A Taste of Sin by Jennifer L. Jennings, Vicki Lorist Page B

down payment to poison his wife, then another installment once he gets the life insurance; but how did Paul and Hector meet in the first place?”
    “Maybe Hector put an ad in the paper: killer for hire.”
    I ignored Carter’s comment. “I’m so glad Emily is leaving that house. I’ll go over there first thing in the morning, take out the hidden cameras and drive Emily to the airport myself if Linda doesn’t.”
    “Anything else I can do?” Carter asked.
    “I guess not but thanks for all your help.”
    “No problem.”
    I poured myself another glass of wine and continued to keep an eye on the computer screen for any movement. I flipped through the TV channels and found a movie to watch. After a few minutes, my eyelids became so heavy I leaned back into a pillow and closed my eyes.
     
    I woke up from a startling sound coming from the TV.
    When I realized I had fallen asleep on the couch, I shot up to check the time.
    7:25 p.m.
    I had dozed off for forty-five minutes. Must have been the wine. I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the laptop. What was going on in Emily’s kitchen?
    There was some kind of commotion taking place but Emily and Paul were not among those people gathered. When I realized they were police officers, my stomach clenched.
    I rewound the footage and couldn’t believe my eyes.
    Around 7:06 p. m. Paul had entered the kitchen, wearing his gym attire. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottled water and drank most of it in one slug. When he turned around, Hector was standing behind him. Then, just like in the movies, Hector began stabbing Paul in the chest: once, twice and a third time in rapid succession.
    I stood there in complete shock, unable to move a muscle as I watched Paul collapse to the floor, his hands clutching his bloodstained chest.
    A gut-wrenching realization took hold as Hector turned and walked slowly toward the hallway—the handle of the bloody knife still clasped in his hand.
    … and I just knew.
    He was going to find Emily.
     
    I grabbed my car keys, purse and the SD card from the laptop, then headed for the door.
     
    I sped along highway 202 west and my brain clicked in to overdrive. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Emily’s lifeless body, stabbed repeatedly, lying in a pool of blood.
    She was probably dead and it was all my fault.
    I told myself to calm down and think rationally. The police were already there. Paul could still be alive. Emily, too but, deep down, I knew.
    Fifteen minutes later, I was on Emily’s street. The flashing lights from several police cruisers and two ambulances lit up the night sky. Looky-loos had gathered in small groups on both ends of the block to observe the spectacle.
    I pulled up and parked on the street behind one of the cruisers and got out of the car. 
    A uniformed officer stopped me before I made it to the front door.
    “Ma’am, this area is cordoned off. I’ll have to ask you to stay back.”
    I tried to see inside of the house. “Emily. Is she alive?”
    “Look, I’m sorry, but unless you’re a family member, I can’t give out any information at this time.”
    “I need to talk to the person in charge. I have important evidence pertaining to the crime that just took place here.”
    The officer jerked his head sideways. “Who are you?”
    “Sarah Woods. I’m sure your detectives will want to see the surveillance footage I have. The man with the knife … his real name is Julio Ramon Medina. Do you have him in custody?”
    “Just ... wait right here a minute.”
    I waited and watched for any glimpse. I could barely keep my head straight with all the flashing lights and commotion.
    Moments later, I watched as a pair of stretchers with body bags on them were wheeled out of the house.
    I almost fell to my knees as a middle-aged man with a badge on his hip approached me. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’m Detective James. Can I see some I.D. please?”
    “It’s in the car.”
    “How do you know the