Chapter 4
Kris had told me that Kevin was scheduled to attend a history conference at NYU.
The conference didn’t exist as I stared at the university’s calendar on my laptop, scrolling through every conference scheduled for this month.
Nothing. No American Historical Society Conference listed anywhere.
I called the hotel where Kris told me he was staying and disguised myself as one of the university's administrative assistants.
“I’m just confirming Professor Kevin Hadley’s reservation.”
“Yes, he is confirmed for three nights, two adults, in our honeymoon suite.”
I silently laughed. Alex had been right. Kevin wasn’t simply having an affair. He’d become careless. Comfortable. The way men always did when they were confident they were getting away with it.
Alex and I had Kris and Kevin over for dinner.
I watched them. Studied them. Poor Kris deserved someone who looked at her the way she looked at her husband.
She’d be better off without him. She’d be fine, especially once she found out he was seeing another woman.
It was easy to clone his phone that night.
I wasn’t surprised when he sat at my table, next to his wife, and texted his mistress.
“Excuse me. I have to respond to this text from the Dean at the university. It’s about a meeting tomorrow.”
He made a deadly mistake he didn’t yet know about. He told Alex, and Alex told me. And once I knew, I couldn’t unknow it. Ever since I’d found out, the whispers returned. The uneasiness. The fight to keep it under control.
“Walk away, Dahlia. Last warning.”
“Show me.”
“No.”
“I said, show me!”
Memories of us crouched in the corner as our mother stabbed our father twenty-two times played in my mind.
The screams, the blood, the anger. It all ignited the raging fire inside me.
Most people saw affairs as broken vows. Not me.
I saw them as calculated choices, with every lie requiring another to bury the truth, until the truth suffocated them.
Kevin had made his choice. Now, I had to simply decide when.
He was leaving on Sunday morning. It had to be done before then.
I saw every text and every picture the two of them exchanged.
He was meeting her at her house on Friday night, telling Kris he was going bowling with his friends.
It would be easy because Alex told me he had to go to Miami for the weekend to pick up some rare editions of literature books he ordered.
He wanted me to go with him, but I had to decline since I was working at the gallery all weekend.
“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” His hands gripped my hips.
“I would love nothing more. But how would it look if I asked Tess for the weekend off when I just started there?”
“I suppose you’re right. But next time, you’re coming along.”
“Deal.” I smiled, kissing his lips.
I’d nestled myself on the floor of the second row of his SUV.
Kevin hummed along to the radio while one hand gripped the steering wheel.
He never looked back. People rarely did.
They always assumed danger came from in front of them.
I waited until we reached the stretch of highway that was bordered by mangroves before sitting up.
My movements were enough to make him look into the rearview mirror. His eyes met mine.
“What the—”
“Keep driving.” I held the knife to his throat.
“Dahlia?” His hands tightened around the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.
“Take the next right,” I said.
“I—I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.”
“Listen. Whatever this is—”
“The state park is up ahead. Pull in.”
He obeyed my command. Fear had a way of making people cooperate.
Neither of us said a word as the road leading to the state park narrowed. After thinking about it, Kevin finally spoke.
“Is this about Rachel?” he asked, his voice shaking.
“So you admit there’s a Rachel.” I softly laughed.
“I can explain. Please, Dahlia. Let me explain.”
“Men like you think they can,” I said.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen. I swear.”
“No?” I asked.
“It’s just—” he couldn’t finish his sentence.
“All you had to do was tell Kris you wanted a divorce.”
The SUV pulled into the state park. The same place the news spent days talking about. The same place where that young girl was found.
“What are you going to do to me?” Kevin asked, staring through the windshield, his hands trembling against the steering wheel.
“What every affair eventually demands,” I said.
“I’m sorry. I’ll tell Kris about the affair. I’ll tell her I want a divorce.
His phone screen lit up with a text from Rachel.
“Don’t bother reading that,” I said. “And you’re only apologizing because you got caught. Stop here.”
The SUV came to a halt. I reached for the door handle.
“Get out slowly,” I commanded.
Come sunrise, someone would make a terrible discovery.
Police would scour the area, reporters would gather at the gruesome scene, and the headlines would write themselves.
Another body under the same tree. Another mystery.
And at my home in Key West, I would be pouring my morning coffee, watching and listening to every word.