“Stan Delaney is formidable on the court,” one of his fellow club members had told Christina and Ethan, a man who was keen to let them know that he believed Stan had buried his wife’s body under their tennis court. “He’s ruthless. Calculating. Ferocious. He gets this look on his face that makes your blood run cold.”
Christina looked down at her notes as if to check them, although Ethan knew for a fact that she knew the timeline by heart.
“You woke up that morning—Valentine’s Day—and you didn’t see your wife?”
Ethan had been intimidated by Detective Christina Khoury when he first started working with her. He thought she thought he was a moron. She had a way of looking at him as if she were sizing him up and finding him wanting. But he’d got used to that look now. She gave the same look to her morning coffee each day, and she loved her coffee.
(Ethan’s aunt said that he and his brother were intimidated by women because they were subconsciously terrified of displeasing them due to the fact their mother had walked out when they were little kids. Ethan and his brother both agreed that was total crap. They didn’t say this to their aunt’s face, of course.)
“We were sleeping in separate rooms.” Stan answered Christina’s question with steady eyes.
“Was that a new development?” asked Christina.
“Relatively new, yes.”
She checked her notes. “And you went out to buy milk first thing in the morning?”
“Yes,” said Stan. “We were out of milk. I also bought the paper.”
“Right,” said Christina. “And you came home but you didn’t see Mrs. Delaney.”
“Not right away. I was reading … something in my office.”
That was new. Reading what?
Ethan leaned forward. So did Christina. “What were you reading?”
“Just some paperwork.”
“What sort of paperwork?”
Stan shrugged. “Nothing of importance.”
Ethan saw the lie, and he knew Christina saw it too. He watched her wait. She was still. He wondered if her heart was racing like his. Stan said nothing. Perhaps his was the fastest-racing heart in this small room.
“Right,” said Christina after a moment. “So you were reading this ‘paperwork’ and then you heard the front door.”
“Yes,” said Stan. “I don’t know where she’d been. But I heard her come in. And then I went to talk to her, in the kitchen. She was drinking a glass of water. She seemed … worked up about something.”
“And that’s when you argued.”
“That’s right.”
“About what?”
He crossed his arms again. Defensive. “It was just an ordinary argument between a husband and wife.”
“Considering the fact that your wife left your home and has now been missing for nearly three weeks, I’d say this was more than an ordinary argument between a husband and wife, Mr. Delaney.”
For the first time Ethan heard aggression in her voice: a hint of something bigger and more menacing beneath it, like a quick glimpse of a shark’s fin.
But Stan didn’t even blink.
Christina said, “So, that morning, after this ‘ordinary’ argument, you left the house and you didn’t come back until what time?”
“Around ten o’clock that night. Like I’ve told you. Many times now.”
“And where did you go that day?”