Chapter 17 #3
“Why are you bringing this to me?” Bel asked. “Why didn’t you confront your husband first? By involving a cop, I could potentially arrest you for illegal drug possession if this turns out to be fraud.”
“I know.” Mrs. Triton snatched the pill bottle back as if that would somehow erase it from Bel’s mind.
“So why call me?”
“Because my husband told you he’d given me something.” Mrs. Triton crossed the floor and sank to the edge of her mattress.
“He implied it,” Bel corrected.
“Regardless, he’s clearly hiding it from me. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this, and you’re the only person who knows. Do I get night terrors that I’m unaware of? Do I sleepwalk and put myself in danger? What’s wrong with me that he feels the need to act on my behalf?”
“Can you remember when…” Bel froze as the walk-in closet caught her attention, and before she realized that she was moving, she had the garment in her hands.
“I didn’t know your husband worked at the aquarium?
” She extended the maintenance uniform for her companion’s benefit.
She’d seen this exact attire once before.
The maintenance man blocking their view of their mermaid victim’s conversation from the surveillance cameras had been wearing it.
The employee captured on the footage was inconsequential, but his uniform?
Its design had been burned into Bel’s memory.
“He doesn’t.” Mrs. Triton answered.
“But this is an aquarium uniform.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” The woman looked annoyed at their conversation’s sudden detour.
“My husband works in maintenance, but for a company that services multiple different facilities. They work a rotating schedule, so maybe he’s been to the aquarium, but he definitely isn’t an employee there. ”
“Okay.” Bel pulled out her phone, praying she was mistaken, and texted Olivia to search the aquarium employee list again for Mr. Triton’s name, just in case.
He wouldn’t be the first husband to lie to his wife about something so significant, nor would he be the last. “So you called me because you hope your husband has good reasons for giving you sleeping pills, but you can’t remember what they are? ” she asked.
“Until I know what’s going on, I don’t want to confront him. I don’t want him to think I’m snooping and distrusting. He spoke to you about it. He’s obviously only hiding it from me, and you seem like someone who understands heartache.” The woman’s eyes slid to Bel’s scars.
“Then maybe you’re right.” Bel hoped she was. “Maybe you have issues with sleep that your husband doesn’t want to depress you with. When was the last time you remember waking up groggy?”
“The morning Ariella disappeared.”
Bel’s stomach clenched, and her eyes involuntarily snapped back to the uniform. “And before that.”
“Last year. It’s been a while.”
“When last year?”
“I don’t remember the exact date.”
“Can you guess a general timeframe?” Bel pushed, and after a moment of contemplation, the woman answered.
Bel’s stomach seized tighter. That date sounded all too familiar, and she dug through her phone’s files until she found the mermaids’ missing person’s reports.
She scrolled through the dates until one’s innocently curved numbers punched her in the gut.
Mrs. Triton’s last memory lapse was around the same time that Briny Noble’s college roommate reported her missing.
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Triton asked, but before Bel could answer, a notification popped up, and she clicked on Olivia’s text.
Olivia:
Mr. Triton’s name isn’t on the aquarium employee list now, nor was it ever. He’s never worked there.
Bel sagged in relief. There was no cause for alarm… yet. “Can you remember any other dates that left you feeling groggy in the morning or experiencing memory loss?” she asked.
“Um… I’ll try.” Mrs. Triton started listing off the general time frames of her incidents, and Bel followed along with the reports, matching the suspected Ambien use to each mermaid’s disappearance.
Maren Fisher, Pearl Conway, Briny Noble.
All of them. And to slam the final nail in the coffin?
Ariella Triton and Ondine Mar. Every single missing girl coincided with Mrs. Triton’s seemingly random rough nights.
Only they weren’t random. They were the nights that Mr. Triton didn’t want his wife to know he’d left their bed.
“I need to take this with me.” Bel captured the pill bottle from the woman’s hands. “Forget you ever saw it and act normal.”
“What’s wrong?” The woman tensed as if she were readying to flee the house.
“Hopefully nothing,” Bel said, not that she had any hope. Eamon had been right. They’d been missing something, but without context, it was useless. She’d just got their context. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch.” She started down the stairs. “But please keep this conversation between us.”
“Okay.” The woman’s voice shook.
“Oh, and one more thing?” A sudden thought popped into Bel’s head, so she climbed back to the master bedroom. “Your daughter’s necklace. The one she always wore. Was that a gift from Erik?”
“No.” Mrs. Triton looked confused. “It was a gift from her father. He gave it to her ten years ago.”