“No, I don’t.” Detective Hightower closed the manila file. “I’ll talk with Detectives Reed and Pitkowski, but right now, I’m standing down.”
Jill wasn’t sure they could put it to bed so fast. “Just like that? So quickly? You’re sure?”
“Dr. Farrow, I listened to you, as did two other detectives. We’ve given this matter more than enough of our time and resources.” Detective Hightower touched his mustache. “Tonight was a fiasco. A murder investigation isn’t a spigot you turn off and on.”
“But you were convinced until Abby’s call.”
“Incorrect.” Detective Hightower gathered the photo of William with the man in the polo shirt and slid it into the manila file. “I said I was going to follow up with Missing Persons. What you learned in New York isn’t sufficient evidence to overturn a coroner’s finding, or convert this case to a homicide. But I’ll leave it to Detective Reed. He caught this case, and he’s stuck with it.” Detective Hightower handed her William’s car registration. “Please, take this back. I made a note that I saw it.”
“Thanks.” Jill put the registration in her purse, and Brian moved toward the door, with Victoria behind.
“Good-bye, Jill,” she said. “I wish you the best.”
Brian nodded at Detective Hightower and Jill. “Thanks again for your time, Detective. Nice meeting you, Dr. Farrow. Sorry I was so rough on you, before. Occupational hazard.”
“Good-bye, take care, both of you.” Jill watched them go, torn between pressing the matter and letting it lie, stuck between here and there. Suddenly she didn’t know where she belonged, because she didn’t belong anywhere.
Detective Hightower cleared his throat, in a pointed way. “Dr. Farrow, I’ve done all I can do.”
“How will I know if they follow up with the girlfriend?”
“Call them. Not me.” Detective Hightower softened again. “But, please, don’t go chasing any more cars, and for what’s it’s worth, I don’t think you’re being followed. That SUV could’ve been anything.”
“Like what?”
“He coulda been a guy waiting for a woman who’s not his wife. He doesn’t want to get caught by you, you could be one of her friends.”
Jill tried to believe him, listening hard.
“You know, I’ve learned a few things, in twenty-two years on the job. People do strange things, every day. You meet them at different times in their lives, under the influence of whatever. Most of the time, people are straight-up nuts.”
Jill nodded. “I guess.”
“They’re not criminals, they’re idiots. Like your ex. The man’s an idiot, I can tell you that, if he lost you.”
Jill thought of Sam, bittersweet. “Thanks. I do appreciate all you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome.” Detective Hightower extended a hand, and Jill shook it. “While I’m on a roll, you want some advice? Don’t get caught between those two sisters. My wife has a younger sister, and I know how it goes. The baby of the family stays a baby. Period.”
Jill wondered if he was right. She was an only child, with an only child.
“Now, go home.”
“I will, thanks.” Jill’s heart went heavy in her chest. She turned and left, then realized suddenly where she could go.
Chapter Forty-four
Jill told Katie the whole story, and she listened while she made a diorama. Magic Markers, construction paper, and overpriced modeling clay cluttered the kitchen table, and a shoebox sat on its side. Jill missed a lot of things about elementary school, but making dioramas wasn’t one of them.
“I don’t know what to think, anymore.” Jill rested her chin in her hand, behind a mug of cooling decaf. “Why did William have a secret identity, and who the hell is the blonde with the Sephora bag?”
“She has no kids, this we know.”
“How?”
“The eyelash curler. Really?”
Jill smiled. “I’m trying to talk about a murder.”
“I bet she’s young, like, an egg.” Katie kneaded brown clay with her hands. “William was dating an egg.”
“Still, Katie, not the point.”
“Yes it is. You’re the one missing the point.” Katie held up the clay, which looked like a Tootsie Roll with pink spots. “How’m I doing?”
“What is it?”
“I told you, I’m making Winn-Dixie from the book Because of Winn-Dixie. It’s a dog, named after the store.”
“Oh.” Jill was so distracted, she didn’t remember Katie telling her.
