“What do you mean, you found it.”
“We can’t have this conversation here.”
“Found it where.”
“Someplace it shouldn’t be.”
“Where.”
“Let’s go inside and talk.”
She said nothing. The can shook in her hand.
“Yesterday I was called to a homicide. Luke’s Camaro is in the victim’s garage. Can we go inside, please?”
“You’re wrong.”
“I—”
“It’s not his. You’re wrong.”
“I ran the tag. It’s his.”
“No, no. No.”
“I tried calling Luke to ask if he’d sold the car. If he left because of a fight, he should pick up when I call. He’s not. Scott can’t reach him, either. I traced his phone to a gas station. I went to look for it and found a gun, in the trash, with blood on it. So we cannot call the police and we cannot call my parents. Do you understand me?”
She began to cry.
A red SUV slowed at the curb. The window lowered and the driver leaned over. Middle-aged guy, bald, glasses. Bag of groceries belted into the passenger seat. “Everything okay here?”
“We’re good,” I said.
“Ma’am? You okay?”
Andrea stuck the pepper spray in her purse. She wiped her face. “Yes.”
“You sure?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
The guy frowned. “Do you need me to call someone?”
She brushed past me and walked toward my house.
I followed, allowing a ten-foot margin.
The SUV edged along behind until Andrea had turned up my front walk. Then it sped off.
Chapter 11
Back at the kitchen table Andrea drained her water in one go. “You’ve been lying to me,” she said.
“We’ll call it even.”
Silence.
“What do we do?” she said.
“The main thing is figuring out where he’s gone. I need your help. You know him better than anyone.”
She tilted her chin upward in grim satisfaction: Of course she did.
“I need to ask some questions without you getting upset. Can you do that?”
“I’m not a child, Clay.”
“No, you’re not. Besides the gun that I saw at your house, do you own any others?”
“No.”
“Is there a chance Luke might’ve gotten ahold of one for himself?”
“No.”
“Would he have told you if he did?”
“Why are you asking me if you don’t believe me?”
“I do believe you. But we both know he’s not allowed to own a firearm. He might’ve kept it a secret to avoid incriminating you.”
“We trust each other.”
I decided not to touch that one. “Fair enough. How’s your financial situation?”
“Why does that matter?”
“The only other explanation I can come up with for the Camaro being at the victim’s house is that Luke sold it to him. Why would he do that it unless he felt he had to? You know how much he loves that car.”
“Not everything is about money, Clay. Not everyone thinks that way.”
“What round of IVF are you on?”
Her mouth pinched.
“Eight,” she said. “Plus four courses of IUI.”
“That’s expensive.”
“I know what it costs.” She tucked her feet under her. “We borrowed.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“How much is left?”
A shake of the head: Nothing. “Luke wants to stop.”
“Is that what you were fighting about?”
She barked a laugh. “He said we should get a horse, instead.”
“Are you behind on your payments?”
“No.”
“When does the loan come due?”
“It’s... There’s no deadline.” A beat. “It’s from your parents.”
My mother is an office manager. My father teaches middle school math and science.
“How can they afford that?” I asked.
“They took a second mortgage. What’s the first explanation?”
“What explanation?”
“You said money was ‘the only other explanation’ for the car being there. What’s the first explanation?”
I didn’t answer.
Andrea shrank back in revulsion. “You think he did it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. I can read you. You’re thinking it.”
“What I think is we need to find him before anyone else does, and to do that we need to line up all the facts, regardless of how unpleasant they might be. He might not be in any trouble.”
“You just got through telling me he is.”
“I said might. I could be wrong. I hope I am. Scott thought Luke could’ve taken off to clear his head. Maybe he talked to my parents. I’ll find out. But I guarantee that if you tell them he’s missing, they’re going to panic. They’re going to want to know why we haven’t called the police. It doesn’t matter what I say. They’ll make an end run around me. Then it’s out of our hands.”
“So?” she said. “We should call the police.”
“A missing adult, they won’t do a thing. The only way to get them interested is if there’s an indication of foul play, and the only way to do that is either to lie to them or to tell them about the car. And you don’t want to do either of those things. Because whatever you believe I think about Luke, I guarantee it’s better than what some random cop is going to think.”
She wiped her face again, roughly.
I said, “I’m sorry to have to ask this, but is there a chance he could be seeing someone else?”
“That’s what you come up with? One fight and he’s having an affair? No. There’s no one else. I know him and he knows me. If he wants to be free, I’d let him.”
“Okay. Who else would he turn to in a pinch? Who’s he close with?”
“Scott’s who comes to mind.”
“People from his gym? Couples you socialize with?”
“We keep to ourselves.”
“You must have friends.”
“Of course we have friends.”
I took a pad and pen from the counter. “Make a list.”
“They’re not going to talk to you. You could be anyone. I’ll do it.”
“The whole point of this is to keep things quiet.”
“No, Clay. The whole point is Luke.”
The thought of her ad-libbing made me uneasy. But I’d involved her. She was a variable I now had to account for. On top of that, it was in my interest to keep her occupied. “Fine. Call them and let me know what they say. Call your credit card companies and see if he’s used his recently. The more dead ends you can eliminate, the better. What about people from NA?”
“I told you, he’s clean.”
“Okay, but he spends time with them, and he might tell them things he doesn’t tell you. Where does he attend meetings?”
She rolled her empty water glass between her fingers. “We’ve moved on.”
“Moved on from what?”
She did not answer.
“He’s stopped going,” I said. “Am I hearing you right? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying we’re beyond that.”
“What happened to ‘Once an addict, always an addict’?”
“A one-size-fits-all approach might help in the beginning, but an individual’s needs change over time. You want to be rigid, be rigid. Are you the same person you were when you were twenty?”
“Why would you stop doing something that’s working?”
“It wasn’t working. Not for us. You’re not listening.”