“Is that on good authority, or only local buzz?” I don’t want to appear overeager, but I need to learn as much as I can.
“Pretty good authority. I heard it from a local reporter who’s a buddy of mine.”
“The cops must have some clues, though, right?”
“I don’t know. What he did say was that they’re interviewing guys she used to go out with. Apparently she had a pretty active social life.”
“Dating a lot of guys at once, you mean?”
“Well, dating would be the polite way to put it.”
My stomach twists. It’s exactly what I feared, that the killer might be a former lover of Eve’s. This, I suddenly realize, may be why the cops have an interest in Guy despite the fact that he has an alibi. If he slept with Eve, they’ll want to uncover what he knows about any other men in her life.
Derek takes another slug of wine. “What have you heard from your end?”
“My end?” Why does he assume I know anything?
“I thought the cops might have been in touch with you because she’d worked at your house.”
“No, I haven’t heard a thing. I doubt they like to share.”
He studies me quietly for a few moments. Does he sense how frayed my nerves are? Has he guessed I know more about the police investigation than I’m letting on? I try to think of a breezy comment to throw out, but my brain goes blank.
“Sorry to have gotten off on such a grim topic,” he says. “How are things going otherwise? Are you enjoying being here?”
“It’s had its ups and downs,” I admit, because I’m not up for telling yet another lie. “The murder’s weighed on me. Plus, I haven’t really had a chance to experience the town yet.”
“Well, we have to fix that. Why don’t you let me show you around the battlefield? Guy, too, if he can make it.”
“I’d like that. Perhaps in a few days, okay? I want to finish a proposal I’m working on.”
“Deal.”
Derek takes a final swig of his wine and rises from the table.
“I should let you get back to your evening. Let me know if you have any questions once you’ve read over the material.”
I see him to the front of the house. He smiles, says good-bye, and starts to turn. Then he looks back.
“Bryn, what you said about the murder weighing on you. You’ve had a lot to deal with this year. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”
“Thank you, Derek.” His comment touches me but also adds to the slight awkwardness I’m feeling. “I appreciate that.”
I shut the door behind him, slip the bolt into place, and stand for a moment in the large hallway. I hear the sound of Derek’s car starting up and receding down the street. My dread balloons again at the thought of being alone tonight in the house.
I make another sweep around the downstairs rooms, checking doors and windows. I leave every light blazing. To anyone driving by, the house probably looks like a cruise ship steaming across the ocean at night.
As expected, I can’t fall asleep to save my life. The house, which seemed so silent before Derek’s arrival, now begins to creak and groan. It’s shifting, I tell myself, but the sounds are like footsteps and doors being stealthily opened and closed. What if the murderer is watching the house, wondering where Guy is? What if he knows I’m all alone here?
When the noises aren’t torturing me, my thoughts do the job. I don’t know what to believe about Guy and Eve, or how I’ll ever figure out the truth. Even if I do learn the facts and discover that Guy’s biggest sins are a flirty text to Eve and consenting to a drink with her, I’m not sure how I’d respond. For some women that would hardly be grounds for divorce. Maybe he was simply hungry for a little female attention this spring because I’ve been as tantalizing as a rag doll.
What seems like hours later, I finally nod off and wake a little after seven, bleary-eyed. When I see the empty side of the bed, my first thought is that Guy is already up for the day, and then reality slams into me. My husband isn’t here. My marriage is in trouble.
Downstairs I make an espresso and chug it down. I half expect there to be a message from Guy on my phone, urging me once again to believe him. But there’s nothing, just a text from Derek, thanking me for the wine.
Despite how sleep-deprived I am, I feel a sudden urge to do something, to take control of my life. I stand for a few moments, cup in hand, waiting for my gut to tell me what it should be.