by Ivy Smoak
"You definitely said you had something important to tell me." His gaze locked with mine and I felt frozen in place.
"Or did you say that?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulder. "We both did. But I'd rather hear your news first."
I gestured to all the Christmas decorations. "I just wanted to show you that I was able to decorate. Thanks to you bringing up that box. I can't believe you were able to lift it all by yourself. It was so heavy." I leaned against the opposite side of the kitchen island. Normally when I leaned this far over, my breasts would be on full display. But I was still wearing the stupid freaking winter coat.
"Yeah, I can see that. Christmas bush and all. Tell me, Ensley, why were you really drinking last night? Sure you didn't have anything to celebrate?"
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. "My husband is missing. Of course I didn't have anything to celebrate." I ran my finger down the condensation on my glass. "Just me all alone in this big empty house."
He lowered his eyebrows. "Ensley, are you feeling alright? You're looking a little...sweaty."
I was hoping the jacket was making my skin flushed and sexy. I wiped a bead of sweat off my forehead. But Detective Torres was correct, I was sweating bullets. "Yeah, I'm fine." This time when I flipped my hair off my shoulder it was because it was unbearably hot against my neck. Some of the strands stuck to the sweat.
"I need to discuss something with you," he said. "And I need you to be completely honest with me."
Nothing I ever said to him was honest. I needed to get closer to him if I was going to woo him out of questioning. "Of course, detective. How about we go get more comfortable in the other room." I walked away before he had a chance to respond.
It was a bad idea to come into the family room. Last night it looked like a Christmas wonderland. Today it looked like a tornado had swept through. I ignored the wreckage and gestured to the couch.
"I'm good," he said and leaned against the doorjamb.
Apparently my sweatiness was a huge turnoff. I collapsed on the couch, breathing hard. I needed to figure out a way to get him out of my house before I internally combusted. And before Noah got back. I was two seconds away from taking off my jacket and doing a seductive dance for him. I wasn't even sure how that would help, but my brain was becoming mush from the heat.
"So you called the police station Friday about your husband being missing, correct?" he asked.
"That is correct." I unbuttoned my jacket but kept it firmly wrapped around me. It let a tiny amount of cool air hit my chest.
"You said you saw him that morning?"
"Mhm." The small amount of air wasn't helping. It was too freaking hot. Had Noah turned up the thermostat?
"I went down to his office to ask his staff some questions."
That wasn't good. Neither was the fact that I was pretty sure I was about to faint from heatstroke.
"No one there has seen him since Tuesday."
"Tuesday? Oh, that’s weird. I wonder where he was going instead of work?" It came out more sarcastic than I'd intended.
Detective Torres just stared at me. "That's what I was hoping you could help me with."
Was he really that dense? "Let's see...my husband skipped work for a few days to..." I snapped my fingers but it made a sad noise because my hands were sweaty. "Oh right. He's a dirty cheat. He probably went to Canada to sleep with Sophia Tremblay. Or stalk her. Or whatever she claimed."
"We already confirmed that he wasn't sleeping with Sophia," he said. "Which means that Noah has been missing since Tuesday. Wednesday morning at the latest. Yet you claim you saw him on Friday morning. Did you see him Wednesday and Thursday morning too?"
"Yes." I didn't even have to lie about that.
"So your Canada trip theory doesn't exactly pan out there, Ensley. Leaving for Canada in the morning and coming back each night? A little hard to pull off."
I opened my coat and closed it again, creating a breeze. I didn't even care if Detective Torres saw my costume at this point. If I didn't cool off I was seriously going to pass out. "Right, and you're the expert on how long it takes to get back and forth to Canada. What were you doing there again?"
"Visiting...family." He cleared his throat. "I have family up there. Lots of them. I try to visit a few times a month."
Wow, Detective Torres was a terrible liar. If he had family up there he'd be guzzling maple syrup and saying 'eh' all the time. He was definitely about to say something else. What? Did he actually have business up there? It was out of his jurisdiction. Originally he'd told me it was personal business. Personal business did have to do with family. So why did it seem like he was lying?
"What did you do on your personal trip to Canada?"
"Caught a hockey game."
Damn it, that actually checked out. Canadians loved hockey. But I was pretty sure Detective Torres was sweating more than me now. I was about to ask him another question, but he beat me to it.
"Ensley, this isn't about my business in Canada. I'm here about Noah. And despite the fact that flying back and forth to Canada in that time frame each day would be difficult...I know for a fact that he didn't do it. I ran it through the system. He hasn't checked in to any international flights for weeks."
"Maybe he took a private jet."
"Does he do that often?"
How should I know? I'd made it pretty clear that I wasn't my husband's keeper. "He doesn't exactly keep me up to date on his business. And even if he didn't go to Canada, it doesn't mean he wasn't seeing a mistress instead of going to work. He's been seeing someone in town too. I know he has."
"And you didn't think it was important to tell me that information a few days ago?"
"It's a little embarrassing telling a complete stranger that you're not even good enough for your own husband!" I pressed my lips together. The heat was making me have loose lips. God, I really was about to faint. I flapped my coat collar to create a lackluster breeze.
