seen. The wall unit spanned almost the full length of the far wall, made out of what appeared to be cherry. He couldn't imagine affording something so nice -- not until his kids were out of post-secondary school.
"Please, Officer. What's this about?" she asked.
"Mrs. Livingston, do you by any chance, know where your husband is?" he asked her in response.
"I only got home about fifteen minutes ago. One of the kids had hockey practice. Andrew is usually home by five o'clock. It's now after eight and I haven't heard from him. He was supposed to take them to practice, but he wasn't here. He never misses a practice. Most days we text each other at least a few times, but today, nothing. He hasn't replied to my texts or calls all day. I was starting to get really worried, and now you show up asking questions. Let me tell you -- I'm not getting the warm fuzzies here."
Cliff looked at her.
There's just no easy way to do this.
"Does your husband drive a dark blue Lexus LS?" he asked.
"Yes, he does. Why? Is he okay?" she asked, growing more impatient.
"Your husband's car has been found in a parking lot at the foot of the Thousand Islands Bridge, near Gananoque."
"That's three and a half hours away. Why would he be there?"
"That's what I'm here to ask you. And what's more, the bridge is closed to pedestrians after dusk and he is nowhere to be found." He paused to let her absorb what he was saying. "Is there any reason you're aware of, why his vehicle might be parked there?"
She shook her head. "I have no idea."
"Was he upset about anything, or in any sort of trouble you might be aware of?" Cliff asked.
"Why are you asking me this? Is he okay? What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.
"Mrs. Livingston, we don't have enough information at this time. The O.P.P. found his car and they're now trying to ensure he's alive and well."
From the sofa, he could see into the dining room, noting it also had beautiful furniture. "Mrs. Livingston, what can you tell me about your husband. What type of work does he do? Who are his friends? Anyone upset with him? That sort of thing."
She replied, "Andrew's an accountant at Lewis, Miller and Marlin, downtown -- mainly big corporate cases, some government files -- as far as I know. He doesn't talk about work much. They keep him pretty busy. Other than work and spending a bit of time with us, he doesn't have a lot of free time. He doesn't have any real hobbies and doesn't have many friends he hangs with. We're pretty busy with the kids."
"Are you aware of any of the companies or jobs he's been working on recently?"
"I know he hasn't enjoyed work lately. A few months ago, he was quite upset about something, but he didn't really talk about it. He got extremely paranoid, though. He thought he might lose his job and he was even convinced he was being followed. When he complained to his boss, they moved some people around and Andrew stopped complaining, but he never seemed happy after that. His boss also had Andrew start seeing a staff counsellor for stress. Apparently the stress and pressure there is so bad there they need their own counsellor on staff. What does that tell you? I've wanted him to leave for a while now, but he felt if he stuck it out, it'd be all right."
"Can you give me the contact information for his boss or any co-workers?" Cliff asked.
She gave him two names, one of Andrew's supervisor, and one of a friend at work Andrew thought he could trust.
Cliff said he had to be on his way, thanked her for the information, and asked her to call him directly if she heard from her husband. As she walked him to the door, he also told her he'd keep her informed of anything they found. On his way to the car he stopped and turned around. "Mrs. Livingston," he called out, just before she shut the door. "Do you mind if I ask what kind of work you do?"
"I work part-time at a clothing store. I try to limit my hours with the kids being young. Why do you ask?"
"You have a beautiful house, Mrs. Livingston. I just assumed you were a decorator. Thanks again," he said as he turned and walked to his car.
Chapter 10
Bill Roberts
Bill stepped from the interrogation room, walked