Cereal Killer

don’t know. She called me at the hospital about ten or eleven.”
    “What did she want?’
    A look of sadness washed over his face, and he clenched his hands together on the table in front of him. “She said she had been working out and she wasn’t feeling so good. Said she was light-headed. I told her to drink a big glass of water and to lie down for a while. She said she would.”
    “And that was the last time you heard from her?”
    “Yes. And I keep asking myself what might have happened if I’d just come home then. She said she was sick, and I should have listened.”
    “You didn’t know,” she said. “You can’t blame yourself.”
    Savannah thought of the clothes in the living room and decided to broach a touchy subject. “Kevin, I hate to ask, but... was your marriage a happy one?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    He didn’t sound all that convincing, but considering what she had recently seen and heard, she wasn’t surprised.
    “Were either of you seeing someone else, outside the marriage?”
    He looked her straight in the eye and replied evenly, “Caitlin and I had an open marriage.”
    “I see,” she said just as evenly, without breaking the gaze. “So that’s a yes?”
    “Caitlin had many lovers. I believe she was having a fling with her photographer at the time. A guy named Matt Slater. ”
    ‘Yes, I know Mr. Slater. Had that been going on for a while?”
    “Not long. Cait had a pretty short attention span when it came to that sort of thing.”
    “Was it... going well? To the best of your knowledge were the two of them on good terms at the time she died?”
    “I doubt that the affair mattered much to either one of them,” he said. “I suppose they were still friendly, if that’s what you mean.”
    ‘Yes, that’s what I meant.” Savannah paused, weighing her next words before speaking. “Forgive my candor, Mr. Connor, but have you been seeing someone recently?”
    She wondered if he would blatantly lie to her, considering that they both knew she had seen the women’s clothing in the living room. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time somebody had looked her square in the eye and told her a whopper.
    “Yes. I’m seeing someone,” he said.
    Savannah instantly gave him Brownie points for honesty. But she questioned whether he would have been so truthful if his sweetie hadn’t left her breeches on the couch in plain view. It was one thing to be forthright about your spouse’s liaisons, and quite another when it came to your own.
    “May I ask who she is?” Savannah said.
    “You can ask, but I won’t say.”
    “I wish you would tell me. It could be important.”
    “No. The lady I’m involved with is married and has children. Her marriage isn’t open. Not every couple can handle that sort of arrangement in a mature manner.”
    Savannah entertained a momentary mental image of how “mature” she would be if her husband decided to “open” their marriage. It involved a flurry of activity that included multiple whacks to the head with a skillet, digging a deep hole in the backyard under the magnolia tree, and that same magnolia tree blooming profusely the next spring, thanks to all that additional unfaithful-hubby fertilizer.
    “That’s true,” she said. “Not a lot of people go for that anymore.”
    “Besides”—he glanced over his shoulder toward the sliding doors—“her identity isn’t important. She’s a very kind, gen tie person. She’d never hurt anyone.” Except maybe her husband and children, her family and friends, if they found out about you, Savannah thought.
    She could tell she had taken Kevin about as far down that road as he would be willing to go. She decided to try another tactic.
    “I understand that you’re taking legal action against Charles Wentworth III.”
    His face flushed dark with anger. “I sure am. I’m suing him and Beekman and Dr. Pappas. They were all complicit in her death—pushing her to jeopardize her health so that they could make a buck. They didn’t give a damn about Caitlin, as long as they made money off her.”
    “Do you think they were involved in Kameeka’s death or Tesla’s disappearance?”
    “I don’t know. That’s for you and the cops to figure out.”
    Savannah glanced at her watch. It was already past eight, and she had a lot of ground to cover before the day was over. “One last thing, Kevin,” she said. “If you were me, where would you concentrate your efforts on this case? If someone did