Chapter 38
With Gabby gone, Simon’s shoulders relax, but only slightly. Every part of him radiates concern, and I know from one glance what he is thinking.
‘You think Otis has something to do with Alexa’s disappearance, don’t you?’ I ask.
‘He’s the only person I can think of that would,’ Simon replies, swallowing hard. ‘And statistically speaking, whenever anything bad happens to someone, the perpetrator is usually someone they know. Someone they’re close to. Alexa doesn’t have many people in her life that she’s close to.’
‘Only you and Otis, by the sound of things.’
Worry creases Simon’s forehead. ‘You can’t seriously think I have anything to do with her disappearing, do you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply truthfully. ‘I came here to find out who Alexa was meeting and what they knew. As for other judgements, I’m not sure it’s my place to make them.’
‘I swear to you, Janine, I didn’t hurt Alexa.
I never would, but I can’t say the same about her husband.
You should know that according to Alexa, Otis is strong-willed, impulsive and under a lot of pressure.
Those aren’t ideal traits at the best of times, but after what they’ve both gone through, I can only imagine how those characteristics manifest. Pushed far enough, who knows what he could do? ’
I grip my mug, trying not to let my fear show as once again Otis transforms from loving husband to suspect.
‘The first time I met him, I thought he was an arsehole,’ Simon adds.
I blink. ‘You’ve met Otis?’
‘Sure, at Families United. He came with Alexa.’
I can’t hide my surprise at this. ‘Otis attends Families United, too?’
‘God, no,’ Simon says, pulling a face. ‘He came to one meeting, left partway through and refused to entertain the idea of going back. He left Alexa to grieve on her own.’
‘He said as much himself,’ I reply, an answer that surprises Simon.
‘Wow,’ he replies. ‘Alexa was trying for weeks to get him to admit that. Funny how it takes her to disappear for him to see what a shit husband he’s been.’
‘I don’t know if he meant to be shit,’ I say, struggling to find my words. ‘There’s a lot about Otis Clarke that I don’t know, but I saw him a couple of days ago and he was a shell.’
‘Yeah? Well, Alexa said he’s been a shell of her husband for a long time now. She’s been a shell of herself, too.’
My mouth twists in sympathy. ‘I met Alexa once,’ I say.
‘At a fertility appointment. I didn’t know who she was.
It was only when I saw a photo of her that I realised who had gone missing.
But what she said to me that day helped.
There’s a bond between people like us, I think.
People who can look at someone and see that they share a connection through something so awful. ’
‘Is that why you want to help find her?’
‘It is,’ I admit before locking my eyes on Simon. ‘Simon, you have to go to the police with this.’
Shutters slam down over his face. ‘I can’t. They’ll find out about the money.’
‘I know, but you won’t be able to hide this forever. The police are going to find out you were meeting Alexa. I mean, all I did was look through her diary. You’re in there as a recurring Friday meet-up.’
Simon’s concern spikes.
‘You saw the police last night,’ I continue. ‘They’re looking for a missing woman. They need all the help they can get. They need to hear exactly what you’ve said to me today.’
All life gets sucked out of Simon at my words. He flops back against his chair, his expression glazed. ‘They can’t find out about us meeting. It will ruin everything.’
‘Simon, you and Alexa weren’t doing anything wrong.’
‘Anything wrong? I’ve been secretly meeting another woman every week for months. I’ve been taking her money to fund fertility treatment for my wife, then lying and saying I’ve earned it. What part of that isn’t wrong?’
‘But you said there was nothing going on between you and Alexa.’
‘There is nothing going on, but that’s not the point. The point is that every day, I lie to my wife. When I say I’m working extra hours, when I say the money is ours, it’s all lies! Annalise has been through enough without adding this to the mix.’
‘But you’ve lied for her benefit,’ I argue.
‘So? A lie is still a betrayal of trust, no matter how good your intentions are.’ Simon lets out a pained groan. ‘How could I be so stupid? How did I not guess this would come back to haunt me?’
As Simon presses his knuckles into his eyes to stop himself from crying, I think of all the lies Kamal has digested over the last few months. I’ve told many, but none have tortured me as much as Simon’s lies torture him.
What does that say about me as a person?
What does that say about my marriage?
Swallowing those acidic thoughts, I lean forward. ‘Simon, the police have Alexa’s phone. They will find out about you through your contact history. When they do, it will look bad if you haven’t come to them first.’
‘Alexa and I delete our messages, though,’ Simon says.
‘They’re the police, Simon. They have ways of knowing who someone has been in touch with and how often they are.’
Simon rests his head in his hands, the epitome of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. ‘This is such a mess.’
‘I know, but a woman you call a friend is missing. You might be able to help find her. You can either go to the police yourself, or they can show up at your house one day when you least expect it.’
Simon flinches at the image of Annalise opening the door to the police. ‘But I don’t know anything about Alexa’s disappearance. I don’t know where she is.’
‘So? Your friendship with Alexa can help build a bigger picture of her life before she disappeared. Besides, the police are under the impression that Alexa was syphoning money to leave Otis. You need to tell them what that money was really for.’
Simon groans, his head dropping once more. ‘But what if Annalise doesn’t understand? What if she can’t forgive me?’
‘If you explain the situation like you did to me, I’m sure she’ll see why you did this.’
Simon pales as he lifts his head to meet my gaze. ‘What if she doesn’t?’
I don’t have it in me to explain the alternative ending.
‘The truth is going to come out one way or another. Right now, you have the luxury of deciding which way that is. Either get ahead of it and control the narrative, or let the police show up and tell Annalise a version where secret meet-ups are as dodgy as they sound.’
‘Secret meet-ups.’ Simon groans. ‘It sounds so bad when you say it like that.’
‘You needed a friend, Simon. Alexa was that person for you. There’s no crime in that.’
‘I just hope Annalise sees it that way,’ he replies, sniffing back tears. ‘You know, I knew Alexa wouldn’t be here today, but I came anyway. I hoped I’d walk in and see her sitting at our usual table, waiting for me.’
‘I kind of hoped that, too,’ I admit. But the more time that passes, the more my hope of ever seeing Alexa again dims. Now, the light is so dull, it’s almost extinguished.