by Maren Foster
I’m all alone now without Adam. What if Nate gets out while Adam is in custody? Should I leave? No, I need to be here for Adam when he gets out. I can’t leave without him. I do need to be ready to get the hell out of here the minute Adam is back. Will he even be able to leave the state if he’s still under investigation?
What if Adam never comes back?
The Touch
Thursday, June 7, 2018
Old Greenwich
I was surprised by aggressive knocking on the front door. I peered through the peephole in the imposing wooden door. It was a man in his late thirties or early forties wearing fitted black jeans and a V-neck sweater. He was holding a leather wallet with a police badge open toward the door. I turned the deadbolt and opened the door the three inches the security chain would allow.
“Mrs. Ellis?”
Ugh, it’s Laurent, but sure. “How can I help you?”
“Detective Samuels. I’ve been assigned to the Hart case.”
“I didn’t know there was a case,” I said. “I thought I saw on the news that there was no sign of foul play.”
“Ma’am, you shouldn’t believe everything you see. We are required to conduct a thorough investigation in every case. Isn’t that what you would want if it was you?”
Yeah of course. “Sure.”
“Can I come in?”
I opened the door and showed him to the living room.
“What is your name?”
“Wynafreda Laurent.”
He looked at me skeptically. “You’re the wife of Nathan Ellis?”
“Yes. I talked to a detective yesterday about all of this.”
“I know. I’m just here to ask a few follow-up questions.”
“Okay.”
“How close were you to Mrs. Hart?”
“I don’t know. I’d say we were more than acquaintances, but I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call us friends. We certainly weren’t close.”
“How did you come to know Mrs. Hart?”
“Her husband and I grew up next door to each other. He and I were good friends and dated in high school. We all lived in the city after college and then they moved in next door about a year ago.”
“Do you think that was coincidental?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. We were already living here when they moved in. I never really thought about it.”
“Did Julia ever talk about her weight?” he asked. “You know, did she mention that she was dieting or something?”
“Not really. She was always skinny, even when I first met her. I remember that about her, but she was slowly getting even thinner in the last few months. I did notice that. But no, she never said anything about it at all to me. I’m sure.”
“Did you ever hear her and her husband talking about her weight or her dieting?”
“Not really. I think the only people I heard talking about her weight were her girlfriends. We were at a bar once and they were speculating about whether she was bulimic or anorexic. They were envious of her figure and I remember one of them saying that she wished she knew what Julia’s secret was, because she seemed to eat whatever she wanted and still be so thin. I guess I just figured that she might be bulimic or something, but it was none of my business, you know?”
“And what about her husband? You mentioned that the two of you were friends. Did he ever confide in you that he was worried about her weight specifically?”
“No, not that I remember. I know he really cared about her though,” I said. “He loved her, but I don’t remember him saying anything about her weight specifically.”
“Ms. Laurent, were you having an affair with Adam Hart before Mrs. Hart died?”
“No!” I said. Does sleeping together once qualify as an affair?
“If not, then what would you have us make of the text message that he sent you yesterday? The day Mrs. Hart died.”
“He sent me a text message? Honestly, I don’t remember. We are friends. We’ve known each other since we were born. We text. I don’t know what you should make of a text message that I don’t remember.”
He looked down at the pocket notebook in his hand. “Watcha up to tonight? Wanna hang out? You know who will be out at some big event.”
“Right, my husband worked late a lot and Julia had a lot of evening events for her work. Adam went along to some of them, but not all of them. Sometimes, when both of them were out for the night we would have dinner together for company. I wouldn’t call that an affair.”
He squinted at me and raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Hart?”
“About a week ago, I think. I stopped by to say hi.”
“Thank you for your time,” he said.
“Yeah, no problem,” I said.
I followed him to the front door and locked the deadbolt behind him. The news vans were still parked at the end of the driveway, and a few reporters tried unsuccessfully to interview the detective as he made his way back to his car.
My cell phone rang after noon. A local number I don’t recognize. I answered.
“Freddie, it’s me. Can you come pick me up from the police station?”
“Adam?”
“Yeah. They said I’m free to go.”
“Oh great! Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thanks,” he said.
I threw my purse in the back seat. As the garage door went up I noticed a few cars and one white van parked opposite Adam’s driveway. They’re back! I waited until my garage door was completely shut and then kept my gaze locked on the road ahead as I pulled out and drove past them.
