“Nobody I can think of off the top of my head,” she said. “But I’m not thinking clearly, so maybe a name will come to me. Let’s get the post up.”
Harvey took a slice of the lemon tart before taking his phone to another room, while Lucinda busied herself with her own phone. It pained Michael to see his mother-in-law’s hands continue to shake so uncontrollably, and was reminded of how he’d been when he first realized his family was gone.
He imagined what Natalie might be saying about him to the children, tried not to go there, but he couldn’t help it.
Dad doesn’t want to see you anymore.
It’s better for all of us this way.
Your father has done some terrible things.
That last one wouldn’t have been a lie.
As if reading Michael’s thoughts, Lucinda said, “The children must be so confused and frightened. It’s just not like Natalie to do something like this.”
“Of course it’s not,” said Harvey, his booming voice carrying as he stormed back into the room. “What I want to know, Michael, is what really happened. Did you hit her?”
Michael’s eyes flew open wide.
“Harvey, God, no! I’d never.”
Harvey had seen his fair share of charlatans and liars through his legal practice. Michael’s strong denial didn’t appear to appease him.
“Let’s work on the post, okay?” Michael said. A focused task might keep the accusations to a minimum, and hopefully would help him hold his anger in check.
We both know what happens when you lose control of your temper, Michael, said the devil.
Lucinda, who kept her attention on her phone, perked up when she found a family photo to use. It was of the four of them taken last summer on a whale watch boat out of Gloucester. The sun was at its magic hour, giving everyone that radiant, healthy glow.
“This is a beautiful picture,” Lucinda said. “I always hate the ones people choose for these things—bad news, deaths, missing persons. They always look so sickly and sad in their photos. This is just the opposite. Everyone will want to share this.”
Michael took one look at the photo that might soon travel the virtual globe, and fear gripped his chest.
“No,” he said adamantly. “Let’s use this one instead.”
Out came his phone. On the display was the same picture he had passed around in New York, the one of just Natalie and the kids taken by the entrance to the hotel.
“That image is too dark,” Lucinda said, offering a dismissive wave of her hand. “The one on the boat is perfect. I’ll get my laptop and we’ll do the post from my Facebook account. I’ll ask the garden club, my book group, and the church to share it. That will get it started.”
“No,” Michael said, putting too much force into his voice, but he couldn’t help himself. “We can’t use that picture.”
Harvey took notice of Michael’s modest outburst. A dark cloud seemed to pass over his eyes as he stormed across the room. He took Lucinda’s phone so he could study the image himself before sending Michael a scathing stare.
“This photo is perfect. Use it,” he demanded.
A stare down ensued, sort of a high-noon moment between Harvey and Michael. They’d never raised their voices to each other, but this was unchartered territory.
“Harvey, no,” repeated Michael. “We need to be a team here, and this isn’t the right image. The focus has to be on Natalie and the kids. That’s it. Just of them. And in my photo, they’re wearing the same clothes they had on when they disappeared, so it might help with identification.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point, I guess,” Harvey said with a grumble. “Luce, let’s use the photo Michael suggested instead.”
Michael breathed a silent sigh of relief. He couldn’t be in any picture that risked going viral, and certainly couldn’t tell his in-laws why.
CHAPTER 18
NATALIE
BEFORE SHE DISAPPEARED
Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway when Natalie arrived home just before eight. She made her way up the walkway with a slight spring in her step, thinking the only good to have come from having seen her husband at McDonald’s with Audrey Adler was that she was no longer exhausted. In fact, she couldn’t recall a time when she’d felt more awake. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She wished she could experience this energy at will, though without the heartache of her hurtful discovery.
Seeing the Audi (or believing she saw it—damn brain, damn insomnia) all but confirmed Natalie’s worst fears. How men believed they could openly carry on an affair and get away with it was mind-boggling. Did Michael honestly think she was stupid, or that she paid no attention to the little details of their lives? She’d learned from experience that routines were quite adept at carving grooves into everyday life, laying down tracks for the day’s events to follow. Anything that jumps the rails, so to speak, was going to get noticed.
Like those shirts Michael bought a little while ago—one a dress shirt, the other a jersey, both black. Natalie’s first thought when Michael showed her his purchases (of which he was quite proud) was that he didn’t wear black. In fact, Michael had exactly zero black shirts in his entire wardrobe, and suddenly he owned two of them, both from different stores.
When Natalie asked about his newfound preference for black, Michael offered only a shrug of his shoulders and a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Haven’t you been reading the news lately?” he asked, with a devilish grin. “We should all be mourning the state of things.” He gave a chuckle, like he’d actually said something quite funny, which Natalie didn’t even acknowledge with a smile. She was having her own private conversation at that moment, one that had nothing to do with politics. Instead, she was revisiting all the signs she’d shared with Tina. The cheater’s playbook, she’d called it.
Mr. Too Lazy to Get Out of Bed suddenly becomes Mr. Hard-Core Gym Rat—pretty much overnight. Weight loss suddenly becomes a real priority, as if he’s just discovered that under the fat he has abs. Next he tries a new cologne after all these years, as if that was for the benefit of his wife. And now these stylish black shirts.
Fuck him.
One evening when everyone was asleep (and of course she was not), Natalie picked up Michael’s phone. She was surprised when she was required to use FaceID to unlock the device. For security, Michael always used a code, 0702, representing the months of their children’s birthdays. She knew his code because on occasion he’d ask her to check a text message or something when he was otherwise occupied. Natalie couldn’t remember the last time she’d checked his phone, and he’d certainly never told her that he’d gone all James Bond with the biometric security stuff.
When she pressed him on it, once again Michael had an answer at the ready, so his explanation sounded quite obvious and logical. And maybe it was.