He Guessed How I Died

“You’ve certainly gone to a lot of trouble for my wife, Mr. Blackwood.”

Julian’s voice carried a pointed undertone.

Perhaps I imagined it, but he seemed to emphasize “my wife,” as if he were showing off.

What did he have to show off to Lucian?

I was a thorn in Lucian’s side. And Julian, as far as Lucian was concerned, was beneath contempt.

Lucian extinguished his cigarette and took out the ring, carefully sealed in a clear bag.

“That stupid woman worships you. She wouldn’t take off her wedding ring if her life depended on it. Unless…”

He moved closer to Julian, his eyes sharp and cold.

“Someone broke her fingers one at a time. Left her without enough strength to pick it up.”

I looked down at my left hand.

Every word was right.

Not even death could make me forget the cold cruelty on Julian’s face as he snapped my fingers.

Suddenly, the whole thing seemed horribly absurd.

The only person who had guessed how much I suffered was the man I had hated most while I was alive.

“Shut up!” Julian snapped. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that!”

Lucian laughed.

Right in front of Julian, he tossed the bag to Hayes.

“There’s blood on it. A little skin tissue too. Could belong to whoever hurt her. Have it tested properly, Detective. I’ll be waiting.”

That jolted me awake.

The skin on my ring could be Julian’s.

Hope flared. I frantically went over the night he killed me.

I had used the hand wearing the ring to tear off his mask. Perhaps the band had scraped his face. Or perhaps it had caught his skin when he broke my fingers.

Either way, if they found a trace of him on it, even if it couldn’t prove he was the killer, it should be enough to make the police suspect him.

For the first time, I could see a chance of the truth coming out.

“Stella!”

Julian launched straight into another performance, choking on my name as if grief were tearing him apart.

“If something’s happened to you, how am I supposed to go on? Don’t be afraid. If you’re gone, I’ll follow you. I’ll join you in the next life!”

I was sick of watching him play the devoted husband.

Yet everyone kept falling for it.

Even Hayes, who should have known better after years on the job, looked sympathetic.

“Mr. Whitmore, let’s not assume the worst—”

A gunshot cracked beside Julian’s head.

I flinched.

Lucian held a gun in one hand. A faint wisp of smoke rose from the barrel, which was still pointed at Julian.

He tilted his head, looking almost disappointed.

“Damn. Missed.”

Julian went white.

Then shock gave way to anger and fear.

“Are you insane? You just tried to shoot me in front of a police officer!”

Lucian opened his hands slightly, all innocence.

“You said you wanted to join Stella in the next life. I was helping.”

Hayes’s face darkened.

“Mr. Blackwood. I don’t care that you’re authorized to carry that weapon. You do not get to act as if the police aren’t standing right here.”

Lucian didn’t answer him.

He stared at Julian, who had retreated behind the detective.

“When a woman is murdered, her husband is usually the first person worth looking at. Some statistics put it as high as eighty percent.”

Julian’s jaw tightened so hard I thought his teeth might crack.

“Stop making ridiculous accusations. Stella is my wife. We grew up together. She loves me. She even gave me a kidney. Why would I kill her?”

His voice sharpened.

“You, on the other hand? Everyone in Fairhaven knows you’re enemies. Stella told me more than once that you’re the man she hates most in the world.”

Lucian’s expression grew darker.

His eyes looked murderous, as if one more word might send him over the edge.

Hayes’s hand moved cautiously toward his own gun.