11th Hour (Women's Murder Club 11)

I understood that Joe had once been tight with June; I just hadn’t known he was tight with her still.

Were they involved?

Did Joe see her when he was in Washington every month or so? Were my hormonal surges making me paranoid? I knew what I was supposed to do about the mood swings: take naps, go for walks, spend time with my spouse, not be so hard on myself.

But was I thinking clearly? Jason Blayney’s mention that Joe was my husband was a direct and very personal message.

I went into the bathroom, threw up, took another shower, then went back to the kitchen. Joe had left his BlackBerry on the counter and it was buzzing.

I could read the faceplate from where I stood: June Freundorfer.

My hand hovered over the phone, my mind flashing like heat lightning; I had very little time to make this decision.

The phone rang for the third time.

Chapter 64

IT WAS RECKLESS, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I picked up Joe’s BlackBerry, clicked to answer, and put the phone to my ear. I heard the traffic sounds of a faraway city. It was painful to do it, nearly impossible, but I waited the caller out.

“Joe?”

“No, it’s Lindsay,” I said. “Joe’s wife.” I sat down on a bar stool at the counter.

There was a long silence as the woman’s mind fumbled for a moment. My head was spinning too.

“Ohhh. Lindsay. Hi. I — is Joe there?”

Her voice was softer, sweeter than I had imagined.

“Joe’s sleeping off his jet lag,” I said. “June, I want to know the truth. Are you and Joe having an affair?”

I suppose I could have eased into it sideways, asked about the charity event the other night, said that I’d seen the photo and that it made me wonder why Joe hadn’t mentioned the black-tie dinner to me. A less direct approach would have given me room to retreat, but retreat was the last thing on my mind.

My pulse throbbed in my neck as the question hung on a virtual phone line three thousand miles long.

Are you and Joe having an affair?

Finally, the woman sighed.

She said, “Lindsay, maybe this isn’t the best time to discuss this.”

“So, when would be a good time, June? What works for you?”

“I didn’t want it to turn out like this. We didn’t want you to know, but I guess there’s no point in lying anymore.”

The ground seemed to open beneath me and I dropped into the void. I heard, as if from a long distance away, my voice saying to June, “You didn’t want me to know that you’re sleeping with my husband? You’re aware that I’m pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that’s all I need to know.”

“Wait, Lindsay. Joe loves you very much.”

Her girlish voice was like a frigid wind blowing through my hair. She said, “Joe and I are close, have always been close, but it’s not marriage, Lindsay. It’s just one of those things.”

I turned the phone off.