – as he held the mobile inches from Katie’s face.