Fatal Series 01 - Fatal Affair

where Tara Davenport waited, pale and trembling. As she introduced herself and Freddie to Tara, Sam questioned whether the woman had the physical strength to put a butcher knife through John O’Connor’s neck.
    “Is this about John?” she asked softly after agreeing to allow them to record the conversation.
    “It is. Can you provide your whereabouts on the night of the murder? Tuesday, from ten p.m. to seven a.m.?”
    Rattled but firm, Tara said, “I was out with some friends, early in the evening, but home by ten.”
    “I’ll need you to give Detective Cruz a list of the people you were with. Do you live alone?”
    She nodded.
    “So no one can verify your whereabouts after ten?”
    “No.”
    “No one saw you arriving home? Neighbors?”
    “Not that I can recall.”
    “How and when did you meet Senator O’Connor?”
    “I met him about six months ago. He was a regular here. He and his chief of staff, Nick, came in for lunch a couple of times a week when the Senate was in session.”
    Sam’s belly twisted at the mention of Nick, whom she’d studiously tried to block from her mind all day. Remembering his muscular chest and the tender way he’d cared for her after the dream infused her with heat. She shrugged off her coat and slung it over a chair.
    “John always asked to be seated in my section. He liked to tease and flirt. After a few months of that, he asked me out to dinner.”
    “Did that surprise you?”
    “It did. I mean, he’s a United States senator. What does he want with a waitress?”
    “What did he want?”
    “At first, I thought he was lonely,” she said, her green eyes filling. “The first few times we went out, we talked for hours. He took me to nice places.”
    “You must’ve felt like Cinderella,” Freddie said.
    “In some ways, I did. He was a perfect gentleman, and so very handsome.”
    “Did you fall for him?” Sam asked.
    “Yes,” she whispered. “If you knew John at all, you’d know it would be hard not to.”
    “So what happened?”
    Playing with her fingers, Tara said, “We had dated for a few weeks when he asked me to spend the night with him.”
    “And did you?”
    Looking down at her lap, she nodded. “It was lovely. He was lovely.” She swiped at tears. “We couldn’t get enough of each other.”
    “Did you have a key to his place?”
    “He gave me his once when I was meeting him there, but I gave it back to him that same night.”
    “Why did it end?” Freddie asked.
    “He, ah…he was looking for more than I was willing to give.”
    “In the relationship?” Sam knew the answer before she asked.
    Tara shook her head, her cheeks blazing with color. “In bed.”
    “What happened to lovely?”
    “I wish I knew. After a few times, it changed. He became rough, almost aggressive. And he wanted…things…that I’m not into.”
    “What kind of things?”
    “Is this really necessary?”
    “I’m sorry, but it is.”
    “He…”
    “I know this is terribly difficult for you, Ms. Davenport, but we’re looking for a killer. Anything you can tell us that will aid in our investigation is relevant.”
    Tara took another moment to collect herself. “He wanted bondage and…anal.”
    “Did you have anal sex with the senator, Ms. Davenport?”
    “No! I said no! I don’t do that. I’m not into that.”
    “And how did he take it when you refused him?”
    “He was mad, but he didn’t try to force me.”
    “Honorable,” Freddie muttered. “Did you see him again after you refused?”
    She shook her head. “I never heard from him again.”
    “How did you feel about that?” Sam asked.
    “I was sad, devastated. I thought we had something special, and then it was just…over. Like you said. For a few weeks, I felt like Cinderella. It was right out of a fairy tale.”
    “But he wasn’t your Prince Charming,” Freddie said.
    “No.”
    “Did he ever ask you about bringing other people into your sexual relationship?” Sam asked.
    Tara’s face lit up, her cheeks flaming. Bingo.
    “Ms. Davenport?”
    “Once,” she said softly. “He said it would be amazing for me to have two guys at the same time.” A shudder rippled through Tara’s petite frame.
    “Did it seem to you that he’d done that before?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you said what to this request?”
    “I told him that I was perfectly satisfied with just him. He seemed annoyed that I said no.”
    “That must’ve been disappointing,” Sam said.
    “It was.”
    “Were you