Fatal Series 01 - Fatal Affair

Independence.”
    “You should’ve taken Constitution.”
    “Well, I know that now . Nice ride,” she said, admiring the gleaming Beamer. “The taxpayers take good care of you.”
    “I have few vices,” he said with a grin as he slid an arm around her. “Cars are one of them.”
    She scooted out from under his arm before they entered the lobby. “No PDA,” she growled. Flashing her shield to the officer at the security desk, she gestured to the bank of elevators. “We’re taking another look at the senator’s apartment.”
    The officer nodded and waved them through.
    They rode to the sixth floor where the door to John’s apartment was blocked by yellow crime scene tape. Sam plugged in the code to the police lock and pushed open the door. Lifting the yellow tape, she encouraged Nick to go in ahead of her.
    She heard his deep inhale and watched his broad shoulders stoop as the memories came flooding back to him. Placing her hand on his arm, she stopped him. “You don’t have to be here. I can get the clothes for you.”
    “No,” he said softly. “I can do it.”
    “Take a minute. I’m going to wander.”
    Sam walked through the luxurious apartment where a light sheen of fingerprint dust remained. Picking up knickknacks, opening drawers and checking behind the television, she looked for anything that might have been missed the first time through. She had no doubt the place had been put together by a decorator—probably when the senior Senator O’Connor lived there. It was odd, really, how little of John O’Connor could be found in the apartment.
    In the senator’s bedroom, the bed linens had been stripped and sent off for DNA analysis. A single hair could have blown the case wide open, but all the fingerprints, fibers and DNA were John’s. Since the apartment had not yet been cleaned, blood stained the wall behind the bed as well as the beige carpeting, and coagulated on the bedside table. The blow to the jugular would’ve been messy. Blood would have burst like a geyser from the wound, soaking the killer.
    Sam stood at the foot of the bed and let her mind wander. Had he fallen asleep sitting up? Or had he sat up in surprise when the killer appeared? Obviously, he’d been naked in bed. Had he thought he was going to have sex with the woman who appeared in his bedroom? Is that how she gained easy access to his privates? Sam was absolutely convinced it was someone he knew well, which is why he hadn’t had much of a reaction to finding her in his apartment.
    “What’s going on in that head of yours, Sergeant?” Nick asked from behind her.
    “He was asleep,” Sam said, her eyes fixed on the headboard where the gaping hole in the beige silk upholstery was a glaring reminder of what had happened there almost forty-eight hours ago. “Dozing. The TV was probably on.”
    “It wasn’t on when I got here.”
    “She could’ve shut it off. Whoever it was, she was someone he wasn’t surprised to see.”
    “She?”
    “They were lovers.” Sam spoke in a monotone as the scene played itself out in her imagination.
    “Did he let her in?”
    Sam shook her head. “She was waiting for him and took him by surprise. She had the knife behind her back. Maybe she was naked, too, which is why there’s no one on the security tapes leaving with blood on their clothes. He thought he was going to get lucky, and that’s how she managed to get a hold of his penis. By the time he became aware of the knife, she had already severed it. The pain would’ve been monstrous. He probably lost consciousness. If he came to before she killed him, he would have asked why. Maybe she told him, maybe she let him wonder.”
    “Would she have been strong enough to get a knife through his neck with one shot?”
    “Good question. And you’re right—it would’ve taken a tremendous blow to go all the way through his neck and lodge in the headboard. She would’ve been enraged by something he did or failed to do. Rage and adrenaline breeds strength. It could’ve been a promise he made and didn’t deliver on or maybe she caught him with another woman. People have killed over less. When she was done, she took a shower to get rid of the blood that would’ve been all over her. Then she cleaned the bathroom and scrubbed it so well there wasn’t so much as a hair on the floor. The water in the tub had dried by the time he was found, so we can only speculate that she showered. But none of the towels had been used. If she used