runny.
"It's only 10 o'clock. Maybe he went out for drinks or something?"
Something like that. "No, he always comes straight home. And I've tried to call him a hundred times." I pretended to sob, but it sounded more like a hog squealing. Oops. I'd have to practice my fake crying tonight.
But the dispatcher's voice softened like she believed I was terribly upset. "I can get an officer out to speak with you right away."
Wait, what? "Right now?" I glanced at the hand cart I'd used to pull his body out of the car and through the house. And then my eyes landed on the deadbolt on the basement door.
"Yes, ma'am. Someone will be out in fifteen minutes or less."
Shit. All the crime shows said they’d wait at least 24 hours. A cop couldn't show up right now. I was supposed to go to the police station tomorrow night. I had it all planned out to the minute. They were never supposed to come here. Ever. "Are you sure that's necessary?" I asked.
"Of course. If you truly believe he's missing?"
"Mhm." My voice was oddly high pitched. "Would it be easier if I came down to the precinct?"
"Not at all necessary. An officer is already en route."
Holy hell. I stood up and ran over to the hand cart. I needed to get it back in my garage. There was also duct tape and rope on my kitchen island. My stomach churned. I'm going to end up in prison. "Thank you," I said.
"We'll find him," she said very calmly.
Probably because she heard the panic in my voice. But I wasn't panicking over my husband. I couldn’t care less about him. He wasn’t going anywhere. I was panicking because I thought I'd have all morning to practice my distraught face. I looked happy and cozy in my pajamas...not at all like a scared-to-death housewife. How had I already messed up my plan only an hour and a half in?
"Stay strong," the dispatcher said.
"You too." You too? God, I was going to ruin everything. I hung up before I could say anything else stupid...like a confession.
After putting the handcart back in the garage and shoving the duct tape and rope under the kitchen sink, I double-checked the deadbolt on the basement door. Locked. Everything was secure. I could do this. I looked down at my pajamas. All I needed to do was change.
As soon as I entered my bedroom, I saw my reflection in the floor-length mirror. I was still wearing my blonde wig. If anyone at the bar remembered us from tonight, they'd identify me completely wrong. A blonde and her drunk beau from the team-building conference. The cops would be spinning in circles for weeks. But not if they showed up and I was still wearing it like a kidnapping novice. The pros made all of this look so easy.
I pulled off my blonde wig and threw it into the closet. Maybe the pajamas worked. I looked innocent and scared. Innocent was good. I pulled my hair into a messy bun, leaving a few strands out to make me look more frantic. Look scared. I made a face in the mirror that could only be described as joyful. Because that was how I'd been feeling up until several minutes ago. Joyful. But my plan was falling apart right in front of my eyes. Damn it, I was totally screwed.
The doorbell rang.
I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders as I made one last attempt at a scared face. My eyes grew big and round. My bottom lip trembled. Perfect. I could do this.
I ran down the stairs, my phone in my hand like I'd just been calling all of my husband's friends instead of working on my facial expressions. But as my hand reached out to open the door, I realized I wouldn't have to really act. My joy had quickly been replaced with these anxious nerves butterflying around in my stomach. I just wasn't worried about my husband's whereabouts. I was worried about the police unlocking my basement door. I was worried about being caught red-handed.
The doorbell rang again and I opened it, shoving my worries aside.
Because standing there was none other than Detective Damien Torres. The nervous butterflies in my stomach were replaced by fan-girl butterflies. Everyone knew everyone around here. But I wasn't excited because I'd seen him around town a few times. I was excited because Detective Torres had worked a local case I'd been following closely on the news.