Chapter 38
I walk through the archway that leads to the hall. Normally, I would simply keep walking, and no doubt that’s what Roy expects me to do, but instead, I turn around and close the double doors. We never close the double doors. But this time, I do.
I keep walking to the bottom of the stairs, my heels echoing on the floor, then I slip off my shoes, leave them on the bottom step, and hurry back.
I lean against the wall, my ear to the door.
“Did you exchange texts with Ms. Greenwood over the last forty-eight hours?” Marcos asks.
“Texts? No. No. We spoke on the phone.”
I feel a shift in the air. A breath behind me. I look over my shoulder. It’s Marie.
My stomach drops. I turn around, scowl at her, willing her to go away. I’m sure she’s going to say something very loudly, like, “Can I help you, Mrs. Davies?” She probably still hates me for her uncooked chicken.
But instead she lays a finger on her lips. Shhh.
Then, swiftly but quietly, she goes to stand on the opposite side of the double doors and slowly brings her ear to the door, so that we are staring at each other.
I have no idea what she’s doing, but I can’t argue with her right now or Roy will fling open those doors.
A click, like a satchel being opened. “This is your phone number?” Bates asks.
A pause, then Roy. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll ask again, and please consider your answer carefully, Dr. Davies. Did you send those texts to Ms. Greenwood?” There’s a rustle of paper. Then Roy. “No! No! Never! I told you, we spoke on the phone, that’s all.”
“When?” Bates asks.
“Day before yesterday, late afternoon.”
“But then, you wrote in this text—”
“I just told you, I didn’t send any texts! You can check my phone!”
“Yes, thank you. We’d like to take a look at your phone. Did you go to Ms. Greenwood’s residence after you spoke to her on the phone?”
“No.” Silence. It goes on for a full minute. “I fell asleep,” he says softly.
“What do you mean?”
“I was supposed to meet her at her house around ten that night, but I fell asleep reading a book and I didn’t wake up until the following morning.”
The sound of pages turning.
“So you didn’t go to Ms. Greenwood’s residence.”
“No.”
“Can anyone confirm you were here, asleep?”
“My wife can.”
“She was with you?”
“She was upstairs, in bed. I mean, she would have been asleep herself, but she found me here the next morning in my office. I’d only just woken up.”
“So technically, you could have left and returned.”
“Yes, but I didn’t.” A pause. Then he says, “Are you saying someone was there at her house when she died?”
“We’re looking into it.”
“Who was there? Do you know? Was it David?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, only that the neighbors reported hearing shouts.”
“Oh God.”
“Why were you planning to meet Ms. Greenwood at her residence the night before last?”
“She’d called me. She wanted to talk.”
“What about?”
“She didn’t say, but she was insistent. She said it was important, but she wanted to say it in person. And…”
“Yes?”
“She told me she’d missed me. Terribly.”
“Missed you?”
Roy sighs audibly. “We used to be in a relationship for a few weeks. Before I met Jodie.”
Liar, I think. It was so much more than a few weeks.
“I see. So what did you say when Ms. Greenwood told you she missed you?”
In a soft voice, he says, “That I missed her too.”
“But you were not in a relationship with her.”
“No.”
“Did you want to have a relationship with Ms. Greenwood?”
He doesn’t reply for a long time. Finally, he says, “Yes.”
I’m trying really hard not to look at Marie. I don’t want to see her smirking, gleeful face, but I can’t help it and steal a glance. Her face is like a mask. She meets my gaze, but there’s no emotion on it.
“So you wanted to rekindle your relationship,” Bates says.
“Yes, maybe, I don’t know.”
“Even though you’re still married,” Bates says.
Roy doesn’t reply.
“Did she want to rekindle the relationship?” Marcos says.
“Yes! I think so. She said she missed me and—” He stops abruptly. “Do you suspect me of having something to do with what happened to Veronica?”
“We’re looking at every possibility at this point.”
“Then I think I’d like a lawyer present.”
“Certainly. Then we’d like to resume the conversation at your earliest convenience. Would tomorrow morning suit you? Here. This is my card.”
The scraping of chairs. Marie and I move away from the door in unison. I’m about to run off but she grabs my arm.
She opens her hand, and I look down at the small black square in her palm. My breath catches. It’s the thumb drive.
She brings her mouth close to my ear. “I watched it.”