Griff touched his jaw again. “Oh, I uh, must’ve walked into something. I should probably cut back on the beer. Old college habit.”
“Uh-huh,” the chief said.
Griff’s hands were shaking. That could be chalked up to excessive alcohol consumption or might be the first sign of an impending anxiety attack. The attacks were a recent thing with him. They started when his father and the money went away simultaneously, and picked up steam once he realized that Kate was likely to leave, too. Griff had been steady all his life, but of course, he’d had an easy life until recently. Maybe if he’d had things rougher, he would’ve been a bag of nerves all along. He’d tried Prozac for a bit, but quit when it interfered with his drinking, alcohol being his preferred refuge in a crisis.
The shaking attracted the chief’s attention to Griff’s hands. There were noticeable scratches on the backs of his hands and on his forearms. The chief saw the scratches, and exchanged a meaningful look with the female detective, who pulled a notebook from her purse and wrote something down. Griff got up to check on the coffeemaker, wishing he had never let them in.
“So what is Ms. Eastman’s relationship to the Keniston Eastman who owns this house?” the chief asked.
“Keniston is Kate’s father,” Griff said. “You said if I let you in, that you would explain what this is about.”
“We’re getting to that,” the chief said, staring at Griff with dislike, or maybe it was suspicion.
“Mr. Rothenberg,” the female detective said, looking at her notebook, “a couple of nights ago, one of our officers found a vehicle abandoned in a parking lot off River Road, near the town boat launch, just downriver from the old railroad bridge. A 2014 red BMW three-series convertible with New Hampshire plates, registered in the name Katherine Elizabeth Eastman. Are you familiar with that vehicle?”
“Yes, that’s Kate’s car. What was it doing there?”
“We’re hoping you can help us figure that out,” she replied.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
“When did you last see your wife?” the chief asked.
“Uh, hmm. How do you take your coffee, by the way?” Griff asked, to buy time.
“Any way is fine,” the chief said, watching him closely.
Their questions were beginning to alarm him. He needed time to organize his thoughts. He needed moral support, or better yet, legal advice. Too bad Burt Lippmann was serving five-to-forty in Allenwood for conspiring with his father.
Griff filled three cups and carried them to the table. He was shaking so hard that coffee sloshed onto the tablecloth.
“I asked when you last—”
“Yes, I heard you,” Griff said, taking a seat and a big gulp of coffee. It burned his mouth, and he winced. “Uh, let’s see. I last saw Kate … maybe a day or two ago. Maybe three.”
“You’re not sure?” the chief asked.
“Let me think,” Griff said. “Thursday. I’m pretty sure I last saw her on Thursday. What day is today?”
“Today is Sunday.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Do you still think you last saw her Thursday?”
“Yes, it was the day before her birthday, and her birthday was on Friday.”
“So you didn’t see your wife on her birthday?” the chief asked.
“No.”
“That’s pretty unusual, for a man not to see his wife on her birthday. Were you having marital problems?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“Based on what you just said, you haven’t seen your wife in three days, but you didn’t report her missing. Why not?”
Griff’s heart started to pound, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Did something happen to Kate? Just tell me.”
Griff glared at the cop, and he glared right back. The female detective cleared her throat.
“Mr. Rothenberg, I’m afraid we have some bad news,” she said.
Griff went cold, and then hot. He’d been avoiding acknowledging to himself the likely reason behind their visit, but the moment had come when denial was no longer an option. He looked into the female detective’s eyes, which were kind, and tried to speak, but found he couldn’t. Kate, Kate, Kate, I love you so.
“Yesterday, a jogger on the river trail found a body washed up on the bank of the Belle River,” she said. “The 911 call initially went to fire and rescue, who responded and took custody of the body of a female subject, approximately five-four, a hundred ten to a hundred twenty pounds, blond hair, thirty to forty years old, deceased. Does that match the description of your wife?”
“Yes,” Griff said softly, looking down at the tablecloth. “I mean, it generally does, but that doesn’t mean it’s her. Right?”
