The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (romantic novels to read txt) 📕

‘You said you loved me. You took an oath: for better, for worse. I trusted you.’

‘And I trusted you, too. Once. But not any longer. How can I?’

‘I would never have hurt you. But you’ve really hurt me.’

There’s nothing I can say to make my betrayal easier on him, I realise. ‘What’s done is done,’ I say instead. Silence falls as we both cast our eyes around the room rather than focus on each other. I want to leave now. I swivel in my chair, about to get up, but his words cause me to freeze.

‘Nice and cosy with the widower, I see.’ He gives a false, mocking laugh. ‘I saw him in the court. You might’ve been trying to make it look like you weren’t together, but I could tell, Beth.’

I don’t like talking about Adam. ‘Well, as you always told me, you have to keep looking forward. So that’s what I did. What I’m doing now.’ I give him a sarcastic smile and add, ‘I needed a replacement.’

‘Let’s hope you made the right decisions, then. For Poppy’s sake.’

‘She can’t have a worse father than you,’ I say, to hurt him.

‘Strange how things work out. Isn’t it? I mean … my actions may well have benefited you, in the end.’

‘Really? I don’t see how you can look at it that way. Women have died, Tom. You took them away from their families, their friends. Destroyed lives.’

He doesn’t say anything for a while, seemingly taking in my statement.

‘Yes, true. And it was a shame about Camilla’s accidental death, eh?’ He smirks, giving a knowing nod of his head. He turns and raises his arm to the closest officer.

‘I’m finished here,’ he says. ‘Goodbye, Beth.’

I’m left open-mouthed as he walks away.

Chapter 90

BETH

Now

We sing songs on the long drive down, the car laden with as much as we could fit in. Excitement exudes from the kids, and it’s contagious.

‘Oh my God, I can’t wait to be able to open the curtains every morning to a sea view,’ I say, laying a hand on Adam’s thigh as he drives.

We’re heading towards mine and Poppy’s future. It’s so important to me to ensure Poppy doesn’t have to go through anything like I did; that she has a safe and secure upbringing. With luck, she won’t have memories of the earlier blip: a few memories of Tom, but she won’t recall that her father, who she loved, was a serial killer. I’ll do my utmost to prevent her ever finding out.

A shiver runs down my back. It’s been a challenging time. But, I remind myself, it had to come to this – Tom had to go to prison so that I was free to rebuild our lives. Adam will be a better father to Poppy in the long term. And she has Jess now, too – and who knows, maybe another child is on the way. I lay a hand over my belly.

The sun is high over Teignmouth Pier. We’re skimming pebbles and building sandcastles while the girls squeal with delight. I’ve finally found perfection. It does exist. And it’s right here, with my Poppy, Adam and Jess.

I knew I had chosen right – I was sure from the moment I set eyes on Adam that he was the one. I was confident he would make the perfect husband and father. There’d been a lightning bolt when he looked at me as I served Camilla at the café that first time. I believe in sparks, and we definitely had those in abundance. But of course, Camilla was the perfect wife and mother. I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

But it wasn’t impossible, either. Nothing is, if you’re determined enough.

What was it that Alexander, Tom’s boss, had said? ‘I had a feeling a determined woman like yourself wouldn’t take any of this lying down.’ And he was quite right. Once Tom opened up and told me what he’d done, it was just a matter of time. I had to act quickly to begin planning a new life – there was much to be done before I could leave him. I was careful to slot in each bit in just the right place; it had to be done in the correct order. If I didn’t proceed with care, my plan wouldn’t work out and I’d be left alone.

Or become one of his victims.

Now, though, I realise Tom wouldn’t have killed me. That’s why he’d been seeing the sex worker – so he could release the pent-up tension and act out the fantasies I was unwilling to allow. Still, even if I’d known that, I would’ve carried on plotting my escape. Being Tom’s wife was too risky.

When I’d found Katie’s email account on Tom’s iPad, I’d taken the opportunity to read everything Tom had sent pretending to be her. Why were her father and friends falling for it? The tone was so off – and the excuses for why she wasn’t coming home, why she hadn’t kept in regular contact, were flimsy.

Tom was shocked when the police came looking for him that Monday evening – he’d looked so fearful as the detective asked for his help relating to a murder. But he didn’t ever suspect me. I’d sent an email to Katie’s father under the guise of being a worried friend. I’d gone to an internet café and used a new email address so it wouldn’t be traced back to me. After I told him her emails seemed wrong, somehow, like they weren’t even from Katie, he finally did some digging. He emailed Katie several times, but I deleted them before Tom could send a reply. It was enough to allow his suspicions to grow, and that’s what led him to the police.

DC Imogen Cooper’s parting comment the day she left my cottage made me realise she knew. ‘Thanks for being brave enough to start the ball rolling,’ she’d said. I am grateful she didn’t make a thing of it.