Crazy In Love (Secrets of Suburbia #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,5

A case that had helped give me confidence that I could get away with the perfect crime. It was also a case that proved Detective Torres was terrible at his job. I couldn't believe my luck. Tonight couldn't be going any better! I tried to hide my smile.

"Hello, Miss. I'm Detective..."

"Torres," I said, cutting him off. He was just as handsome as he was on TV. "I know who you are. I mean, I've seen you on the news. You were working on the Violet Clark case. You were partners with Detective Tucker Reed. Is it true that he ran away with her? That they fled the country together before all those bodies were pulled out of the lake? Did she really murder all those people?" I looked behind Detective Torres like his partner would be plastered to his side. But he was all alone.

Detective Torres lowered his eyebrows as he watched me.

I swallowed down the rest of what I knew about him. I wasn't supposed to be excited to see him. And my excitement was getting the better of me - making me look like a crime show junkie instead of a worried housewife. A sympathetic wife with a missing husband who I loved dearly. "Never mind, it's not important," I said. "All that matters is that you're here to help me find my husband. It's all I can think about." But God, I wished that I was meeting Detective Torres under different circumstances where I could ask him every detail about his last case. Violet Clark was kind of an idol of mine. After all...she'd successfully gotten away with murder.

He nodded. "I need to know everything about the last time you saw your husband. Who you've reached out to. How long he's been missing." He pulled out a notebook. "Can I come in?"

Part of me had been hoping I could just tell him everything on the front porch. I looked past him at the cookie-cutter houses on the lane I lived on. I wasn't sure which was worse - a detective on my front porch, igniting gossip around the whole neighborhood, or a detective inside my house.

In my house. Definitely in my house. I was a kidnapper! "Actually, could we go for a walk? I feel like I need some fresh air or I'm going to lose my mind." Don’t talk about losing your mind in front of a detective! I cleared my throat as I grabbed my jacket. "I mean, I just need some air to clear my head. I've been cooped up all night fretting."

"Yeah, that's fine," Detective Torres said as I shut the door, not leaving him much of a choice.

Classic Detective Torres. I was already outmaneuvering him. As we walked down my driveway, I was vaguely aware of him staring down at my pink slippers. And even more aware of the fact that I was wearing my comfy pajamas in front of a local celebrity. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and turned onto the street.

Maybe I imagined it, but I swear I saw neighbors peeking out their blinds at the two of us walking down the street. Normally it was easy to see inside their windows at night, but all their houses were aglow with Christmas lights, casting weird shadows on the glass. But I could feel them staring. Judging. I tried to focus on the person standing next to me. I couldn't avoid the gossip now. I was already two feet in. Two slippered feet in. "So what were your questions?" I asked.

"How long has your husband been missing?"

"The last time I saw him was this morning before work. Everything seemed normal. He wasn't acting strange at all. It was just a normal workday. But when he didn't come home tonight, I started calling friends and family. Apparently he never showed up to work today." The lies came so naturally. I was basically already a pro.

Detective Torres jotted something down in his notebook. "Is there anyone you haven't reached out to yet?"

"I've talked to everyone I could think of. I've been going crazy all night." Again with the lunatic talk. If I kept saying things like that he'd lock me up before our walk was over. "Crazy with worry, I mean. I'm not crazy. You can ask anyone." Stop talking right now.

I swore I saw a flash of a smile on his lips.

"What time does your husband usually come home from work?" he asked.

I pushed my hands into my pajama

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