Our Wicked Lies by Gledé Kabongo (story read aloud TXT) 📗

“What?”

“She suffered a concussion at the back of her head.”

“Could they tell how long ago it happened?”

“I hate to say this, Eliot, but it sounds like this was a tragic accident. She got drunk, lost her balance, and fell. Most non-athletic concussions are caused by falls. The latest one proved fatal.”

“Both injuries were around the same area then?”

“It appears so.”

Was it really that simple? A tragic accident ended the life of the woman with whom he’d betrayed his wife? He still hadn’t gotten over Alicia’s confession that she suffered from depression years ago and had hidden it from him. Could Kat’s death and everything leading up to it cause Alicia to relapse?

“Thanks, Delia. That’s all great,” he said absentmindedly as he turned toward the window again. He needed to be alone. “Keep me updated on any new developments.”

After Delia left his office, he removed his suit jacket, ripped off his tie, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. His forehead and neck were sweating. Why was it suddenly so hot in here? His eyes lingered on the family photo on his desk.

Everything he had to lose was right there in that image. Katalina’s death had blindsided him and continued to do so with these latest revelations. She had never shared with him that she was depressed. Was that why McBride had brought up the subject during the interview at the house? He shook off the thought. No, the autopsy had not yet been completed, so McBride couldn’t have known.

People didn’t take anti-depressants and sleeping pills and drink excessively when their lives were rosy. She was still the same stubborn, fierce, and proud woman he had come to know. But what if it was all an act for his benefit? Her troubles with Maxim aside, what was she trying to escape, and how did she get that concussion?

He picked up his phone. There were two messages from his anonymous texter.

Unknown: You have nothing to say? I suggest you respond before I tell the police what I know. You should fry for this.

He would poke the bear. The sender had mentioned him by name in the first text. No point in pretending it was a mistake.

Eliot: I have no idea who you are or why you’re spewing these outlandish accusations at me. I can only assume you’re mentally deranged.

He waited as the three dots bobbed up and down.

Unknown: Tell your wife the truth about you and the deceased Mrs. DeLuca, what you’ve been hiding from her. That’s for starters. You do that, then I’ll tell you what I’m after. And do it quickly before the police come sniffing around.

He would ignore the warning for now. Right now, his priority was protecting Alicia and himself. He had a sinking feeling McBride would not accept the findings at face value.

CHAPTER 47

“McBride is just fishing,” Eliot told Alicia. “There is no evidence of foul play, but he wants to be sure. Don’t panic. You have done nothing wrong. Don’t answer questions that aren’t asked, and don’t elaborate on anything.”

Alicia cradled her coffee mug and squeezed her eyes shut. Her emotions ran amuck. Despite the current crises, they still continued their morning routine. This time, they sat on the patio. They couldn’t risk the girls sauntering into the kitchen and catching wind of their conversation.

Detective McBride’s call came in fifteen minutes ago, before she even had a chance to brew fresh coffee. The call had rattled her. He said an employee from Kat’s agency had reported that the two women had engaged in a vicious falling out right before Kat died. He wanted to get her statement about the incident.

They’d scheduled the interview for eleven o’clock. It was seven forty-five and there was still a lot they needed to get through. Eliot didn’t want to raise unnecessary red flags by having her walk into an interview room with a lawyer. The goal was to walk in, answer the questions, and put it behind her.

Eliot said, “He’ll want to know what the fight with Katalina was about. Her assistant who came forward didn’t hear the conversation between you two, so that helps us. He only saw the aftermath, Katalina on the ground after you pushed her, so he can’t even prove anything because he didn’t witness the incident.”

She nodded slowly, then took a sip of her coffee. It was a lot to take in. She cast a glance across their large, scenic backyard, flanked by hundred-year-old oak trees. The only sound that permeated the sunlit morning was the systematic shhh-tik-tik-tik sound of the sprinklers.

The mundane suburban existence she had so cherished as the antithesis of the chaos of her inner-city upbringing now rung hollow. Her life had taken a sharp turn and was now skidding across the highway and heading into a ditch. Who would help her out of it? For all his talk, it was most certainly not going to be the husband who had betrayed her.

He frowned, as if contemplating something life-changing. Then he said, “Tell McBride the truth. That I admitted the affair after you found proof. That would be the emails back and forth when she posed as Faith. You went to her office. Things got heated. You lost your temper. They’ll have confiscated her computer and phone and will be going through everything, so there is no point in hiding it. Our goal is to stay consistent with what they know, so we come out looking truthful, with nothing to hide.”

There was something else. She could sense it, the way he kept fiddling with his tie, his gaze ping-ponging around the back yard. “What is it?” she asked.

“I received an anonymous text message from someone accusing me of killing Katalina.”

“Did you now?” The question popped out of her mouth without permission. She didn’t mean to be so flippant about such a serious matter. She knew Eliot wasn’t a murderer, but the depth of his deception had shaken her