The Guilty Husband

by Stephanie DeCarolis

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘The intern. Who was it?’

  ‘Her name was Layla. She was new. I don’t think you ever met her.’

  ‘Such a shame.’ Nicole shakes her head sadly. ‘Do the police know what happened to her?’

  I shake my head. ‘All I know is that she was found in Central Park early this morning. They came by the office looking for anyone who knew her.’

  ‘Did you know her? Layla?’

  Now is the time to tell her the truth. ‘No, not really,’ I lie. ‘I’m sure we crossed paths a few times, but like I said, she was relatively new at the company, so I didn’t really have the chance to get to know her too well.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s terrible what the city is coming to. Can’t even take a walk through the park without having to worry these days.’

  I nod in agreement.

  We eat the rest of our meal in relative silence, making small talk about the weather, her class schedule, the new video game branch we’re planning to launch at KitzTech, but the darkness of Layla’s death has already settled between us and Nicole doesn’t know that it’s only going to get worse from here.

  I help Nicole clear the table, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and packing the leftovers into the refrigerator.

  ‘I have to make a few calls,’ I tell her. ‘And then maybe we can have a drink by the pool?’

  ‘Sure, sounds great.’

  I head to my home office and wait until I hear Nicole open the sliding doors to the yard and close them behind her. I sit down in the plush leather chair behind my polished mahogany desk. Unlike my office at KitzTech, my home office is far more traditional. Large built-in bookshelves wrap the walls in warm wood tones, and a bar cart stands at the ready with a crystal decanter of amber whiskey which beckons to me now. I resist the temptation to pour myself a glass, even though I know that the phone call I’m about to make will not be an easy one.

  I fish my phone out of my pocket and call my best friend, Jeff. Who also happens to be an attorney.

  ‘Hey! Vince! Been a while, buddy!’ Jeff exclaims.

  ‘Sure has,’ I reply, unable to match his enthusiasm.

  ‘Uh oh, sounds like this isn’t a social call then?’

  ‘No, unfortunately it’s not.’ I take a deep breath. I don’t know if I’m making the right choice, letting the truth out into the open, but I need advice and I know I can trust Jeff. ‘One of the interns from my company was killed last night.’

  ‘Oh, man! That’s awful.’

  ‘But here’s the thing. I was sleeping with her.’ There. I said it.

  Jeff is silent for a moment. I look down at my phone to see if the call is still connected. ‘Are you kidding me, Vince?’ he says. He can’t keep the judgment out of his voice. Or maybe he isn’t trying to. Jeff and I have been friends since we were kids. He’s never been one to mince words with me. ‘You’re married to Nicole. That woman is a goddess. What the hell were you doing getting some on the side?’

  ‘I’m an idiot, okay?’ I concede. ‘But that’s not the point. I was sleeping with her, and now she’s dead.’

  ‘Are you telling me you had something to do with it?’ Jeff begins, ‘Because if you are—’

  ‘No! Jesus, Jeff! How long have we known each other? Do you really think I’d … kill someone?’

  ‘No, you’re right. Of course not. I’m sorry,’ Jeff says, backing down. ‘I just didn’t see this coming. I always thought you and Nicole were the perfect couple.’

  ‘We are. Were. It’s complicated. I’ll explain all of that another time. But right now I need your help.’

  I fill Jeff in on my meeting with Detective Barnes this morning.

  ‘So you didn’t tell them about your involvement with Layla then?’ he asks as I conclude my story.

  ‘No. I didn’t know what to do. No one knows about the affair and I thought if I mentioned it, I’d only make myself look guilty.’

  ‘That’s true, but if the police find out on their own, it’s only going to look worse for you.’

  ‘What the hell am I supposed to do?’ I groan.

  ‘Well, let me ask you this: how careful were you and Layla about covering your tracks?’

  ‘We were very careful. She knew that this couldn’t get out. She knew I was never going to leave Nicole, and that it would be some serious bad press for KitzTech. It was supposed to be a no-strings-attached thing. We only communicated through an app that sends messages over the Internet and they are automatically erased after they’re read.’

