Read Killing Katie (An Affair With Murder) (Volume 1) for Free Online Page B

was sent home. The dust on the shelves had become thicker, but offered no more clues. “A courtroom fuck-up,” Steve had called it. “Ten years’ probation and registering as a sex offender.”
    “He’ll be one of the first on my list,” I mumbled.
    With that thought, I swiped the sleeve of my shirt over the screen, erasing any traces of having used the computer. I snapped at the power button like a yapping dog, annoyed and disappointed by the lack of progress I’d made that morning.
    “If I’m doing this, then I’m going to do it right!”

SEVEN
    S UNLIGHT CREPT OVER Katie’s shoulder, throwing the rest of her into a harsh silhouette. I covered my eyes, but not before waving her toward our table. She saw me and hurried over at once, carrying the sun behind her until she was beneath the small café’s awning. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust; I blinked away the colorful sunspots.
    “Outside?” she questioned as she began to pull a chair out.
    “Might be our last time before the winter sets in,” I answered. She sat across from me, her smile waning. Katie’s eyes were puffy and glassy, as if she’d been crying. I sighed quietly so my disappointment would go unnoticed. This was going to be a Katie lunch, filled with Katie moments. Meaning something had gone wrong, and we were going to talk about whatever it was the entire time.
    I shrugged to shake off my concern, realizing it was fine. I just hoped that I’d have enough patience to stomach the conversation. After all, if we were talking about Katie, we wouldn’t be talking about me. And the only news I had to offer was about having decided to murder someone—not exactly the type of news one shares over a meal at a small café.
    “Feels good in the sun,” she said, anxiously playing around with the dishes and tableware, trying to fill the time until she could spill what was bothering her.
    “Things aren’t good?” I asked, feeling impatient and wanting to shortcut the filler, but making my voice sound concerned. Katie stopped fidgeting and nearly broke down, covering her mouth. She swiped at her eyes impatiently and waved off my question.
    “Let’s just eat and have a drink or two . . . or three,” she answered. “We’ve got an hour before I have to get back to the office.”
    “Are you sure?” I asked, uncertain if I should nod or shake my head. She nodded for me, confirming. “When you’re ready.”
    I glanced at my phone, noting the time. Michael wouldn’t be home from school for at least another four hours. Steve’s mother often offered to sit for Snacks—frequently hinting around that it looked like Snacks was going to be her last grandbaby. Shamelessly, I took advantage of her time every chance I could, especially on nice days like today.
    “That can’t be right,” I mumbled. I felt giddy, realizing I’d have a small pocket of free time after our lunch.
    “What? What is it?”
    “Sorry, nothing.” Three hours! I shook my head. Three free hours after lunch! Free time doesn’t come by very often. Three hours doesn’t sound like much, but to me it was a universe of time to do some more planning.
    Katie had checked her phone too, but for her the phone was a tether back to her office, a virtual leash that constantly nagged and yanked on her for attention like a needy toddler. A sporadic mess of rat-a-tat-tat clicking sounds volleyed over the table as her fingernails hit against the phone’s screen. And as she tapped message after message, I looked at Katie’s business suit and felt a sudden, and surprising, twinge of jealousy. Katie and her husband Jerry stopped having children after their boys came into the world, which was great for my Michael. Growing up at the same time, the three boys were as close as cousins.
    As best friends, though, work was where our lives went in different directions. From those first moments in the tub together, and through decades of being joined at the hip, we found ourselves separated now.