Chapter Thirty Raine
Chapter Thirty
Raine
Gabe wasn’t surprised by my question.
“No. She’d never take Molly from her mom.”
“She or we?”
“Molly loves her mother.”
“But you both discussed a life without Maria.”
“I never said that.”
“But . . .”
He sighed. “Amy is easier to be around. I might have considered it for a second.”
“Maybe Amy thought about it longer than a second. Maybe she saw herself setting up house with you and Molly.”
“No.” He shook his head. “She understood the ground rules.”
Did she? I wasn’t so sure. “Okay.”
“I’m not a bad guy,” he insisted.
The silence lingered between us. And as it grew, Gabe became angrier. He glared at me. “Maria wasn’t an angel, either.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Maria was having an affair, too,” he said.
I raised my gaze. “With who?”
“I don’t know. But I smelled a man’s scent on her after her morning runs.”
“Did you ask her?”
“I did. She laughed. She’s always been able to fool me.”
I thought of Ken—his secret texts, the ones I’d buried until they’d burned holes in me. I’d confronted him on our anniversary in April. He’d clutched a cluster of sunflowers in his hand. Looked so pleased with himself until his gaze met mine. He’d moved out that day. And I’d filed for divorce.
I refocused. “How did the cyanide end up in your toolbox?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. Hell, I haven’t opened the toolbox in weeks.”
“The cops will test the packet for fingerprints and DNA. If they match the substance found in Maria’s body, they’re coming after you with both barrels.”
His eyes pleaded. “Why would I kill my wife? I love her. She’s the mother of my child.”
I’d seen killers panic when the reality of their situation had sunk in. Rage could burn hot, but when it cooled, regret settled.
“You must have resented Maria,” I said. “She could be a challenge. She suspects an affair. She pushed your buttons . . .”
He flinched. “I didn’t hurt my wife.”
“Maybe you snapped,” I continued. “Bought the pills. Hid them. Maybe you were a little horrified. And when the next fight came, you crushed them and put them in her wine.”
“Not true,” he whispered.
I touched his arm. He’d better get used to hard questions. “If you’re hiding something from me, it will kill us in court.”
His eyes were red rimmed. “I didn’t poison my wife.”
“Did Amy do it for you? Maybe she was more than willing to take care of the competition for you.”
He shook his head. “Amy wouldn’t do that.”
“The police will ask her. They’re tracking her down now.”
“Do they have to?”
“Yes. Like you, she’s a suspect.”
He exhaled. “This is so messed up. Maria is going to be so hurt by all this.”
No, you messed up all this. “Your prison record won’t help you.”
His jaw tightened. “I did my time. I’m trying to move on, but everyone finds a way to hold the past against me.”
I stared, unblinking. “Is that the reason you lost the recent job contract?”
“I didn’t tell them. And then they did a background check.”
“You lied to them.”
“I didn’t want it to matter.”
My annoyance spiked. “But it did, didn’t it?”
The tremble in his fingers grew more noticeable. “Look, I’ve screwed up a few times, but I didn’t poison Maria. Neither did Amy.”
“It doesn’t look good for either of you, Gabe. Once you’re formally charged, I’ll arrange for bail, assuming they don’t make it ridiculously high.”
“I’m not a flight risk. I have Molly. And Maria is still in the hospital.”
“Let’s hope the judge sees it that way.”
He gripped my arm, trapping it in a strong hold. “You can make the judge understand, can’t you?”
“I’m good, and I’ll do my best. But I can’t make any promises.”
“Does Maria know about my arrest?”
“I don’t think so. Trying to keep her stress low.”
“Can you visit her and tell her I’m coming to see her soon? Better it comes from you.”
“Yes, I’ll talk to her.” I rose. “Keep your mouth shut, Gabe. Don’t relax your guard. Judson isn’t your friend. He’s working against you now.”
His shoulders slumped. “I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Out in the hallway, Judson leaned against a wall, arms crossed. He lifted his gaze to mine, pushed away, and strode toward me—footsteps slow and steady.
“Gabe’s my client now. I’m on my way to the hospital to talk to Maria.”
“I’m going with you,” Judson said.
“I see her first,” I insisted.
“No, Counselor.”
“No.”
“She’s a material witness against your client. I talk to her first.”
“She’s also his wife. And my cousin.”
His expression hardened. “Focus on your client. I’ve asked the district attorney to set the highest bail he can.”
A logical move. But it was the first brick in a wall that was rising between us.