Sarah feels nothing for me anymore, I know this, and I can’t say that I blame her. Even if by some miracle she is able to get me off, we’ll never have what we had before—if we had anything at all. I’m not so sure anymore. Was I just convenient, a warm body to come home to? No, I’m sure there was love before, but I look at her now… and I think I’ve hurt her to the point where there’s no going back. She does still have feelings for me, but those feelings are overpowered by feelings of hatred, anger, sadness, regret. Will I survive this? I don’t know. Will we survive this? Probably not.
Our meeting yesterday didn’t end well, thanks in part to my mother’s comments. After Sarah told me they were officially charging me, she and Mom left for dinner. I can’t imagine that meal went well.
A guard smacks his baton against the bars of my cell. “You’ve got a visitor.”
I stand up and drag my feet across the floor. I really don’t care to speak to anyone, but visitors and time in the rec room are the only things that break up the hours while I’m here. I follow the officer until we’re standing in front of the interrogation room. He opens the door, and there’s a man with a blond buzz cut sitting in the chair. His back is to me. New lawyer, I think. Perhaps Sarah finally decided enough was enough, and my mom hired a new attorney. I pass him and when I sit down to take my seat across from him, it’s then that I find out who he is. Scott Summers. I try to stand back up to leave.
“Relax, I’m just here to talk.” He puts his hands up trying to show that he is not a threat to me. His voice is deep and husky. It’s the first time that I’ve heard him speak. Last time we met, his fists did all the talking. I look back to the guard and then back at the chair deciding.
“It’s up to you, Adam. I’m not going to force you to sit here,” the guard says. We all exchange looks and then I decide to take a seat. If anything, maybe Scott will slip up, and I’ll uncover something that’ll help my case. What do I have to lose? My life? At this point, I wouldn’t consider it much of a loss anyway.
“Thanks,” Scott says.
“No funny business, Scott. I’m breaking a few rules by having you here, so don’t screw me over. I’ll be on the other side of this door. You’ve got twenty minutes.” The guard steps out and closes the door behind him.
I lean back in my chair and wait for him to speak. I don’t know why he’s here and I don’t know why he wants to talk to me. But he’s here and he can be the first to speak.
“Like I said, I’m just here to talk. I just want to know what happened. I want to know what you know.” He has dark circles under his eyes and an unkempt beard. His button-up plaid shirt is wrinkled and his hair is frayed. He clearly hasn’t been taking care of himself.
“I’ve told everything to the police. It’s all in my statements, and I know you have access to them. So why are you here?”
“I do, and I have read them, but I want to hear it from you,” he says.
“What do you want to know exactly?”
“Did Kelly ever say anything about me? Did you know she was married?”
“Yes, I knew she was married, and I know what you did to her.” My eyes narrow. I want to reach across this table for all the times he hurt her.
“What is it that you think I did to her?” He scrunches up his face and leans back.
“You were abusive to her. You hurt her. You bruised her and made her bleed. Do you think you’re some big powerful man? Do you think hitting your wife makes you a tough guy?” I slam a fist on the table.
“What are you talking about? I never laid a hand on her. How could she say that?” He pounds his fist on the table, which doesn’t do much for his case.
“I’ve seen her bruises. I’ve seen her with a black eye, a bloody nose, and a fat lip. Don’t sit there and deny what you did. Are you scared that the police will find out what you’ve done and look to you as the primary suspect? Because I know it was you that killed her. I know it.” I clench my jaw so tight my teeth ache.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I loved Kelly. There was one time about two weeks before she died that I accidentally caught her in the face with my elbow when I was hanging drywall in our home, but that’s it. She left and said she was going to a neighbor’s house to use their first aid kit because ours was missing. Are you telling me she went to your house and told you I hit her on purpose?” He’s pissed, but there’s also sadness in his eyes. Either, he’s an incredible actor, or he’s telling the truth.
“She did come over crying and told me all about what you did and what you had been doing to her over the years. I’ve seen her bruises on more than one occasion. Why would she lie?”
“I don’t fucking know. Maybe for sympathy. Maybe for attention. I don’t know why she would do that. But I can tell you one thing, she used to come to me back when I was an officer in Appleton, Wisconsin and tell me all the same stuff about her first husband, that he was abusing her. I would never intentionally hurt her and now I’m starting to think, maybe he didn’t either.” He’s glancing all over the place as if he’s putting all the pieces together. But his furrowed brows and wide eyes show me that it’s not making sense. None of it does. Why would she do that?
“She told me about her first husband. She told me you were holding it over her, that you’d say you could go back and get her convicted of his murder if you wanted. It’s why she couldn’t leave you.”
“None of that is true. I never talked about him. I never brought that part of her life up. When we left Wisconsin, we left that chapter of our lives behind us.” He looks me straight in the eye. He wants me to believe him, but I don’t know whether or not he’s telling the truth. How could I? I don’t know him. All I know is what Kelly has told me about him.
“Why would she lie about that?” I ask.
“I really don’t know. But I swear to you I never hurt her.”
“What about the texts you sent her the night of her murder? You threatened her!”
“I know. I regret sending those,” he says with a soft sob. “But I didn’t kill her. I was with my partner, Marcus, all night.”
“Convenient. Is that why you’re here? To convince me that you’re innocent in all of this?”
He rubs his face with his hands as if he’s trying to wake himself up from a bad dream or something. “No, I came here to look you in the eye and for you to be man enough to admit what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t kill Kelly. I wouldn’t. I loved her, and I know you don’t want to hear that as her husband, but I did.”
Scott shakes his head.
The door flings open and in the doorway is Sarah, her assistant Anne, and a man in a pinstripe suit. It takes me a moment to recognize him. It’s Matthew, Sarah’s best friend in law school. I haven’t seen him in years—but Sarah stays in touch with him via text, calls, and emails. She’s even visited him a few times in New York. Sarah looks at Scott and then at me and from her expression, I know she’s pissed.
“What the hell are you doing speaking to my client?” she shouts, her attention directed at Scott.