The Forgotten Widow

by Layne, Kennedy

  “Agent Malone?”

  Dean had just opened the door to his vehicle when a deep voice came from the other side of the parking lot. A male in his mid-thirties who was dressed in a wool coat with a dark grey Ivy cap walked away from a deputy who was clearly pointing in Dean’s direction. He didn’t have to be told that this man was Viola Chambers’ brother.

  “Mr. Chambers, you’re a hard man to get ahold of,” Dean called out, slamming his door shut. So much for the trip home. “I appreciate you coming into the station, though. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  He’d wanted to witness Quinn Simmons’ reaction when she realized that he’d been sincere in his knowledge of her past, but he was having difficulties holding in his unhealthy rage that needed an outlet. She should understand his objectives and why it mattered so much. He shouldn’t be wasting his time on her when there was another widow who needed his attention.

  It was time the local reporter come around to seeing things his way. If she didn’t print the letter he’d written for her convenience, he would have no choice but to resort to drastic measures. She wouldn’t want to see him angry.

  No one could withstand the light of the truth.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Exactly one week had passed since Kenna and Dean had acted on their attraction, which had somehow grown with each passing day. It was hard not to compare what she felt for him compared to her love for Justin. It wasn’t until today that she’d finally concluded they were just two entirely separate relationships. Nothing about the two men were the same, and neither were her feelings for each of them.

  Justin had been comfortable, as if she was coming in from the cold to a hot mug of creamy chocolate and a warm fire lit in the hearth. He’d been familiar and safe. He’d been reliable and someone she knew would always be there…until he wasn’t.

  Dean was the complete opposite. There was an edge to him that had her heart beating fast and electricity crackling all around them. She was never sure what the next minute held, as proven by the amazing sex they’d had in the shower yesterday and then again in the kitchen this morning. She would never look at her kitchen stools the same way ever again.

  “Busy neighborhood,” Kenna replied with a nervous laugh, wondering if Dean had turned up the heat in the car when she hadn’t been looking. A glance out the windshield showed that there were quite a lot of vehicles in front of one specific house. What were the chances that this was his mother’s house? “You mentioned that your brother was cooking Thanksgiving dinner for your mother and a couple of cousins, right?”

  “I mentioned that my cousins would be there, but I never said a couple,” Dean replied with a grin as he expertly parked in between a Toyota and a Jeep Wrangler. She’d noticed the moment they’d pulled onto this street that a bit of the tension released from his shoulders. He didn’t talk about the case often during their time together, but she figured the hunt for The Widow Taker was heating up. He’d become quieter concerning work as the days somehow became even longer, with him only being at the house six or seven hours each day. “My Uncle Nolan will be in attendance with his sons—Josh, Jerry, and Joe. I thank my mother every day that she didn’t include Matt and I into the J category. Anyway, Jerry is married to Sophie. Their two sons will be running around completely out of control, and I daresay they keep things quite entertaining at the ages of four and six. Joe married Kate last year, but they don’t plan on growing their family quite yet. At least, as far as I know.”

  Kenna’s head spun as she tried to keep track of the names. Her holiday hadn’t gone as planned. It had all started when she’d received a call from her mother two days ago explaining how her dad had strained his back lifting the suitcases into the trunk of their vehicle. He’d had back troubles in his later years, and it appeared this current tweak was enough to keep him from traveling. According to her mother’s text this morning, Kenna’s dad was flat out in bed and binging the second season of ‘Jack Ryan’ on his Amazon Prime account.

  “Kenna?”

  She quickly inhaled a sharp breath, realizing that the temperature had dropped a bit inside the car. They must have been sitting there for a little bit, and she’d been too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice.

  “I should have brought more than a cookie tray,” Kenna said tentatively, more to cover up the fact that she was wishing she’d taken her dad’s cue and spent the day binging a new show. What had she been thinking when she’d accepted Dean’s invitation to join him for Thanksgiving? “No one is allergic to nuts in your family, are they?”

  Dean didn’t answer, but instead unfastened his seatbelt and leaned closer to her until he was able to cradle her face with his left hand. He simply kissed her in that way that made the world fade away into nothing. The warmth of his lips was the only sensation that mattered, until his tongue brushed against hers.

  “Seriously?” a man shouted good-naturedly through the passenger side window, followed by a couple of heavy knocks against the glass. “Get a room, you two. We’ve got children around here!”

  Laughter faded in the distance as Kenna bit her tongue to prevent her from pleading with Dean to start the car and take her back to Winter Heights at top speed. She should have known the second her planner began to change for this holiday that her life would descend into chaos. Why hadn’t she taken Jenn and Craig up on their offer to join them for dinner today?

  “That was Josh, so you can see why he’s not married yet,” Dean said wryly, tilting his head as if he wanted to get a better look at her. She did her best to make sure that her cheeks weren’t flushed with embarrassment. “Is this too much?”

  Much? The answer to that question was an undeniable yes, but sometimes being with him was like riding a roller coaster with all the sharp twists and turns. She’d never before experienced exhilaration like this, and she was quickly becoming addicted to the adrenaline.

