Chapter Twenty-Nine
Now
“Again?” I asked when Nasser called from his car to tell me the detectives wanted to meet with me. I closed the door to Adam’s room, where Binti was napping. “What is it now?”
“They say there are new developments they want to share with you.”
Instantly nervous, I pinched the skin on my throat. Did the cops still think I was a suspect? “What kind of new developments?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they found something on Ali’s devices. Listen, I was a little delayed by a client meeting, but I’m on my way to your house now.” Beeping sounded in the background. “Get out of the way, asshole,” Nasser muttered under his breath.
“Don’t crash in your hurry to get here,” I said before realizing how that sounded. Before I remembered that Ali died in a crash. There was momentary silence.
“I’ll be careful,” Nasser promised. “If the detectives get there before me, listen to what they have to say, but don’t answer any questions until I get there.”
“Why?” I asked, bitterness in my voice. “Because they think I might have killed Ali?”
“Listen, I don’t want you to worry about that. There’s no evidence that you did anything wrong. The cops always look at the spouse. Just be smart about what you say to them. The less said, the better.”
The doorbell rang. “It looks like they beat you,” I said before hanging up and going to let the police in.
“Nasser said you have new information. Is it related to my husband’s death?” I said once we were all seated in the living room. “Is it significant?”
“It could be.” Detective Fox’s crimson-tipped fingers brushed a feather from one of my decorative pillows from her tailored tweed slacks. “It’s an avenue we’re exploring.”
“What’s the news?” I crossed my legs and then uncrossed them. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but knowing that the police suspected otherwise made me nervous.
Detective Lloyd glanced toward the front door. “Is your counsel not joining us?”
“He’s on his way, but I don’t want to wait,” I said impatiently. “I’d like to hear whatever it is you came to tell me now.”
“OK.” Detective Fox gave me a perfunctory smile that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Your husband had a web page on the Channel Three website.”
“Yes, I know. It was set up so viewers could send in their financial questions.”
“And make comments,” Detective Lloyd added.
Detective Fox continued. “Your husband received threatening messages through that site.”
I gaped at her. “He did?” Ali never mentioned receiving menacing emails. “What kind of threats?”
“Threats of bodily harm. Death threats.”
“Seriously?” It was hard to get my head around anyone threatening Ali, who really was as close to a mild-mannered accountant as you could get.
You couldn’t take advantage of the man, but Ali wasn’t the type of guy to get into altercations unless pushed to his limits.
“And you think those were real threats and not some wack job saying stupid stuff on the web where he can be anonymous?”
“The threats were pretty specific,” Detective Fox informed me. “Your husband was warned to stay away from Mrs. Price.”
I sucked in a breath. “What?” Someone out there knew Ali was involved with Lizzie Martins before he died. Who?
Detective Fox kept her unwavering gaze fixed on my face. “It appears that the perpetrator believed your husband was engaged in a relationship of some sort with Mrs. Price.”
My heart dropped. There it was. More evidence pointing to an affair.
The possibility that Ali’s involvement with Lizzie had led to his death floored me.
Someone out there was mad enough about their liaison to kill?
I thought about the orange sports car. Should I tell the police about it? Or was I being paranoid?
“We have to take every lead seriously,” Detective Lloyd said. “Especially considering that your husband might have been unknowingly drugged. These threats suggest that someone out there might have had a motive to do your husband harm.”
“You think he was targeted?”
“Possibly. Mrs. Abadi,” Detective Fox began, “it would help us tremendously if—”
“Have you asked Lizzie about it?” I interrupted. “Does she have a boyfriend who might have been jealous of Ali?”
“We intend to talk to her after speaking with you,” Detective Fox said. “As his wife, you deserved to hear this information first.”
“I see.” It was natural for the police to acknowledge my primary place in Ali’s life.
But then it hit me that, to the cops, Lizzie was right behind me in importance.
They intended to speak to her next. In death, as in life, that woman was everywhere, all over my life like a bad case of poison ivy.
I pressed a fist against my lips as a bitter tang filled my mouth.
Detective Fox had a sympathetic look on her face. “The thing is, this investigation would move much faster if we could search your house.”
“For what?”
“To rule you completely out as a person of interest,” she said.