The detective flipped through her notebook again. “The medical examiner took fingerprints from the body, which is standard procedure. The fingerprints were matched to one Katherine Elizabeth Eastman, previously arrested in New York five years ago on suspicion of DUI. We were able to trace her to this address, which is how we found you. The conclusion is that the deceased is most likely Ms.—”
“Yes,” he said, and the syllable came out like a plea for her to stop.
“We were hoping you might be able to come down to the station,” she said gently. “You won’t be viewing the actual body. The ME photographs the victim prior to autopsy, and we have the official pictures at our office. We need you to make a formal identification for the record.”
Griff put his head down on the table and cried like a baby.
22
Aubrey was touched when Griff called her from the police station. Touched, but not surprised that she was the one he’d turn to in his moment of need. He didn’t call Jenny, even though Jenny was the mayor and tight with the chief of police and could pull strings. He called Aubrey, because Aubrey had always been on his side. Aubrey had the integrity not to blame Griff for his father’s mistakes. She never thought less of him because he’d lost his vast fortune. She never stopped thinking he was gorgeous, and interesting. She never wavered in her support and friendship even when his family name became synonymous with “crook” in certain circles. When Jenny and Tim lost the money they’d invested with Marty Rothenberg’s firm, Jenny turned her back on Griff. She was afraid of associating with the likes of him, as if the stigma would rub off. Griff moved up to Belle River and couldn’t find a job to save his life, but did Jenny offer to help? Nope. Everybody in town owed her a favor and she couldn’t be bothered to make a single call. What kind of way was that to treat an old friend?
Jenny wasn’t the worst offender, though, not by a long shot. Kate had vowed to take Griff for better or worse, richer or poorer. On their wedding day, as Aubrey recalled, Griff was richer and Kate was poorer. She’d run through her trust fund, and her father wouldn’t pony up any more beyond the cost of the fancy wedding, but Griff went ahead and married her anyway, without so much as a pre-nup. Was Kate grateful to him for coming to her rescue? Hell, no. The second the feds raided Rothenberg Capital and slapped the cuffs on Griff’s dad, Kate turned around and started treating her husband like dirt. He could no longer support her in the fashion to which she was accustomed. Coming down in the world is a bitch, and Kate took her frustration out on her husband. Forget the vows. Marriage vows meant nothing to Kate. That part about forsaking all others? Optional, as far as Kate was concerned, as Aubrey had learned to her own pain and disappointment. Aubrey spent her entire adult life thinking the sun rose and set on Kate Eastman, but she’d learned the hard way that Kate was not worthy of her admiration.
Griff apparently didn’t know that yet, since he was crying on the phone. She wondered if she should enlighten him about Kate and Ethan. But it didn’t seem like the right moment.
“What happened to Kate?” Aubrey said. “I can’t understand you, Griff. Calm down, speak slowly.”
Ethan was sitting at the kitchen island, working on a jigsaw puzzle with Viv. He’d been out all night Thursday and didn’t come
home till the wee hours on Friday. He probably still thought she was in the dark, but she’d been keeping tabs on Kate and Ethan for months now. Watching, thinking, dreaming of turning the tables. Ethan had a slight greenish bruise that looked suspiciously like a black eye. What was that all about? Aubrey had pretended not to notice—why give him the satisfaction?—and they’d barely spoken all weekend. He crept around like this wasn’t his house, spending most of his time watching football in the basement, emerging only ten minutes ago when Viv begged him for attention. The second Kate’s name was mentioned, however, Ethan came to life.
“What’s that?” he asked, looking over at her.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. No!” Aubrey said.
Ethan’s face went white. “What is it? What happened?”
She waved at him to shut up.
“How did it happen?” she asked Griff.
“How did what happen?” Ethan cried, and she made him wait while she listened to Griff’s tale in gruesome detail.
