Page 41 of Crazy In Love (Secrets of Suburbi 3)

"Excuse me?"

"What personal business did you have there?"

He shook his head. "It was personal. And this isn't about me. This is about you. I'm doing the questioning here."

I pressed my lips together. The air in the room had shifted. He wasn't just a friendly neighborhood detective stopping by for a chat. He suspected me. He didn't have to say the words, I could see it in his eyes. But there was something else in his eyes too. Guilt maybe? What are you hiding, Detective Torres?

"Ensley, do you know where your husband is?"

Tied up right underneath your nose, detective. "No."

"Will you give me the missing records?"

I'd only given him the records because I couldn't trace that damn phone number. But now I knew about Sophia Tremblay. Even if the information didn't make any sense. "I told you. If they weren't in the box, I shredded them a long time ago."

He nodded. "Great. Well, I've requested access to his phone records and bills straight from the source."

Shit. How long will that take? I knew I was running out of time. I knew I was playing with fire. But I couldn't walk away now. I was so close. "That's fine, I have nothing to hide."

"So you don't mind if I take a look around your house?"

I had to hand it to him. That was a perfect freaking trap. "Of course not." I knew he'd eventually ask. I knew it and yet I was still hoping he wouldn't. That maybe, just maybe, chasing Sophia would get him off my back. After all, she had a motive. I thought it would be a classic jealous sidepiece motive, but this was even better. Noah had hurt her. She should have been Detective Torres’ top suspect. So why had he come back here sniffing around my house? Had Sophia really seemed that innocent?

I watched as Detective Torres stopped in the hall to look at a framed picture of Noah and me. Could he tell that my smile was fake? Could he really see all the lies that easily? I watched him walk down the hall and into the kitchen.

Snuffle Muffins looked up at me.

It's okay, boy. I'll handle this. I followed Detective Torres into the kitchen. My taser was burning a hole in my back pocket. I had spare rope and an extra chair downstairs just for this occasion. And my litter box was plenty big enough to share. Sorry not sorry, Detective Torres.

Chapter 15

Sunday

"The last time I saw my husband he was upstairs," I said. "We have this routine where I always straighten his tie before he heads to work." It was a final attempt at stalling him. Because I would tase him. I would. "And he was notoriously bad at matching a tie with his dress shirt. I'm pretty sure he was colorblind. He was always putting tan and gray together."

Detective Torres turned around.

I hadn't left my post in the hallway. I couldn't follow him into the kitchen knowing that there were two doors in there that led to terrible things. One to the garage, which was filled with evidence. And one to the basement, which was filled with Noah. I had to think of a reason, any reason, why Detective Torres should at least avoid the basement. But all I could think about was Noah being incompetent at matching colors. Oh God. I also had weed sitting in my utensil drawer. I'd tossed it in there to hide it, but what if he decided he needed a fork for something? Or a knife? "I've already looked everywhere for clues,” I said. “But maybe I missed something upstairs?"

"Great," Detective Torres said and walked back toward me. "I’ll start my search upstairs then. After you."

If I walked up the stairs ahead of him, he'd notice the taser bulging in my back pocket. "No, after you, good sir." I bowed awkwardly.

He walked past me without reacting.

I ignored Snuggle Muffins' whimpers as I went up the stairs without him. I followed Detective Torres as he made his way from the master bedroom, to the guest room, to an empty room at the end of the hall.

"What used to be in here?" he asked.

I leaned against the doorjamb. "It was going to be a nursery." The walls were still mint green. I'd thought it was so cute. More unique than blue. But the only thing that ended up being unique about the nursery was that it was empty. "I lost the baby."

He turned away from the emptiness. "I'm sorry."

I nodded. I wanted to be able to pretend that I wasn't sorry. That maybe my son would have turned out like his horrible father. But I couldn't pretend. Because what if he hadn't? My son would have been good. I would have raised him right. He would have saved me from all of this.

"Is there a reason why you don't want me in your kitchen?"

I had to hand it to Detective Torres. He kept me off-kilter. "I didn't make any snacks."

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