The two men share a quick look before Stone turns his head and says something unintelligible into the radio strapped to his shoulder.
Dowd’s attention is back on me. “But he was here today?”
“Yes. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Ma’am,” Officer Dowd says, “would you mind if we came in and waited for your husband?”
It would look deeply suspicious, but Icouldsay no. When I was first hired at BioNEX this was made very clear. Should a situation arise where a member of any police entity requests entry into our residence without a warrant, we should refuse and immediately call a secure BioNEX number. Given what I’ve done, contacting my employer is the last thing I should do.
But I don’t want them inside, either! My mind reels comically forward to the moment they come in and Mustache mysteriously finds the bloody dress I thought I’d thrown away. Suddenly there’s a whole hazmat team in my house, spraying luminol on every surface. They check my car and find even more. I’m led out in handcuffs while cameras flash. The judge bangs a gavel, the prison door slams. I eat unrecognizable slop on a tray for the rest of my life and read the same David Baldacci book over and over, it being the only thing I can find in the prison library.
“Ma’am?” Dowd prompts.
With a resigned sigh I step back and hold open the door for them, watching them walk in and take a look around. I try to see the house from their perspective; it’s tidy but there’s the expected detritus of people who have spent alotof time inside lately. A half-full water glass on the coffee table, a crumpled paper towel from when Luca ate sometoast and then fell asleep on the couch, one of my socks.Severalcoffee cups. A book splayed open over the arm of a chair. Dog toys scattered around the floor.
But there’s also the mess I hope they can’t see, and it takes monumental effort to not let my eyes drift down the hallway where tens of thousands of dollars of possibly stolen medical equipment is still set up in my bedroom.
“Is there anyone else in the home with you?” Stone asks, eyes searching every corner of the room.
“It’s just me here right now.” I feel dread sinking in my gut like a lead weight. “Sorry—am I in trouble or something?”
“Not at the moment,” Dowd says, admittedly not my favorite answer, and I watch as Stone leans in to examine our framed wedding photo on the mantel.
“This him?” he asks.
“Yes?” I stare at the back of his head, feeling irrationally irritated. The fact that it’s Luca should be obvious, no? Given that I’m standing next to him in a wedding dress? Who else would it be!
We all turn at the sound of the front door opening. Luca’s panicked gaze sweeps across the room, immediately softening in relief when it lands on me.
He moves straight to me, and my brain is on autopilot, my arms going around his waist in a way they haven’t done since before the accident. I hold him tight, my face pressed to his chest, closing my eyes as I can finally breathe. The wordsthank you thank you thank youon a loop in my head.
I feel him relax, his arms winding around me, too.
“Are you okay?” he asks into my hair, and I nod against him.
“When I saw the police car pull into the driveway, I panicked,” I tell him.
“I know,” he whispers. “I know. Me, too.”
Reluctantly, I pull away and look down at Honey, who is delighted that we have company. She’s wagging her tail so hard her entire butt sweeps from side to side. Luca lets her go say hi to the officers, and Stone seems to be unable to resist reaching down to scratch her chin.
I swallow a thick lump of anxiety. “These officers would like to talk to you,” I tell Luca.
He turns, keeping a protective arm around my waist. “Okay?”
Officer Dowd steps forward. “Are you Luca Martín?”
“I am. What’s going on?”
Officer Dowd opens a small spiral notebook. “Nine-one-one received a call earlier from a neighbor reporting a missing person and potential homicide.”
Luca looks down at me, his eyes glimmering with a sardonic smirk. We both know who called. “Let me guess,” he says. “I’m the victim?”
“That’s what the caller suspected,” Dowd confirms.
“And where did this happen?”
Dowd checks his notes. “She told the operator she saw it happen at the end of the street.”