Chapter 27
CORA
Finn comes out of the downstairs guest room with a towel around his waist and a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
I sip my morning coffee and watch as he huffs down the hall, swearing under his breath.
He goes to the master bedroom for a change of clothes.
The police have asked him to come down and answer a few questions, and he’s absolutely livid.
He hasn’t spoken to me since I confronted him, and the childishness of that and the speed with which decades of marriage can disintegrate are appalling.
He blames me for finding out rather than blaming himself for the sin.
I don’t know why I always thought that if I caught him, he’d cry and beg me to stay.
That we’d go into couples counseling and he’d change his ways, and maybe that would have happened if he was caught in a one-night stand that supposedly meant nothing, but the amount of evidence I presented him with—I guess he knows that there is nothing he can say to change it.
Not that he’d beg and cry for me. He’d be upset about the money he’d lose because of the prenup, but he’d pretend he was upset about losing me. I’ve woken up, and he can tell, so instead, he’s acting like a petulant child, and it actually tickles me to see him squirm.
I don’t think he’s a killer, though. No matter how shocking Paige’s evidence is, deep down I have to believe that he made a series of bad choices, just like he did with me.
But ultimately, the money transfer, the texts, all of that was based on a stupid, drug-related relationship.
I’ve realized that I don’t know him very well at all, so maybe I’m wrong, but I can’t let myself believe it.
I’m edgy and fidgety until he leaves the house.
His presence is agitating, and the weight of all that is to come with divorce lawyers and legal battles is exhausting to even think about.
So I try not to. I try to stay in the moment and take it in steps.
They will question him; they will release him.
He’ll blame me for all the humiliation. Then what?
He goes to a hotel? Stop. I need to let it go right now.
I dump the last bit of my coffee into the sink.
I don’t need to be any more jittery. Then I put together breakfast to take out to Nicola.
A couple hours later, I’m stopped in my tracks by the ping of my phone and a text from Paige.
Get Nicola and Avery out of the house! Now! And all their things!
“Holy shit!” I mutter to myself, leaping up from my seat on the sofa and rushing to gather my coat and keys. I don’t ask why; I just spring into action.
Nicola jumps and clutches her chest when I barge into the guesthouse.
“I’m sorry! But there’s no time. We gotta go right now,” I say, running around the space, pushing baby clothes and toiletries into a pillowcase I tear off the pillow on the bed. Nicola doesn’t ask why. We just move.
“Hide in the back of the car, like before. I’ll get the rest,” I say, handing her the keys, and she nods and quickly picks up Avery and goes out to the car.
I throw everything I see into the pillowcase and a few reusable bags I’d used to bring her food.
Contact lenses, makeup, shoes, plastic baby books, even open water bottles and the dirty dishes in the sink.
It can’t look like anyone has been here.
I don’t know why I’m doing this, so I don’t know how much time I have, but the adrenaline fuels me, and I toss the bags into the back hatch next to Nicola and the baby.
“What’s happened?” she asks, once we are out of the space.
“I don’t know yet, but let’s go,” I say, covering her and the bags with fleece blankets and rushing to the driver’s side. I pull out carefully, and as soon as I make it off our street, I feel a flood of relief. I keep driving and call Paige.
“Paige,” I say when she answers.
“Are you out?” she says, urgently.
“Yes, we’re all in the car, and I’m driving. What the hell happened?”
“There’s a search warrant for your house.”
“What?” I ask. My chest tightens, and I feel suddenly light-headed.
“You should all come here. If they search the house, they’ll definitely search that mother-in-law unit and find her,” Paige says, but I cut her off.
“Wait. Back up. Why are they searching my house?”
“Finn,” she says. “They arrested him. He called to tell me because you won’t answer his calls.”
“He called you?”
“I’m pretty sure I was his last choice. He said as few words as possible and hung up on me, but ultimately, the message is to tell you to pick up the goddamn phone. But right now, Cor, just get out of there.”
“No. What—oh, my God. But...a warrant?”
