On the other hand, he didn’t know Gavin outside of the man’s work. Some lawyers made a point of building personal relationships with the police, figuring that would help their clients when they needed a rule bent or a misdemeanor overlooked. Not Gavin. He was smart, committed, and hardworking, but he was also an enigma, hiding his personality behind those strange blue eyes. Over the years, he’d shared almost nothing about his private life or his family. Stride hadn’t even known that he was married until he heard about the abduction. It was difficult to trust someone who was a stranger.
“So what can you tell me about the search for Chelsey?” Gavin asked.
“The tip line has been up and running for more than twenty-four hours, and we’re getting dozens of calls. So far, nothing has panned out, but everyone’s on overtime pursuing leads.”
“I hear you’re talking to my clients. I can’t say I like that.”
“Crimes like this typically don’t involve random victims. You were targeted. That means the likeliest suspect pool is people who know you.”
“I understand that,” Gavin replied, “but just because I’m the victim, don’t think I won’t come down hard on the police if you harass my clients. I’m still their lawyer. So tread lightly.”
“No one’s being harassed. We’re just asking questions.”
Gavin gave a cynical grunt, then reached for his coffee. He glanced up at the blue sky, noting a helicopter flying low along the lakeshore. “I’ve been seeing a lot of helicopters yesterday and today.”
“Yes, they’re part of the search,” Stride replied.
“Search,” Gavin said, curling his lip at the word. “You mean they’re searching for a body. Follow the lakeshore and the banks of the river. See if a corpse washes up. I know the protocol, Stride. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Stride wasn’t going to lie to him, because Gavin was right. “Have you had any further contact from the kidnappers?”
“No. Do you have any suspects?”
“Not yet.”
“Except me,” Gavin said.
Stride shrugged. “You’re not a suspect, Gavin, but we do have questions. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
“Naturally.” He got up and went to the railing with his coffee. His sweatshirt fit loosely, which made him look even skinnier than he was. “One of my clients called and said she’d heard people were asking on the street about hundred-dollar bills. I assume that means you know about the ransom. I also assume that means you found out about Broadway.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not talking about him. Attorney-client privilege.”
“Privilege doesn’t cover the other people at the games. And someone at the games could easily have been involved in the kidnapping. Anyone seeing you there would have known you’d come into money and that you had access to large amounts of cash.”
“Sorry, it’s all off-limits.”
“You’d rather protect Broadway than help us find your wife?”
“I’m a lawyer. That means I have professional responsibilities. Those don’t change based on my own circumstances.”
“Well, I’m not asking about your work as a lawyer. I’m asking about you as a player. You found yourself in a lot of debt, didn’t you? And Chelsey knew about it?”
“Yes.”
“Who told her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You two argued about it?”
“Yes, but I paid it all off.”
“Except you were still playing, weren’t you? She was afraid you’d blow through the inheritance. Gamble it away.”
“I have a problem. I admit that. I’m getting help for it.”
“When did you last play?”
He hesitated. “No comment.”
“How was your marriage, Gavin?”
Gavin turned around, and his luminous blue eyes seemed to levitate. “Well, we’re down to it now, aren’t we? You must love this part.”
Stride said nothing, but in fact, he didn’t love this part. He took no joy in exposing the things people liked to keep hidden about their lives. Their secrets. Their lies. He hated ripping off the masks they wore, showing all their vulnerabilities for the rest of the world to see. Being forced to do it made him not like himself very much. But that was the job.
“Your marriage,” he said again, like a dog with a bone.
Gavin looked up at the sky, as if in prayer, and then back at Stride. “Chelsey and I weren’t always happy. I’m sure you’ve already guessed that. She married a corporate lawyer, a man who was supposed to do patents and IP deals and sip martinis at Black Water and hobnob with the city council. Instead, she wound up with a man who bails out drunks and hookers at three in the morning. If there was one tiny bright spot in the horror of losing my sister, it was that I wouldn’t have to make Chelsey struggle anymore.”
“She was afraid you were going to divorce her,” Stride told him. “Take all the money and leave.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not true?”
“No.”
“You never talked to a lawyer about divorce?”
“Never.”
“Then why would she think you wanted to split up? Because that’s what she told a friend.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“She told one of your neighbors that the inheritance had changed you. She was concerned for her safety.”
“That’s a lie, Stride. I can’t believe you would make up a story like that.”
“I’m not lying. Chelsey said it, Gavin. We also heard that she may have been having an affair.”
His mouth was a thin flat line. “I wondered.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“No.”
“Did you confront her about it?”
“No. Honestly, I didn’t want to know whether it was true. And it’s not like I’ve been the best husband.”
“So you’ve had affairs, too?”
Gavin ran his hands through his curly hair in exasperation. “Yes. A few times, with clients. It was years ago, when I was depressed and angry about my life. But not since then. Have I been neglectful? Maybe. Working too hard, not paying enough attention to her? I guess. But that’s married life. The fact is, I was trying to change.”
“By taking Cialis? By trying to get Chelsey to try Ecstasy?”
Shock registered on his face. “Jesus. How did you hear about that?”
“That’s not important. Do you see why we’re concerned, Gavin? You inherited millions. You’ve got a gambling problem, and you’re involved with a criminal enterprise you won’t talk about. Your marriage is rocky; your wife is telling people she’s afraid of you. And in the midst of this, she gets kidnapped, and you don’t call the police until the kidnappers have vanished with one hundred thousand dollars and no sign of your wife. What part of that do I have wrong?”
Gavin slammed the mug down on the railing of the deck. Coffee spilled over his hand and onto the grass below.
“Watch your temper, Gavin,” Stride said quietly. “People might get the wrong idea.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say. You already have your mind made up, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. That’s the truth. But I do want a direct answer. Yes or no. Did you arrange to have your wife kidnapped and killed?”
Gavin sat back down and started to laugh. “Amazing. I see it with clients all the time. I know the shit that the police pull, but wow, you still don’t see it coming when it happens to you. How you people twist and manipulate the ordinary ups and downs of someone’s life to make them look guilty.”
“Inheriting millions of dollars and having your wife disappear a few months later is not ordinary, Gavin. Not ordinary at all. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“The answer is no. I didn’t do it.”
“Do you have any idea who did?”