didn’t know.
The next morning, I almost believed that I had dreamt the entire thing.
Chapter 14
D etective Reynolds shifted in Greg’s chair, waiting patiently for me to catch up.
My mind reeled, backpedaling, looking for an escape. “Four times?” I repeated.
The detective nodded slowly.
“Four times in the past year, Greg has lied about where he’s been.”
He added another nod, confirming my summary. Superfluous really. Receiving affirmation wouldn’t make my words feel real.
He cleared his throat. “Greg took eighteen trips last year. That’s actually quite a lot. We can confirm that fourteen of them are legitimate. We compared his itineraries with his manager’s training schedule. So the four trips that he lied about were February tenth, May twenty-second, July sixteenth, and then this one, September twenty-seventh.”
The trips were a blur to me, one long business trip—more accurately, the same trip repeated once, twice a month. I remembered only one, February tenth. We had a fight about it.
Really? Valentine’s Day? What kind of company commands travel on Valentine’s Day?
Claire, understand, Valentine’s Day isn’t actually a national holiday.
Well, then, your company should stop calling themselves the “Family Company” because they clearly don’t care about divorce rates.
You’re so dramatic. It’s one year, one time.
If he’d lied, he did it because he wanted to be somewhere else on Valentine’s Day. My hand over my mouth, I ran to the downstairs bathroom, retching my disbelief and hatred into the bowl. If only I could actually do that. I washed my hands and studied my reflection in the mirror. My complexion was pale and sallow, with bruised circles under my eyes from sleeplessness. I spotted wrinkles around my mouth and eyes that had not been there three months ago. I rinsed my face and my mouth and returned to the living room.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Detective Reynolds nodded once, looking down at his notepad. “So the first two trips, we believe he was in San Diego, where he claimed to be, but there were no scheduled trainings on those dates. But for the last two, we found nothing. No credit cards, no cell phone records, nothing. All we have is five hundred dollars taken from the ATM in Newark each time and then no traceable activity for his scheduled three to four days until he boarded the planes to return home.”
“Where were the mystery trainings scheduled?” I knew the answer before he said it.
“Rochester.”
The room seemed to expand then contract until I could see only his eyes—compassionate and pitying.
I’d put Hannah and Leah in bed for the night and felt no obligation to hide my emotions. I let Detective Reynolds back into Greg’s study for the third time in two months so he could look for “supporting evidence.” I had yet to set foot in that room. I asked that he please shut the door when he left and tell me if he took anything.
He returned with a leather-bound journal that I recognized as Greg’s. “Is this okay? I’ll make copies and bring it back.”
I nodded mutely.
Once he was gone, I stood with my head against the door, gazing at the floor. When I felt a soft knock a few minutes later, I thought Detective Reynolds had forgotten something, so I opened the door without hesitation.
Drew stood on the other side, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “You look awful, Claire. What’s happened?”
He dropped his bag and pulled me into an embrace.
“I can’t keep up with all the lies.” My voice was muffled against him and he kissed the top of my head. I cried into his chest, leaving wet circles on his white T-shirt. “I can’t even remember them all.”
“What’s the latest?”
I quickly recapped everything Detective Reynolds had said as I led him to the living room. We sat on opposite ends of the couch. Drew looked as baffled as I felt. “Here’s what I can’t figure out. Even if he was having an affair, where is he? I
The next morning, I almost believed that I had dreamt the entire thing.
Chapter 14
D etective Reynolds shifted in Greg’s chair, waiting patiently for me to catch up.
My mind reeled, backpedaling, looking for an escape. “Four times?” I repeated.
The detective nodded slowly.
“Four times in the past year, Greg has lied about where he’s been.”
He added another nod, confirming my summary. Superfluous really. Receiving affirmation wouldn’t make my words feel real.
He cleared his throat. “Greg took eighteen trips last year. That’s actually quite a lot. We can confirm that fourteen of them are legitimate. We compared his itineraries with his manager’s training schedule. So the four trips that he lied about were February tenth, May twenty-second, July sixteenth, and then this one, September twenty-seventh.”
The trips were a blur to me, one long business trip—more accurately, the same trip repeated once, twice a month. I remembered only one, February tenth. We had a fight about it.
Really? Valentine’s Day? What kind of company commands travel on Valentine’s Day?
Claire, understand, Valentine’s Day isn’t actually a national holiday.
Well, then, your company should stop calling themselves the “Family Company” because they clearly don’t care about divorce rates.
You’re so dramatic. It’s one year, one time.
If he’d lied, he did it because he wanted to be somewhere else on Valentine’s Day. My hand over my mouth, I ran to the downstairs bathroom, retching my disbelief and hatred into the bowl. If only I could actually do that. I washed my hands and studied my reflection in the mirror. My complexion was pale and sallow, with bruised circles under my eyes from sleeplessness. I spotted wrinkles around my mouth and eyes that had not been there three months ago. I rinsed my face and my mouth and returned to the living room.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Detective Reynolds nodded once, looking down at his notepad. “So the first two trips, we believe he was in San Diego, where he claimed to be, but there were no scheduled trainings on those dates. But for the last two, we found nothing. No credit cards, no cell phone records, nothing. All we have is five hundred dollars taken from the ATM in Newark each time and then no traceable activity for his scheduled three to four days until he boarded the planes to return home.”
“Where were the mystery trainings scheduled?” I knew the answer before he said it.
“Rochester.”
The room seemed to expand then contract until I could see only his eyes—compassionate and pitying.
I’d put Hannah and Leah in bed for the night and felt no obligation to hide my emotions. I let Detective Reynolds back into Greg’s study for the third time in two months so he could look for “supporting evidence.” I had yet to set foot in that room. I asked that he please shut the door when he left and tell me if he took anything.
He returned with a leather-bound journal that I recognized as Greg’s. “Is this okay? I’ll make copies and bring it back.”
I nodded mutely.
Once he was gone, I stood with my head against the door, gazing at the floor. When I felt a soft knock a few minutes later, I thought Detective Reynolds had forgotten something, so I opened the door without hesitation.
Drew stood on the other side, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “You look awful, Claire. What’s happened?”
He dropped his bag and pulled me into an embrace.
“I can’t keep up with all the lies.” My voice was muffled against him and he kissed the top of my head. I cried into his chest, leaving wet circles on his white T-shirt. “I can’t even remember them all.”
“What’s the latest?”
I quickly recapped everything Detective Reynolds had said as I led him to the living room. We sat on opposite ends of the couch. Drew looked as baffled as I felt. “Here’s what I can’t figure out. Even if he was having an affair, where is he? I
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