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

he mention if it was a hostile takeover. Anything unusual in his conversations to you?”
    “No. Not at all. He said everyone was excited. It was going to bring in a lot of business to the firm. It was supposed to be his big coup.” My stomach clenched. We were supposed to celebrate his big success this weekend.
    “Ok. Can you think of anything else? It could be a small detail. Anything off at all in the past few weeks?”
    “There’s nothing. Spencer is—was well-liked.”
    “Think. Did he owe anyone money?”
    “No. I told you. There’s nothing.”
    Officer Newton cleared his throat. “Why don’t we give Mrs. Kingston a second? Join me outside?”
    “Sure. We’ll be right back.” Pendleton and the other officer stood on my front porch. I could see them, but their voices were low.
    My living room felt cold and empty. Nothing was cold in August, but a chill had set in my bones, spreading its way into every muscle and pore. I chewed on my bottom lip, nibbling over the center until I felt the rawness of exposed skin.
    “Audrey?” I heard a knock at the back door and Paxton’s head was in the doorway. “Are you ok?” He raced to the couch. He looked out of place in my house. “What’s going on? You didn’t come back, and then I saw the cars out front. Audrey?”
    “Spence is dead,” I whispered, the despondency taking hold.
    “God. You can’t be serious.” He dropped to the floor and grabbed my hands.
    The front door closed. “Mrs. Kingston, would you like our help notifying other family?” The officers trailed into the room. “Mr. Tanner?”
    Paxton stood, dropping my hands. “I saw your car and came to check on Mrs. Kingston. She told me the news. If there’s something I can do to help with your investigation. I can provide funding. I don’t know.” He stammered. Paxton never stammered. “I want to help. How can I help?”
    “Are you friends with the Kingstons?” Pendleton asked. His tone never wavered.
    “I live next door,” Pax replied. “We’re neighbors.”
    I was afraid to look at him. Afraid that the word adulterer was carved into my forehead. Pendleton and Newton would see if I looked at him. They would see the connection. They would know we spent last night fucking each other. Know that I let him strip me down, lick me, fill me while my husband was lying dead in a ditch. They would see it.
    I buried my head again, letting the sobs rise. They surfaced, crowding my throat, choking the air from my lungs. Spencer was dead and my lover was in the living room. Alive.
    “Audrey, is there someone I can call for you?” He was at my side. “Audrey?”
    I was hyperventilating, struggling for air. Sucking in the heat of the blanket. I wished it would cover me, take me into the darkness.
    “Audrey!” Paxton shook me. “She’s in shock,” he called to the officers.
    I closed my eyes and stopped fighting. I didn’t want the air or the light.

 
    I t was a nice service. That was what everyone kept telling me. The flowers were lovely. The sermon beautiful. Spencer would have loved it. Why do people make idiotic statements like that? No one would enjoy his funeral. His mother hadn’t let go of my hand since we left the church. She clutched it, her white knuckles almost blue from the grip.
    I watched as he was lowered into the ground. The minister nodded when it was turn to throw a rose on the casket. I stood and walked to the edge of the pit that would swallow my husband. Red. It was a red rose.
    I turned, finding my seat, but glanced up by accident. I knew better than to look around. He was there in the back of the crowd. His sunglasses masked his expression. I couldn’t stop him from showing up. I sat next to my mother-in-law, letting her make indentations in my skin.
    A car took us home after the graveside ceremony. The driver walked us to the door before the mourners descended upon us.
    I couldn’t escape the flowers. The smell of them invaded my nostrils, and seeped into all the