I believed him. I really did, not just because I wanted to believe he was telling the truth but because deep down, the sincerity in his voice was undeniable. “Okay, Brian. I know,” I said and offered him another hug before Mila stormed out of the station.
“What will happen if they do find his phone at your house?” I asked, feeling a strange sense of panic.
“I don’t know. The lawyer brought up a good point that the pinned location could actually be an area in the park, which is much more likely than being at my house. So, I don’t think the phone is even at my house, but if it is, they will find out how it got there.”
“The park!” Of course, that makes sense. “You ready?” I asked, suddenly more aware of the fact that Mila, my best friend, had just stormed out in a jealous fit while we ignored her and kept talking. But honestly, did she expect me to be worried about her getting bent out of shape over a hug when my husband was just found murdered?
She was leaning against my car when Brian and I walked out of the station, smiling like she hadn’t even gotten mad. She was probably embarrassed, I know I would have been. “Let’s order carry out,” she said enthusiastically, obviously trying to take away from her previously childish behavior. Food. She was thinking about food right now?
“No thank you. I can take you guys home,” I said trying to hide the annoyance in my voice.
“My car is at your house,” Mila said.
“Just drop me off at home. Mila, you should make sure Chloe gets home safely anyway,” Brian offered, causing another jealous crinkle in Mila’s forehead.
“Yeah, okay.”
I tried my best to not look at the park, but I couldn’t help it. My eyes were drawn to it like those bugs to bright lights, something you know is going to be painful but you just can’t stop yourself. There was a squirrel running through the tree line, not far from where Carson’s body laid. It was so free as it bounced between the bases of the trees and I imagined there to be another squirrel that I couldn’t see, its mate even, playfully hiding from it. “Damnit!” I cursed while the car jolted to the side. I had nearly driven up on the sidewalk, barely missing Brian and Mila’s mailbox.
“Do you want me to drive to your house?” Mila asked nervously while Brian hurried in their front door.
“No. Sorry, I am fine.”
Mila never even mentioned Brian being arrested. Not even once. Her husband had just hired a lawyer because he was being accused of murdering his business partner, my husband, and she didn’t even mention it. Even in his sincerity, the fact remains that there was a shoe print matching his shoe size near the body and Carson’s phone somewhere on or around his property. It is suspicious, and it is definitely something I would note as worthy of discussion. And I found it strange that she didn’t.
Within minutes of being home, Detective Burns was knocking on the door.
“Hello, Detective,” I mumbled.
“Hello, Chloe. I am sorry to interrupt. We didn’t get a chance to finish our conversation earlier so I thought I would check in with you.”
“Yes, of course. Please sit down.” I pulled the chair out next to me and she sat down looking at my coffee cup busted on the floor. “Oh, I am sorry. I got startled when Mila knocked earlier this morning,” I explained, realizing now that the coffee would be dried into the tile and much harder to clean. “Would you like a cup?”
“Um, yes that would be great,” she muttered looking curiously at Mila. “You two seem pretty close. Mila, I assumed you would be home with your husband.”
“Oh, yeah. Well my car was here and Brian doesn’t want Chloe to be alone right now. Neither do I. It is a terrible time for everyone,” Mila said. She always spoke like she was running for Miss America and ended each sentence with a painted smile that showed off her veneers. The first time I met her I noticed this characteristic of hers and it was extremely bothersome. But after all these years, I don’t really notice it anymore until I watch someone else experiencing it for the first time. “I can give you guys some time,” she offered apologetically.
“Oh, no. Unless Chloe would prefer?”
I laughed as I poured them both a coffee and walked back to sit with them. “No, you are fine, Mila.”
“So, Brian wanted to go home alone after the station?” Detective Burns asked while I gave them each their coffee.
“Uh, no…” I said, thinking now about how suspicious it actually seemed.
“Chloe, were you and your husband frequent guests at a hotel recently, or anytime over the past year?”
I looked at Mila and back to her, smiling uncomfortably. “Uh, no. His office is only blocks from here. We have never needed to stay at a hotel.”
Mila looked away from me and quickly took a drink of her coffee. I could tell it burned when her face pressed with pain.
“Why?” I asked, looking back to the detective.
“Well, we have receipts that show your husband has been checking into a hotel quite frequently over the past year. But this is good news, Chloe. Assuming the cell phone location is in fact in the park, this is our next best lead. We will be able to track down who your husband was spending time with. It is very likely that his lover has something to do with the murder. Could have been the mistress or even her spouse if she is married.”
Her forced smile brought me no comfort and I looked to Mila again. Her forehead was now sweating and I surprisingly, almost laughed. “Take it easy with that coffee, Mila. You need to let it cool.”
Detective Burns kept her eyes focused on her while she wiped away the sweat. I looked back and forth between the two of them and felt sorry for Mila because I was just the target of Detective Burns’ judgements yesterday.
“Mila, are you okay?” Detective Burns asked.
Mila quickly nodded and nervously ran her thumb across the handle of the mug. I could tell the detective was making her uncomfortable which was certainly out of character for Mila’s personality.
