That third set of DNA threw me for a loop, I will admit. It was honestly really starting to piss me off that I couldn’t figure out whose it was. I thought I had studied Adam and Kelly well enough to know the details of who was and wasn’t involved in their lives. I thought Bob and I knew everything about those two fucks. That was the only thing that worried me. So, who was this third guy? Had he seen anything? Thank God it ended up being that dipshit Sheriff Stevens. Yet another man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Once I figured it out, I made sure to keep that from the case, because I planned and pushed for a speedy trial and a guilty verdict, and I didn’t need that muddying everything.

Sheriff Stevens ended up helping me anyway without knowing it, thanks to his sloppy police work. Adam definitely had Rohypnol in his system. I know this because he didn’t move, not even once, when I stabbed Kelly to death. The precious new love of his life, being ripped away from him one motion at a time, her blood splashing onto the clear plastic tarp I laid over him like a private little viewing window just for Adam, but he just lay there. So, either that half-wit sheriff didn’t actually test Adam’s blood, or he messed with the evidence to get the case closed quickly. I think it was the latter considering his involvement. It’s also why I left that third set of DNA out of the trial. Sheriff Stevens unknowingly did me a favor, so I returned it in kind.

And what about Rebecca Sanford? The young wannabe journalist on whom Adam banked all of his hope. She was, in fact, a private investigator, but she wasn’t hired by Scott. She was hired by Bob and when her job was done, she left town as arranged. Her job was to keep an eye on Adam, to steer him in the direction we wanted. We wanted him to find out about Bob’s connection to Kelly, just so he’d have a small sliver of hope for a moment, just enough to make him crazy. We wanted him to put two and two together with Anne and her little threatening note. Another small glimmer of hope that would make him erratic and irrational. But most importantly, I wanted to remind Adam that he could only trust one person and that was me.

That overly-aggressive, small-brained ape of a human, Scott Summers, split on his own accord. I really don’t think he wanted his whole “destroying evidence in the murder of Kelly’s first husband” story getting aired out for everyone to see. Hmm, maybe he wasn’t as dumb as I thought he was.