Chapter 36

The gravel crunched under my shoes as I approached the faded green door of Adam Andersson's house. It was a modest dwelling, the kind that held secrets behind the dark windows. I rapped sharply, the sound echoing, betraying my resolve.

There was a moment"s shuffle, and then the door swung open. Adam stood there, his features tight, eyes wary.

"Agent Thomas? Can I help you?" His voice had an edge like a knife carefully sheathed.

"Hi, Adam."

I kept my tone level. "I"m looking deeper into Steven"s… situation. As well as Nicki's. Mind if I step in?"

He hesitated, a muscle ticking in his jaw, then stepped aside. The living room was dim, curtains drawn against the intruding gaze of the sun. I scanned the room, noting that you could still see the blood on the ground where Nicki had died. Adam had been living with a friend for a few days while the forensic department had taken what they needed. When they were done, he had tried to clean the floor, but it was still visible. How anyone could live in a house after something like that happened was beyond my understanding.

"Steven," I started, easing onto an armchair with rough upholstery. "How well did you two know each other?"

"We were neighbors." Adam remained standing, arms crossed. "You know how it is."

"Neighbors can mean a lot of things. Were you friends, acquaintances…?"

"Acquaintances," he clipped out the word. We"d nod and say hello, and that"s about it."

"Must be tough," I said, watching his reaction closely, "with everything going on."

"Life"s full of surprises," Adam replied, but his voice betrayed nothing.

"Indeed, it is."

"Their daughter," I said, shifting in the chair to face him more directly. "I heard she"s ill."

Adam"s gaze dropped to the floor, his posture sagging slightly. "Yeah, leukemia. It"s been… rough on them." The words seemed to weigh heavily on him.

"They must have changed their routines quite a bit," I ventured carefully.

He nodded, the movement barely perceptible. "They didn't get out much after it started. Hospital visits, treatments…." His voice trailed off, lost in the sea of unspoken hardships.

"Before that," I pressed on, leaning forward with feigned casualness. "They had more time for themselves, no?"

"Sure," Adam replied, a touch of defensiveness slipping into his tone. "But I really don't know a lot about them."

"Of course not," I conceded with a quick, placating smile. "Just trying to paint a clearer picture of their relationship."

"Sarah liked to unwind—a glass of wine, a night out with the girls," Adam said, his fingers drumming an irregular beat on the armrest. It got worse over the years, and she came home drunk many times. We saw her drive up in the car, swerving down the street. It was tragic. Steven? He preferred a quiet night in."

"Sounds like they had different ways of dealing with their daughter's illness," I said, eyeing Adam for any telltale signs of discomfort.

"Opposites attract, right?" He forced a chuckle that didn"t quite mask the strain in his voice.

"Sometimes," I agreed, keeping my tone light. "And Steven never joined her on her evenings out, even just to keep her company?"

Adam shook his head. "Not after Victoria got sick. But even before that, he wasn"t much of a drinker. They would go out, but she was the one who liked to drink. And when Victoria got sick, he stayed home with her or spent his nights at the hospital."

"Interesting." I tapped my finger on my knee, feigning contemplation. "With Sarah out, it must"ve given Steven some… opportunities. Not only did she go out at night from time to time, she also worked a lot and was a career woman."

"Opportunities?" His brow furrowed, and he leaned back, arms crossing defensively.

"Sure," I continued as if stating the obvious. "Time alone can lead to new friendships… maybe more intimate ones."

"Are you suggesting—?" Adam began, his voice rising before he caught himself. "No. Steven wasn"t like that."

"Wasn"t like what, Adam?" I probed, locking eyes with him. "Seeing someone else?"

"Absolutely not," he snapped. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, quickly doused. "I would"ve known. He was devoted to his daughter. It was really hard for him."

"Would you have known?" I asked softly, almost sympathetically. "It"s easy to miss the signs, especially when life"s so hectic."

