She knew immediately that he had been strangled. She had watched her share of crime shows, enough to know what that looked like. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together what could have led to this.

How did it happen? Was someone here while I slept? Who did this?

The shock paralyzed her, and she just stood there, frozen, staring at the man she had kissed, held, liked—hours before. He was gone. She was quickly drenched in sweat by the horror of what she was looking at.

Call the police. Grab the phone and call them.

She was about to turn around and walk back into the room to get her phone, when she paused.

They’ll think I did it. They’ll think I murdered him.

As Ashley stood there, panicking, she noticed something strange. The window was open, despite the hot night air outside. She shivered as she realized that the murderer could still be in the apartment.

Get out. Get out now.

She was slowly backing away from the body, when she heard a rustling noise from behind her. She spun around and found herself face-to-face with someone wearing a ski mask.

In his hand he was holding a belt with a big shiny buckle.

TWENTY-TWOBILLIE ANN

Joe had a strange look on his face when he came home. I had made dinner and eaten with the kids, wondering what held him up at work.

If he was even at work still.

Joe was in construction and had his own company, which usually meant he could come and go as he pleased. It was a huge help for us because I never knew what my day looked like, and he could pick up the kids and drop them off if needed. Right now, his company was working on building a new hotel on the beach, and it was a big job, but usually he would always be home for dinner at least.

Just not today.

“Oh, hi,” he said, almost like he was surprised to see me home, and closed the door behind him. “We’re drinking wine now on a weekday?”

“I just had a rough day,” I said and sipped my wine.

Joe walked closer, then scoffed. “If you say so.”

I frowned. Joe’s tone was dismissive, and I could tell he was upset. His eyes avoided mine, and I could feel the tension building in the room.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever.”

He left. I followed him. “Hey, what was that? We can’t even talk anymore?”

“You chose that, not me,” he said with a sniffle. “You’re the one deciding to ruin a perfectly well-functioning family.”

“Well-functioning? Maybe it wasn’t so well-functioning for me,” I said.

“Oh, wow,” he said.

I bit my lip. I really wasn’t in the mood for this right now. He looked at me. I saw deep disdain in his eyes and that hurt.

“Did you sleep with a woman? Did you cheat on me?”

I was taken aback.

“No!” I said quickly, quietly.

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just really hard thinking about you with someone else.”

I exhaled. “I know. But I haven’t.”

“But you want to. And you’re going to.”

He was tearing up, and it broke my heart. My voice cracked as I spoke.

“Listen, Joe. I’m sorry for all of this. I really truly am.”

He paused and bit back his tears. “It’s not fair. I went through cancer with you, I feared you would die, I held your hand through chemo and held your hair when throwing up, while terrified I’d lose you. I saw you lose your beautiful hair and all I could think about was that you might die. And yet I lied. I told you sweet little lies about how your hair didn’t matter. That I didn’t love you because of your hair, and that I didn’t care. Of course, I cared. You losing your hair reminded me every day that you might die, that I might lose you. But you didn’t die. You survived. And now I am still losing you? It’s not fair.”

I stared at him, trying hard to breathe. I felt awful. No, it was more than that. It crushed me completely to see him like this. Breaking his heart, the way I did, was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

I hate myself for doing this.

I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, how awful I felt. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I hated being this selfish. But I never got around to it.

I felt like screaming and crying at the same time. This was so tough. Why did everything have to be so freaking hard?

Joe had turned around and left me to go upstairs, slamming the door behind him, when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Chief Doyle.

Now what?

“I need you,” he said.

TWENTY-THREEBILLIE ANN

Please let it not be another child, please don’t let it be another child. Please don’t let it be Emma.

I drove through the rain and darkness toward the apartment complex on the beach downtown. My heart was racing, and I could barely breathe, worried that another child had been killed. I couldn’t bear the thought.

Chief Doyle had been very vague on the phone and didn’t know much, only that I needed to be there. They suspected it was murder. But what exactly waited for me there, I didn’t know, and I feared the worst as I drove toward the beach and the condos there. It was one of the newer condominiums, built within the past three years, the ones that cost about a million dollars each and came with spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean.

As I reached the apartment complex, I parked my car and made my way toward the entrance, passing the patrol cruisers in the front with their flashers on. The sound of the rain drowned out every other noise, and the gusts of wind made it difficult to walk. I shuddered, partly from the pouring rain soaking me and partly from the fear that gripped me.

I took the elevator to the third floor, where I found the door to the apartment I was looking for. I took a deep breath before approaching, my heart pounding in my chest. The door opened, and I was greeted by Officer Steele. Big Tom was already there, and he greeted me with a nod.

“You always get the lucky calls, huh?” I said to Steele. “What have you got?”

“It was a neighbor who walked by in the hallway and saw that the door to the apartment was open. As it was late, she worried that something was wrong and knocked on the door, before walking in. She heard the water running and found the door to the bathroom open, then peeked inside, while calling out for Bryan, the occupant’s name, worried that he had fallen or something. She found him in there, already dead. She recognized him as her neighbor right away. Tom has spoken to her and taken her statement.”