when it came time to leave Amber Lake she was going to be damaged. Whether that damage came from the memories of the crime against her resurfacing or from loving Seth, only time would tell.
Chapter Eight
Mark Willoughby was a burly man with dark hair and a chin that thrust outward as if he was expecting a fight at any moment. He eased down into the chair opposite Seth and even though his lips curved into a smile, it was obvious by the seething emotion in his eyes that he was ticked.
“You don’t look happy to see me,” Seth said as he leaned back in his chair across from his ex-brother-in-law.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this a happy family reunion,” Mark replied. “So cut the crap and tell me why I’m here.”
“Vicki Smith.” Seth watched intently Mark’s reaction to the name.
The only response was a slight narrowing of Mark’s green eyes. “What about her?”
“I understand you were seeing her at the time of her murder.” Again Seth watched intently for any telltale subtle expression that might reveal something Mark didn’t know he’d given away.
“Seeing her sounds a little more serious than what was going on. Vicki and I had dinner together a couple of times before she was killed. That’s all, just a couple of casual dinners. She was still totally hung up on Todd. We were just friends, that’s all.”
He’d gone on long enough that it had begun to sound defensive. “Did you beat her like you beat my sister?” Seth asked.
Mark jerked up in his chair, his chin thrust forward as he fisted his hands on the top of the table. “You’re out of line, Seth. I never laid a finger on your sister, never.”
He unfisted his hands and appeared to relax against the back of the chair. “I won’t deny that I made a lot of mistakes in my marriage to Linda, and I’m sorry every day for those mistakes, but I was never violent with her.”
“But you hated her when the two of you divorced,” Seth said.
“I didn’t want the divorce. I wanted my family to stay intact more than anything. I’ve never gotten over Linda.”
“And maybe that’s why you’re murdering dark-haired women who remind you of her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mark scoffed. “I know you’ve never liked me, that you never thought I was right for your sister, and I might have been a controlling ass when I was married to her, but I’m not a murderer. Jeez, Seth, how could you even think of me that way and allow me to have my daughter living with me half the time?”
“When was the last time you saw Vicki Smith?” Seth asked, trying to take the personal out of the conversation.
“Two nights before her murder. We had dinner together. Of course she insisted we eat at the Golden Daffodil. It was obvious she wanted Todd to see her with me, maybe make him realize what he’d thrown away.”
“And after dinner?”
“I took her home, safe and sound. I don’t know what happened to her after that. All I know for sure is that I had nothing to do with her murder. Besides, the way I hear it Vicki’s murder is tied to Rebecca Cook’s death. I didn’t even know that kid and I sure had nothing to do with Tamara Jennings.”
Seth asked a few more questions and then released Mark. After he left the interrogation room Seth remained seated at the table, his thoughts a chaotic mess.
Was it possible that Mark hid such a hatred for Linda that he’d come up with an elaborate plan for murder? Kill three dark-haired innocent women as a ruse and then attack the object of his rage, thus confusing the investigators? Somehow he wasn’t sure Mark was smart enough, wily enough to come up with such a complicated plot. Besides, he and Linda had been divorced for years. If he was responsible, then why would he explode now? As far as Seth knew there had been no inciting incident, nothing out of the ordinary that would cause him to suddenly begin killing women. He and Linda seemed to have found a comfortable peace with each other, a peace that went beyond the sharing of their daughter.
And if his confusion about the crimes weren’t enough he had to deal with his conflicted emotions where Tamara was concerned. His heartbeat caught painfully in his chest as he thought of those moments when he’d been unable to find her in the building.
Raw terror had raced through him,