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"Mr. Hastings?" Sheila asked gently. At his nod, she continued, "I'm Deputy Sheila Stone, and this is my partner, Deputy Finn Mercer. We're here about your wife, Laura. May we come in?"
James Hastings stepped back, gesturing for them to enter. His movements were slow, almost mechanical, as if he were moving through a thick fog. "Of course," he murmured. "Please, have a seat."
The living room was cozy and neat, with family photos lining the walls. One of the photos depicted Laura at a community event at the library—a fundraiser, by the look of it—where she was surrounded by a crowd of smiling faces, but the photograph that really caught Sheila's attention was a large portrait above the fireplace: Laura Hastings, smiling brightly, her arms wrapped around her husband. The contrast between the vibrant woman in the photo and the broken man before them was striking.
As they sat on the sofa, James collapsed into an armchair across from them. "I still can't believe it," he said. "Laura...she can't be gone. It doesn't feel real."
Sheila leaned forward. "Mr. Hastings, we're very sorry for your loss. We know this is difficult, but we need to ask you some questions, if that's okay with you."
James nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Of course. Anything to help find who...who did this to Laura."
Finn pulled out his notebook. "Can you tell us about your relationship with Laura? How long were you married?"
"Fifteen years," James replied, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. "We met in college. It was...it was love at first sight, you know? At least for me." His smile faded, replaced by a look of deep sorrow. "Lately, though, things have been...strained."
Sheila pursed her lips, curious. "Strained how, Mr. Hastings?"
James sighed heavily. "Laura had been distant. Secretive. I thought maybe...maybe she was seeing someone else. I confronted her about it last week, but she denied it. Said she just needed some space to figure things out."
Sheila exchanged a glance with Finn. This aligned with what Father Stephen had told them about Laura considering leaving her husband. "Did Laura mention anything about wanting to leave you, Mr. Hastings?"
James looked up sharply, pain etched across his features. "Leave me? No, she never...I mean, I knew things weren't great, but I didn't think..." He trailed off, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh God, was she really going to leave me?"
Sheila's heart went out to the man, but she had to press on. "Mr. Hastings, where were you earlier this evening? Around, say, five o'clock?"
"I was at work," James replied, wiping his eyes. "I'm an accountant at Elbridge College. We're in the middle of budget season, so I've been working late. You can check with my colleagues. I didn't leave the office until after ten."
Finn made a note of this. "We'll need to verify that, of course."
James nodded. "Of course. I understand."
As Sheila watched James, she couldn't shake the feeling that his grief was genuine. While she knew appearances could be deceiving, her instincts told her that this man wasn't their killer.
"Mr. Hastings," she said gently, "did you know Laura was going to confession earlier this evening?"
James nodded. "Yes, she mentioned she was going to the church, and I admit I was a bit surprised. We're not...we weren't very religious."
Sheila leaned forward. "Did she say anything about why she was going?"
James hesitated, furrowing his brow. "I...I'm not sure. Laura's been so closed off lately. She didn't share much with me."
"Try to remember, Mr. Hastings," Finn said. "Even the smallest detail could be important."
James shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "I'm sorry, I just can't... It's all a blur. The last few weeks, the arguments, and now this... I can barely think straight."
Sheila exchanged a glance with Finn. They needed more information, but pushing too hard might shut James down completely. She decided to try a different approach.
"Mr. Hastings," she said softly, "I know this is incredibly difficult. But think back to the last time you and Laura talked about her going to church. Was there anything unusual? Anything that stood out?"
James closed his eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. For a long moment, he was silent, and Sheila worried they'd hit a dead end. Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
"Wait," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There was something. Laura mentioned…she needed to talk to someone. Someone she could trust."
"At the church?" Finn asked.
James nodded slowly. "Yes, at the church. She seemed...relieved. Like she'd found someone who could help her."
Sheila leaned in, her heart racing. They were close to something, she could feel it. "Did she mention who this person was, Mr. Hastings?"
