The Stranger Beside You by William Casey Moreton

enough to have come with the frame. 
    Chapman closed his door and greeted us.
    “What happened to my husband?” I said the instant he took his seat.
    “The investigation is ongoing,” he said. 
    “The last time I saw him, he was with you, and he was alive.  Now he’s dead.  I demand an explanation.”
    Chapman held eye contact with me for a few seconds.  He tapped his thumb against the desktop as his gaze moved past my shoulder to the office activity beyond the glass wall.  I could see he was choosing his words carefully.
    “Let me be very clear,” he said.  “We arrested your husband this morning because he was suspected of murdering a federal agent.  While in custody, he attacked another federal agent and an NYPD officer, and attempted to escape.  That choice was his.  He died because he ran.  Had he not, he would still be in federal custody and would have received all the rights guaranteed him by the Constitution.  He would have gotten his day in court and had the opportunity to prove his innocence.  So, while I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Nelson, from my perspective he remains the prime suspect in the murder of a highly respected colleague.”
    “I can’t believe my ears!  Why would my husband kill anyone?  He was a successful businessman.  He loved his family.  You mentioned this woman again.  Why should I believe he’d ever met her, and what motive would he have to kill her?”
    Chapman paused a beat.  The leather of his office chair made a soft crinkly sound as he shifted his weight slightly forward.  He exchanged a short look with Clive, then he pulled open a desk drawer and removed a manila envelope.  He placed the envelope flat on the center of his desk.
    “So you’re asking for a motive?”
    My rage was simmering.  “Yes.”
    “He killed her to shut her up.”
    I was dumbfounded.  “Shut her up?  What is that supposed to mean?”
    “My guess is she threatened to tell you.”
    “Tell me what?”
    “About them.”
    “Who is them ?  And what about them?”
    “Your husband and the woman, Special Agent Daphne Fleming.”
    “That’s her name?”
    Chapman nodded.
    “What would she have told me?”
    “They were having an affair.”
    My stomach dropped.  I stared at the man seated behind the desk but for a long moment my mind went blank.  Clive had tried to prepare me for this on the ride up in the elevator, but it was now clear he’d done a poor job.
    There was an impulse to smile and to laugh at the absurdity of the accusation.  Chapman was pouring salt on an open wound.  My husband’s body was still warm, and yet Chapman had the audacity to call him an adulterer. 
    “I should slap the crap out of you,” I said.  “How dare you.”
    He was unmoved.
    “My husband was the most faithful man who ever lived.”
    “I think you are missing some of the facts,” Chapman said.
    I was seething.  I could feel the color rising in my face.
    “This conversation is over,” I said as I stood.
    Clive stood quickly and touched my arm.
    “Brynn, please.  You need to listen to what he has to say.”
    I was so dizzy I could barely see straight.  I was ready to storm out but sat back down instead.  It was a very lonely feeling.
    Chapman continued, “As I was saying, we have reason to believe that your husband and Special Agent Fleming had been involved in an intense physical relationship for some time.  At some point, for whatever reason, Special Agent Fleming must have threatened him with revealing their relationship to you.  Perhaps she was jealous of the marriage and wanted him to herself, or perhaps Tom had threatened to break it off with her and she wanted to hurt him by confronting you.  The details are a still unclear, but Tom couldn’t afford to let that happen.  He had to stop her by any means necessary.  Her body was found in a river with a single bullet hole in her head.  She would likely still be floating out there if we hadn’t received an anonymous