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“No, but it’s enough to make him a suspect in a homicide.”
“Did the coroner give you guys an estimate on the time of death?”
“She was too far gone for that, man. The body was washed after she died and laid out like that, so there’s very little forensic evidence to go on. No semen. No fibers. No fingerprints. No sign of forced entry. She knew her killer, whoever it was. I can tell you she was sexually brutalized—extensive lacerations in the vagina. She was beaten. Broken ribs, ruptured spleen, welts on her buttocks. Stab wound to the lower abdomen killed her. Coroner estimates death occurred sometime between January twentieth and twenty-second.”
Jesus. What kind of fucking monster…
Poor Murphy was sweating. “Neighbors were no help. They only said she wasn’t very nice.” He wiped his brow. “Look, I gotta get back.”
“Are they charging him?”
They were talking as if he wasn’t sitting right there. Brendan shifted in his seat. He was starting to get agitated.
“No, but they want to. They don’t have enough to charge him yet.” Murphy clasped his shoulder and squeezed. “Sorry, Bren.”
“Yeah, man.” Brendan patted his hand. “Thanks.”
Then he got out of the Mercedes and left.
Phil pounded on his steering wheel. “We need those interview transcripts.”
“You’re my attorney. Can’t you get them?”
“No. Not unless they charge you.”
Well, fuck.
“So what do we do then?”
Brendan wasn’t sure if he was caught in The Twilight Zone or a bad episode of CSI, but he wanted out. This was a shitshow that he didn’t play a part in. Did he despise Salena for everything she’d done? Yeah, he did. No denying it. But whoever did this was sick. He might be fucked up, but he wasn’t a goddamn psychopath.
“You go home and try not to worry about it. They don’t have anything. This is going to blow over.” Phil patted his shoulder.
God, if one more person does that…
“I’m going to see what else I can find out. Murphy will keep me posted. Trust me, this is the end of it.”
Except that it wasn’t.
And as much it killed him inside, he knew what he had to do.
For her.
Sundays.
God, how he looked forward to Sunday every week. And not because it was his only day off or because it was game day. Brendan really didn’t care that much about watching football on TV. It was watching it with Katelyn, just being with her, that he looked forward to the most. Until today, he hadn’t realized just how much.
Today would be the last football Sunday for a long time. Jesse was having everyone over for the Super Bowl. Katelyn wanted to stay here. Just the two of them. Cook up some lasagna together. Snuggle and watch the game. And that’s what Brendan wanted too.
It might not sound like much to most people. A typical Sunday spent at home. But to him, it was everything. He was going to lap up every fucking minute of today. Savor it. Appreciate it. Because it’s the ordinary moments that make a life extraordinary. Beautiful. Wonderful. Joyful.
That was his sweet girl. She was all of those things and more, his little wisp of a thing with the beautiful face of an angel. Sunshine. White chocolate. Jasmine. God, he just loved her so fucking much. It hurt inside his chest. That’s how much he loved her. So today he was going to forget about everything else and spend every fucking minute of it loving Katelyn.
A day of ordinary moments.
Because he didn’t know if they’d have tomorrow.
Brendan came up right behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and squeezed her tight as she layered noodles and cheese in a pan. It was one of his favorite things. To hold Katelyn like that. To feel her softness sink against him. He leaned over, his face nuzzling into her neck, and kissed the tender spot beneath her ear that tickled. Just so he could hear her laugh. She had the cutest laugh.
