Page 6 of The Liar

“Did he say anything about… you know?”

“No.” I pursed my lips. “Nothing.”

Somehow, the silence felt significant.

I sent back a message.

Joanna:I’ll bring sushi to the bar?

A reply arrived less than a minute later.

West:Sounds good.

Huh. So, whatever he’d been up to, he really was at work now.

We arrived at the police station, and I went inside tofinish up a few things, then walked to Henry’s, stopping by a sushi place on the way.

When I arrived with a chicken roll for him and an avocado roll for me, West was behind the bar, looking for all the world as if he’d been there for hours. I knew better though.

I sidled up to the end of the bar and waited for him to finish serving a couple of rookie cops. When they had their drinks, he sauntered over, leaned across the bar and kissed me. I turned my face at the last moment, so his lips landed on my cheek rather than my mouth. I just couldn’t kiss him when I didn’t yet know whether he’d been betraying me.

His eyebrows drew together, but then he smiled so quickly, I might have imagined it. He took the paper bag from me and slid out the chicken roll, knowing it was for him.

“How was your day?” I asked as he opened the container and doused his sushi with soy sauce. “Do anything interesting?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He smeared wasabi onto a piece of sushi and raised it to his lips. “How about you?”

“We got a new case,” I said. He didn’t ask for details. He knew that I wouldn’t share them here, where anyone could overhear.

“Open and shut?” He ate the sushi in two bites.

I tore open a soy sauce packet and spread it across my own sushi roll, even though I wasn’t really hungry anymore. “I doubt it. So, you spent today at home?”

He shrugged and nodded to a customer to indicate he’d be with them in a moment. “Home, the gym, and here.”

Liar.

I watched as he wiped his fingers on a napkin and took the customer’s drink order. Another pair of rookie cops formed aline behind them, keeping him busy for several minutes. I ate as much as I could stomach and tucked the rest of my meal inside the paper bag, so West wouldn’t notice I had no appetite.

The line for drinks only grew longer.

“I’m going to go home,” I called to West. “Want me to put your sushi in the fridge so you can finish it later?”

“Yes, thanks, Jo.”

I packed his meal into the small refrigerator in the back room and left through the rear exit so I wouldn’t have to see him again. I walked home, grateful for the extra time to work through everything that was going on inside my head. When I arrived at our apartment building, I took the stairs, delaying my arrival for as long as possible.

I neededto clear my mind, but I also didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. It was a bad combination.

I let myself in and locked the door behind me. Once inside, I went to the bathroom, stripped out of my clothes, and showered. I always felt the need to clean myself after attending the scene of a homicide. The stench of death clung to me otherwise.

I dried, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, and put on a load of laundry.

Then I paced.

How were you supposed to confirm whether your husband was cheating on you? Some people might recommend asking him to his face, but I didn’t want to confront him with any doubts if they were unfounded.

What would I do if this was one of my cases?

---