  ‘And you’re sure that there’s no record of those messages anywhere?’ Jeff inquires skeptically.

  ‘Positive. I developed that app myself.’ That much I feel confident about.

  ‘Well that’s on your side, but these things have a way of getting out. You said this girl was only twenty-three. She was probably gossiping to all her girlfriends about banging her boss. As your lawyer, let me sleep on this, figure out if we should bring the affair to the police’s attention or not. But as your friend, I’d advise you to tell Nicole. If this gets out, and she has to hear about it from anyone but you, I’m sure it won’t go over well.’

  ‘God, I’m such a fucking idiot,’ I reply, dropping my head into my hands.

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Jeff agrees. ‘Call me immediately if anything else happens.’

  ‘Thanks, I will.’

  I end the call and stare down at my phone for a moment. I know it’s time. It’s time to tell Nicole the truth. Well, most of it anyway.

  Chapter 4

  Vince

  DAY 1

  I walk out into the yard, running my hands through my hair. I have to stop doing that. Maybe that’s why my hair is thinning. I can’t lose Nicole. I just can’t. What happened with Layla was stupid, reckless. It was just sex. A fleeting, visceral entanglement. But what I have with Nicole is real, and it was supposed to last forever. We may have hit a rough patch in our marriage, but I don’t want this to be the end of the line for us. Jeff is right though. I have to tell her. I owe her the truth, and if she hears it from anyone but me, I know I’ll lose her for good.

  It’s growing dark outside, the sky an inky midnight blue, but our yard looks like an oasis in the darkness. Underwater lights illuminate the pool in a celestial blue, and the lush garden surrounding it is dotted with soft fairy lights strung along the trees. Between two lounge chairs on the deck Nicole has placed a silver ice bucket with a bottle of white wine sticking out of the top, the cork already pulled. Condensation from the chilled wine is beading on the neck of the bottle and slowly sliding down into the ice below. Two crystal glasses stand on either side of the bucket waiting to be filled. I pour each of us a generous portion of the wine and take a small sip from the brim of my glass. I feel the of bite of the Chardonnay on my tongue.

  ‘Wine?’ I ask Nicole gently. She’s sitting on the edge of the pool in a pink silk robe, her feet dangling into the water, swishing back and forth methodically.

  Nicole shakes her head sadly but takes the glass from my hand. She doesn’t have to tell me what this means. She’s not pregnant. The latest round of IVF has failed.

  ‘I’m so sorry, honey. But we’ll keep trying. There’s always next time,’ I say reassuringly.

  ‘Is there though? What will make the next round any different than the last one? Or the one before that, or the one before that?’ Her words sound defensive but her voice sounds broken, defeated. ‘I’ll be turning thirty-two next month. I don’t know how many more shots at this I’m going to get.’

  ‘As many as it takes,’ I tell her with certainty. ‘You still have plenty of time. And I know how badly you want this. I do too. You’re going to be an amazing mother some day. I know it.’

  ‘Well, today is not that day, so we might as well make the most of it.’ She takes a large gulp of her wine and places the glass on the edge of the pool. Nicole hasn’t had more than a sip of alcohol in years to increase her chances of getting pregnant. But it seems like s
he needs this tonight. She slips off the silk robe and I see her naked silhouette set against the glow of the pool in front of her. She dives into the water hovering below the surface for a moment. When she resurfaces, her pale breasts just beneath the water’s edge, she looks up at me with her impossibly blue eyes and says, ‘Are you going to join me?’

  I strip down slowly with Nicole watching me from the water, and slide into the pool beside her. Nicole wraps her legs around my waist and kisses my lips, slowly and passionately. Her kiss has the same bite as the wine.

  There is no way I can tell her now.

  Chapter 5

  Vince

  BEFORE

  I hear a light rap on my open door which causes me to look up from my desk. I find myself staring at an unfamiliar, and strikingly beautiful, face surrounded by luxuriant, chocolate brown hair that falls in soft waves down her back.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Mr Taylor. I can come back another time if you’re busy,’ the woman says in a smooth, yet delicate, voice. She is standing in my doorway wearing a form-fitting black dress that accentuates her hourglass figure and the perfect roundness of her breasts which curve over the top of its V-shaped neckline.