The parking lot outside the station was quiet. I let the receptionist know I was there to pick up Adam Hart. She told me to pull around back and wait.
Eventually, Adam walked out, followed by two officers. They exchanged a few words and then he opened the door.
“You might want to get in back,” I said.
“What? After what just happened you don’t want me to sit next to you? Do you think I did it too?”
“No, just trust me.”
He muttered something as he slammed the passenger side door, but got in back and put his seatbelt on as the officers watched. I put the car in reverse and began to drive away.
“There’s media at your house,” I said. “It’s getting late, so they may be gone by now, but you never know.”
“Shit, you have a gun?” He was looking down at my purse.
“It’s Nate’s. I found it in his office. I’ve been pretty freaked out lately by myself at night in that big house.”
“Be careful, please,” he said. “Do you even know how to use it?”
“Sort of.”
“You need to learn or get rid of it.”
“Yeah, I know. Hey, when we get within a few blocks you should get down so they can’t see you. I’ll pull into my garage.”
“Okay,” he said, “but will you please stay with me tonight? I don’t want you to be alone in that house anymore.”
“Yeah, of course.”
About three blocks from the house, Adam laid down across the back seat. As I pulled past the stake out I glanced over to see if they were watching. A young guy looked up but seemed uninterested in me. Phew. I drove quickly into my garage. I checked to make sure that the stake out hadn’t moved before hitting the button on the garage door opener.
“Clear,” I said as the garage door closed.
Adam sat up, and looked around.
“Thanks.”
“Of course,” I said.
“I get it now,” he said, “and I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
“Thank you.”
We went inside and he waited in the middle of the house until I had closed all of the window shades. Then he snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I’m never leaving you again. I love you so much! I am going to make sure no one hurts you again,” he said.
I kissed him.
“You sa
id they didn’t charge you with anything, right?” I asked.
“No. They just questioned me all night and again this morning.”
“You must be really tired.”
“I am.”
“Who do you think did it?” I asked. Adam didn’t kill her. He couldn’t have. He’s not capable of that.
“Honestly, no one. I think she did it to herself. You know as well as I do that she wasn’t healthy. I don’t know what exactly was wrong, but she was way too thin. I told her she needed to eat more, but she seemed to eat all the time, and junk too, but it didn’t seem to matter. Maybe she did that thing where women eat a lot and then throw up.”
“You think she was bulimic?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Makes as much sense as anything, doesn’t it?”
“She ate a lot. She would have been doing a lot of puking that went unnoticed.”
He shrugged. “Can’t say I was really paying attention.”
“She didn’t look well the last few times I saw her,” I said.
“No.”
“There was some big event recently that she’d been talking about a lot. She seemed to be losing weight for it.”
“I bet the autopsy will show that it was an accident,” I said.
“Yeah, hopefully.”
“Look, I know she just died, and I understand if you are overwhelmed, but I got a call from the D.A. about Nate yesterday,” I said. “He said they reached a plea agreement and that Nate could be released any day. He won’t serve any more time in prison. I know that this is all happening fast, but I don’t think we have much time. I don’t want to be anywhere near here when he’s released.”
“Jeez. Yeah, we need to leave. It’s not safe here. We should get out as soon as possible. Let’s go back home. Leave all of this behind us and forget about it.”
I smiled. “Yes. Let’s go home.”
“I’ll need to sell my house, but I can deal with that once we’re in Chicago,” he said.
“What about your job?” I asked.
“I’ll tell my boss I need a transfer and that it’s urgent. I can’t see why they wouldn’t let me move and work from the Chicago office, but if for some reason they say it’s not possible I’ll find something else.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. We’re lucky to have each other. I don’t want to risk that now. I’ll go get started packing up essentials.”
“Yeah, I started this morning, but still need to finish.”
“Okay, come get me when you’re done and I’ll help load everything into your car. Then you can stay with me tonight and we’ll put your car in my garage.”
“Are you okay to leave first thing tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”
“Okay.” This just might work. Everything is going to be okay.
