“Hello,” I said, and even though he could be calling about anything, my heart skipped a little.
“Sorry to bother you, but we have a question. Do you happen to know what your husband did on the day . . . on Friday, during the day?”
“Um. Far as I know, he was home all day. I saw him in the morning before my flight to Florida. He told me he had work to do, and that night he was planning on eating alone at home. He was going to make lamb. I texted him to remind him to take it out of the freezer.” I made my voice tremble a little.
“Uh-huh. Did your husband know anyone in Winslow, Mass.?”
I slowed the car down, looking for my mother’s town house.
“Winslow. I don’t think so. Why?”
“We found a Town of Winslow parking violation in his car. It was from 2:33 P.M. on the Friday that your husband passed away. We were just curious if you knew why he might have driven out there.”
I spotted my mother’s driveway, the Mercedes coupe in Diamond White, and pulled in next to it.
“I have no idea. Where’s Winslow again? That’s where the college is, right?”
“Yes. Did your husband have business contacts there?”
“He might have. I have no idea. Why? Do you think it has something to do with what happened?”
“No, no. We’re just following any lead. So as far as you know, your husband didn’t see anyone he knew during the day on Friday.”
“As far as I know, yes, but I wasn’t there . . .”
“Of course. Thank you very much, Mrs. Severson. If you think of anything else, or remember who your husband might have known in Winslow, please get in touch. You have my number?”
“You just called me. I have it.”
“Right, thank you.”
I sat in my car a while, even though I saw the dark figure of my mother peering out of her second-floor living room window. I was a little concerned that the police were finding it necessary to investigate where Ted had gone the day he was killed. I was banking on their simply assuming that Ted fought back against a burglar. I took a deep breath, wondered for a moment if my mother was still smoking, and if there were cigarettes in the house, then calmed myself down. Of course they wanted to know where Ted had gone that day. It was routine. But why had he gone to Winslow, and why hadn’t he told me about it? I hadn’t lied when I told the detective that, as far as I knew, Ted knew no one in Winslow. But the name of the town was ringing a bell with me, and I couldn’t remember exactly why. Someone I knew lived there now, or was I getting Winslow confused with Winchester. And why would Ted have gone to Winslow? Could he possibly have secrets, as well? Now I had another thing to worry about, along with worrying that Brad was going to come apart at the seams. Story of my life.
I stepped out into the cold Orono air. Dead leaves were scuttling across the driveway. I pulled my bag from the backseat of the Mini and made my way to the front door of my mother’s town house.
CHAPTER 18
LILY
On the drive from Winslow to Kennewick I kept thinking about what Miranda had done to Ted. He was an innocent. Even though he had been planning Miranda’s own demise, as well as Brad’s, I knew, down deep, he was not a natural murderer, not a true predator. And now I was realizing that he had been the prey all along. I wondered if he subconsciously sensed that Miranda was coming after him. Was that why he was willing to kill Miranda—because he felt her at his back, the way a mouse feels the presence of a cat, perched and still in the tall grass?
The day was cold and gray but I had the window cracked, and as I exited from I-95 onto the rotary just north of Portsmouth, I could smell the briny sea air. I didn’t know Maine well. Since living in Massachusetts I had visited Cape Cod several times, staying in Wellfleet at the house of a work colleague and friend, but had only gone north of my state line on a few occasions. I got onto Route 1 and passed through Kittery, land of the outlets, and spotted the Trading Post, where Ted had bought the binoculars he used to spy on Miranda. I could imagine him on this very road, just a few weeks ago; I could imagine how he must have felt, that terrible hollow feeling in your gut when you’ve been let down by someone you love.