“The password you provided didn’t get us into your wife’s computer. We had to crack it on our own, and what we found was that accusation.”
“But the notebook, I logged in myself—bollocks. I am so confused.” Ethan set his head in his hands. His voice was soft. “We fought so badly when Dashiell died. We both accused the other of negligence, carelessness, of letting it happen. Accusations that would never have come up if Dashiell hadn’t... Trust me, Officer Graham. I didn’t kill our son, and neither did my wife. His death was a terrible, awful tragedy, and it tore us apart. But we loved him, more than we loved each other, maybe. Hurting him isn’t something either of us could do.”
“I believe you,” Graham said. “But it seems Sutton was sending a message. Could she be trying to get you in trouble, Mr. Montclair?”
A huge sigh, relief spreading through his body. “I can’t imagine why she would. She didn’t hate me that much. But Wilde? Wilde is responsible. Wilde is behind this. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I don’t think my marriage was so far gone that my wife would try to set me up.”
Graham nodded. “Obviously the idea of a third party makes this theory very compelling. A blackmail attempt colors the whole investigation.”
“I tried to buy him off. He set up a meet and didn’t show. He’s playing games.”
“You should have told me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“When was this?”
“Earlier tonight. He was just poking me, torturing me.”
“Where were you supposed to meet?”
“Right outside the city limits. He never came. Something’s happened to her. I know it. No one believes me.”
He sounded petulant now, and the cop eyed him like he was a weak, ridiculous child, whining because he couldn’t get a piece of candy in line at the grocery. She took a deep breath, blew it out her nose.
“Mr. Montclair, I believe you. And I have to say, I am starting to agree with you. Something has happened to your wife. We need to change focus, start actively searching for her. We’re currently tracing the calls to your house and cell. We’ll be very discreet, but we’re going to have to get someone in here to guide you in how to talk to Wilde if he calls or texts again. If he’s telling the truth, and he knows where Sutton is, she could very easily be in danger.”
The relief he felt was enormous. Relief, and a new fear. “I think that’s rather clear-cut already, don’t you?”
“I will admit something doesn’t add up. An email you claim you didn’t send, a password different from what you knew. A thwarted blackmail attempt. The woman in the video not being your wife. I’ll take it all to my boss and lay it out for him. And if Wilde calls again, you keep him on the phone as long as you possibly can.”
“Officer Graham? Is it possible for passwords to be changed remotely?”
Her brow wrinkled for a moment. “I’m not an IT expert, but I would assume if someone had managed to overtake a computer with a virus, then yes, that’s entirely within the bounds of reality.”
She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. Ethan wanted to weep. The touch was gentle, soft, opposite of everything he’d been getting for the past two days.
“We’ll figure it out, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
*
Holly believed him. Maybe she wasn’t a seasoned investigator yet, maybe she was being snookered. But damn if she didn’t believe him. Now she had to find a way to investigate Wilde without him knowing Ethan had shared the blackmail demand. It was definitely time for a seasoned detective to step in. She wasn’t about to blow this case, and there were suddenly more moving parts than she could handle alone. One thing she’d learned from her dad, don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Holly had just gotten into her car when the phone rang. She put it on speaker as she put on her safety belt.
“Officer Graham? It’s Ivy Brookes.”
“Hello, Ms. Brookes. What can I do for you?”
“Could you come by the house? I have some more information I need to share.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m close.”
“Yes, you are.”
The phone went dead. What was this about?
A CHANGE OF HEART
Holly was at Brookes’s door five minutes later. Ivy looked pale and drawn. She didn’t offer refreshments, just stood with her arms wrapped tightly around her body, clearly distressed.
“Come in.”
The door shut behind her with a bang. “What’s wrong, Ms. Brookes?”
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
“I’m all ears,” Holly said.
Brookes was pacing now, walking the short length of her apartment with staccato steps. “Ethan killed her. I’m sure of it.”
“Why? Why the change of heart? Last time we talked, you seemed to think Sutton was the one who’d orchestrated this week’s drama.”
“I was trying to protect Sutton. To protect them both. They’ve been through so much. At first, when he told me she was gone, I really thought Sutton was just playing with him, punishing him. But now, I’m truly starting to think he hurt her, and I can’t stay silent any longer.”
“Go on.”
“Look.” A lightweight silver laptop was on the counter. Brookes turned it around to show an email account. “I just received this. It came in a few days ago. For some reason, it got caught in my spam filter.”
“What is it?”
“An email from Sutton, dated Friday night. I was out of town on business. I had an away message on. I wasn’t checking email. I didn’t see this. If I had...”
The email was open. There was no greeting, just the stark words in black and white.
Really bad one tonight. He gets worse and worse. I think he’s going to kill me one of these days. If something happens to me, make sure they know who did it.
Holly felt a punch of adrenaline. Was everything Ethan Montclair had just told her a lie? Was he that good of an actor, that he could look her in the eye and create a story? He was a professional liar, after all, paid to create stories out of nothing. Was she that big of a dupe?
“Wow. Rather damning.”
Ivy nodded and closed the computer. “He was hitting her. It started soon after they moved into the house. That bloodstain on the counter? They say it was from blueberries but everyone knows the truth. He gave her a bloody nose. They were fighting over something stupid, and she mouthed off to him, and he punched her in the face. It wasn’t the first time. It definitely wasn’t the last.”
“Did you ever see him hurt her?”
“Not directly, no. But I’d see the aftermath. The bruises. You should look at her phone. There are photos. I used to make her take a picture after every incident. I wanted her to go to the police, to file charges against him. She never would. They kept it all a secret.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the abuse when I asked before?”
“Because if Sutton is alive, she will be furious with me for telling you. Like I said, it was a secret. I’m the only one who knew.”