When the doctor advised Colleen to stay somewhere she could rest for the sake of her pregnancy, I knew this solution could benefit both of us.
She’d already filled the void Joanna left in my heart.
Soon she’d do the same for my home.
And maybe one day soon, I would finally clear out the east wing.
Detective Shaw looks up from his notebook. “Mr. Harris, when did your wife leave the marital home?”
“July.” My attention flickers between them. “July sixteenth, to be specific.”
“And, just to be clear, you’re stating that Mrs. Harris didn’t take anything with her when she left?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Didn’t that strike you as strange?”
Chewing on the inside of my lip, I wonder how they expect me to answer such a question. “I suppose so.”
“Why do you think she left everything behind?”
“Why does a wife leave her husband of five years? I have no idea. I can only assume she left everything here because she wanted to start a new life—one without me, or anything that would remind her of me, in it.”
The words carve a hole right through the center of me because I know they’re true.
“What about her wedding ring?” Shaw asks nonchalantly. “Did she leave that behind too?”
I pause, thinking back to the last day I saw her. It was the morning of our anniversary. She’d had her diamond on, I’m sure of it. The only reason I remember is because I’d taken her hand that morning and kissed it. The angles of her diamond had pressed into my lips. I’d wished her a happy anniversary and told her I’d see her at dinner that evening.
She never showed.
I’d received a goodbye text instead. I don’t blame her really. Not after the blowup we’d had the night before.
“As far as I know she took her wedding ring with her.” And then it clicks. “She’s missing her ring, isn’t she? That’s why you’re here. She thinks I took it. She’s reported it stolen.”
“She is missing her ring, but that’s not the whole story.” Shaw’s eyes drift over my shoulder. “You must be Colleen.”
I turn. She’s wearing black leggings and an oversized sweater, her hair damp and falling loose across her shoulders. Even from where I stand, I can smell the sweet scent of her conditioner.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Going over to her, I drape my arm around her shoulders and tug her against me. “They’re here looking for Joanna’s wedding ring.”
She frowns and opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, Patel says, “Maybe you two should sit down.”
I glare at him, then release Colleen and plop onto the couch. I get the bizarre feeling that my legs aren’t a part of the rest of my body. Colleen sits beside me, her hand clutching my knee.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mr. Harris,” Patel continues, “but your wife, Joanna Harris, is dead. We believe her body was the one we recovered in the grove across the street.”
“I’m sorry,” I muster, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to wipe away the blur. “I—I can’t believe—That has to be wrong. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m afraid we’re not,” Shaw says. I’m really starting to dislike him. “Partial DNA came back an hour ago. Her sister called after being notified by a friend about last night’s news broadcast. She’d been out of the country since June, and hadn’t thought much about the lack of contact with her sister…until she learned that a woman’s body was discovered across the street from Joanna’s home.”
“My home,” I correct.
“Your home.” Shaw eyes me carefully. “Working with law enforcement in L.A., Heather—Joanna’s sister—came in and volunteered to have her cheek swabbed. There were a significant number of shared markers between her DNA and that of the woman we found.”
“How long