“You shouldn’t go through this alone,” Aubrey said into the phone. “No. No, really. I’m coming down there right away. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Okay? You just sit tight, honey.” Aubrey hung up and turned to Ethan. “I have to go to the police station,” she said.
“Jesus, Aubrey. Didn’t you hear me asking what happened?”
“Griff needs moral support.”
“Aubrey, what happened to Kate?” Ethan demanded.
Aubrey glanced meaningfully at Viv. “Little pitchers have big ears. I’ll call you from the road,” she said, though she had no intention of doing that. Let him stew. Like all those nights she sat up wondering when and if he was coming home, and the whole time he was out screwing her best friend. Aubrey had always prided herself on being so smart, and yet she’d let them play her for a fool. Not anymore.
Viv had been following the adults’ conversation closely. “What happened to Aunt Kate, Mommy?” Viv asked.
“She was in an accident, baby. I have to go help Uncle Griff. Hopefully I won’t be late, but if I am, Dad will give you dinner.” Aubrey turned to Ethan. “There’s a pizza in the freezer, and veggies in the crisper to make a salad.”
Ethan stood up. “I’m coming with you.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Somebody needs to stay with the kids. Lilly has an algebra test tomorrow. You need to make sure she studies.”
“I’m a doctor. If there was an accident, I can help.”
“It’s too late for that.”
He went white. “What do you mean, too late?”
“Are you really gonna make me say it in front of her?” Aubrey said, and grabbed her car keys from the basket. She slammed the garage door extra hard as she went out to the car.
Aubrey was sick and tired of making nice with that scumbag cheater piece of shit. All the love she’d ever felt for Ethan was gone. And that was tragic, because she’d loved him a lot once. When they met, she was a grad student in comparative religion, and he was an orthopedics resident at the hospital. He came to a yoga class she taught at the student center, because he was interested in yoga as therapy for joint injury. He ended up asking her to dinner, where Aubrey wowed him with her knowledge of the Vedic spiritual roots of various poses. At the time, Ethan seemed like the answer to her prayers. He was handsome and successful, and she was lonely and broke. Her college friends had moved away, and there was nobody to warn her to put the brakes on with Dr. Heartthrob. She fell for Ethan hard, and the more invested she got, the more he backed off. He probably wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with Logan. But once Logan was born, Ethan seemed really happy—so long as family life didn’t interfere with his work. She quit her PhD program to stay home with their growing family, because Ethan was so busy with his career. Aubrey went from being a Carlisle brainiac to being a doctor’s wife, ignored and taken for granted, and she was still in the process of digging herself out from that.
Aubrey slid behind the wheel of the Volvo and looked up to find Ethan right beside her, holding the driver’s-side door open so she couldn’t leave.
“Please, Aubrey. Tell me what Griff said.”
He looked like somebody had punched him in the stomach. Over Kate! Aubrey had had three difficult childbirths. Lilly almost died of croup when she was eighteen months old. Logan broke half the bones in his body playing sports, and Viv had been hit in the face with a softball and nearly lost the vision in her left eye. Yet Ethan never had this look on his face till tonight. Your girlfriend’s dead, asshole, happy now? People got what they deserved. Aubrey had the money to kick him out months ago, and instead she’d let him live here while she ironed his shirts and cooked his meals. He’d taken advantage of her generosity, but the party was over.
“Griff said he hadn’t heard from Kate since Thursday night. Where was she? Do you know?” Aubrey said.
“Me? Of course not. Why would I?” Ethan said, but she saw a shadow pass across his eyes.
“You seem awfully broken up given that Kate was my friend.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know! I’m upset, Ethan, okay? Let go of the door. I’ll call you when I can.”
Aubrey hit the garage-door opener and pressed the ignition. When Ethan didn’t let go, she put the car in reverse and stepped on the gas, forcing him to jump aside.
The Belle River police station was housed in a historic brick building in the heart of town, but inside it was bare-bones, government-issue ugly, with linoleum floors and harsh fluorescent lighting. Griff sat in the waiting area, bent over with his head in his hands. Aubrey took the seat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder, but still he didn’t look up.