“This is the body, but I can’t get him skinny enough. Story of my life.”
“What are the pink spots?”
“Bald patches, remember? Winn-Dixie had bald patches.”
Jill didn’t remember, and she was thinking of Megan, whom she should have called to tell her about Abby. She checked the clock—10:45. Megan should still be up. “Mind if I use your phone to call Megan? I can’t believe I didn’t when I first came in.”
“Tell her I said hi, and don’t beat yourself up. No teenager hopes her mom will call.” Katie stuck brown legs on the dog body. “I don’t know how they expect a second-grader to read a book and make a diorama, in three days. Why not ask him to juggle or take the SATs?”
Jill went over to the phone, picked up the receiver, and pressed in Megan’s cell number. The call rang a few times, then went to voicemail, so she left a message. “Hey honey, just wanted you to know that we found Abby and all is well. Hope you’re having fun. Love you. Call anytime, I’m at Katie’s. Bye.” Jill hung up. “Now what point did I miss?”
“Sam. Sam is the point. You love that guy, and you’re about to lose him. Call him. Say you were wrong and you’re sorry.”
“But I wasn’t wrong.” Jill felt her gut wrench. “Abby behaved badly, but she’ll be back, and I was right about the principle.”
“Oh, okay, like that matters.” Katie rolled her eyes, kneading the clay. “Abby was jerking you around, and her sister has her number. I’m with that detective. Call Sam and say, come home. You can use the phone in the living room, if you want privacy.”
Jill put a hand on the receiver, but didn’t pick it up. “I don’t know.”
Katie lifted an eyebrow. “You’re really not going to call him?”
“I don’t know what to say. He doesn’t want Abby in our lives, and I don’t like him telling me who I can love and who I can’t.” Jill felt her gut wrench. “I love Sam, I do. But I love Abby, too, and she’s not in L.A. forever. She’s just latched on to another, older guy.”
“But Sam loves you, and he’s worried about you. Call him and tell him the cops don’t think you’re being followed, at least.” Katie frowned, her tired eyes pleading. “Tell him Abby’s safe, too. He probably even cares about her. He’s a caring guy.”
Jill flashed on what Victoria had said, about William. He wasn’t careful with anything, even people. “You’re right. Sam is caring.”
“So call him.”
“All right.” Jill pressed in Sam’s cell number, and the phone rang. He didn’t pick up, so she waited for voicemail to leave a message: “Hi babe, I just wanted to let you know that Abby turned up in L.A., and the cops don’t think I’m being followed, so don’t worry.”
Katie was motioning to her. “Say you’re sorry,” she mouthed.
Jill said into the phone, “I’m sorry, and call me when you can. Try me at Katie’s or later at home. Love you, bye.” She hung up.
“Good girl!” Katie beamed. “Even if you didn’t mean it, you sounded convincing, and that’s all that matters.”
Jill smiled, her mood lighter, which is what girlfriends were for. “Do you think the detective was right, that the baby of the family stays a baby?”
“Absolutely. Jamie is my baby, and I do more of his homework than the others. And don’t think he didn’t read Because of Winn-Dixie. He did, all of it. I’m the one who watched the DVD.”
Jill’s thoughts turned to Nina D’Orive. “Wonder how I can f
ind out what his girlfriend does at Pharmcen? I know a Pharmcen rep and I could find him and call him, but it’s a big company.”
“Try Facebook.”
“Right.” Jill rallied. “Mind if I use your computer?”
“Go ahead, I’m already logged in.”
“You use Facebook that much?” Jill went over to Katie’s laptop, which was on the countertop, nestled among a stack of bills, catalogs, and school notices.
“Of course, don’t you read your feed?” Katie flattened the dog body, but a leg dropped off. “I’m the Queen of Farmville.”
Jill logged onto Facebook, went to the Search function, typed in Nina D’Orive, and there was only one result. “Got her. Good thing she has such an unusual name.”
“What’s her profile picture look like? I bet she’s skinny. A skinny, skinny egg.”