"You know, I heard what Charlotte said. About not eating the whole pot pie yourself. Ensley, you must see that she only said that because she's jealous of you."
"Jealous? Of me?"
He nodded. "If anything, I'm certain you're too good for your husband. So how about you tell me when the last time you actually saw him was. Let's get him back safe and sound and then I can help set you up with a great divorce lawyer. I'll help you figure it out, okay? I promise."
I promise? Why did he keep saying shit like that to me? He wasn't flirting with me. He was just trying to mess with my head. "I told you everything I know."
"Ensley, no one at the office got a phone call from you once Noah went missing. You said you checked with everyone you know. Yet you didn't check with the people he works with every day? That's suspicious."
"I don't like his co-workers. Speaking of which, they're a bunch of liars. Noah probably was at work and they're just being stupid. Or covering for his cheating ass." I couldn't even think about what I was saying anymore. I was literally turning into a puddle. I stood up so I wouldn't melt into the couch.
He took a step back like he thought I was about to attack him.
"Are you seriously scared of me?" I asked.
"Should I be?"
I swallowed hard. Maybe. If he stayed there much longer...yeah, maybe. I wasn't going to let a bad detective be the one to bring me down.
"Ensley, your husband has been missing since Tuesday night. Not Friday. Why didn't you notify us right away?"
"Because he wasn't missing. I just told you...I saw him Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning."
Detective Torres shook his head. "See...I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me. And I also think you know where he is."
"Well, that's your opinion. And your opinion is wrong."
"You need to tell me where Noah is right now. Before something happens that you'll regret."
"I don't regret anything I've done." There was a lump in my throat that wouldn't go away. It felt like I was ch
oking. God, I'd basically just confessed. I needed to backtrack. I needed to say anything.
"Ensley, what have you done?"
"He killed my baby." Tears started to pool in the corners of my eyes. "Detective Torres, I lied. He did hurt me. Emotionally. Physically." God, all I could ever see was the blood at the bottom of the steps. "He drugged me. For years I was just...nothing. He made me think I was crazy. But he's a monster. You have to believe me."
"I believe you, Ensley. Let's go down to the station and I can get your full statement. And you can tell me exactly what you did."
I shook my head.
"Okay. Then tell me here. What did you do?"
I tore my jacket off because it was like I was standing in Satan's fire.
"Ensley, it's against the law to try to bribe a detective." His eyes stayed firmly on my face instead of wandering down to my revealing Mrs. Claus costume.
Yeah, he hadn't been flirting. He was using me. Tricking me. His promises meant nothing. No one ever kept their promises to me. "I’m not bribing you! It's freaking a thousand degrees in here and you're pointing a finger at me for murdering my husband." I threw my jacket at him.
He dodged it like it contained a bomb.
It didn't. But God, I wish it had. I could just picture stupid Detective Torres exploding into a million colorful pieces.
He shook his head. "I didn't say anything about homicide."
Oh no. Had I said that? My brain was rapidly becoming less mushy now that I could breathe again. "We both know what you were thinking." It was a lame excuse. I needed to do better.
"Ensley, did you murder your husband?"
"No. Of course not. I’m not a lunatic! But he was an asshole. I'm sure a lot of people would be happy if he was dead." Stop talking about Noah being dead.
He was staring at me like I was indeed a crazy woman. "You said he was an asshole. Past tense."
"I meant is. He is an asshole. I went to public school. I never properly learned my tenses."
"Noah was cheating on you. He abused you emotionally and physically. He drugged you. You had every reason to want to kill him.”
Fuck yeah I did. I pressed my lips together, not willing to risk saying anything else damning.
"Ensley, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of your husband. Obstruction of justice. And bribing an officer."
"Silence isn't consent! I didn't murder Noah. I told you everything I know. And I was wearing this outfit before you showed up. You can't arrest me. Detective Torres, you said you believed me..."
"Place your hands on the back of your head. Turn around. Kneel."
"But I..."
He drew out his gun and aimed it at my scantily clad chest.
Shitballs! "Okay." I held my hands up. "Okay. But I didn't murder my husband. You're going to look like such an idiot when you bring me in. Kind of like last time when you let your prime suspect escape. Do you really want that?"
"Now, Ensley."
I gave him my most innocent smile. "Damien, come on." I thought using his first name would help, but if anything he looked angrier. "I'll give you whatever you want. Just lower your gun and we can talk about this." I bit my bottom lip, wishing that I wasn't a sweaty mess right now.
For just a second, his eyes dropped to my breasts.
Oh thank God. It was a Christmas miracle.
But then he pulled out his handcuffs with his free hand as he shifted the aim of his gun to my forehead. He wasn't trying to injure me. He was going for the kill shot. I wasn't the one that deserved to die. My husband was. But life wasn't fair. I knew that better than anyone.
"I'm giving you to the count of three, Ensley."
That wasn't enough time to think of an escape.
"Three," he said.
There was a small glass Christmas tree decoration on the mantle. I could stab it into the side of Detective Torres' throat. But I'd never be able to grab it in time.
