“No, not missing,” Salazar says. “She went on a trip, and we don’t know where. And we need to tell her something.”
“Something about the kittens?”
He smiles. “Exactly.”
“What do you need to tell her?”
“Well, see, someone wants to adopt one,” he says. “A really nice lady, but she needs to know right away. So we’re trying to find where Cathy might have gone to on her trip. So we can ask her.”
“Because when Cathy comes back, it might be too late?” Noa asks.
“That’s right.”
Noa puts a finger on her chin and says, “Hmmm,” the way a cartoon character might. Aimee feels a pang of guilt. All this lyingdoesn’t sit well with her. She knows it’s in Noa’s best interest, but she’s sick of lies.
“Maybe she went to Texas?” Noa suggests.
“Why would she go to Texas?” Salazar asks, his hawkish face eager.
“I don’t know.” Noa shrugs. “Did you know that Texas is the second largest state in the country? Alaska is two-and-a-half times bigger.”
The detective’s shoulders slump, disappointed. “That’s pretty cool. All right, Noa. You’ve been a big help.”
Noa straightens up, beaming.
“You go on up, honey,” Aimee says. “And tell your brothers they have two minutes to get downstairs. We’re not missing that bus.”
Noa nods and scurries up the stairs.
Aimee turns to the detective. “I’m sorry she wasn’t of more help. I was hoping she knew something.”
“Maybe something will come to her later,” he says. “Mrs. Crowder—”
“Stern. I kept my last name.”
“Ms. Stern, if you have any idea of where your husband has fled to, now would be a good time to tell me. You may think you are protecting him, but the longer this goes on, the more dangerous it becomes for everybody.”
At first, she thinks she must have misunderstood him, but the cold look in his eyes tells her otherwise. “You think I’m part of this? I’m the one who called you yesterday morning, remember?”
“We know your husband was being blackmailed by Anton Khoury—”
“Yeah, you know because I told you.”
“And we found corroborating evidence on his laptop. And we know that Mr. Khoury came here Friday night to talk to your husband, and they walked down your walkway together.”
“Scott explained that. Anton was drunk. He was taking him home.”
“And your husband admits to being at the scene where Mr. Khoury was killed. And then a few days later, he’s on the run.”
“He’s not on the run! Something’s happened to him. Cathy Stocker has done something to him.” Her voice is strident but it belies the doubt that has crept into her thoughts. What if Scott is involved with Anton’s death? Being blackmailed is a motive, after all. She won’t believe the worst about Scott. Not until she has proof. Until then she will hold on to the shred of hope that her husband is innocent. She yanks open the front door, indicating it’s time for him to leave. “Maybe you should go do your job and find them.”
“Maybe she has done something to him.” Salazar pushes open the screen door. “Or maybe she’s helping him.”
38
NOW
Gwen stumbles into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Her head feels as if it’s been stuffed with cotton, a logy feeling she gets when she takes a Xanax with her nightly glass of wine. The combo helps her sleep, but the next day is brutal. A strong cup of coffee will slice through the fog.