Jill clicked Nina’s profile picture, which was a Welsh corgi puppy. “No, it’s a really cute puppy.”
“So she’s either eleven years old or Barbie herself.”
Jill clicked to Nina’s wall, but the privacy settings must have been on the maximum. “Damn, I can’t see her page. I’m not her friend.”
“No, you’re definitely not.” Katie stuck the clay leg back on. “You’re the psycho ex who’s stalking her.”
“Can I friend her, as you?”
“Sure, but why would she accept it?”
“I can send her a direct message with the friend request, right?” Jill thought a minute. “I’ll say I work in a doctor’s office. If she’s a drug rep, she’ll say yes.”
“You can’t do that, you’re logged in as me.” Katie walked over with Winn-Dixie. “My profile says I’m an at-home mom.”
“I need to write something that will make her want to accept me.” Jill found herself staring at the clay dog in Katie’s hands. “We know she likes dogs. I’ll say I’m looking for a corgi puppy for my daughter.”
“You mean your sons. You’re me.”
“Oh, right.” Jill got excited. “I’ll tell her I thought her puppy was cute, and I’m curious who her breeder is. People love to talk about their dogs, and you don’t see many corgis.”
“It might work.” Katie molded Winn-Dixie’s other leg. “She’s so young, she has a practice dog. Remember when you thought a dog was just like a baby, then you found out a dog is nothing like a baby?”
Jill clicked the box to send a friend request and typed a direct message: Dear Nina, I think your puppy is supercute. My boys would love a puppy like that. Who is your breeder? Best, Katie She clicked SEND MESSAGE. “Think she’s online?”
“Of course. Everybody’s online at night, especially the hot girls. They talk to the men while the moms talk to each other.”
“She is hot, the Realtor said.”
“You jealous?”
“Of course not. I feel bad for her. God knows what scam he’s running on her. She could be another drug rep, but if that’s true, he’s taking a big risk not using his real name. Someone could recognize him as William Skyler.” Jill thought a minute. “I bet she doesn’t know he’s dead. She’s probably wondering where he is.”
“Unless she killed him.”
“Aren’t we dark, Winn-Dixie?” Jill glanced over, surprised, then her attention returned to the screen. “It can’t be a coincidence that she works for a drug company. William targets women to use them.”
“You know, I worry about you, girl. You fell out of love, but you need to fall out of hate.”
“What?” Jill looked over again, and Katie’s pretty features had fallen into troubled lines.
“I know you’re not in love, but are you in hate? Because that’s no good, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t get closure on William, not really, because of the way it ended. You didn’t see it coming. You’re still emotionally involved with him.”
“No, I’m not.” Jill scoffed.
“Then why are we looking up Nina the Egg?” Katie cocked her head, and her reddish blonde bangs fell into her eyes. “You told me you cared if he was murdered because Abby cared, and I bought that. Well, now what? Abby’s out, but you’re still in.”
Jill had to admit that it was true. “You’re right.”
“I know I am. I always am.” Katie smiled. “So the question remains. Why do you care whether William was murdered or not?”
“I guess I do care, and maybe you’re right.” Jill shook her head, considering it. “I know I’m not in love with him anymore, but maybe I’m in hate. I’m not sure. But I do know that today, I got all the way up to New York, and I found all this out about his double life, and I felt like I was getting to the real him, like finding out what he was really up to.”
“Yeah, so? Why does it matter to you, what your ex-husband is up to?”
Jill thought harder. “I guess that all this time, since what happened with the script pads and the way William left that night, I never knew what he was up to, in my own marriage. Under my own roof, under my own nose.”
“Aww, honey.” Katie’s face fell into sympathetic lines. “Finding out what William was up to in New York isn’t the same as finding out what he was up to in your marriage. That time has passed.”
“Has it?” Jill looked up, questioning. “I’m still the same person. He’s still the same person.”
“Except for the dead part.”
