Page 75 of The Wife

“He.” Corrine remembered Kerry correcting her when she was here before.

“Technically, but Snowball transcends labels. Kerry’s brother wouldn’t take the poor thing. And Samantha said she’s allergic, even though I told her bichons are hypoallergenic.”

“We’re on day three. Don’t you think it’s about time you started processing this as a crime scene?”

“Well, seventy-two hours is our general rule of thumb, but there’s been a development. When I went through her phone looking for our mystery man, Jay? I found phone calls to realtors. Apparently she was looking to list her house, and fast. She said she wanted it priced to sell.”

“That could mean anything.”

“Maybe she took off for a couple of days to go wherever she was planning to move. She did leave Snowball’s automated food and water bowls totally filled.”

“Without her purse and her phone?”

Netter shrugged. “I know. But those real estate calls have to be related. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Just so you know, she told me herself she was kind of a crappy dog owner, leaving Snowball alone all the time. That’s probably why she had those feeders. If I had to guess, she probably kept them full all the time. Do you mind if I take a look around?”

He obviously had no idea what was permitted under the current circumstances.

“I want to look in the living room. It’s the only part of the house I saw when I was here before.” She made her way to the threshold of the kitchen entrance and stood there for a full five minutes, scanning the entire room in small sections. She noticed only one thing out of place, but it was important. Once she told Netter, it would change the way he was looking at the case.

She asked him what the plan was for interviewing the person who had delivered food to Kerry the last night she was seen.

Netter looked at his watch. “Perfect timing. We’re supposed to meet him at the restaurant in ten.”

She climbed into her car, pulled a U, and followed Netter.

Based on what she’d gleaned about the delivery boy, Corrine was expecting someone around twenty years old—surfer by day, Italian food delivery guy by night. Instead, they pulled in front of the restaurant called Grapevine to find a guy older than either of them, probably fifty, a surfboard still strapped to the top of his Toyota Prius.

He introduced himself as Nick Lowe. “No, not the musician, if you’ve even heard of him. It’s Dominick, legally. My parents called me Nick, and I figured, Yeah, let’s go with that.” She noticed the air freshener hanging from Nick’s rearview mirror.

She let Netter take the lead. It didn’t take long for Nick to confirm what they already knew: he had delivered a takeout order to Kerry’s house on Wednesday night. If the receipt said the order left at six thirty, he estimated he arrived around six forty-five. Maybe seven, seven fifteen. “There’s a lot of orders, plus suburban sprawl. Carbon footprints are large around here.”

“Do you remember anything about her demeanor?” Netter asked.

“I don’t know. She took the bag of food, handed me a five for a tip, and that was basically it. She’s a good person, you guys. She, like, works all the time and eats at home. She’s kind of sad. Why are you asking about her?”

Corrine realized why it had taken this long to get a statement from Nick. Netter had never explained that they were asking because they were concerned about Kerry. Nick obviously thought she was a suspect.

Netter struck her as a decent guy, but she was done letting him call the shots. “You deliver to her house regularly?” Corrine asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Every couple of weeks or so, I’d say.”

“Nick, to our knowledge, you were the last person to see Miss Lynch,” she said. “We can’t find her and are concerned about her safety.”

His brow furrowed.

“What else did you notice that night?” she asked.

“Well, her boyfriend was there.” His tone was more serious now, focused. “That was different.”

Fuck. They could have found this out two days earlier. She pulled out her phone and searched for a photograph of Jason Powell. “This guy?”

“No, not him.”

Something about the way he said it. “But you’ve seen him before?”

“Yeah. I think so. I mean, wait, isn’t he on the news?”

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