My stomach muscles tightened. “I’m a person of interest?” Hearing them say it out loud sent a wave of panic through me.
“We just need to establish that there’s no Xanax, or anything else that’s pertinent to the case, in your possession,” she said.
“It’s helpful to rule out the spouse as early into an investigation as possible,” Detective Lloyd added.
“Do it.” I stood up. I couldn’t handle the added stress of being a suspect along with everything else. “Go ahead and look.”
The detectives exchanged glances.
Detective Fox came to her feet. “Mrs. Abadi, just to be clear, do you consent to having us search your house?”
“Yes, I do,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
They got to work right away, the two of them, methodically combing through every room. I followed them around. They moved quickly and efficiently. Nasser texted that he was stuck in traffic.
To my relief, Detective Fox went through my bedroom.
Better to have her look through my underwear rather than her partner.
She spent a lot of time combing through Ali’s closet.
Emotion roiled in my chest as the detective went through my husband’s things—his favorite sweatshirt for lounging on weekends, the old jeans he wore to mow the lawn, the polo with his firm’s name on it that he sometimes wore to the office on casual Fridays.
I kept Ali’s closet door firmly closed most of the time.
There were too many painful memories nestled among the hanging blazers and neatly folded khakis.
“What time did you say your attorney was supposed to arrive?” Detective Fox asked as she sifted through Ali’s T-shirts.
“He should be here any minute.” I knew exactly why she asked. “You’d better hurry.”
Nasser showed up just as the detectives were leaving. He exploded when he heard about the search.
“I leave you alone with them for fifteen minutes and you give the cops permission to search your house?”
The sounds of Binti barking from Adam’s room flowed down the stairs. I’d never seen Nasser so worked up, but I held my ground. “That’s right.”
“But why?” Anger flashed in his dark eyes. “How could you be so reckless?”
“Because I’ve got nothing to hide,” I retorted, my face heating up. “I’m not going to hold the police up just because I can. I want them to rule me out as a potential suspect so they can focus on finding out if someone actually drugged Ali on purpose.”
He took a deep breath, his hands flat on the top of his head. “Do you know why they had to talk you into it? Because no judge will approve a search warrant. There’s not enough probable cause.”
“The police didn’t talk me into anything. They didn’t have to. The detectives asked and I agreed. They were actually very nice about it.”
“Of course they were nice!” he thundered. “That’s their technique. If law enforcement can’t get a judge to sign off on a search warrant, they sweet-talk someone like you into doing something that isn’t in your best interest.”
Someone like me. Stupid? Gullible? The kind of woman everyone assumed got cheated on.
My temper flared. “Don’t tell me what is or isn’t in my best interest,” I snapped.
“I want answers. About it all. Lizzie, the Xanax, what really caused the car accident. I can’t live with not knowing. It’s eating me up.”
“Don’t you see that this is not the way to get answers? They are looking for evidence in this house to hold against you. Don’t you get that I’m trying to do right by you?”
“Doesn’t it make sense to let them search? Once they don’t find anything suspicious, they’ll look for the real culprit.”
He blew out a breath. “Sometimes you can be very naive.”
I knew he wasn’t just talking about the police. But Nasser was wrong. I was done being lied to and taken advantage of. I might have been a gullible fool before. But that version of Amira no longer existed.
Jake called late the following afternoon while I was getting my van inspected.
I’d noticed earlier that day that it was a month overdue.
Ali used to take care of everything related to the cars, another chore that I’d never paid any attention to before.
As annoying as the task was, handling the inspection gave me a sense of empowerment.
Taking the reins, even on the most mundane tasks, made me feel less helpless.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Jake said, “but some old notebooks were found in Ali’s desk.”
“What kind of notebooks?” I envisioned pages filled with math equations even though I knew that wasn’t how accountants work.
“The kind you take notes in, with the spiral at the top.” Car horns sounded in the background. He must have called from the road. “I don’t know what they’re called.”
I got up from the sitting area, where a couple of other people were also waiting for their vehicles. “And he wrote in them?” I asked as I walked outside.
“It looks like it. Just notes that were jotted down here and there. I didn’t look at them too closely.”
“Who found the notebooks?”