Chapter 8
Detective Paige Walker
Mrs. Hadley set two mugs of coffee on the table before taking a seat across from me.
“I’m sorry. I still don’t understand why a detective from New York is here,” she said.
“I understand how unusual this must seem. I’m following up on a homicide investigation I worked. It has now become a cold case.”
“What does this have to do with Kevin?” Kris frowned.
“There are similarities between the two cases. Unfortunately, I can’t discuss the specifics.”
“I understand.” She nodded.
I pulled out my notebook and set it down in front of me.
“If it’s okay. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” Kris said.
“Did your husband know anyone from New York?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” She brought the coffee mug to her lips.
“Did he go on any recent trips?”
“No. But he was supposed to leave for New York a couple of days before he died. He told me there was a history conference.” Her eyes swelled with tears. “But there wasn’t. He was taking his assistant on a romantic getaway.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hadley.”
“Please, call me Kris.”
“Did your husband tell anyone about his affair?” I asked.
Her brows furrowed. “I don’t know. Maybe he told his friend Alex.”
“Alex?”
“Professor Alex Whitmore. He’s staying with his girlfriend, Dahlia, next door.”
“So Professor Whitmore works at the university?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“You mentioned his girlfriend, Dahlia. What is she like?”
“She’s a good friend. We clicked the first day she moved in.”
“How long has she lived next door?” I asked.
“A few months. She’d just moved here from Seattle.”
Damn it. I was hoping it was Katherine.
“I’m sorry, Detective Walker, but I need to go lie down. Are we finished here?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you for answering my questions.” I stood from my chair. “Which house is Dahlia’s?”
“Why?” Kris frowned.
“I would like to ask Alex a few questions.”
“That one.” She pointed out the window.
Kris walked me to the door. “Again, I’m very sorry for your loss. Take care.” I stepped onto the porch and stared at the white house next door.
There were no cars in the driveway, but I took my chances anyway.
I walked over, stepped onto the porch, and rang the doorbell.
I waited a few moments and rang the bell again.
I climbed into my car and headed to the police station to talk to Luke.
He was the last person on the face of this Earth I wanted to see, but I didn’t have a choice.
I stepped into the station and took the elevator up to the second floor.
“Oh my God, Paige?” Leslie grinned, throwing her arms around me. “How’s New York?”
“It’s good.” I smiled.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking into the Kevin Hadley murder.”
“Why?” Her brows furrowed.
“It resembles some similarities to a case I was working back in New York.”
“You do know that Luke is the lead detective on that case, right?”
“I know. He’s the one who called me.”
“Good luck. It was good to see you again.” She smiled.
I turned, and there he was, leaning against his desk, one hand wrapped around a Styrofoam cup of coffee, the other shoved into the pocket of his khakis. My heart beat out of my chest.
“Paige.” Luke nodded.
“Luke.” I stood a few feet in front of him.
It was funny how three years had a way of making strangers out of people who once shared a home.
“You look good,” he said.
“I’ve had better weeks.” I softly smiled.
“Yeah, me too.” He breathed out a laugh.
He picked up a manila folder from his desk and handed it to me. I opened it and studied the crime scene photos of Kevin Hadley’s murder. My eyes moved slowly across each image. I pulled the medical examiner’s report out and studied it. Twenty-two stab wounds.
“When I heard the number, I immediately thought of your case,” Luke said. “Twenty-two is pretty hard to forget.”
“Can I see the file on the girl you found under the same tree?” I asked.
“Sure. Let me go grab it. Whoever murdered this girl was meticulous. We have nothing, Paige. No suspects, no fingerprints, no murder weapon. Exactly like Kevin Hadley’s murder.
The medical examiner said that the young woman was killed somewhere else and then brought to the park.
But for Kevin Hadley, he was murdered in the park. ”
“Someone wants us to think the murders are connected, but they’re not. You know as well as I do that a serial killer uses the same method. They never stray. My killer disappeared. No body. No arrests. No evidence she ever left New York.”
“And yet?” Luke stood, his arms folded across his chest.
“Someone in Key West just stabbed a cheating man twenty-two times.”
“Do you still believe it’s that Katherine woman?” he asked.
I sighed. “Katherine Tate was a terrified woman every time I interviewed her. She was a victim, and victims don’t suddenly become organized serial killers overnight. But all the evidence always led back to her.”
“And you said she vanished into thin air?”
“She did.” I nodded. “Kevin Hadley wasn’t randomly killed. He was selected.”
“You think the killer hunted him?”
“No. I think someone handed the killer Kevin’s name,” I said. “A man having an affair dies of twenty-two stab wounds, exactly like the cheating men back in New York.”
“Could be a copycat,” Luke said.
“Possibly. But I doubt it. There’s something I need to do. I’ll talk to you later.” I gripped my purse strap.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” Luke blurted out. “We can talk more about that case. Maybe do a little catching up.”
“I’ll let you know.” I turned and walked away.