  ‘No, please come in,’ I say, gesturing for her to take a seat in my office. ‘What can I help you with?’

  The woman strides into my office, the scent of her sugar-sweet perfume trailing behind her, and sits herself in a chair across from my desk. She crosses one long, tanned leg over her thigh and I can’t help but notice her black leather heels and pink polished toes.

  ‘My name is Layla Bosch, I’m one of the new interns. I just started last week,’ she says extending a perfectly manicured hand to me. ‘I just wanted to introduce myself, Mr Taylor.’

  ‘Please, call me Vince.’ I give her my hand and silently chide myself for taking note of the gentle curves of her body. ‘I’m glad you stopped by. It shows initiative. How are you finding KitzTech so far?’

  ‘Oh, it’s great. Everyone has been wonderful. I really think I’m going to love it here.’

  ‘I’m so glad to hear that. What department are you in?’

  ‘I’m working with the development team. Jason was assigned as my supervisor, and he’s just brilliant. I feel like I’ve already learned so much.’

  Her deep brown eyes sparkle and they seem to dance as she speaks.

  ‘That’s great,’ I reply. ‘Jason is fantastic. We have a lot of new projects coming up and I’m sure he’ll be keeping you guys busy.’

  ‘Good, I’m looking forward to it. Anyway, as I said, I just stopped by to introduce myself. I won’t take up any more of your time. But I hope to see you again soon.’ Layla gracefully rises from her chair.

  ‘Thanks again for dropping in,’ I tell her. ‘And I’m sure we will be seeing more of each other.’ At least I certainly hope so.

  I try to shake off thoughts of Layla as I turn back to my work. She’s stunning, and my attraction to this this woman, who is so much Nicole’s opposite, takes me by surprise. I look over at the framed photo of Nicole that I keep on my desk, her icy blue eyes staring back into mine. Perhaps it’s because Layla represents something foreign, the allure of the unknown calling to the part of me that sometimes yearns to break free from the routine that has become my life. Yes, that’s all it is. This isn’t attraction, it’s wanderlust, the same pull that drives us to escape to the tropics when snow blankets our known landscapes. But, sooner or later, we all find ourselves longing for the comforts of home. I glance over at the photo of Nicole one last time. At her white-blonde hair, and her familiar smile. She is my home. I can’t forget that.

  Chapter 6

  Allison

  DAY 1

  If the door to Layla Bosch’s apartment is any indication of what we’re going to find inside, I’m not sure I want to go in. The rusted, dented metal door has the number ‘12’ carved into the chipping, vomit-green paint.

  ‘This place is a dive,’ Lanner says, matching my thoughts.

  ‘Let’s get this over with,’ I tell him, unlocking the door with the key provided by Layla’s surly landlord. You would think we’d asked her for the key to Fort Knox the way she reacted when I requested entry into Layla’s apartment. I push the door open and step inside.

  The inside of Layla’s studio apartment is sparse. It hardly looks like anyone lived here, never mind a 23-year-old woman. The furniture consists of a small beige couch, a rickety wooden coffee table, a dated television on a cheap stand, a single bed topped with a plain, white quilt, and a tiny end table set next to the bed. There are no photos on the walls, no shelves cluttered with trinkets, no artwork, nothing to personalize the space at all. I know that Layla only lived here for a few months, but it seems that when she arrived here to start her new life, she took very little of her past with her.

  ‘Not much to it, is there?’ Lanner says.

  ‘Not at all,’ I agree, as I poke through Layla’s closet which contains a few cheap, work-appropriate outfits, a handful of dresses, and a pile of plain T-shirts and jeans. There are only three pairs of shoes neatly lined on the floor of the sparse closet and a few battered handbags with designer labels. ‘Doesn’t seem like she had much.’

  ‘Guess KitzTech doesn’t pay its interns too well,’ Lanner jokes as he inspects a battered-looking laptop that sits on top of the coffee table. I watch him open the top of the computer, but it appears to be password protected.

