Dear Wife - Kimberly Belle Page 0,18

with the stone columns at the entrance and the big, colorful sign. I don’t have the address for the house she was showing, but it was in that development—her boss Lisa can tell you which one. Lisa’s name is at the top of the second page, but you’ll have to track down her number. Unfortunately, I don’t have it.”

I pass out the glasses of water, and the detective doesn’t look at me, but I can sense his judgment. The husband and sister are not friends. The sister is better informed than the husband. Neither reflects well on our marriage.

“When is the last time either of you talked to Sabine?” he says.

“I talked to her twice yesterday morning,” Ingrid says. “The last time was at just before eleven. She was on her way to the office. But Jeffrey spoke to her later in the day, in the afternoon.”

The lie comes back to me in a flash of icy hot. Ingrid, interrupting my jog, asking to speak to Sabine. Me, telling Ingrid I’d spoken to Sabine only an hour earlier so I could get back to my run. If I repeat the lie now, it would take the detective all of two seconds to catch me in it. One look at my call log would prove me wrong.

I sink onto the chair across from Ingrid and shake my head. “No, I didn’t. I said I talked to Sabine yesterday morning, right before I boarded my connection in Atlanta.” I turn to the detective, explaining, “I’ve been in Florida all week, at a sales conference.”

Ingrid’s head whips in my direction, and she glares across the table. “When I called you, at just before five, you said you’d talked to her an hour ago. So around four.”

“You must have misunderstood.”

She presses both hands to the wooden table, and they’re shaking. “I heard you loud and clear, Jeffrey. I asked when did you talk to her last, and you said an hour ago.”

“Do you want to see my call log? I didn’t say that, and I didn’t talk to her.”

The detective raises both brows, taking a long breath through his nose like a parent might, when he’s had it with his two squabbling toddlers. “Okay, okay, let’s just back up here for a second. Am I to understand that neither of you talked to her since yesterday morning, is that correct?”

I nod. “Yes. That’s correct.”

“Apparently so,” Ingrid mumbles.

“And when you talked to her, did she mention anything out of the ordinary? Maybe that her car was acting funny, or that she had an errand to run in another town, anything like that?”

Ingrid and I shake our heads. Finally, something we agree on.

“And this showing last night. Any idea who it was with?”

She waits until I shake my head again, then juts a triumphant chin. “I don’t know his name, but he was from out of town. Some executive who’s just started at the Tyson plant. Sabine had found him temporary housing while he searched for a house—an apartment just off 530, but now his wife was coming to town. This showing was more for her than for him. He already loved the house.”

I’m silent, and also a little shocked. Ingrid’s knowledge of her sister’s business, all the particulars and detail. Sabine didn’t tell me any of this—or maybe she did. Maybe I just wasn’t listening. What else have I missed?

Detective Durand consults Ingrid’s notes, taps the page with his pen. “This Lisa O’Brien will be able to tell me his name?” He’s no longer directing his questions at me.

“I’m sure she can,” Ingrid says. “In fact, if I had her number, I would have already called to ask. Can you, I don’t know, look her up in your system or something?”

“I’ll contact Ms. O’Brien, absolutely. I’ll also drive by the development and see if anything looks out of the ordinary. I’m not saying it will be—I just want to be sure, to cover all the bases. If I do find any signs of foul play—” the words make me twitch like a spider “—I’ll put a trace on her phone and contact you immediately.”

“Can’t you do that now? Trace her phone, I mean. Because if something’s happened, if she’s hurt or...” Ingrid shakes her head, swallowing. “I just don’t think we should waste any more time.”

“I’m not going to waste any time, I assure you. A missing person is about as high priority as you can get. And I’m sorry to have to ask this,

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