She thought about how she might reach out to the authorities in California. Let them know that Scott-slash-Michael was here. But she thought she knew what Aimee’s reaction might be. If her husband was arrested and her family torn apart, Aimee would blame Lisa. A classic case of shooting the messenger.
There had to be another way, a way to arouse suspicion and drive a wedge between them. The goal was to make Aimee feel so betrayed, so hurt, that she would never forgive Scott, that she would turn to her loyal friend Lisa for succor and support.
It wasn’t going to be pretty, Lisa thought, but it was for Aimee’s own good.
37
NOW
This Wednesday morning is running smoothly, a rarity for Aimee. The kids are up, fed, and she still has fifteen minutes before she has to hustle them out the door to the bus stop. She’s exhausted, her body on autopilot after another sleepless night. She lies in bed, replaying the conversation with Aunt Kay—her admonition to get a lawyer, how she had reacted when Aimee told her that Scott was being blackmailed. She wasn’t shocked. She wasn’t outraged. What had she said—He’s not in trouble again, is he?
She’s loading the dishwasher—because even when your husband goes missing, life marches brutally on—when her phone rings. Aimee lunges at it, desperate for news about Scott, but sees it’s only her dad calling, not the police.
“I was calling about those oak leaf hydrangeas. They’re root-pruned and ready to be picked up if you want to send one of the guys out tomorrow. Looks like good weather, a little cooler with a chance of some rain in the evening.”
“The weather sounds perfect. I’ll call Tim.”
“How are things?”
“Fine,” she says without hesitation. It’s a reflex of hers to keep any problems from her father. “Actually, things are not fine. Something terrible has happened, Dad.” She recounts what’s going on without going into too much detail, sticking to the fact that Scott is missing and that the police are involved. “And yesterday I found Scott’s car, but we haven’t found him yet.” Her voice hitches. “I’m so scared and worried. I’m not sleeping.”
“Oh, honey. That is a lot to deal with.” He clears his throat.“I’m sure the police will find him. They’re very good at this sort of thing. You’ll see. There’ll be a logical explanation.”
She waits for something else, some sign of emotional life in him. She feels as if they are on opposite sides of a great lake, shouting across a vast distance. She longs to be closer to him. She needs him now the way she needed him when her mother died. She wants him to reassure her the way only a father can.He’ll show up. He loves you so much.The silence is deafening.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” she says finally, just to keep the conversation moving.
“And how about the kids? How are they handling this?”
“They think he’s on a business trip. I don’t want to scare them until we know more.”
“Well, that sounds smart. Why don’t you all come up to the house this weekend? At least you won’t be alone,” he says. “Your brothers will be here, too. Deb’s making chili. You should be with family at a time like this.”
“Maybe,” Aimee says.
“Did I tell you your brother and I installed a zip line in the backyard? I bet the kids would love it.”
“I bet they would, Dad.” A heavy sadness settles on her shoulders. The doorbell rings. “I better go. There’s someone at the door.”
“Sure. Oh, Aimee, one more thing.”
“Yeah?” she asks, her voice rising on a hopeful note.
“I threw in a maple leaf viburnum. I know you didn’t ask for it, but it’s a beautiful specimen. A real four-season winner. If you can’t find a client that wants it, you should keep it.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Aimee hangs up and squeezes back the tears that are threatening to flood her eyes. She knows his love for her is in there somewhere. He’s just never been one to express it with words. But taking the time to select the perfect viburnum specimen andput it aside is his way of telling her he is thinking of her. Aimee just wishes he could say it out loud.
The doorbell rings again. “Coming,” she calls as she walks to the front door.
“Who is it?” Noa pops out of her bedroom and takes a perch on the stairs.
“I don’t know. You all set for school?” Noa nods and Aimee turns away from her daughter so she can wipe at her eyes. She doesn’t want Noa to see her upset. “Let’s find out.” She opens the door to see Detective Salazar standing there.
“Oh, hi. Good morning.”
“Didn’t Officer Nguyen mention I would be coming by?”