Chapter 2

David's words felt like an ice pick driving straight into my skull.

Did I hear him right? The sounds were coming from our living room? That couldn't be.

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "David, make yourself clear. What do you mean, the sounds were coming from our living room? Are you saying the killer was in our house?"

David snapped back to reality as I shook him. He shoved me off, looking clearly annoyed. "I don't know. I blurted it out. Are you crazy? There's no way anyone could've gotten in."

He started pacing back and forth, clearly on edge. "It must've been the noise from next door. I must've misheard because it was so loud. Yeah, that's it."

It sounded like he was trying to convince both himself and me.

But as I looked at him, at his evasive eyes, at his clenched fists, a terrible thought began to take hold in my heart. He was lying.

Last night, when he had shaken me awake, the first thing he had said was, "Someone's getting murdered next door."

He sounded absolutely certain. There wasn't a shred of doubt in his voice. But just now he was saying the sounds came from our living room.

He was contradicting himself, and his story was riddled with holes.

We were scrambling to escape, but he managed to grab both our phones.

It was not one, but both. One was his, one was mine. It was almost as if he'd planned it in advance.

I looked at his pajamas. There seemed to be something missing from there.

I remembered clearly. I'd bought these matching pajamas for us last month.

His pajamas had a decorative toggle right on the chest. Now, that toggle was missing, leaving only a few loose threads. My heart kept sinking, inch by inch.

Just then, David's phone rang. He checked the caller ID, and his face lost more color. It was the police.

He took a deep breath and answered the call, putting it on speaker.

A steady male voice came through the line. "Is this Mr. David Harper? This is the police.

"We need you and your wife, Mrs. Riley Harper, to come in and give a statement about the incident on the 17th floor of BlueBay Apartments last night."

David's voice was trembling. "Yes, officer. We'll be there right away."

David ended the call. Neither of us said a word as we looked at each other.

The tension in the motel room was suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

On the way to the police station, neither of us said a word.

I couldn't stop thinking about that missing toggle on his pajamas.

Why was that toggle gone? Did it get torn off when we were scrambling to escape? Or had someone ripped it off by force?

When we got to the police station, they separated us for questioning.

The officer handling my statement was a young woman. She asked the usual stuff, like what time we went to bed last night, if we heard anything, and what we saw.

I told her the whole story of how we escaped, nothing left out. Of course, I left out that strange thing David said at the end, and I didn't mention the missing horn button, either.

The officer recorded everything quickly. When she finished, she said, "Mrs. Harper, please wait here for a while. If you need anything, feel free to ask."

I nodded.

An hour later, David finished his interview with the police. He came over to me, his face paler than before. "We can go now."

As we walked out of the police station, the sunlight outside was a bit harsh. I squinted against the glare.

We were basically homeless now. Our place was taped off, officially part of the crime scene.

David said, "Let's grab some clothes and find a hotel to crash at."

I went along with it.

We walked into the mall, and David trailed behind me, looking totally out of it.

I walked into a men's clothing store, pretending to pick out clothes.

"How about this one?" I picked up a shirt.

While he wasn't paying attention, I snatched a spare button from the display rack. It was a plain black round button, nothing special. I clenched it tightly in my fist.

After leaving the mall, we headed straight for a five-star hotel, checked in, and settled down. David said he needed to calm our nerves.

I couldn't help but find it a little funny. He had a button from the crime scene on him, and he was still scared out of his mind.

Right when we walked into the hotel room, I saw that when David slipped off his shoes, a button dropped out from his pant leg.

It wasn't the decorative toggle from the pajamas I'd bought for him. It was a plain black suit button, smeared with dark red bloodstains.

He obviously hadn't noticed. While he was in the shower, I used a tissue to pick it up.

The button was exquisitely made, every detail perfect. A subtle, almost hidden engraving circled the edge, screaming worth a lot.

No way a regular guy like David would ever own something like this.

So, whose button could this possibly be? Could it have belonged to one of the eleven victims? Or could it have been the killer's? And why did it fall out of David's pant leg?

I didn't dare think any further. I tucked the blood-smeared button and the spare one I'd swiped from the men's shop together into my bag.

David came out after his shower and found me sitting on the sofa, staring blankly.

He came over and reached out, wanting to pull me into his arms. But I instinctively leaned away from him.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air, and His expression soured. "Riley, why did you avoid me?"

I looked at him, then suddenly laughed, "David, I suddenly realized that even though we've been married for three years, I don't think I've ever really known you at all."

As my words hung in the air, David's phone started ringing again. This time, the screen showed no caller ID. It was an unfamiliar number.

He hesitated, uncertain, then finally picked it up.

Whoever was on the other end said something, and David's face went very pale in an instant. His hand holding the phone started shaking uncontrollably.

"H-How could you do that? I already transferred the money. Why are you still coming after me?" He kept his voice down, but it was almost a snarl.

I was standing right behind him, hearing everything loud and clear. Money? What money? Who did he send it to?

David hung up the phone, looking completely drained of strength.

He turned around and saw me standing there, panic flooding his eyes. "D-Did you hear everything?"

I kept silent and stared at him. My eyes must've looked like I was staring at a dead man.

He looked unnerved by my stare, then suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my hands. "Riley, please, let me explain. It's not what you think. "I..."

He hadn't finished speaking when the hotel room door was suddenly kicked open from the outside.