Fatal Series 01 - Fatal Affair

the other man’s eyes on his back. “Sam got an early start.”
    “I heard her leave about seven-thirty. Celia’s downstairs doing laundry, but she made bacon and eggs. Plates are up there in the cabinet.”
    “That sounds good.” Wondering if he’d be able to eat under the watchful eyes of Sam’s dad, Nick brought the plate and coffee to the table. They sat in awkward silence for several minutes before Nick put down his fork and worked up the courage to look over at the older man. “I love her.”
    “If I thought otherwise you wouldn’t have slept in her bed last night. I don’t care how old she is.”
    Taken aback, Nick stared at him. “I wanted to go with her today.”
    “She wouldn’t have let you.”
    “Still, until this thing with Peter is cleared up…”
    “They snagged him this morning at Union Station, buying a one-way ticket to New York.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Yep.”
    “Well, that’s a relief.”
    “She’s gonna have a go at him. I don’t know about you, but I’d kind of like to see that.”
    “How about I drive you?”

    Sam took a series of deep breaths to calm her churning stomach before she picked up the folder of material gathered from Peter’s apartment, opened her office door, signaled to Freddie, and headed for the interrogation room where she’d asked the uniforms to put Peter. The quiet in the normally buzzing detectives’ cubicles told her she’d have a good-size audience watching in observation.
    “He’s apt to come at me,” Sam said to Freddie before they went in. “Don’t stop him.”
    “Are you out of your freaking mind?”
    “Let me handle this my way, Cruz.”
    “Fine, but if it appears he’s about to kill you, you’ll have to excuse me if I get in the way of that.”
    “Deal.” With a small smile for Freddie, she stepped into the room. Peter had aged since she last saw him. His sandy hair was now shot through with silver, and the face she’d once found handsome was hard and lined with bitterness.
    Nodding to release the officer guarding him, Sam stepped up to the table.
    “I want someone else,” he said without looking at her.
    “Tough.”
    “This is a conflict of interest.”
    “We’re not married anymore, so no it isn’t. Detective Cruz, please record this interview with Peter Gibson.”
    Freddie clicked on the recorder and returned to his post by the door, sending the signal that this one belonged to Sam.
    “You’ve been advised of your rights, including your right to an attorney?”
    “Don’t need one. You’ve got nothing on me.” Peter raised his cuffed hands. “Is this really necessary?”
    “Detective Cruz, please un-cuff Mr. Gibson.” When Freddie didn’t immediately comply, she said, “Detective.”
    Freddie stalked past her and released the cuffs. Scowling at her, he returned to the door.
    Peter rubbed his wrists. “Kind of a lot of drama over nothing, Sam,” he said in the patronizing tone he’d often used on her when they were together.
    “Nothing?” She laid out each of the photos of her that had been found in his apartment, hearing the loud nuts-on-the-block buzz that had been missing with Terry O’Connor. “What do you call this?”
    “Amateur photography. Is that a crime these days?”
    “No, but stalking is.”
    He shrugged. “A misdemeanor. So charge me.”
    “Thanks, I will. Hanging around outside my house? Kind of pathetic, even for you.”
    His genial blue eyes hardened. “I wasn’t outside your house.”
    “Yes, you were. It’s sad that you’d rather stalk the woman who divorced you than find someone new to control. Pathetic, isn’t it, Cruz?”
    “At the very least,” Freddie said. “I’d say it’s kind of sick and pathetic to be fixated on your ex, especially when she’s made it crystal clear to the world that she wants nothing to do with you.”
    If looks could kill, Freddie would’ve been a goner.
    Sam moved around the table so she was behind Peter. “Pissed you off that I didn’t want you anymore, didn’t it?”
    “I didn’t want you, either. You were a shitty wife and lousy in bed.” He looked up at the dark glass that masked the observation room. “You hear that?” he yelled. “She sucks in the sack!”
    “Nick doesn’t think so.”
    Peter tried to surge to his feet, but she shoved him back down.
    “I guess you’ve figured out that we compared notes and discovered you didn’t give me his messages six years ago when you were pretending to be my