Free The Magnolia Affair by T. A. Foster Page A

car crashed as a result.”
    “Shot? That doesn’t make sense. Tranter’s Creek is just outside of town. This is wrong.” I stood up, tossing the blanket. I shook my head. “No, you have the wrong Spencer. My husband is in Columbia right now. He’s finishing up an acquisition. It’s not him. There’s a mix up.” I felt better. I felt terrible for the other Mrs. Kingston, but the relief was welcome. They had the wrong guy.
    Officer Newton stood and shoved his phone in front of me. “Is this your husband?”
    It was a copy of Spencer’s driver’s license.
    “This picture was taken at the scene. It matches the face of the man in the car. Did your husband drive a silver BMW?”
    I nodded. I had to sit. My knees gave and Newton tried to soften my landing.
    “I’ll get some water for you. Sit here and try to breathe.” He walked into the kitchen and returned with a cup of tap water. “Take a few sips.” He touched the brim to my lips.
    “This can’t be happening. It’s not happening.”
    “I know this is terrible timing, but there is a detective on his way. He should be here in a few minutes.”
    “Detective?”
    “This is a homicide investigation. The driver’s side window was shot several times. It seems that one of the bullets hit Mr. Kingston. Your husband was shot once in the temple. We need to find whoever did this to him.”
    I cringed and buried my eyes in the blanket. Not Spencer. Not his beautiful face. His smile. No, God, no.
    “Pendleton will be here and he’s going to ask you questions. Ok? Do you think you can answer them?”
    “I don’t know.” I was afraid to let go of the blanket.
    “It’s a lot. I know. But, Spencer needs you to do this for him.” He said it in the present tense, as if my husband was still alive. As if he was on a business trip and lost his credit card. He just needed me to call in the number to get him out of an embarrassing jam.
    I heard the doorbell ring, and Newton walked to the front door.
    “She’s in here.” He walked back into the room with a man dressed in a suit. It was dark blue. His shoes brown. I studied his feet.
    “Mrs. Kingston, Cam Pendleton. I’m sorry about your husband.”
    “Thank you.” Was that the proper response? None of what was happening made sense.
    “We are moving quickly on this case at the insistency of your husband’s firm. There is a suspect at-large. The more we know, the quicker we can get this guy in custody. Can you help us?”
    “The firm?” I asked.
    “What?” Pendleton sat in the chair closest to the couch.
    “You said Spence’s firm?”
    “I did. They asked that we handle this before it became a press spectacle.”
    “Huh. How do they know? Who knows?”
    “There was a file in the front seat of the car with the firm’s information on it. We called them to verify the victim’s, I mean your husband’s information. They told us your name.”
    “Oh. Ok.” I wondered who had taken that call.
    “Have you or your husband received any threats? Suspicious activity at the house? Anything unusual in the last few weeks?”
    “No. Nothing.” My words were flat.
    “Is there any reason someone would want to hurt your husband?” he asked.
    “No. No one.”
    “You can take your time. Think for a second. Did Spencer mention anything at work? A coworker? A client maybe? Disgruntled neighbor?”
    I looked up too quickly. Pendleton was staring at me. My next breath stabbed at my lungs. Oh my God. I clutched at the blanket. No. No. I was with Paxton all night. No, he would never hurt Spence. No.
    “Mrs. Kingston?”
    I shook my head. “No, he—uh—he only talked about the acquisition. Said it was going well.”
    “And this acquisition, it was with a firm in Columbia?”
    “Yes, that’s right. Anderson & Lee, I think, was the name. Last night was a celebration dinner.”
    “You didn’t go?”
    “Spence said no wives. I stayed here.”
    Pendleton continued to scribble notes in his notebook. “I see. And did