Deadly Deception - By Andrea Johnson Beck Page 0,26
row of three townhomes, she threw her car into park and approached the covered walkway. Her brown ballet flats made a slight echo on the wooden enclosure. Anne peeked inside the garage; Adam’s car was not there. With his house key in hand, she slid it into the lock and opened the white door. The shades were drawn and all was quiet.
“Adam?” She called out just in case.
Closing the door behind her, she gently stepped into the living area, listening for any signs of his or anyone’s presence. Climbing the beige carpeted stairs, she mutedly looked around the corner where the master bedroom was. The king-size bed had been untouched; the comforter, sheets and pillows were still neatly made. Across the hallway was his office. She knew right where his personal documents were located.
The two-drawer black metal filing cabinet was cold to the touch. Opening it made a slight squeak; she turned her head toward the door. Still silent. All the multi-colored file folders were alphabetically labeled. Did she think she was going to look under C for Corrupt? She rolled her eyes at her thought. She didn’t know what she was looking for except anything that linked him to the Montgomerys or to Carter.
Thumbing through piles of paperwork, she came across absolutely nothing. She sighed with frustration and rotated her head back to stretch out the muscles that had become tense. She looked off into the corner of the room and spotted a pair of gloves. Quickly she began opening doors to her memory vault, knowing those gloves looked familiar. All at once a picture of Carter flashed in front of her—the picture from the camping trip with Ryan and Sam. There had been a man in the photo that had hidden his face. The symbols on the black gloves were identical to the ones in the photo.
“Adam was there.”
In a tight breath, Anne gasped.
“Find what you were looking for?”
Twisting her body, she backed up into the corner of the hushed office.
“Adam, you scared me half to—” she suddenly choked, rethinking her choice of words. “Well, you scared me.”
Adam’s discontented expression said it all.
“What are you doing here?”
A tremble in her throat made it almost impossible for her to verbalize her intentions.
“I…was looking for something.”
He stepped closer to her.
“I can see that,” he said, examining at the strewed papers that lined the floor. “Did you find it?”
Still clutching the gloves in her hand, she tried to inch herself out of the corner.
“I know the truth, Adam.”
He smirked.
“You know nothing, but for fun let’s hear your version.”
“You were hired to kill Carter and when the Montgomery's suspected his death was phony they wanted you to watch over me in case he came back or he told me anything about their illegal dealings.” She held up the gloves. “I know you were there the day he disappeared. I have a photo of you wearing these.”
He took another step closer to examine her evidence.
“Hmmmm, so your theory is that I’m a contract killer on the side and was hired to kill your beloved Carter and now for the past three years I’ve been playing it off as your loving and adoring boyfriend and fiancé, so I could lure him out of hiding and finish the job. Did I miss anything?”
The calmness in his voice frightened her; it shook her right to her bones.
“It’s not a theory, Adam—it’s a fact. You should know that when there’s evidence there’s a warranted case.”
“Beyond a reasonable doubt is my stance, and I’m not going to continue indulging in this psychological warfare. I’m more than willing to tell you the truth but not right now.”
She shook her head and threw down the gloves.
“You know, I’m becoming increasingly fed up with these games, Adam. I’m begging you, if I ever meant anything to you, please, tell me what happened!”
This time, Anne moved closer to him, waiting for a reaction to her plea.
“You don’t know how much this pains me to see you so hurt and confused. The truth will reveal itself in due time.”
He stroked her cheek. She flinched.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I love you, Anne.”
“If you loved me you would admit to what you did.”
“You mean what I didn’t do. The death certificate read accidental drowning, but I guess that doesn’t matter now, since he’s not dead.”
Without another word she pushed past him and flew down the stairs like he was chasing her, but he wasn’t. Dashing from the house and to her car; she