Page 22 of Trust No One

I remembered how Maria could rail on Gabe if he missed a practice or blew off a test. He always fired back angry words. Sometimes, I thought they’d rather fight than eat.

“Was Gabe seeing anyone else?”

She bristled. “My son is a good man. He wouldn’t do that to Maria. If I had to bet, I’d say she was the one cheating.”

“Why?”

“She’s selfish. I love her, but she’s always got one eye toward what’s best for her. I mean, she has a day off from work, and instead of spending it with Molly, she enters a race.”

I didn’t bite at the distraction. “Affairs can be a way of dealing with stress.”

“How does any of this have to do with what’s happening now?”

“Gabe is in the wind, Mrs. Durant. No one can find him.”

“You know how he can be.”

“It doesn’t look good for him.”

Her frown deepened. “You’re talking like he’s a suspect. But there’s been no crime.”

The preliminary tox screens would be back today. “Let’s hope.”

“Are you saying there was a crime?”

“I haven’t said that.”

“You’re hinting Gabe caused Maria’s heart attack.” She shook her head. “You two were friends in high school. You know him.”

Police work had taught me that no one really knew anyone. Dial up the right combination and anyone could do anything. “That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to help him. I need him to answer my questions.”

She shook her head. “You doubt him.”

“That’s my job.”

She lowered her voice. “He hasn’t gone far. He’s just found a quiet place and is processing. He’ll show up.”

“Now’s the time to help his wife and daughter. Not nurse stressors.”

“He’ll show up.”

I asked, “How bad has it really been for him lately?”

“Eighteen months of jail time changed him. Since then, he’s easily stressed.”

Gabe had been in a bar, a few beers in. Another guy had picked a fight. Gabe reacted and beat the guy unconscious. He’d left the other man disabled. The judge ruled Gabe’s reaction excessive and condemned him to four years. The sentence had been reduced to eighteen months when Raine had called her family attorney to intervene.

“He’s on medication for anxiety,” I said.

“Did he tell you that?” She didn’t look surprised.

“I saw the pills in his bedroom. The bottle has five refills left.”

“What were you doing in his bedroom?”

“The forensic tech and I are collecting evidence.”

“Evidence for what?” This time her voice did spike before she caught herself. “Maria had a heart attack.”