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

Two dead women; two families unaware of the truth. I should’ve reported what I’d found out immediately, but Tom is so good at twisting things, manipulating me, making me feel it would be my fault if our lives fell apart. My fault if Poppy ended up being without a father. And … well, he can be … aggressive sometimes. I was too afraid I’d become his third victim. I couldn’t risk it for Poppy’s sake.’

Imogen frowns and I wonder if she’s trying to reconcile this information with the picture I previously painted of my perfect marriage. I’d worried this might be the case. But then her face softens. I think she accepts that this happens with people in abusive relationships; she’s bound to have seen it many times before.

‘Where is this sweatshirt? We didn’t find anything like that in the search of your property.’

‘I told Tom I was taking it to burn. I have it in the storage space in the loft of Poppy’s Place. I can get it for you.’

‘Good, yes. And with this new information and evidence linking Tom to Phoebe, we’ll reopen the case and charge him with her murder too. It’ll definitely help when it comes to the trial.’ Cooper’s cheeks fill with air and she blows it out in a slow hiss. And, almost under her breath she says, ‘Of course, Katie’s body would be even better.’

Chapter 68

TOM

Now

Maxwell tells me new evidence has come to light.

He says it’s come from Beth.

I shake my head violently from side to side – my brain feels as though it’s crashing against my skull. If I do this for long enough, maybe I’ll faint, or give myself a brain haemorrhage. It’s the only way I’ll get out of here now.

‘Tom, no! Stop!’ Maxwell’s words sound strangely distorted in my head.

Hands are on my shoulders. ‘Come on, fella – relax.’ The prison officer’s voice is calm. I recognise it; he’s from my wing. Another officer strides across from the hall – backup in case I get out of hand. I haven’t the energy to put up any kind of fight.

‘Maybe this legal visit should continue another day?’ the second officer says. I’m vaguely aware of Maxwell rising from his seat and speaking in a low voice. He’s likely telling them I’ve had bad news, to keep an eye on me.

Put me on suicide watch.

Yes, I want to shout – put me on suicide watch because my fucking wife has just betrayed me. Has she found out? Is that why she’s decided to go against me now? I trusted her. She said she’d stand by me; she knew it was only an accident. Knew I hadn’t meant to harm them.

But I did. I did mean to hurt them. And although Beth believed me when I said otherwise, there’s a possibility that something she’s found out has changed her mind. About the supposed accidents. About me.

I slam my fists against my temples. Again and again.

I don’t believe she’d give the fucking police evidence that would help convict me. She needs me. Poppy needs me.

They have no one else.

It’s a game, isn’t it? Manning and Cooper are doing this to see how I react. It’s lies.

They’ve got nothing.

I let my arms hang loosely at my side.

‘Sorry,’ I say to the two officers either side of me, who have started manhandling me out of the hall, back to the wing. ‘I’m okay. Really. It was nothing. I’m over it now.’

‘Do you want to see a listener? Or the chaplain? I think it would be a good idea, Tom.’

The words wash over me.

Beth hasn’t sold me out; she’d never do that.

Those lying fuckers. I’m not falling for their games.

Chapter 69

BETH

Now

My knees scrape against the rough wooden slats as I crawl through the roof space to reach the box. DC Cooper was keen for me to hand it over, but she allowed me to wait until this morning – she refrained from seeking a warrant to search the premises herself, which I’m grateful for.

Cooper shines her torchlight through the loft hatch, but I don’t need it. I know exactly where it is – there are only a few cardboard boxes stored here. I hesitate once I find it, my fingers feeling around the outer edges and picking at the brown parcel tape I used to secure the flaps. Inside it is the link to Phoebe Drake – a second-year university student Tom met at Leeds. The girl he ‘accidentally’ pushed to her death.

I’d looked up everything there was to know about her after Tom told me. There wasn’t a lot. Cut and dried – death by misadventure. No one knew Tom had anything to do with it. No one knew they’d been together, albeit very briefly. No witnesses came forward to say they’d seen him with her that night, or the one evening previously when he’d taken her back to his accommodation. He said he hadn’t even been questioned – he’d only ‘heard’ of her death on the uni grapevine. A tragic accident, people said. A warning to students not to become so intoxicated that they were no longer aware of their surroundings; of the danger of being on their own.

Tom got away with it. He’d been lucky.

But that luck has just run out.

‘Here you go.’ I lower the box through the hatch and climb back down the ladder.

‘Thank you,’ Cooper says. Her eyes are alight, her pupils dilated. Excitement evident.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you earlier. Tom told me it was his when I first found it. Shrunk in the wash, he said.’ I let out a short, sharp laugh. ‘I kept it even though I’d promised to burn it.’

‘What made you hold onto it, then?’ Cooper’s eyes narrow.

‘A small part of me didn’t believe Tom’s account – a big enough part to prevent me destroying it. I thought it would be wise to hold onto it, for a little while at least. Then I forgot about it.’

‘Really?’ Cooper