Page 65 of Mean Streak

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“Jeff? What?”

She’d picked up on his vexation, and he welcomed the opportunity to unload. “It’s almost like they think I had something to do with Emory’s disappearance.”

“They can’t possibly think that!”

“Oh, they can. It’s always the husband, isn’t it?” He didn’t say “cheating husband,” but Alice was smart enough to infer the adjective.

In a small voice, she asked, “Have you told them about us?”

“God no. Hell no. I owned up to the fight Emory and I had on Thursday night, but… I don’t know. May

be I’m just being paranoid, but it seemed to me that they read more into it than it actually was. Knight even had the gall to ask if our fight had turned physical.”

“It’s their job to be suspicious.”

“Grange certainly is. He pounced when I mentioned packing a bag before leaving Atlanta, asked if I had counted on staying a while.”

“Did you explain how fastidious and persnickety you are about your wardrobe?”

He took that as a rhetorical question. “The two of them also have this good cop/bad cop routine that’s so transparent it’s almost funny.”

“Except that it’s not funny, Jeff. None of it. Your wife, my friend, is missing.”

“Yes, she’s missing. She’s missing because she went to a place where she—or any woman—should never have gone alone. I should have kept my mouth shut about it. Trying to talk her out of this trip only made her more determined. You know how strong willed she is. Now we’re all suffering the consequences for her bad choices.”

“Jeff,” she chided softly.

“I’m sorry. That sounded terrible. I’m not myself.”

She was quiet for a time, then, “These two detectives said there was no indication that she’d been accosted.”

“Not where her car was parked, anyway.”

“Which doesn’t rule out something dreadful happening to her while she was running, either foul play or an accident that impaired her.”

“That’s what I keep harping on to them, but…” He hesitated, debating whether or not to bring this up, then said, “They posed another explanation for her disappearance.”

“What?”

“It’s absurd, but they suggested that Emory met someone up here, a man, and that she’s on a lover’s getaway. Knight asked me outright if she was unfaithful.”

“Do you have reason to suspect that?”

That wasn’t the reaction he had anticipated, and it caused him to sputter a laugh. “Jesus, Alice. Not you too? What’s good for the goose?”

Apparently she was thinking precisely that. The extended silence at the other end was weighty with implication. Finally she said, “Knowing Emory—”

“It’s out of the question.”

“I was about to say that it seems highly unlikely.”

“If she has another love interest, it’s her damn marathons. Not a man. But to her, running is just as orgasmic as fucking. More so, if you want to know the truth.”

“I don’t want to know. I told you from the beginning, Jeff. We can talk about anything, no subject is off-limits, except your personal life with Emory.”

“Alice—”

“I never want to hear how wonderful, or lousy, or mediocre the sex is. I don’t want to hear about it at all.”


Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery