Ex-wife. “When was the last time you saw or spoke to Melissa?”
“Spoke to.” He brings a hand up and rubs his jaw. “Um, about a week ago. I like to call her sometimes. Catch up with her. See how she’s doing.”
“Even though she left you?” Fletch asks. “Even though she asked for a divorce?”
“Yes,” he snaps. “Even though. Melly and I have known each other most of our lives. She was the first woman I was intimate with, and I, the first man she was with. We were each other’s first kiss. Each other’s first date. We shared all of our firsts, Detectives, so even though she asked for a timeout, we still had love for one another.”
“But she didn’t ask for atimeout,” I counter. “She asked for a divorce. Were you angry about that?”
“You’re trying to paint me as a bad guy!” He shoves up from the table and stalks across the room with his hands linked in his hair. Looking back at us, his face burns red. “Yes! I was angry. I was hurt. I was heartbroken that she wasn’t where I was in our relationship. But love.” He fists his hand and smacks his thigh to emphasize each word. “Still.” Smack. “Remained. I love my wife, Detective!”
Ex-wife. “So you spoke to her a week ago?” I bring the tension down. Calm my words. Allow the guy a second to breathe. “What did you talk about?”
“Normal things.” His chest heaves as he searches for air. “I asked after her mom. We talked about her brother and sister, who are both overseas right now. We talked about her work, and the girls down at the salon.”
“Did you get along with the ladies she worked with?” Fletch asks. “Was everyone friendly?”
“Sure. I used to drop in there a couple times a week to say hello. Maybe bring Melly coffee. Trudy was always nice. And the other women were too.”
“And now that you’re divorced, do you still get along with them, or have they taken sides?”
“There were no sides to take,” he chokes out. “Our divorce was the most amicable in the history of all divorces. We didn’t fight. We didn’t bicker over assets or bank accounts or anything like that. We were each reasonable, and for the most part, whatever Melly wanted, I let her have.”
“Because you loved her?”
“Yes! Because I wantedher. Not the damn car. I wanted my marriage, not our paltry savings.”
“You wanted her so much, you let her go?”
“I behaved appropriately!” he snaps. “I treated her wishes with respect and kindness, because if I ever wanted to get her back again, being an asshole was the one way to make sure that would never happen. Yes, I get along with the women she works with, but obviously my visits to the salon stopped. I get along with her family. I used to hang out with her brother sometimes. There is no animosity here, Detective. You’re digging in the wrong place.”
“When was the last time you saw her in person?” Fletch takes over and draws Anton’s attention to him. “You qualified your last response, as though the last time you saw her and the last time you spoke to her were two separate events.”
“I saw her in person about a month ago.” Frustrated, maybe a little tired, he steps into his kitchen space and grabs a dining chair, then dragging it back, he sits down with a huff. “I saw her in the city, but we were both passing, heading different directions. I waved. She smiled and waved back.”
“You didn’t stop to talk?”
“No.” He rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “It was just that quick moment, then we were apart again and going on with our lives.”
“Mr. Creed?” I draw his eyes back to me. “How did you feel when you found out Mel was having a baby?”
Like a lightswitch, his spine goes ramrod straight. “How did it feel to find out my wife was having someone else’s baby?”
Ex-wife.
“I was hurt. I wasdevastated, because that wasourplan. We did all the steps, Detective. We were high school sweethearts. We dated. We didn’t rush, but eventually, we married. The next step would be to have a baby, but Mel asked for a divorce instead, and while I was focused on being the gentleman and holding my tongue, she went out and took our next step with someone else.”
* * *
“Oh, brother.” Slipping back in to our car and pulling away from Anton Creed’s home, Fletch whistles under his breath. “Dude is seriously pissed. We need more,” he murmurs. Then casting a look my way, he pulls his lips between his teeth and grins. “We found ourselves a solid contender, but a judge ain’t gonna give it to us that easily.”
“Let’s go speak to Trudy and the others at the salon. See how they feel about everything that’s going on. Even without an alibi, we need more to tie Creed in.”
“He had means,” Fletch ticks his points with his fingers. “Motive. He still loves her, Arch. She belonged to him and was a little naughty, stepping outside that marriage. And he had opportunity. Single guy, lives alone, and has completely wiped his entire evening out of his schedule. That’s three, and potentially enough to present to a jury.”
“We need more.”
Taking out my phone, I dial Minka’s number and wait only a moment for her to answer.