  “I’m just not used to such large family affairs.” That excuse sounded good to Kenna, but it was as if he saw right through her. She flashed him a reassuring smile. “Justin was an only child, and so am I. Holidays were usually quiet for us, even when we visited our parents for holidays.”

  Dean continued to regard her closely, not making a move to exit the vehicle. There wasn’t a strand of black hair out of place and his jawline was clean shaven. She could even see the sheen of his aftershave that had continued to waft toward her with its intoxicating scent on their entire drive to New Haven. He wasn’t buying her excuse in the slightest.

  “Do you know how many hours we’ve spent together these last two weeks?” Dean asked, being generous with his count. “I’d hazard to guess over a hundred hours, give or take. Break that down to what would be considered a normal couple dating on the weekends, say at four hours a clip, and I figure we’re on our twenty-fifth date. Seeing as I brought you a pet, that gives me extra points.”

  Kenna couldn’t help but crack a smile at the rationalization Dean had just utilized to make her feel more comfortable about meeting his family so soon. In a way, he was right about the amount of time they’d spent together. She and Justin had dated for a very long time, but she knew more about Dean in the past nine days than she had about Justin in the first six months of their relationship. As for Spartacus, she’d made sure his litter box was clean, his water bowl refreshed, and his dry food was replenished before leaving the house this morning. He’d be fine until they drove home this evening with his portion of shredded turkey.

  “Twenty-fifth date, huh?” Kenna chuckled, turning her face into the warmth of his palm. “That might deserve a Hallmark card or something.”

  “How about just Thanksgiving dinner with my family? Who are going to love you, by the way. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Whatever you do, though, don’t listen to anything Josh has to say whatsoever. He’s definitely the black sheep of the family, and he tends to overly dramatize the stories from our youth.”

  “I can’t wait to hear them,” Kenna replied honestly, her ne
rves settling now that the upcoming introductions didn’t seem so daunting.

  “Much better,” Dean said softly, brushing his thumb lightly across her cheek. “Alright, then. Are you ready to see what true mayhem looks like close up?”

  “I’m more anxious to taste your brother’s cooking.” Kenna unfastened her seatbelt and put on her coat as Dean opened his door. He grabbed the cookie container that she’d set on the backseat before helping her out of the car, warning her of the ice spot on the edge of the road. “Does he really not let anyone into the kitchen while he prepares the meal?”

  “Not even my mother,” Dean said in a disbelieving tone that had her laughing once more. That had been his intention, and she was at ease as they began their walk up the small pathway to a modest two-story house that was obviously well-cared for in its older years. The chill in their air caused Kenna to wonder if there was snow in the forecast. The wind had that specific bite that indicated a stormfront was on the horizon. “Matt is fickle when it comes to his creative domain.”

  They’d just reached the front porch when Dean muttered an expletive that told her there was either an incoming message or phone call.

  “Here, let me take the cookies.”

  Kenna removed the metal tin from his hands so that he could fish out his cell phone from his dress coat. They’d stopped by his apartment so that he could pick up some more suits for the upcoming week, as well as pack a small bag of other essentials. He’d changed into khakis and a burgundy sweater so that he’d be more comfortable for the family dinner, though she doubted that suits and ties bothered him anymore.

  “Linc, what’s going on?” Dean asked, not bothering with pleasantries. Kenna had been perfectly happy to stand on the porch with him, so she hadn’t expected the front door to swing wide open. Dean lowered his phone slightly and whispered, “Hey, Mom.”

  He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek before pointing toward his phone, but Cheryl Malone’s complete focus was on Kenna. Her previous uncertainty about joining Dean for such a family affair returned tenfold.

  “You must be Kenna,” Cheryl Malone said with a glowing smile as she unexpectedly stepped forward and pulled Kenna in for a massive hug. “Oh, aren’t you absolutely beautiful!”

  In no time at all, Kenna was being ushered inside the small foyer where she was able to take off her coat after Cheryl had taken the metal tin of cookies from her grasp. Delicious scents of various spices and roasted turkey hung in the air, as if taunting those in attendance to sneak a taste. There was rounds of laughter and loud conversation coming from the living room, along with what sounded like a football game playing in the background.

  Kenna had heard Dean on the phone last night telling his mother that he was bringing a friend to Thanksgiving dinner. He hadn’t elaborated more than that, but it was clear that Cheryl had come to her own assumptions about where Kenna fit into Dean’s life. A quick look over her shoulder revealed that Dean was still outside on the front porch, deep in conversation about the case.

  “Let’s get you a glass of wine,” Cheryl said, all but steering Kenna into the living room, which had suddenly become extremely quiet. She did her best not to shift on her brown ankle boots that complemented her brown dress pants and cream sweater that she’d accentuated with a two-tone colored scarf. She’d wanted her appearance to be perfect. “Everyone, this is Kenna. Kenna, please meet…”

  Cheryl went around the room so fast that Kenna didn’t have time to process names, though she did her best to keep up. The ones who were the easiest to remember were Kyle and Levi, the two little boys who were very excited to have someone new to impress. Within seconds, she had a glass of white wine in her hand that she was very grateful for, as well as a seat on the couch next to the family storyteller. There was no mistaking that this was Josh, even though she’d only seen a glimpse of his back after he’d pounded on the car window.