“It doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter. I want to know who William really is, or was. The truth of who he is, because I think it will help me understand the truth of who I am, or who I was in that marriage, and how I’ll be the next time, if Sam comes around.” Jill was finally getting some clarity, and she felt like it was her heart talking, now. “You can’t go forward to the next step without figuring out the last one, right? It’s like I’m trying to diagnose what went wrong in my own marriage, and part of me feels this will help. Because I really want my next marriage to last, Katie. Whoever I marry, Sam or no. I want it to work. I want forever, too, and I’m scared that this is my last chance.” Jill felt tears in her eyes, and Katie put a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Okay, then. I get it, and I’ll help you, whatever you need.”
Suddenly the monitor screen changed, and both women turned to the laptop. Nina D’Orive had accepted the friend request, with a direct message: Dear Katie, My puppy rocks! Check out my photo album to see more of her and her littermates! I love my breeder and she ships. Do you want the address? Thx for asking! Sincerely, Nina ox
“Oh my God.” Jill felt her heart pound. She couldn’t believe she’d just made contact with William’s girlfriend, when this morning she didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.
“She uses the ox for someone she doesn’t even know? She’s definitely Barbie.” Katie set down the clay dog. “What’s the matter with women?”
“I’m writing her back. I want to start a conversation with her, to see where it will lead.” Jill clicked COMPOSE MESSAGE. “She could know everything about William, about what he was doing and why.”
“Or, like I said, she could be the killer.”
“Killers don’t have corgis.” Jill typed, Dear Nina, I’d love the breeder’s address and anything else you can tell me about your dog. I never had a corgi before and I’m on the fence. Are they good with kids? Best, Katie Jill hit SEND MESSAGE. “See, I want her to convince me. I need to engage her.”
“You sure this is safe?” Katie asked, her tone worried.
“Yes. Now, let’s see what else we can find out about our new friend.” Jill navigated to Nina’s Info page, and her listed address was Hoboken, New Jersey. “That’s funny. I had a Manhattan address for her. She must have moved.”
“Jill, do you see what I see?” Katie pointed to PERSONAL INFO, and under STATUS, it read, Married. “Barbie’s cheating on Ken.”
“Whoa. That must be what happened with the address. She moved and married, but didn’t change her name.” Jill read down, noticing that Nina listed her employer as Pharmcen,
but didn’t specify her job. The page showed that she had sixty-three friends, twenty-nine in the Pharmcen network, and five others were family, including her husband. His profile picture was of an overweight guy in a sweatshirt, and his name was Martin Dunwilig. “See, the husband’s last name is different.”
Katie squinted at the husband’s photo. “Dude. Unfortunate fashion choices. Also, hit the gym. Wifey’s skinny for a reason.”
Suddenly another message from Nina popped onto the screen: Dear Katie, I see from your FB page that you don’t live that far from me, and your sons are adorable! If you want, you can bring them to meet my puppy Ruby! We can meet at the park! They’ll fall in love! Sincerely, Nina Xo
“Wow.” Jill grinned, but Katie recoiled.
“You’re not going to meet her, are you?”
“What do you think?” Jill hit COMPOSE MESSAGE. “Don’t worry, I won’t bring the boys. I’ll just tell her I will.”
“You shouldn’t go alone, honey. Want me to go with you?”
“No, how can you? I’m you.”
“I’ll be me, and you be you.” Katie screwed up her face. “Wait. I’m confused.”
Jill laughed. “No thanks, I’ll go alone. You don’t know which questions to ask.”
“She’ll see that you’re not me. We don’t look alike.”
“Damn.” Jill paused, thinking. “What’s your profile picture?” She plugged in Katie’s name, and her Facebook page popped onto the screen. Her profile picture was of her boys, as was every other picture on the page. “No worries. The least-photographed person in the world is a mother.”
“Wait, I think I have a shot of me in there. Let me check.” Katie palmed the mouse, navigated to an album, and found a vacation picture that had a photo of her, but in a Phillies hat that covered her features. “Just one.”
“Perfect. You can’t see your face at all.”
“Thanks. Also my hips are wider than yours.”
“No, they’re not, and she’s a girl, so she won’t notice.”
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