“Get me my fucking lawyer!” I pick up a chair and throw it at the mirror. It bounces off and hits the ground.
11
Sarah Morgan
Sheriff Stevens escorts me into a small room with a one-way mirror through which we can observe Adam. He’s visibly shaken, sitting at the table tapping his fingers, fighting back the tears, and contemplating.
“Have a seat.” Sheriff Stevens gestures to a chair.
I composed myself in the bathroom prior. I’m no longer here as Adam’s wife. I’m his lawyer. I’m Sarah Morgan, top criminal defense attorney. I must remind myself of that every minute or so. I have to be the strong and proficient woman I am. I know Adam didn’t do this. I honestly can’t believe that he would even be capable of hitting someone, let alone killing a person. But I also thought he would never cheat on me and, as the sheriff’s investigation shows, he has been—for at least a year, with this Kelly woman. I shake my head in disgust thinking about it. I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it yet. Not until Adam admits it to me. He couldn’t have done any of this.
I pull a notepad and a pen from my purse and look to Sheriff Stevens. “Just tell me the facts of the case.”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes, don’t spare any details.”
He gives me a sympathetic look and nods. I’m sure by now, he knows exactly who I am. When I walked out of that bathroom, Sheriff Stevens had a new respect for me. I’m sure he Googled me and found that I was not just some lowly housewife. He looked at me with compassion and admiration. Maybe he thinks I’m crazy to stand behind Adam. But Adam is my husband.
“The victim’s name is Kelly Summers. Age twenty-seven. She was found this morning at approximately 9:15am by a cleaning woman by the name of Sonia. Kelly was found dead in bed at Adam and…” he coughs. “I guess your bed at a lake house in Prince William County. She had been stabbed thirty-seven times in the neck, chest, and torso. Due to how gruesome this murder was, it would appear it was a crime of passion. There are no defensive wounds, which tells us that she was asleep when it occurred. Her eyes were open when she was found, which tells us that she had awoken during the stabbing.
“A toxicology report is being done, and we believe she had drugs in her system, which would explain why she didn’t wake right away. A preliminary autopsy found semen in her mouth, vagina, and anus. There is bruising on her right shoulder, but that appears to have been caused at least a day or two before. She has a couple of small tears in her anus and vagina, which would insinuate rape or rough sex. They found skin under her fingernails,” he finishes. He looks away, then back at me.
I finish jotting down the notes and look at him, “Is that everything?”
“That’s all we have as of now.” Our eyes meet, and I can see that he feels sorry for me. I can see how uncomfortable he is. I can see him questioning why in the hell I am defending Adam. The look I give back is a look of strength and vulnerability. I don’t know why I’m doing this. A loud bang on the glass pulls my attention away from Sheriff Stevens.
Adam is pounding on the other side of the one-way mirror. He seizes a chair and throws it. It bounces off and hits the ground with a thud. He screams and then collapses to the floor in a puddle of anguish.
I turn back to Sheriff Stevens. My mouth drops open and my eyes widen. I’ve never seen Adam react like that. I’ve never seen him do more than raise his voice. I’ve never seen him this enraged. Maybe he could be violent.
He comes across less like a confused man in the wrong situation, and more like a wild animal backed into a corner, capable of anything to claw its way out. I see a fire in Adam’s eyes that I didn’t know existed. To be honest, before this moment, if someone had asked me if I thought Adam was capable of murder, I would have quickly said no. Deep down, I thought he was a bit of a pussy. But now I see that I was wrong. Lurking beneath the surface is something else, something more.
“I need to see my client.”
Sheriff Stevens nods. “Just so you know, we just got a warrant to search both homes and pull DNA. We’re also looking at conducting a polygraph test if Adam is cooperative. But I’ll give you some time to speak to him.”
“Okay.” I stand up and collect my things. Before I pull the door open, I turn back to the sheriff. He is inches from me, and I can feel the warmth of his breath. “Thank you, Sheriff Stevens.”
He gives me a nod and tells me that he’ll be outside the room and that he’ll send someone in for the DNA testing in twenty minutes. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reassuring myself that I can do this.
12
Adam Morgan
The door opens, and I pull myself off the floor and stand up. As soon as I see her, I almost collapse again. She’s beautiful. Dressed in a black pencil skirt that hugs her hips in all the right ways, a white form-fitting blouse and a tailored jacket. Every strand of her blond hair is in place, wrapped in a bun at the nape of her neck. As per usual, her pouty lips and green eyes draw me in, and it’s her eyes that almost cause me to lose it. They’re slightly red, and there’s a small smear of black mascara. She’s been crying. I’ve never seen her cry. What the fuck did I do?
“Sarah. I’m so sor—”
She holds up her hand stopping me. She gestures me to take a seat in the most formal of ways. I pick up my chair from the floor and place it upright. There’s no sense in arguing. I didn’t kill Kelly, but I did cause this. I caused all of this. I take a seat, folding my hands in front of me and hanging my head.
Sarah takes a small breath and approaches the table, her black heels clicking along the floor. Everything she does is with purpose. She is trying to hold it all together. She sets her bag down on the table and pulls out her chair slowly. With complete composure, she takes a seat. She runs one hand over her hair and takes another small breath. Her eyes are the same eyes I’ve always looked at, but she’s looking at me as if she doesn’t know me. Her gaze dances around me. She’s assessing me, questioning me. She’s treating me like I’m… a client.
“Sarah.” There’s a little aggression in my voice. I don’t mean it, but I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. How can she even question that I would do something like this? How can she act like she doesn’t know who I am? I’m her husband.
She pulls out a notepad and a pen. She sets them on the table, neatly, parallel to one another. She places her hands on her lap and looks directly at me. “Adam.” She pauses. She’s choosing her words with care, and I don’t know why she can’t just talk to me.
“Sarah. I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill her, I swear it. I couldn’t do it. I was sleeping with her, but I would never hurt her—you have to believe me,” I plead while fighting back tears.
She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t react. “Okay.” She jots down a couple of words. Her eyes well up. She swallows hard. She’s so strong, and I’m the one breaking her. I’m supposed to be the one protecting her. Her chest rises and falls.