“It’s Brenda Johnson.”

“Great. You’ve been very helpful,” I say as I pack my stuff up.

“If you need any more quotes for your article, you know where to find me.”

I give her a wave, quickly walk out of the coffee shop, and get back into my vehicle.

Jesse Hook, who are you? Are you the third set of DNA? Is that why you haven’t come around since she was murdered? Are you the man we’ve been looking for?

Before I pull out of the café, I text Anne.

Hey, I need you to run a background check on a Jesse Hook. He should be located somewhere in the Prince William County area.

I hit send and moments later, I get a thumbs up emoji from Anne.

30. Adam Morgan

30

Adam Morgan

I still feel uneasy about the way things happened last night with Sarah and Sheriff Stevens. He scurried off quick, and then she did too. What were they in a hurry to do? Go see each other? I need to stop thinking like this. It consumed my thoughts until I fell asleep and then it consumed my dreams. I dreamt that Sarah and Sheriff Stevens were having an affair—that he fucked her in the back of his police car after they left here. But Sarah wouldn’t do that. She’s not that type of girl, at least I don’t think she is. I think back to the first night I met her in that old dingy college basement. She was bored in the middle of a raging party. She didn’t care to overindulge in drinks, try drugs, and she barely had any interest in me. She didn’t care what others thought of her. She was just her. And now, she’s Sarah Morgan—top defense attorney. What happened to the woman I fell in love with? What happened to the woman I married? She’s a stranger to me now, and I’m sure she’d say the same about me.

Is our marriage over? Is she over me? I know I had an affair, but just because I slept with someone else doesn’t mean I stopped loving my wife. Oh God. What the fuck am I saying? Who am I trying to convince that I’m still a good person? I know I’m not. And clearly, everyone else does too, including my wife.

I get up from the couch and cinch the plaid robe I’m wearing over a pair of pajama pants and a white T-shirt. I don’t even remember changing into PJs. I wonder for a second if Mom changed me and I roll my eyes knowing she probably did. Immediately, the smell of bacon invades my nose. Mom is standing at the kitchen sink cleaning pans.