  ‘Bag that. We’ll have the IT guys go through it,’ I tell him.

  Lanner nods as he slides the laptop into an evidence bag. ‘That thing looks so old I’m surprised it even runs.’

  We continue to look through Layla’s few belongings for any clues about who this woman was and who may have wanted to harm her. I pick though a makeup bag and some hair products, and in her nightstand I find one photo of Layla and an older woman. That must be the grandmother that raised her. She’s rail thin and appears to be in poor health, making it difficult to guess her age. I look down at the photo. The Layla staring back at me looks much different than the filthy, bloody version of her that I saw in the early hours of the morning. Her thick brown hair has a shampoo commercial shine, her skin has a glowing tan, and her smile looks genuine. She was stunningly beautiful. I carefully place the photo back in the drawer feeling saddened that her life was cut so short.

  ‘Uh, Barnes, you may want to come take a look at this.’ I find Lanner standing beside Layla’s plain, simple bed. He holds up a small, leather-bound notebook that is tied closed with a leather string. ‘Looks like a journal,’ he says, thumbing through the pages. ‘Found it under the mattress.’ Lanner’s eyes widen. ‘Yeah, you’re definitely going to want to look at this,’ he adds, handing me the notebook.

  April 2, 2019

  Dear Diary,

  Do people really write that? I’m not sure of the etiquette. I’ve never kept a journal before! But I thought this would be a great day to start. Today was my first day at KitzTech. Everyone seems so friendly and welcoming. I already know that I’m going to learn so much here and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll get an offer for full-time employment down the road. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This was just day one. I wish I had someone to talk about the day with though. It feels so weird to be living on my own. My apartment is OK, but I miss Gran so much. It’s hard to believe she’s really gone. It’s been just the two of us for as long as I can remember. But I know she would be proud of me for starting this new adventure. This is going to be the beginning of a whole new life for me!

  April 9, 2019

  Dear Diary,

  I met my boss today, the CEO. I was so nervous introducing myself, but he was really nice. I hope I made a good impression. I really want to get a real job here. He’s SO hot, by the way – not bad for a guy that’s like 40!

  I flip forward a few pages.

  June 5, 2019

  Hello, again Diary. I think by now we can drop the ‘Dear’, don’t you? Especially since I’m about to tell you
my biggest secret. I slept with my boss, Vince Taylor. And OH MY GOD it was incredible.

  My jaw drops as I quickly leaf through the rest of the journal. One word stands out to me on nearly every page: ‘Vince’. But when I get to the back of the little book, I see that a number of pages were neatly torn out.

  ‘This is strange,’ I say, showing the book to Lanner. ‘Why would Layla have ripped pages out of her own diary?’

  ‘Maybe she wasn’t the one who took them out.’

  ‘Let’s see if we can find them anywhere.’

  Lanner nods in agreement. We comb over Layla’s small living space once again, but there are no signs of the missing diary entries.

  ‘I don’t think they’re here,’ Lanner says, giving up the search.

  ‘I don’t think so either.’ I slip the black book into an evidence bag. ‘Let’s get this back to the station. And then it looks like we are going to have to have another chat with Vince Taylor.’

  The moment I walk into the station, Officer Matthew Kinnon comes to greet me.

  ‘Did you get anything from Mindy? The neighbor I tracked down?’ he asks.

  Kinnon is a good kid, but he reminds me of an over-excited puppy. He’s new to the Major Case Squad, and eager to climb the ranks towards detective. I suppose I should be pleased that he shows so much initiative, but frankly I find him rather annoying.

  ‘Not really. Here,’ I say, handing him the diary and the laptop. ‘Can you take the book down to Evidence and see if they can lift any prints off of it? And let’s get IT started on her laptop.’

  ‘What’s the story with the book?’

  ‘It’s the vic’s diary. Found it hidden in her apartment. As soon as Evidence is through with it, I’m gonna need it back though. I want to have it on hand when I do some more interviews.’

  ‘Sounds like you found something juicy in her diary, huh?’ Kinnon gives me a sly smile.