Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(54)

Brody caught up with her. His own vehicle was parked on the road. “Where are you going now?”

Sweat dripped down her back. She swigged from a bottle of lukewarm water. A dull ache throbbed at the base of her skull. She’d missed lunch, but there was no way she’d be able to stomach food for a long time.

“I have to go tell Adam Miller his wife is dead and hope he doesn’t already know.” Leaning into the sweltering vehicle, she shoved the keys into the ignition and started the engine. Hot air blasted from the dashboard vents. “I need to call the chief and give him an update.”

“I’ll follow you. Let’s hope no one leaked the victim’s identity.”

“Miller shouldn’t find out about his wife’s death from a news report.” Stella shot an angry glare at the news vans crowding the parking area. On the blacktop in front of the fluttering yellow crime scene tape, the brunette spoke into a microphone.

“Murder is big news in Scarlet Falls,” Brody said, turning toward his own vehicle. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Stella jammed the car into drive. Her fingers clenched the steering wheel all the way to the Miller house. En route, she called Chief Horner and gave him a brief update on what they’d found at the scene. Then she parked at the curb, and Brody pulled in behind her. As they got out of their cars, the door burst open. A wild-eyed Adam stood on the front porch. “Was it her?”

Brody stayed close as Stella approached him.

“Was it my wife they found at the park?” Adam demanded, moving closer.

“Let’s go inside.” Thinking he might want privacy, Stella gestured toward the door. Her hand accidentally brushed his arm.

Adam jerked it away. “Don’t f*cking touch me.”

“Mr. Miller—” Stella soothed.

“Fuck you. Fuck your whole police department.” He cut her off, leaning in. Sweat coated his skin, moisture brightened his eyes, and the vein on the side of his neck bulged. “My wife was being murdered by a madman while you investigated me.”

“We need to ask you more questions,” Stella said. “I’d like you to come down to the police station.”

“I can’t believe this. My wife was kidnapped from our home and killed and you still want to question me? You are f*cking unbelievable.” Adam shook his head. His fist curled at his side. He wanted to hit her. She could see his barely contained rage rimming his eyes with white.

Apparently so could Brody. He inched forward.

But Stella didn’t budge. “Mr. Miller. I want to find out who killed your wife. You didn’t tell us she had a drug problem.”

Adam ground his molars. “That was two years ago.”

“It might be a factor in her death.” Stella gestured toward the street. Hedges might block the neighbors’ view, but sound traveled. “Are you sure you want to discuss this out here?”

Red-faced, Adam spun and strode into his house, leaving the front door open. Stella and Brody followed him into his kitchen.

Adam poured himself a generous two fingers of whiskey from a bottle on the counter and dropped into a kitchen chair. “As I told you before, she fell down the stairs four years ago and broke a bone in her neck. Even after surgery and rehab, she was in constant pain. The doctor prescribed oxycodone. I knew she was taking too many, but what could I say? She was hurting all the time, and the doctors didn’t have any options for her.” He set his glass down. “I knew she was in trouble when I found a needle in the back of her car.”

Stella took the chair facing Adam. Brody backed up and leaned on the counter.

“She said she went to heroin because oxy wasn’t enough for her pain. She’d built up a tolerance.” Adam took a deep swallow of liquor. “The second I found out, I got her into rehab.” Was he trying to convince Stella or himself that he’d done his best?

“Was it an inpatient rehab center?” Stella asked.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Where?”

He frowned. “It’s been years. It had a long name. New Life something.”

“The New Life Center for Hope?”

“That sounds right. Dena did well there. Everything seemed to be working out for us. She found her new physical therapist, who seemed to help her get some relief from the pain with diet, exercise, and meditation. She joined Narcotics Anonymous. She still goes to a meeting almost every night.”

“Do you know where she attended meetings?” Stella held her breath.

“The Catholic church. Our Lady of Sorrows.” He sipped his drink. “I can’t believe she went back to using, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m not suggesting anything.”

“Dena was moving forward. She didn’t have any interest in going back to being an addict. She told me once that she never wanted to feel that out of control again. It had been terrifying for her.” Adam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Had your wife been tested for drug use lately?” Stella asked.

He hesitated. “Not officially.”

“What do you mean, officially?”

Staring at his glass, Adam spun the tumbler on the tabletop. “I administered tests to her here at home.”

“At home?”

“Yes. You can buy the kits at the drug store. It’s a simple urine test. Gives you the results in minutes.” He tossed back the remaining whiskey and slammed the glass onto the table. “I did it randomly for her own good. I had to make sure she stayed clean.”