"Look," Adam said, his hands unclasping and reclasping, "Steven had his faults, but he was loyal to Sarah. Especially after…." His voice cracked, and he looked away.

"Especially after his daughter got sick," I finished for him. The room filled with a tense silence, and Adam"s jaw tightened as he fought back emotions.

"Right," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Because that"s when people show their true colors, isn"t it, Adam?" I pressed on, my voice barely above a whisper.

Adam met my gaze again, his eyes wells of unshed tears, but there was something else there—fear, perhaps, or guilt. "You have no idea what they went through," he said, his voice barely audible.

"I"m trying to understand," I assured him. But understanding was only part of the game. The other part was unraveling the truth.

Adam"s posture stiffened, the tendons in his neck standing out like steel cables. His hands, once restless, were now planted firmly on the arms of his chair, gripping with white-knuckled force.

"Am I under arrest?" The words sliced through the thick air between us, sharp and sudden.

I leaned back slightly, giving him space, though the distance did little to soften the intensity of our exchange.

"No, Adam," I said evenly. "You"re not under arrest."

"Because if I"m not," he continued, a hard edge cutting into his tone, "I"d like you to leave. Now."

"Understood," I replied, my voice steady, betraying none of the curiosity that buzzed in my veins like electricity. "But we both know something isn"t right here. You feel it too, don"t you?"

His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second before locking back onto mine, a silent battle raging behind them.

"I don"t have to listen to this," he muttered, but there was a tremor in his voice, a crack in the armor.

"Of course," I conceded with a slight nod, rising from my seat. My movements were calm and deliberate, a counterpoint to the tension that thrummed through the room. "Just doing my job, Adam."

Adam watched me, the lines of his face etched with a mixture of anger and something that looked suspiciously like fear.

"Adam," I said, my voice cutting through the charged silence. "We both know you"re holding back."

He stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, a vein throbbing visibly in his neck. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

"My wife, Nicki, was… she had someone else," Adam"s voice broke, shattering the facade of indifference he"d been clinging to. "I found texts on her phone, late-night calls. I confronted her, and she admitted it—said it was Steven."

"Steven?" My question hung between us like an accusation. "Did you confront him too?"

Adam shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "No. What was the point? It was already over, all of it."

"Did you think about revenge?" I probed, watching his face closely.

"Revenge?" He spat out the word like it was poison. His eyes flared with a raw, untamed emotion. "I loved Nicki. Despite everything. But Steven…."

"Did you kill them, Adam?" I asked sharply, seizing the crack in his composure. "Was that your idea of justice?"

His face contorted with rage; his body tensed as if preparing to lunge. "You think I"m a murderer?"

"Someone killed them," I pressed on, unrelenting. "And you just told me you had every reason to hate the man who was with your wife."

"Get out!" Adam"s voice was a roar, his hands shaking with the effort to control himself. "I didn"t kill anyone!"

"Good motive, though," I murmured, locking eyes with him, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.

Adam"s breath was ragged, his chest heaving. "You have nothing on me."

"Maybe," I conceded, maintaining my ground. "But motives matter, Adam. And yours is as clear as day."

I quickly stood up from the couch, feeling my heart racing. Adam"s face twisted with anger as he took a step toward me.

"Get out," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "I"m going."

But as I made my way to the door, Adam lunged at me, his arms outstretched. I dodged him, stumbling toward the wall. He tried to grab me again, but I managed to slip past him and run to the exit.

"Stay away from me!" I yelled, my voice shaking with adrenaline.

Adam let out a frustrated scream and slammed the door shut behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and started walking to my car.

As I drove home, my mind was racing with thoughts about what had just happened. Was Matt right? Was I putting myself in harm"s way by investigating this case?

I couldn"t deny that the possibility of danger scared me, but I also knew I couldn"t give up now. There were too many unanswered questions and too many loose ends. And if I didn"t find out the truth, who would?