“So, you think this has something to do with the lipstick on his neck?” I asked, trying to ease Mila’s obvious discomfort. But her eyes stayed on Mila and she nodded. Why is she so concerned with Mila? I looked between both of them suddenly feeling extremely conflicted when I noticed Mila’s gold hoop earrings.
I stared at them for several moments and I slowly reached in my pocket to pull out the earring that I had found on the kitchen floor. I looked down at it as it lay in my palm and I could feel Detective Burns’ eyes on it as well. I sat it on the table and slowly pushed it over to Mila.
She stared down and her silence let me know that it was hers. “Mila?”
She smiled awkwardly and reached to pick it up. “I lost this Sunday night,” she said turning it in her shaking fingers.
I looked back at Detective Burns but Mila kept her eyes focused on the earring. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and I didn’t want to blame my closest friend for something as terrible as having an affair with my husband, but I knew that she had not gone into the kitchen Sunday night. I knew that she was lying and Detective Burns knew it too.
She shifted her weight in the chair and started looking at the door, obviously searching for an excuse to leave that wouldn’t raise suspicion. But it was too late for that. I thought then about the red lipstick and remembered all the times I would compliment Mila for her ability to effortlessly pull off that shade.
“Mila…” I said slowly.
Her eyes filled with tears and I felt my hands shaking against the table so hard that it almost sounded like I was knocking on a door. Detective Burns reached to steady them and she cautiously spoke to Mila.
“Mila, if there is anything you need to say, now would be a good time to say it.”
Mila burst into tears and jumped up from the table. My face burned while her apparent guilt for sleeping with my husband was spilling through the room.
“How could you?!” I burst out.
Detective Burns grabbed my shoulders trying to calm me and Mila melted into a pathetic mess.
“Chloe, I didn’t,” she attempted through her tears.
Of course she did. What could possibly cause this reaction if she hadn’t slept with my husband?
“I knew he was having an affair, but it wasn’t with me!” she cried.
I fell back into my chair thinking about the weight of what she had just said. My best friend knew that my husband was having an affair and didn’t tell me? How could she have kept that from me, and why?
“No, Mila. Brian didn’t even admit to knowing of an affair,” Detective Burns told her confidently and I looked back to Mila. She was right. Mila wouldn’t have known about the affair when Brian didn’t unless she was the one he was sleeping with.
“Oh, my God,” I cried out as I dropped my head into my hands.
I heard the door slam behind her and Detective Burns sat back down. “Chloe, I am so sorry.”
I wiped my face and looked back at her. “But this doesn’t help with anything. Mila would never have murdered him and neither would Brian,” I told her and then thought about Brian, “Oh, poor Brian. This will devastate him!”
“Chloe, you need to open yourself up to the possibility that Brian had already found out. His best friend and his wife. These are two ingredients we see in crimes like this all the time. First the shoe, then the cell phone, and now the affair. I know you do not think he would do this, but things are not looking good for him right now, especially now.”
I just cannot fathom the idea that Brian would have done this. “Wait, there could have been another woman!” I suggested. My own hopefulness in saying that startled me as I desperately tried to come up with any other scenario than Mila and Brian being responsible for Carson’s murder.
Detective Burns looked at me suspiciously while I thought back on Mila’s reaction to me telling her about the lipstick from the picture in the station. “I told Mila about the lipstick and she seemed hurt by it. I had thought she was just empathetic to me, but now I know that it was something more. If she wasn’t with Carson that night, then that explains why she was so hurt by it. She wasn’t’ feeling sorry for me, she was jealous!”
“Okay, Chloe. I am going now to check with the hotel and find out who he was spending time with there. We should have a search warrant for the Whitmore’s residence within forty-eight hours which will either eliminate them as suspects or prove one of or both of their guilt.”
I nodded, feeling completely mortified with myself. “I cannot believe that I am actually hoping there was more than one woman my husband was having an affair with.”
“Chloe, it is easy for people to assume what emotions they should feel in times like these but there are no right ones. This is an incredibly complicated situation and I don’t think there are protocols for how to handle it,” she said as she carried her coffee cup to the sink. “I am going to the hotel now, if you need anything, call.”
I looked at Mila’s cup still sitting there and my face burned with anger thinking of how my own best friend had betrayed me in the worst possible way. How could she have even looked me in the eyes after doing such a terrible thing? How could she even show her face in my home? She was going to just show up to dinner and eat with my husband while her husband and I sat foolishly beside her. How could Carson do this to Brian? This will ruin Brian. And her face when I mentioned the lipstick, she really thought she had some right to feel betrayed by my cheating husband? I throw her coffee cup against the wall as I scream out. I hate her. She has been the one person I have leaned on over the past five years and she was the one I should have kept at a distance.
I heard once that people who are unfaithful are the most likely to accuse their spouses of being unfaithful. That explains Mila’s childish tantrum at the station. She must assume that everyone would be willing to destroy a marriage for a decent lay. She must think every woman is willing to jump into bed with the first man who looks at her and that morals and modesty do not exist anymore.
