Chương 2
Claire looked toward the apartment door.
“Why would Ethan have it?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel’s voice had gone flat.
Claire had heard him sound like that only once before, the morning police confirmed that human remains found near an abandoned service road belonged to Natalie.
“Has Ethan ever said anything about having it?”
“No.”
“He never told you she gave him anything?”
“No.”
“Did she know him well?”
Daniel hesitated.
That hesitation had started everything else.
Not the ring.
Not really.
The hesitation.
“How well?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
“Daniel.”
“There were messages.”
Claire stood.
“What messages?”
“Between Natalie and Ethan.”
Claire gripped the back of the chair.
“What kind?”
“Nothing sexual.”
He said it too quickly.
Claire closed her eyes.
“What kind, Daniel?”
“After she disappeared, police pulled phone records. Ethan had texted her several times the week before. She answered some. They met at least once.”
“And you never told me?”
“I thought you knew.”
“No.”
“Claire, I really thought he’d told you. He said he had.”
“When?”
“During the search.”
Claire laughed once, softly, because there was no other sound her body seemed willing to produce.
“What did he tell you they met about?”
“Natalie was looking into selling her share of the business.”
“What business?”
Daniel said nothing.
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Daniel.”
“Ours.”
Daniel and Natalie had owned a small commercial property management company together. Claire knew that. She also knew Natalie handled leasing while Daniel dealt with repairs and construction. Ethan had done work for them.
“Why would she talk to Ethan about selling her share?”
“That’s what I asked.”
“And?”
“He told police she wanted advice because you two had refinanced your place and he knew some people in commercial lending.”
Claire stared at the wall.
Ethan did not know people in commercial lending.
Claire did.
She worked in risk compliance for a regional bank.
Ethan hated financial paperwork and once spent forty minutes looking for a tax document that had been attached to an email he had already forwarded to Claire.
She said, “That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“You knew it made no sense?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing to me.”
“I was trying to find my wife.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t get to say that.”
Daniel exhaled.
Claire heard traffic behind him.
“Where are you?”
“In my truck.”
“Come here.”
“Claire—”
“Come here now.”
She ended the call before he could refuse.
Then she texted Ethan.
Where are you?
He responded four minutes later.
Leaving site. Why?
She stared at the words.
Which site?
Another delay.
Riverside.
Claire knew the Riverside job.
It was twenty-five minutes away.
She called Ethan.
He did not answer.
She called again.
No answer.
The third time, he picked up.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“I just told you.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
There was a small sound in the background.
A hollow metallic drip.
Claire’s eyes moved to the red box on the table.
“Riverside,” Ethan said.
“Are you inside?”
“Why?”
“Are you inside?”
“No. Parking structure.”
Rain hammered somewhere behind him.
Claire looked out the kitchen window. Rain had started ten minutes earlier.
“Which parking structure?”
“Claire, what is this?”
She almost asked him directly.
Instead she said, “I need the car.”
“Our car is downstairs.”
“The black sedan.”
Another silence.
The sedan belonged to Ethan’s company, though the title was in both their names because Claire’s credit had helped secure the financing.
“I have it.”
“Where?”
“Why do you need it?”
“Where?”
“Franklin garage.”
Not Riverside.
Franklin was downtown.
Fifteen minutes from their apartment.
And two blocks from the building Natalie had managed before she died.
Claire’s heartbeat became slow and heavy.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“For what?”
She ended the call.
Daniel arrived six minutes later.
He looked as if he had put on the first clothes within reach. Dark sweater, work pants, raincoat unbuttoned. His hair was wet around the temples.
Claire held up the ring box.
He stopped in the doorway.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then he reached for it.
Claire pulled her hand back.
“Not yet.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“That belongs to me.”
“It belonged to Natalie.”
“She was my wife.”
“And Ethan is mine.”
Daniel flinched.
Claire hated herself for being satisfied by that.
She slipped the box into the pocket of her cream blouse, then immediately realized how visible the shape was. She moved it into the front pocket of her jeans.
“Why Franklin?” Daniel asked.
“He says he’s there.”
“So?”
“So he lied about Riverside first.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“We call the police.”
“With what? A ring?”
“A ring taken off my dead wife.”
“We don’t know that Ethan took it.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You believe she handed it to him?”
“I believe I don’t know.”
“That ring was missing from her body.”
“We don’t know when it came off.”
His mouth tightened.
“Police know.”
Claire looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel did not answer quickly enough.
“What do police know?”
“They know when she died.”
“So do I. The news said sometime between Tuesday night and early Wednesday.”
“No.”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
“The public estimate was broad.”
Claire felt suddenly cold.
“What was the actual estimate?”
“They narrowed it later.”
“To when?”
“Before ten Tuesday night.”
Claire stared at him.
Natalie had disappeared on Tuesday.
Ethan had told Claire he had been working late that night.
At Franklin.
She reached for her coat.
Daniel said, “Claire.”
“What?”
“If he has that ring, and he was there—”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you know.”
She turned on him.
“What would you like me to look like?”
Daniel opened his mouth, then shut it.
Claire pulled on her coat.
May you like
The button snagged in her hair. She yanked it free harder than necessary.
“I don’t know if my husband cheated on me, stole from a dead woman, lied to police, helped somebody hide a murder, or killed your wife,” she said. “I have had approximately eleven minutes to consider the options. I’m doing the best I can.”
