Page 81 of You Know Why

“Who is that?”

“We believe this is your husband, Andrew Locke.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Blond curls. Blue eyes. Vodka shots by the lake. The scratchy wool of a picnic blanket. A gunshot. Blood.

Impossible.

Sheehan clears his throat. He’s had a cold recently; it makes a ripping noise. “We’ve run this through the FBI’s NGI facial-recognition system. It matches the man we saw leaving the Atlanta airport, and it matches the man who boarded the plane with you in Nashville. This is your husband.”

“But it’s not. I think I’d recognize my own husband. This man doesn’t even have a beard.”

“Then he shaved it.”

“Margot, is that Trey?”

My sister squints at the screen, blows out a breath. “Impossible to tell. But I don’t think so.”

“I agree. It’s not him. Besides, if he left me, why would he bother coming back? If he wanted me dead, why go to all these lengths instead of just murdering me in my sleep in our bed at home?”

Detective Lee sighs. “The doctor says your difficulty with facial recognition will clear up soon. Is that correct?”

That traitor. The cops are, too, pretending they didn’t know about my TBI. They’re trying to trap me. “He shouldn’t be discussing my medical situation with you.”

“All right.” Lee opens her phone. “Any chance you recognize this person?”

The black-and-white photo shows a man wearing an unlabeled ball cap and a white surgical mask.

“Is this some sort of Rorschach test? I can’t even see his face. How am I supposed to recognize him?”

She flips through a few more pictures, one with two men in an SUV. Something tickles my brain, but I’m not sure what it is that I’m even seeing. Ghosts.

“Sorry. No idea. Why?”

“He’s just someone we’d like to talk to.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Like I said, I’m pretty foggy about the day of the accident.”

Sheehan steps in. “Mrs. Locke, I know this is all very difficult to understand, and we’re adding quite a bit of stress to your situation. Let’s back up, and I’ll explain a little more about what we know and what we don’t. We’ve spoken with your aunt and uncle at length over the past few days. Your husband gave no notice that he was leaving the country. On the contrary, the morning you left, he sent a message to work that he was feeling ill and would call in later in the day. He—”

“He called in sick this morning.”

Who said that? I remember that.

“Wait wait wait. Give me a second here. The morning we left—” It takes me a minute to access the data. “Italy. We were going to Italy.”

“Correct.” Sheehan looks pleased.

“Because Bob sent Trey on this trip. There was a conference in Milan.”

“That is not true. There was no conference. Bob Gussin wasn’t aware of Andrew’s plan to leave the country. Everything we’ve discovered points in one direction—Mr. Locke was running. He’s been embezzling from the company for several years. Mr. Gussin discovered an anomaly in the books and came to the FBI seeking a forensic accountant. Their contracts are sensitive, and he didn’t want to alarm anyone without proof. Our team discovered a rather sophisticated skimming system. Mr. Locke managed to move upwards of $40 million out of the accounts over the past few years.”

I scoff. “I know I have a head injury, but that’s impossible. Trey would never do something like that. He loves Bob and Pat. They are his family.”

“They aren’t his family,” Lee says sharply. “His family is dead.”

The FBI agent lays a calming hand on the detective’s arm. “There’s more. Our accountants have traced about half of the funds. The rest has disappeared into the cryptocurrency system. Your husband has a crypto wallet somewhere. We need to find that. We have searched your house, his office, but he must have it on him. Unless he told you about it, and you have an idea where it might be? A safety-deposit box or some other place you keep things that are precious?”