“He said he didn’t know Caleb well. Caleb has never been in his car or house, but I guess with everything we gave them, they thought they had enough evidence to think Finn was lying, because they issued a search warrant for both house and car.
Just get here. She can stay with me,” Paige says and hangs up.
There is just no way. This can’t be happening. He’s a total fraud, but not a murderer. I feel sick. I pull up behind Paige’s house. She opens the garage for me to pull in so we can get Nicola in through the attached door to the house without her being seen.
Once we’re all inside, Paige takes Avery and sits with her on the couch while we bring Nicola’s squashed belongings into the back guest bedroom.
When we return to the living room, I’m surprised to see the way Paige seems to change around the baby.
I know she lived for her son, but I didn’t know her when he was small, and she doesn’t exactly exude a maternal, nurturing side in general, so the way her face changes with Avery is remarkable.
She looks like the woman I knew before Caleb died, and even in the midst of all of this crisis, it’s heartening to see, even for a minute.
“I don’t know when they’ll search, but you can’t take any chances.”
“Thank you,” Nicola says, obviously shaken.
“I would have come by earlier this morning, but the police had a few more questions. But that’s for you,” Paige says, nodding toward the kitchen. The tiny recording device is connected to a laptop on the kitchen table across the room.
“I only listened to a few minutes to make sure it worked. I don’t need to invade your privacy, so you can take a listen, and if you find what we need, just mark down the time on the recording,” she says, and Nicola gives a hesitant nod.
She stands and walks slowly to the laptop as if it could hurt her.
She sits in the chair in front of it and lets out a long, forced breath to prepare herself.
Paige follows her in with the baby on her hip. She hands her the connected headphones.
“It’s just Play and Stop here. And you can fast-forward if you want to skim, and since you don’t want to take a hundred and ninety-two hours to do this, I’d try skimming it first.”
“Okay,” Nicola says, putting the headphones on and staring at the screen, which is nothing but squiggly audio lines that look like a heart EKG.
My phone buzzes. It’s a local number calling. It’s probably the police station. They would have taken Finn’s phone. Do they really only let you make one call, or is that a TV-show thing? I don’t know, but I don’t care, and I don’t want to hear what he has to say, so I push Ignore.
Yes, I do care. As soon as I have tapped the dismissal, I feel tears climb my throat.
This man I have loved for years and years is in jail, and I am cutting off his lifeline by ignoring him.
It’s not fair. I should get to hate him right now and not feel sorry for him.
But he has friends, and he has family, I decide.
I’m not his safety net anymore. Then I stand and go to the stove and heat water for tea while Paige finds a bright cartoon with colorful ponies that spark Avery’s interest. And we wait.
An hour later, Paige and I watch police pull up to my house. Mia is at the library researching a school project, and I hadn’t thought about someone needing to be there. Did Finn give them keys? Would they break down the door?
“Go,” she says, and I grab a cup of coffee to try to look casual.
I walk out Paige’s front door and attempt to walk slowly.
I don’t know why I think appearing normal when the police are at my house to search it is the right strategy, but I have never experienced this before.
I walk up to the front door where three officers are standing.
“Hey there, officers.” My God, why am I talking like this?
“Is this your property? Are you Mrs. Holmon?” asks the officer with a cliché buzz cut and Top Gun sunglasses.
“Yes, what can I do for you?” I ask, not knowing if I am supposed to feign surprise.
“We have a warrant to search the property,” he says, looking not at me but down at a clipboard.
He shows me a sheet of paper that I glance at.
I see one officer already behind the house, poking around in the yard.
I know we left in plenty of time, but it still makes my heart quicken thinking about what might have happened if Finn hadn’t called Paige.
“Ah, okay. So, do I let you in or...” I have no idea what I’m supposed to do or say.
“That would make it easier on us all, yeah,” says the older cop, who has a beer belly and a graying goatee.
And I realize that, in my haste, I hadn’t even locked the door.
I turn the knob, push it open, and stand aside.
I don’t follow them in. I sit in a rocker recliner on the porch, watching them come in and out.