If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) by Kiersten Modglin Page B

why? Not because she wanted to play longer, not because she didn’t want to take her bath or go to bed, not for any normal reason that a child should want to stay at the park. No, your daughter wanted to wait for you. She would’ve waited all night if I’d let her because she was scared, no, she was terrified that you would actually do what you promised her and show up and she wouldn’t be there. Do you hear me, Caide? Your seven-year-old daughter was terrified to let you down, when all you do is let her down every single day.” She stopped talking, tears welling up her eyes. She waited for him to comfort her, he didn’t. She waited for him to apologize or explain, he didn’t. Instead he was silent.
    “Aren’t you going to say anything? Aren’t you going to do anything besides sit there with that dumb, blank expression on your face you’ve worn for the past eight years? Your indifference toward this family makes me sick. I’m sick of it, Caide.”
    She wasn’t sure what had come over her, the anger swelling in her chest like a balloon. “You will go wake that little girl up and you will take her to school. You will stay and eat lunch with her and you will pick her up and spend the afternoon with her. You will or so help me, Caide tonight when you get home we will be so far gone—” She stopped, her gaze trailing out the window. What is going on?
    “Caide, why are there a half-dozen police cars pulling down our road?”
    Suddenly out of his coma, Caide shot up from the couch, looking out the window. He turned back to face Rachael looking manically at her. He held her shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. This is bad, Rach. Blaire Underwood was murdered yesterday. Well, the night before. That’s why Meachum called me, that’s why I never came to the park. I’m a suspect. They’re coming for me.”
    Rachael blinked her eyes quickly, trying to make sense of what he’d said. “What? What do you mean? Why would they think you had anything—?”
    He interrupted her, speaking quickly, “We don’t have time for me to explain and we sure as hell don’t have time for you to fall apart so don’t start crying. You’re terrible in crisis, Rach, but you can’t be right now. You have to hold yourself together, do you hear me?” He shook her. “You can’t fall apart today. The kids are going to need you. I didn’t do it, okay? You have to believe me, I didn’t do it. No matter what you hear, I need you to remember that. Remember that I never meant to hurt you. They have no case against me, so I just need you to be strong until they have to let me go. Now please go. Keep the kids in their rooms. I don’t want any of you to see this.”
    Rachael stood there, afraid if she took a breath she’d fall apart. Maybe if she was still long enough she’d wake up from this awful dream. He pushed her shoulders back just as there came on knock on their door.
    “Damn it, Rachael, go.” She turned around, sure her legs would give out as she ran—ran to her children, ran for them to comfort her as much as she should comfort them.
     
    ***
     
    Caide
     
    Caide heard the knocks on the door in slow motion. He heard ‘Police! Open up’ as if he were underwater. His whole world slowed as he walked toward the door. There were a handful of cops standing on his porch. “Can I help you?”
    “Are you Caide Abbott?” asked a young man with red hair and freckles, a sour look on his face.
    “I am. I told your guys everything I know yesterday.”
    Another officer spoke up, “Mr. Abbott, is your wife home?”
    Caide was taken back. “My wife? What do you want with my wife? If it’s about the tape it’s a private matter and I’d like to—”
    The man spoke again, interrupting Caide, “We have a warrant for the arrest of Rachael Abbott for the murder of Ms. Blaire Underwood. This search warrant gives us permission to search your home.”
    He handed it to Caide and with that they entered the house, shoving passed him. Their