Free Under Cover of Darkness by James Grippando

to me about a serial killer."
    "That's probably because they don't think Beth is a bookend."
    "How can you read this article and say that?"
    "Because I don't think Beth is a bookend either."
    "So you think all this talk of a serial killer is what--premature speculation?"
    "I didn't say that. There may be a serial killer in Seattle. He may be killing in pairs. I just don't think Beth is one of his victims."
    "And on what crackerjack investigative expertise do you base that opinion?"
    She hesitated, then answered. "I'm sorry. But if anyone was to ask me, I'd say Beth probably left you."
    He leaned forward. "Have you talked to her?"
    "No."
    "Do you know something I don't know?"
    "Just call it gut instinct."
    "Instinct?" His voice had a dubious tone.
    "More than that, really. It's an opinion based on observation. You and Beth have a history that can't be ignored. It wasn't that long ago that she accused you of abuse."
    "That was over five years ago."
    "Whatever. A woman doesn't make false accusations without some agenda. With Beth I think it was a classic case of a wife crying out for her husband's attention."
    Gus moved nervously in his chair. Their marriage counselor had said the same thing. The accusations weren't malicious. They were an act of desperation. "What's your point?"
    "Obviously, she couldn't make you listen. So she finally left you."
    "That's so simplistic."
    "Maybe. But I'm one of those people who tends to think the simplest answer is often the right answer. Sure, it's wise to consider all the possibilities. Based on what I've heard this morning at the watercooler, people have already written Beth off as victim number four of this serial killer. But for me, it's clear. Beth is fine. Wherever she decided to go."
    She wouldn't just leave without Morgan."
    "Maybe she'll come back for her."
    "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"
    "I'm not trying to make you anything. I just want you to know all the facts." She looked him in the eye, her tone softening. "I never told you this before. I never told anyone this before. The last time I saw Beth was at the firm holiday party. I'll never forget the way she looked at me. Death rays all night."
    "For what?"
    "For being the other woman."
    "Other woman?" he scoffed. "Hold on there, Martha. This may come as news to you, but as far as I'm aware, you and I have never had sex."
    "There are other levels of marital infidelity."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "Intimacy. It's not just a physical thing. It's a matter of who you make time to talk to every day. Who you call first to share good news. Who you turn to for advice, who helps you solve your problems. True, we've never seen each other naked. But on every other level, I understand you better than your own wife. In every room but the bedroom, I'm the woman you would rather be with. Two people don't have to jump in the sack to be soul mates."
    He smiled awkwardly. "Martha, I like you. I like you a lot. But we're a far cry from soul mates."
    She looked sad for a split second, then angry.
    "Come on," he said. "We're not soul mates."
    "Fine. If labels make you uncomfortable, drop it. But you don't have to insult me by acting like it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard."
    "Oh, please. Don't get thin-skinned on me now."
    She checked her watch, rising. "I better go. Before you really say something you regret."
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    "I've always stood by you. When Beth accused you of abuse, the executive committee was primed to dump you from the partnership before the story hit the papers and tarnished the firm's image. Some people saw it as an opportunity for a change in firm leadership. They saw you as vulnerable."
    "What does that have to do with anything?"
    "Quite possibly nothing. But if it turns out Beth finally did walk out on you, don't be surprised if the rumbling starts all over again."
    "People will think what they want to think."
    She leaned forward, her palms resting on the edge of his desk as