“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m here, Griff. Are you ready to go?”
He raised his head. His eyes were flat and dead-looking, and he smelled like the bottom of a bottle, but Aubrey didn’t care about any of that. She saw him as he’d been two decades earlier, on the dance floor at Spring Fling, their freshman year. It wasn’t long after that trouble at the old railroad bridge, because Kate was recently departed, and Griff was hurting. He’d just heard from a friend in Paris who’d run into Kate in Saint-Germain-des-Prés at two o’clock in the morning, riding on the back of some guy’s motorcycle. Kate had said to tell Griff hi, and he couldn’t stop talking about what that meant. Was Kate thinking about him? Was she sad to be so far away from school? Doesn’t sound like it, Aubrey thought to herself, and, Honey, she dumped you already, you just don’t know it yet. But in Griff’s eyes, he and Kate were on separate continents against their will, torn apart by the vagaries of fate. Aubrey let him talk for as long as he needed to. Griff looked amazing that night, in a cream-colored jacket that set off his tan and his sun-kissed hair. They slow-danced, and he buried his face against Aubrey’s neck. Later, they went back to his room. Yes, comforting Griff had always been sweet. And now she’d have a chance to do some more of it.
“They found Kate’s body down by the river,” he said.
“The river? My God.”
“I didn’t see her in person. They took her to some facility to do an autopsy. They had me look at pictures for the identification.”
“That’s awful. I am so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Aubrey, it didn’t even look like her. Her face was this strange color, like—”
He put his head down and started to cry. Aubrey rubbed his back for a few minutes, then, getting impatient with the hard plastic chair, took his hands in hers. Griff’s hands were freezing cold, so she rubbed them.
“Hey,” she said. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I want to help. Let me take you home, all right? I’m gonna get you a hot shower, a cup of herbal tea, and put you to bed. My car is outside.”
Griff wiped his eyes with his coat sleeve. “There’s no way I could sleep tonight.”
“I understand. But let’s get you out of here anyway. Unless—I’m assuming you’re free to leave?”
“Why wouldn’
t I be?”
“I didn’t mean anything by that. Just wondering if there are any more formalities.”
“No. They wanted to interview me. But I refused to talk to them. After what happened to my dad, I thought I should consult someone first. Do you think that was a mistake?”
“Oh, gosh. I’m not the one to ask about legal stuff.”
A woman with bright-red hair sitting behind the courtesy desk was watching them with a little too much interest.
“Let’s talk about this in the car, Griff,” Aubrey said firmly. “Come on.”
Darkness had fallen early, and with a northern ferocity. The sky was black and full of stars, and the temperature hovered around freezing. Aubrey breathed deep and felt clean, cold air rush into her lungs. Griff, wearing only a T-shirt and jeans, hugged himself and shivered.
“You didn’t bring a coat?” Aubrey said.
“The cops came to the house to tell me that they found her. They said to come downtown so I just walked out. I wasn’t thinking.”
“The heat takes a second to come on,” Aubrey said, once they were in the car.
Griff huddled against the passenger door. Aubrey wanted to be a supportive friend, but now that they were away from prying eyes, she couldn’t hold her tongue.
“What did the police say, Griff? What do they think? Do they think she killed herself?”
“Please.” He raised his hands to his face as if to protect himself from her words.
“No, but really. They must have some explanation. Some theory. They don’t think someone killed her?”
“Aubrey.”
“We were supposed to have dinner Friday night. I think you knew that. Just us girls, for her birthday. But she never showed up. Did you see her that night? Did she say anything that made you think something was wrong?”
“Would you shut up?” he cried, making her flinch.
She would hate for this intimate feeling between them to be spoiled over something stupid like when Griff saw Kate last, or what he knew about her death. After a moment, Aubrey recovered, and patted his knee reassuringly.
It's Always the Husband Page 20
