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‘Why would he tell us that if it wasn’t true?’ Webb asks.
Larry glances at them all nervously. ‘The fact is, Paul thought I was having an affair with Amanda. He spoke to me about it. I denied it, because it wasn’t true. I thought he believed me. I can’t believe he spoke to Amanda about it.’
‘Why would he think you were having an affair with Amanda? Even after you denied it?’ Webb asks. ‘Any idea?’
Becky catches something sarcastic in the detective’s tone.
‘You have to understand what Amanda was like,’ Larry begins, sounding defensive. ‘She was very attractive. She sometimes worked at our office as a temp. She could be – inappropriate. She was in my office one day, and she was behaving improperly, and Paul saw it.’
‘You’re going to have to spell it out for us, Mr Harris,’ Webb says, and stares at Larry until he squirms.
Larry admits reluctantly, his face colouring with embarrassment, ‘She was performing oral sex.’
‘On you.’
‘Yes.’
Becky stares at her husband, speechless.
‘Paul saw it,’ Larry explains. ‘He drew the obvious – but entirely incorrect – conclusion. He confronted me and I told him I wasn’t seeing her. He didn’t believe me. I didn’t think he’d go so far as to warn her off. I mean, that’s just ridiculous. There was nothing going on – it was just that one time. That’s just what she was like.’
Becky wonders if her husband is telling the truth. She realizes that she has no idea. Suddenly she doesn’t feel so contrite, so ashamed. Maybe her husband had his hand in the cookie jar, too. She watches the two detectives, trying to get a read on what they’re thinking. She can’t tell.
‘Yes,’ Webb says, ‘Sharpe told us about that. In detail.’
Becky watches her husband’s face flush.
‘That’s all it was, I swear, that one incident. I wasn’t seeing Amanda. I knew her from her temping at the office and they live next door, but we didn’t have much to do with them. I think we had drinks with them once or twice.’ He adds, ‘I don’t know what happened to her.’
‘Where were you the weekend that Amanda disappeared?’ Webb asks.
‘You can’t be serious,’ Larry protests.
Webb just looks at him and waits.
Becky is staring in alarm at her husband. He glances at her. ‘I was away that weekend, and when I got back, I heard that she was gone and that her husband had reported her missing, but it was generally believed that she’d packed a bag and left him.’ He adds, ‘I was at a conference from Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon.’ He looks up at them. ‘I wasn’t even here.’
‘Where was the conference held?’ Webb asks.
‘At the Deerfields Resort.’
‘And where’s that, exactly?’
‘It’s a couple of hours from here. In the Catskills.’
‘You don’t say,’ Webb says.
Chapter Eighteen
OLIVIA CAN TELL that something is bothering her husband. He was restless the night before, tossing and turning through the night. When she asked him if something was wrong, he denied it. Perhaps he is simply worried, like she is, about Raleigh. Waiting for the cops to show up at their door.
She’s upstairs in her office the next morning when the doorbell rings. She freezes. She’s afraid that it’s that woman, Carmine, back again. She hurries to the front window in the upstairs bedroom and looks out, but she can’t see who is at the door. The doorbell rings again. She waits. The doorbell rings a third time. Whoever it is isn’t going away.
Finally she steels her nerves and goes downstairs. She’s determined to put a brave face on things and completely deny anything Carmine says. She’s angry enough that she thinks she can do it.
She opens the door and is completely surprised to see her friend Becky standing on her doorstep. She’d last seen Becky at book club, on Monday night. Now it’s Friday morning, and there’s something about Becky’s wary expression that puts Olivia on guard. And she looks like a mess. Her hair is neglected, and she’s not wearing her usual lipstick.
‘Becky,’ Olivia says. And then, ‘Is something wrong?’
Becky nods and says, ‘Can I come in?’
‘Of course,’ Olivia says. ‘Come have coffee with me.’
They make their way automatically to the kitchen. Olivia pours two cups of coffee from the jug. ‘What is it? Something’s obviously upset you.’
Becky sits down at the kitchen table. ‘This is really awkward,’ she says.
Olivia sets the coffee mugs on the table and sits down. She wonders if Carmine has been talking to Becky. She steels herself again. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s about the investigation, about Amanda.’
Olivia recalibrates. Not Raleigh, then. She feels a sense of relief, at least for herself, but she feels concerned for the woman sitting across from her. Why is Becky here?
‘The police came back to talk to me yesterday,’ Becky says.
‘Okay,’ Olivia says, taking a sip of coffee.
‘Oh, God, I don’t know how to tell you this.’
‘Just tell me, Becky.’ Olivia can feel her anxiety climbing.
Becky grips her coffee cup with both hands. She finally looks Olivia in the eye and says, ‘I saw Paul with Amanda, before she disappeared.’
Olivia is stunned. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t this. ‘What?’
‘I saw Paul with Amanda in her car one night, shortly before she disappeared. They – it looked like they were fighting.’
Olivia says, ‘Paul didn’t know Amanda.’
‘I know what I saw,’ Becky says carefully.
‘You must be mistaken,’ Olivia says coldly. He would have told her. Wouldn’t he?
Becky says woodenly, ‘I’m not mistaken. Paul’s admitted it. To the detectives.’
Olivia feels her insides turn. She’s suddenly light-headed. Paul has spoken to the detectives? ‘What do you mean?’ she asks. ‘When did he talk to them?’ She feels like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff, and all Becky has to do is give her a gentle push.
Becky shifts uneasily in her chair. ‘Yesterday. They went to his office. They talked to him there.’
‘How do you know that? Why would they go see him?’ She’s trying to make sense of what Becky is saying.
‘Because when they questioned me about Amanda I had to tell them that I’d seen Paul with Amanda in her car.’ She adds, ‘I didn’t want to tell them.’
‘He never said anything to me about the detectives,’ Olivia whispers, in shock.
‘I’m sorry,’ Becky says, and sits quietly, as if waiting for Olivia to put it together.
‘You think Paul might have been seeing Amanda?’ Olivia asks in disbelief, sitting perfectly still. ‘That’s impossible.’ But she thinks of Paul, tossing and turning all last night. Apparently he’d spoken to the detectives earlier that day. What else has he kept from her? She can feel herself starting to tremble. A darkness passes before her eyes, like a shade, and she grips the edge of the table. Was Paul cheating on her? She’s never suspected him of being unfaithful. Ever. But now another realization hits her: if Paul was having an affair with Amanda, he will be a suspect in her murder. She remembers him reading the article in the newspaper, his feigned lack of interest in the case. Her stomach churns.