The phone rings and I stare at the coffee running down the wall. I huff, defeated by its persistence. Oh great, Carson’s mother again.
“Hello,” I said calmly and listened to her burst into hysteria on the other end of the line.
I have never connected with this woman in my life. Even on our wedding day she wouldn’t look at me. She has always hated me and I reciprocated those feelings but now, listening to her so absolutely devastated, I felt sorry for her.
I didn’t know what to say so I just held the phone and listened to her cry. I could tell she was trying to make words but she was losing the battle. I sat on the sofa and it took several minutes for her voice to become somewhat legible. “Chloe, what happened to my baby?”
“Janet, I am so sorry for your loss,” I told her genuinely. I knew that she only had fond memories to hold onto now. I knew that her pain would be far greater than mine and I felt for her. “Where are you?”
“My flight was delayed and I am waiting to board now. I will be there tomorrow evening.”
Any other time, my skin would have crawled at the thought of her arrival, but now I actually feel relieved knowing that she will be here. I don’t know what to do about funeral arrangements and I am completely alone now. I just lost the only two people in the world that were close to me. I have no one. I hated to admit that I needed Janet, but I did.
“Okay, good. I will get the guest bedroom ready for you,” I told her before she broke off into tears again.
I hung up the phone and walked to the linen closet to get fresh sheets for the bed. I looked at how perfectly folded each set was and I felt angry at their order. They were taunting me with their perfect arrangement as my life was a complete disaster and I slammed the door shut. I pulled the old sheets off the guest bed and threw them into the floor to replace them with new ones. I angrily ripped Carson’s jacket off and discarded it into the pile of bed sheets.
I sat on the corner of the bed and looked at the painting that hung above the dresser. Carson had insisted on buying it at an art exhibit we had gone to. Mila and Brian were with us and I swear he only bought the painting because it was the most expensive one there. Now, I realize he was probably just trying to impress Mila. I hated it then because I saw it as nothing more than messily thrown together brush strokes. I had found Carson’s appreciation for the price alone to be a worn-out show of his generous bank account. But now, I smiled at its frenzy of colors and appreciated it more than ever.
Chapter Five
I don’t know how long I stared at the painting and I don’t know what I thought about as I did. Maybe I wasn’t even thinking at all. I finally snapped back to reality and looked away only when I heard knocking at the door.
I walked down the hall, preparing myself for whoever was at the door this time. I stood up to look through the peep hole and dropped back down when I saw Brian standing there, alone. What am I supposed to say to him? What is there to say? I jumped when he knocked again and I slowly opened the door to him.
His honey brown eyes were almost glowing as the red filled the whites around them, a clear indication that he now knew about the affair. He looked terrible and my heart sank knowing that he too had no one to talk to. Carson and Mila were both of our safety nets and now neither of us had them.
And he was handing me a red rose…
“Uh, someone must have left this for you. It was lying on your welcome mat.”
“Oh. Okay,” I said, taking the rose and attempting to name who would have left it. But my mind was blank.
“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.
I gave my best effort at a smile, “Yeah, of course.”
He walked in and it was apparent he was unsure how to act, but so was I. Not only was it awkward because of the reality of him having been taken into custody for the murder of my husband, or even the affair, but also because we had never been alone together. And I couldn’t help but find the irony in the fact that our spouses had spent too much time alone.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.
&nbs
p; He took his coat off and hung it on the coat rack. “Do you have any scotch?”
“Red or black?”
“Whichever you have more of,” he said, falling into the kitchen chair.
I threw the rose onto the counter and grabbed two glasses and the bottle of black label. I turned and sat with him and noticed him staring at the evidence of the busted coffee mug running down the wall. I debated on making up an excuse, but I figured there was no point.
I poured us each a generous shot and slid his across the table. He intercepted it with a crooked smile. He raised his glass to mine and I closed my eyes to down the shot. I filled it again and this time I just slid him the bottle.
“You do believe me that I had nothing to do with this, right?” he asked. His eyes were saddened by even having to ask the question. I wanted to tell him that of course I knew that he didn’t, but I couldn’t honestly say it.
“Brian, I know the phone could be in the park, and I do believe you. I really do! But, the shoe print at the scene…and the anonymous tip?”
“Chloe, I know it looks bad. It looks so bad. But you have to believe me that I would never have done this to Carson. Ever!” A tear fell from the corner of his eye and he looked away, embarrassed from his reaction. “I was home! I wouldn’t even have had time to do this.”
I smiled at him then. He was right. He was absolutely right. That is why Mila didn’t even consider it worthy of discussion. Mila didn’t have to question if it were possible because Mila was with him that night. “I’m sorry, Brian. I just cannot process everything right now. I believe you, really. They will figure out who did this.”
We sat quietly while we shared half the bottle and finally he said to me, “How long do you think it was going on?”
“Who knows?”
He tipped the bottle straight to his lips, taking a large swig before reaching across to hand it to me. I pushed my glass aside and took it, eagerly.
“Cheers to our ignorance, right?” I smirked before taking another drink. “I am really sorry, Brian. I know this has to be harder on you than it is on me.”
The Things We Don't See Page 6