Page 9 of Estranged Heart
“Oh, I’m sure he did,” he says mockingly.
Fuck this guy. “Look. I didn’t know anything about the bomb on the boat. It wasn’t until we got to the lake that I found out about my husband’s plans for us. He wanted it to be a surprise. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then that means my husband might have been murdered.”
“And you’d happen to know firsthand, wouldn’t you?” He spins around some more, tilting his face.
Quickly jumping to my feet, I lean over the desk, digging my nails into the wood. “If you’re not going to help me then I’ll find someone who will. If I’d killed my husband, I wouldn’t have assembled three search parties or been in here every other day asking where the fuck he is.”
“What’s going on here?” a man from behind me asks. He doesn’t look anything like the cop I’ve been dealing with for the last hour. He’s older, with silver sprinkled in his dark beard and hair, and dressed in a suit instead of a regular cop uniform.
“I’m trying to find out what happened to my husband, and instead of doing his job properly, this jackass wants to waste time accusing the wrong person.”
“Ah, you must be Mr. Pena.”
“Yes.”
He glares at the other man who’s shrugging his shoulders like the smug shit he is.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come in. I wish someone had told me you were here,” he says between clenched teeth. “Please follow me. Let’s talk in my office.”
I do as he says, not giving the other man the satisfaction of glancing back at him. We reach his office and he closes the door behind us.
“Have a seat, Mr. Pena. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Do any of them include whether or not I killed my husband because if they do, then—”
He holds his hand up, adjusting the bottom of his jacket as he lowers himself in his chair. “No. None of that. I only want to get the truth of what happened that night. I know you’ve told us everything you thought of at the time, but maybe there are some things you’ve missed.”
“Such as?”
He gestures his head toward the other chairs. “This will be a lot easier if you sit down.”
Huffing a breath, I take my seat, not getting too comfortable. “There. I’m seated.”
“Since circumstances have changed based on evidence, so have the questions.”
“Okay, please do go on.” I rest my chin on a closed fist.
“Your husband . . . did he seem off to you at all that night?”
“No. Not at all. He was the happiest I’d seen him in a while. We were celebrating.”
“That’s what you said last time. I’m trying to figure out why he’d rent a boat from a man who conveniently disappeared after the accident.”
“I don’t understand either. He said he got the guy’s name from someone at work.”
His eyes widen with interest. “Who? Did he give you a name?”
Pausing for a moment, I think long and hard, not remembering him ever saying who the person was. “No. He just said a customer. Sounded like a regular, maybe.”
He scribbles down notes in a small notepad. “Anything else you can think of?”
“No. I wish I knew more. If we had his phone, we might—”
“We do, actually. Did Officer Robinson not tell you?”
I look toward the door and back at him. “No. He did not.” Asshole.
“Well, we do. It’s in evidence, but we haven’t looked through it yet. I wanted to speak to you first.”
