The precinct was busy. End of a holiday weekend. The world gone crazy. Detectives were speaking into phones and writing at their desks and talking to witnesses and listening as victims told detectives about their victimization. Noisy. Active. People coming and going. Phones ringing. Kevin walked toward his desk, one of four in the middle of the room. Through the open door, Bill waved but stayed in his office. Ramirez and Coffey were at their desks, sitting across from him.
“You okay?” Coffey asked. Coffey was in his forties, overweight and balding. “You look like hell.”
“I didn’t sleep well,” Kevin said.
“I don’t sleep well without Janet, either. When’s Erin coming back?”
Kevin kept his expression neutral.
“Next weekend. I’ve got a few days coming and we’ve decided to go to the Cape. We haven’t been there in years.”
“Yeah? My mom lives there. Where at the Cape?”
“Provincetown.”
“So does she. You’ll love it there. I go there all the time. Where are you staying?”
Kevin wondered why Coffey kept asking questions. “I’m not sure,” he finally said. “Erin’s making the arrangements.”
Kevin walked toward the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, even though he didn’t want any. He’d have to find the name of a bed-and-breakfast and a couple of restaurants, so if Coffey asked about it, he’d know what to say.
His days followed the same routine. He worked and talked to witnesses and finally went home. His work was stressful and he wanted to relax when he finished, but everything was different at home and the work stayed with him. He’d once believed that he would get used to the sight of murder victims, but their gray, lifeless faces were etched in his memory, and sometimes the victims visited him in his sleep.
He didn’t like going home. When he finished his shift, there was no beautiful wife to greet him at the door. Erin had been gone since January. Now, his house was messy and dirty and he had to do his own laundry. He hadn’t known how to work the washing machine, and the first time he ran it he added too much soap and the clothes came out looking dingy. There were no home-cooked meals or candles on the table. Instead, he grabbed food on the way home and ate on the couch. Sometimes, he put on the television. Erin liked to watch HGTV, the home and garden channel on cable, so he often watched that and when he did, the emptiness he felt inside was almost unbearable.
After work he no longer bothered to store his gun in the gun box he kept in his closet; in the box, he had a second Glock for his personal use. Erin had been afraid of guns, even before he’d placed the Glock to her head and threatened to kill her if she ever ran away again. She’d screamed and cried as he’d sworn that he’d kill any man she slept with, any man she cared about. She’d been so stupid and he’d been so angry with her for running away and he demanded the name of the man who had helped her so he could kill him. But Erin had screamed and cried and begged for her life and swore there wasn’t a man and he believed her because she was his wife. They’d made their vows in front of God and family and the Bible says Thou shalt not commit adultery. Even then, he hadn’t believed that Erin had been unfaithful. He’d never believed another man was involved. While they were married, he’d made sure of that. He made random calls to the house throughout the day and never let her go to the store or to the hair salon or to the library by herself. She didn’t have a car or even a license and he swung by their house whenever he was in the area, just to make sure she was at home. She hadn’t left because she wanted to commit adultery. She left because she was tired of getting kicked and punched and thrown down the cellar stairs and he knew he shouldn’t have done those things and he always felt guilty and apologized but it still hadn’t mattered.
She shouldn’t have run away. It broke his heart because he loved her more than life and he’d always taken care of her. He bought her a house and a refrigerator and a washer and dryer and new furniture. The house had always been clean, but now the sink was full