  The Malone family was more welcoming than Kenna could have imagined, and she soon became engrossed by the conversation as much as she could be with Dean still outside. It was hard to avoid overhearing snippets of his conversations when they were together, and she could sense the tension gathering the closer December came on the calendar. He’d never said a word to her about the two-month gap between each murder, but she could count for herself. Numbers were her career, and she highly doubted that the span between killings was a mere coincidence.

  “…the time that Dean caught the kitchen on fire?”

  “I didn’t catch anything on fire,” Dean responded before Kenna could answer the question. He flashed her a smile as he finally made an entrance, the ease at which he replied told her that they didn’t have to return to Winter Heights quite yet. “That was Matt’s fault, and you know it.”

  “I heard that, and I totally deny that allegation,” Matt called out from the kitchen, apparently listening to every word exchanged. “Kenna, it’s nice to meet. You and I better sit down to have a chat later so that you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Another round of laughter filled the room, and Kenna didn’t feel the least bit out of place. It was easy to see why Cheryl had moved her two sons to be near family. The love amongst the cousins was fierce, and Uncle Nolan appeared to have taken over the paternal role. It was easy to see how proud he was of these children and their families, even getting in a kindhearted rib about the neighbor that Cheryl went to the movies with every so often.

  “Nothing like being thrown from the frying pan into the fire,” Dean whispered after he’d all but pulled Josh off the couch under the guise of shaking hands with him. “Sorry about that.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Kenna whispered back, offering him a sip of her wine until Josh returned with his preferred bottle of beer. This was a side of him that she hadn’t gotten to see often enough, and she was glad that he’d invited her to spend the day with his family. “Nothing at all.”

  He’d listened to Quinn Simmons’ holiday message on her podcast, all but promising something remarkable come Monday morning. She was finally coming around to his way of thinking, and he couldn’t be happier. His story would finally be out into the world, and those who were horrified over his exploits would ultimately understand that his actions were for the greater good.

  His relief was palpable, and he could now focus on the widow who had been occupying his thoughts for weeks. Her pain was clearly profound, and it was easy to see that she still struggled with her unbearable grief. It was nearing the time to help her find peace.

  Almost…

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You have to shut this down, Linc,” Dean said grimly, rolling up the sleeves to his dress shirt as he settled in for the day. He caught himself sounding more and more like Frank as this case went on. “Quinn Simmons can’t publish that letter.”

  The letter in question happened to be from the unsub himself, explaining his reasoning behind taking these women’s lives and how it helped the community as a whole. The two-page missive was currently being tested by the forensics lab for any trace of DNA, though no such evidence had been left at the crime scenes. They were dealing with someone very calculated and extremely meticulous in his undertakings. It was nearly impossible for someone to pass through a room and not leave some trace evidence of their passage, yet this unsub had managed to do so repeatedly at multiple crime scenes.

  “We’re fortunate that Quinn came forward before publishing the letter, and you know that. We risk alienating her if we threaten to curb her freedom of speech. We can’t afford to quibble over that right now.” Linc had been reading over the file of Tamara Johnson. She was the first victim who they knew of, and he fully believed there was something about her that would lead them straight to the unsub’s door. It was generally accepted that an unsub’s first victim was known to them. “Besides, no one should have to live with that kind of guilt if he were to follow through with his threat.”

  The chief threat being that the unsub would take another life i
f Quinn didn’t publicize his ramblings, though he was going to do so anyway for his own selfish reasons. All of them were aware of that fact, even if Quinn Simmons chose to believe otherwise. Linc was sounding a bit too understanding about Quinn’s insistence that she share the letter with her readers and listeners.

  It was a Sunday morning, and the investigation had gone downhill since Thanksgiving. The holiday had come and gone, with his entire family having fallen in love with Kenna before they’d even sat down for dinner. It wasn’t that he was surprised by such a revelation, but his mother had proven to have high expectations in the past when it came to the women in their lives. Matt was the one who brought women home by the dozen, while Dean had always been more selective.

  “The fires are put out, emails have been returned, and I’ve ordered in breakfast from a local bakery,” Chaz announced as he walked into the conference room. Evans was right behind him, looking more exhausted than hungover. It was good to know that the deputy took his surveillance role in this investigation seriously. “Let’s get started.”

  “We’ll table the letter discussion for last,” Dean announced, motioning for Dwight to pull up the latest discoveries. “We’ve found nothing else on the possible suspects that would take them off our radar, other than Timothy August. His alibis firmly checked out. We’ve officially ruled him out, which leaves us with Benjamin Henry, Lyle Guthfield, Daryl Brighton, and Oliver Stevens.”