The Blow-off and The Fix
Thursday, June 7, 2018
Old Greenwich
I finished filling two big suitcases with everything I valued: clothes, jewelry, the scrapbooks Vi had encouraged me to make when I was a teenager, and a few framed pictures of the three of us. My hands shook as I threw my must-have sweaters, shirts, pants, underwear, and toiletries in an overnight bag. I left everything at the top of the stairs for Adam to carry down. I went next door and got him and he helped me load everything into the back of my car, which I then drove next door.
I grabbed my passport, birth certificate, a file folder where Nate and I had kept our important documents—life insurance, mortgage, bank account info—and my laptop. I made sure to take the love lock necklace that Nate had made me, which I’d stopped wearing the minute he was put in jail. I locked all the doors on my way out.
Adam’s kitchen was mostly empty, but I found enough food to put together dinner and flicked on the t.v. as I worked.
Adam came downstairs just as I was plating our dinner.
“Okay, I made some good progress packing. I just have a few more things to pack tonight and then I’ll just need to grab a few things in the morning before we start driving,” he said.
“Great.”
The six o’clock news came on. “Breaking news tonight. The Fairfield County Coroner’s office just released a report about what killed a local Greenwich woman in her own home.” The newscaster’s tone was somber.
He continued, “Social media influencer, Julia Hart, was found dead by her husband in their home yesterday. The cops questioned her husband, Adam Hart, extensively into the morning. He was released without charges this afternoon. A Police Department spokeswoman confirmed to ABC news early today that there were no signs of foul play, but that the Department would not close the investigation until the autopsy was complete. In the last hour the Fairfield County Coroner’s Office has released their preliminary findings. We will have more on what really killed Julia Hart in a few minutes. Stay with us.” The program cut to commercial.
Adam stared at the television.
“Why don’t you sit?” I said and motioned toward a bar stool. He sat down.
The commercial break ended. “I’m joined by Doctor Johnson from Stamford Hospital. He is not involved in the ongoing investigation into Julia Hart’s death, but he has read the report that the Fairfield County Coroner’s office released today,” she said, and turned toward the doctor, who was particularly handsome and not more than forty-five. He was wearing a white physician’s coat with his name embroidered above the breast pocket.
“Doctor, what is the report’s key finding?”
“Well, Karen, the key finding today from the Fairfield County Coroner is that Julia Hart died of heart failure as a result of hyperglycemia and ketoacidosis.”
She looked at him very seriously. “Doctor Johnson, what does that mean?”
“Hyperglycemia means high blood sugar, and ketoacidosis is a buildup of acids in your blood. Both occur when there is too much sugar in the blood for too long, caused by a lack of insulin, which means that Mrs. Hart was a diabetic.”
He continued.
“Specifically, she was probably a Type 1 Diabetic, who needed to inject insulin multiple times a day in order to live. The report notes that her body mass index at the time of death was extremely low. Critically low actually, which indicates that she may have been diabetic for quite some time and either didn’t know it, or had been diagnosed and chose not to treat herself with an adequate amount of insulin over a long period of time.”
“But Doctor Johnson, why would she do that?” Karen flashed him a flirtatious smile.
“This is really important. When a person’s body stops producing insulin, which is the key marker of Type 1 Diabetes, their body begins to use fat and muscle tissue for energy, which means they lose weight quite rapidly. If a Type 1 Diabetic doesn’t inject an adequate amount of insulin on a daily basis, the body begins to use fat and muscle for energy. When done intentionally, it is a condition called diabulimia. It is similar to bulimia, where a patient is intentionally purging calories from their body after consuming them, in order to lose weight.”
Karen said nothing, and he continued, “Some of the sugar in the blood leaves the body through urine, but most of it stays in the blood, damaging critical organs like the liver and heart, as well as the eyes and nerves. This damage can lead to death, as it did in this case. It’s very serious and I want to take a moment to mention that if you know someone who is Type 1 Diabetic, who is extremely thin, you may need to be concerned.”
“Very scary stuff, Doctor Johnson. And especially because it can lead to such an unexpected death at such a young age, as it did in this case. Thank you for being with us today.”
She looked at him with an appropriately furrowed brow and then quickly turned back to the camera and adopted a smile as she read from the teleprompter, “And we’ll be back in a minute with your weather forecast and a recap of today’s sports action.”
The program cut to a commercial for a local car dealership.
I looked at Adam. He was starin
g blankly at the t.v.
“Did you know?”