"Two."
Where was Snuggle Muffins when I needed him? If I whistled would he come to my rescue? Or would trying just make Detective Torres shoot a bullet into my skull?
"One."
I put my hands on the back of my head. There was no way out. I turned around. My detailed to-do list never planned for this. Tears ran down my cheeks as I knelt. Game over. I felt the cool metal of the handcuffs click around my wrists.
Chapter 27
Monday
"Detective Torres, you don't have to do this."
He yanked me to my feet. “You have the right to remain silent.”
"But I didn't kill my husband. It was just a figure of speech."
“Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.”
"Like...when you say Santa Claus' belly shakes like a bowlful of jelly. He hasn't actually raided the pantry for all the jam and binge-eaten all of it. His stomach just kind of looks like jelly jiggling."
“You have the right to an attorney.”
"I'm not a murderer! I swear to God. You have to believe me." I tried to shove my heels into the carpet to make him stop moving me, but it was no use. He was too strong. “Detective Torres! This is ridiculous. You know I didn’t kill anyone.”
He kept his hand on my bicep as he led me out of the family room and past Snuggle Muffins. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”
Do something, Snuggle Muffins. Attack! Anything. Help me.
For a second, Snuggle Muffins stood up. But thinking better of it, he sat back down like his mom wasn't being carted off to jail.
I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping he could sense that I was serious.
I could have sworn he narrowed his eyes back. Then he yawned and lay down.
No one's going to feed you while I'm gone. I tried to stop Detective Torres in his tracks, but he kept pulling me. "I need to make a phone call."
“Ensley, what didn’t you understand about anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law?”
“All I’ve said is that I’m innocent. You’re not listening to me.”
He pulled me forward.
“Please, I just need one phone call.”
"You'll be given a phone call when we reach the station."
"But I need to call Sally. She'll take care of Snuggle Muffins for me while I'm being wrongfully held. Please. I can't leave him here all alone. He needs someone." He needed me. But Detective Torres had made it pretty clear that he wasn't planning on letting me go.
"And like I said, you can call her from the station." He pushed me down the hall.
"At least let me change out of this outfit. Or put on a coat. It's freezing outside." And if I wear this to a holding cell, I'll surely end up being someone's bitch.
"You should have thought about that before you tried to seduce an officer."
"I wasn't trying to seduce you. I was already wearing this."
"And you knew I was coming over." His rebuttal was flimsy at best.
"You were early. Besides, you’re not an officer. You’re a detective. You’re better than this."
He stopped in front of the door. "Then tell me, Ensley. Who were you wearing it for? Your husband? If he's alive and you know where he is...tell me now."
I couldn't do that. "You were supposed to figure out what he's been up to." That was the only reason I'd involved the police in the first place. And maybe a little for the notoriety. "You weren't supposed to arrest me. He's the guilty one."
"And if he's alive when we find him, we'll talk to him about what he did to Sophia."
"Sophia?" I tried to keep my voice even. "What about everything he did to me?"
"There's no proof that he was drugging you. There's no proof that he hurt you. It would be your word against his. But if you tell me where he is, maybe we can work something out. Maybe you can be home in time for Christmas."
I didn't care about Christmas. And I certainly didn't care about this home. All I cared about was Snuggle Muffins and Noah. I swallowed hard. Noah
? I didn't care about Noah. I hated Noah. He was an asshole. And he left me tied up upstairs. Me being in handcuffs was his fault. All of this was his fault. So why the hell did I still care about him?
“He hurt me,” I said.
Detective Torres pulled me closer to the front door. “And when I told you about Sophia, you looked me in the eye and swore that he never hurt you. So, I don’t believe you.”
“Why? Because I don’t have my face beaten like Sophia? Are you seriously telling me I waited too long to come forward? What kind of fucked up policy is that? Time doesn’t erase the fact that he hurt me.”
“Time erases the proof.”
“Bullshit. Time doesn’t erase anything. My memories are proof. The fact that I can’t sleep at night is proof. All the drugs in my system are proof. And I’m telling you that he…”
“Ensley, just tell me where he is. Either we go to the station and we talk about it there or you just tell me here. Where is your husband? Final chance to tell me the truth.”
I pressed my lips together.
“If he’s alive, why won’t you tell me where he is?”
“Because I did something bad.” Really, really bad. I swallowed hard. I’d already said too much.
“What did you do?”
I shook my head. The only way out of this was Noah walking through the front door and helping me. I couldn’t go to jail. I wouldn’t be able to explain my way out of this. But Noah loved me. He swore he did. He’d help me out of this mess that he’d created. Or it would be the proof Detective Torres needed to send me away for a long time. It came down to how well he’d studied my case. How thoroughly he knew both me and my dear husband.
I was pretty sure I knew Detective Torres better than he knew me. I’d watched all the interviews. I’d studied him when he should have been studying me. He’d let one guilty housewife get away. And I was banking on the fact that he’d let another one go too.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything.”
He let me turn away from the front door to face him. And it was lucky that I did, or else I would have made a terrible mistake. I would have jeopardized everything when I didn’t have to.