Before she entered the next room, she splashed water onto her face. She felt so hot.

Mr. and Mrs. Tolleson looked up at her as she entered the room. They seemed so happy. And who wouldn’t be when in a month or so they would welcome their bundle of joy into the world? Mrs. Tolleson was young, comparably, only twenty-six and had had a very healthy pregnancy. They had the names picked out and had bought all the nursery items. She remembered the age where she didn’t feel much different from Mrs. Tolleson now.

Now she would do her job and rely on the fact that soon she would get what she wanted. A new life, as new as she could get.

As she sat at her desk, with her files spread in front of her, she thought about prison, was he worth going to prison over? Did she have a choice if he wasn’t?

It all didn’t matter now. It was a bargain with those who carried with them the same hatred, the same hatred she lived with every day. A promise she made. Besides, the first murder went off without a hitch. Unsolved. Clean. Almost too simple. Gratifying. One less person on the earth draining the life out of another innocent person. There should be more people like her, willing to take life into their own hands. Make the risks they needed to make themselves happy. She deserved happiness.

Chapter Thirty-Five

For Sharon Yoder, Saturday was one of the busiest days of the week. Although she wanted to sleep in, she woke at her usual five alarm, and all the better for it—she had a hundred things to get done.

A load of laundry went into the machine, and she separated a pile to take to the dry cleaners. During her first cup of coffee, she planned her grocery list, wading through her cupboards and fridge for needed items. She cleaned the tub while she showered and cleaned the sink while she brushed her teeth. After she had dusted the computer while waiting for her email messages to download, she wanted to go back to bed. The multitasking was depleting all her energy. She reached into the box of chocolates her boyfriend had given her the previous afternoon.

She couldn’t see WP today. It was Saturday and he would be with his wife and kids. Besides, she had loads to do. They had been together almost a year and they were really happy. The wife still didn’t know, but it was good for two reasons. It bordered on dangerous with WP’s psycho wife, and dangerous meant exciting. Every day she asked herself why she did it, why she put herself out like that, but she came to the conclusion that it was something that made her want to get up in the morning. Everyone deserved happiness, and she would not be happy if she couldn’t be with him.

By the time three rolled around, she was ready for bed. A normal workday for her would not end for another two hours, but she was more exhausted on her day off than she ever was at work. At work she sat behind a desk answering phone calls and playing on her computer.

She grabbed a beer from the fridge and poured it into a large glass she kept in the freezer. Refreshed, she sat at her computer and checked her email again.

“No one wants to talk to me, Carotene,” she said to the orange Siamese fighter that swam around the bowl beside her. “That’s all right, I’m too tired anyway. Who’s going to look after you when I go on holidays? Maybe Grandpa Frank next door? What do you think?”

The website she had bookmarked months back loaded on the screen: spa treatment, massage, swimming, treated like VIP. That was something she was looking forward to, time away with her man. They had been planning it for months: a conference. Well, that’s what WP told his wife anyway. Everything was booked and planned out carefully and she couldn’t wait. Only three more weeks.

She searched for bathing suits online—red ones, blue ones, large ones, and small ones. Revealing or not? Would it matter? He loved her no matter what she wore. He loved her. It made her smile to know there was someone out there that thought about her with a warm feeling inside. He was her family. Her only family.

The buzzer rang and she looked at Carotene.

“Who can it be?” she said lightly. There was every chance WP got away for an hour or two. Had he come to visit?

She went to the intercom and pressed the button. “Hello?”

“Package,” a woman’s voice announced.

“Come up, I’m on the third floor,” Sharon answered.

What could it be? Flowers? More chocolates? He really was most considerate. Shit. She realized she was only wearing her bra and knickers. She quickly ran to her room and put on a thin robe. As the knock sounded at the door, she ran a brush through her matted light-brown hair.

She opened the door and an older woman stood there. She smiled at her and asked, “A package for me?”

The woman just stood there for a moment staring at her.

“Sharon Yoder?”

“Yes?”

Her excitement took her off her guard. She never saw the knife, and it took her a brief span of time to realize that the blade was sticking out of her chest. She never felt pain or registered the fact that the woman was still standing there looking as shocked as she felt. Her past never flashed before her, just the future that would never happen. Before she could utter the name of the man whom she knew would mourn her death, everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sophia ran her finger over Liam’s clean desk. Although he didn’t use the office much, he hadn’t been transferred yet. Now he spent most of his days out in the field. She had only seen him come in once that week and that was for an IT staff meeting. He barely uttered a word and left halfway through. When Sophia tried to ring him, he never answered his mobile.

She was worried about him, but amongst the IT unit her feelings were isolated. No one seemed to care he wasn’t around. One less halfwit around the unit to mess things up. There were moments when Sophia was unsure why she cared. He had caused her nothing but problems and why should she be his go-between? He should have to accept the consequences for his actions, shouldn’t he?

She entered Vincent’s office and sat down. He was signing papers.

“Yes?” he said, not looking up.

“What is Foxton working on?”

“Why do you care?”

“He hasn’t been around the office lately.”

“He’s on assignment, but you should’ve been able to figure that out yourself. So what do you really want?”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Are you? You complain daily about how much he irritates you. Why don’t you ring him?”

“He’s been upset because of the Stewart case. I’m worried he’ll do something stupid. Something that will make this department look bad.”

Vincent put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Something stupid? Like what? What do you know?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning to do. That’s why I’m coming to you.”

He sighed. “As far as I know, he’s on the Wilder case. Do you know it?”

“No. But I can get the file from Priestly. Should I check up on him?”

He nodded. “But don’t get in his face. Sometimes the best thing to do is just let them know that you’re there for them. Whatever you do, don’t spend all your time worrying about this. He’s got over his wife’s death in the past and given time, he’s bound to get over it again. If you keep bringing it up, it’ll just take longer. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Sophia went to Crystal immediately and asked for the Wilder case file. Crystal retrieved it but when she returned, she signed, “This is the file, but I don’t think he’s working the case.”

“Why?”

“Because he came into the office with an overnight bag. The Wilder case is a London case. The case Liam is working—and I can’t be sure he’s actually working a case—takes place out of town.”