by Darby Kane
Tobias made a face. “Can we turn the podcast down? It’s distracting . . . and now I want to know about these women.”
“That’s how these podcasts lure you in, but sure.” She reached for the remote control and froze.
And then there’s the case of Aaron Payne. This one is just breaking, and there’s not much information yet. It involves a man, yes, but a respected one. A high school teacher and coach gone missing. It’s unlikely his disappearance is related to that of three college-aged women, but his addition to the growing list of missing individuals raises one very big question: Are our neighborhoods, our roads, and our beautiful parks as safe as we think they are?
Lila tried to say something, but babble filled her brain. She couldn’t think or function. She fell back into her seat on the couch and stayed there.
The podcast. Aaron was on the podcast.
“Lila?”
The announcement could change everything. She sparred with Ginny. She could ignore neighbors and people from school. She already planned to drive out of town to get anything she needed, just to avoid a confrontation. But the fans from this podcast? All those amateur detectives aimed directly at her. That was too much.
Tobias put his hand on her arm. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”
The videos. The fact she knew about them before Aaron disappeared could incriminate her, but they really incriminated Aaron. What the girls said. His voice in the background. Using their bedroom in one of them. Once released they might make it impossible for him to slink back into town.
The front door opened, and Jared’s voice floated through the now-quiet house. “Lila?”
“In here,” Tobias said as he stood up.
Jared stalked into the family room in an uncharacteristic rush. He wore a dark gray suit, but he’d loosened his tie. His wrinkled jacket bunched up on one side. His hair stood straight up, as if he’d been combing his fingers through it. She’d say his state was not quite disheveled, but he came as close as she’d ever seen him.
The ruffled look shook her. “Have you heard something?”
“No.” Jared looked from Lila to Tobias and back again. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
The “no” didn’t convince her. “I called him and asked for help.”
The men shook hands, but Jared’s focus stayed on Lila. “In searching for Aaron?”
“The ultimate goal is to keep the police focused on Aaron and not get sidetracked.” Tobias offered Jared a glass of wine.
Jared shook his head as he sat down across from Lila. “Speaking of that, who is Ryan Horita?”
The name vibrated through her. She called up every ounce of control to hold her expression and keep her body still. Energy pounded through her as she struggled to keep her voice steady. “He’s a client. I sold him a house.”
“Why do you ask?” Tobias asked.
Jared’s gaze wandered over her face. “The investigator asked about him.”
Tobias picked up his glass again. “Okay. I’ll try again, why?”
Jared shrugged. “That’s what I was wondering.”
Lila knew exactly why, and having a possibly alive husband was no longer her biggest problem.
Chapter Twenty-One
Seven Months Earlier
MARCH ON CAYUGA LAKE. THE TEMPERATURE STILL HOVERED in the midforties. The snow had cleared . . . for now. With the sun out and the bright blue sky calling, Lila and Aaron headed out for a hike. Lila insisted it be a short one because even at a brisk pace and with the best gloves on the planet, the chill coming off the water seeped right into her bones.
They stuck to the southern end of the lake. The muddy ground slushed beneath her boots. With most of the leaves gone, she had a good view of Cornell University in the distance. The clock tower loomed. In the fall, the area would be awash in color and the population would almost double in size due to student and tourist traffic.
Bright oranges and reds. She missed living in the South, but nothing compared to those few weeks of fiery colors breaking through a blanket of green and blue.
They moved back from the shoreline now, following a path that led them to a series of boulders stacked at the bottom of a scaling hill. Aaron hit the incline, grabbing on to tree limbs to boost him up.
She wasn’t ready to leave the quiet lapping of the water. She sat down, startled when the coldness from the rock passed right through her jeans to her bare skin.
Aaron looked over his shoulder then stopped walking. “What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, she lifted her head and let the warm sun beat down on her skin for the first time since winter set in last October. “Enjoying the scenery.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I think I’ll join you.” He slid back over the rough terrain and plunked down next to her.
She smiled but kept her eyes closed. “It also helps that I have the car keys.”
“Then I’ll definitely sit with you.” Not really one to stay still for long, he picked up two sticks and rubbed them together.
The breeze whipped around her. She inhaled, letting the fresh air fuel her. Out here in the quiet, while other hikers nodded and walked around them, ideas popped into her mind. Questions she’d never bothered to ask. But life kept racing past them, and with her jacket warming her, lulling her into a false sense of security, she asked a question that had been dancing in her head.
“Do you ever wonder if there’s more?”
“To the lake?” He pointed over to their right. “We’ve driven—”
“No, I mean to us. To life.”
“That’s a pretty heavy question for a Sunday afternoon hike.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. She got it. This was not the sort of topic she usually used to waste time. “I’m serious. Do you ever wonder if we settled?”
She didn’t wonder, she knew. Aaron wasn’t the problem. She was. She’d never felt that anticipation. Sexual attraction, yes. Desire. But not the deep bonding that allowed her to let someone else steer for a while.
She’d become convinced all of that hearts-and-flowers nonsense was illusory. What counted was staying power. Determination. A will to get along. They had that. A shared commitment that arose from upbringings that told them the wrong way to do things.
She glanced over at him, expecting to see anger. Like he sometimes did, though not often, he surprised her. His forehead wrinkled as if he were actually considering the question. “Was I your safety net?”
Sort of, but not really, because she never felt truly safe and calm. “Neither of us demands that much from the other. We fell in together, decided to start dating without ever having a discussion about it. We rolled from one relationship stage to the other and now sort of bump along.”
He shifted until he faced her. One of his hands slipped to her knee. “I married you because from the minute I met you I thought I’d found someone who understood me.”
“That’s actually very lovely.”
“The way you look, how put together and sure you are—it’s all such a departure from how I grew up. My dad believed in the land. He hunted and fished and didn’t trust anyone. Life was about simplicity and strain.” He whistled. “You blew into that deli, and I couldn’t see anything else.”
She put her hand over his knee. Not something she usually did in public, but it felt right. “From what I can tell, your dad was—”
“A complete asshole.” They both laughed at the topic even though it wasn’t funny. “He taught through shame and by wielding his belt. Nothing I ever did was good enough. Jared was the star. The one who listened and learned. I just wanted out.”
He rarely talked about his upbringing. She knew bits and pieces but not specifics. He didn’t share details. “Neither of us had it easy, but I’m happy Jared was there for you.”
“You experienced shock and horror growing up. You understand an adult’s life isn’t about rainbows and romance.”
She smiled at him because they really
were the worst at those sorts of lovey-dovey things. She’d only remembered his birthday last year because Jared called and asked if he could bring over Aaron’s present. Without that call, she would have zipped right over it, and she didn’t think he would have cared. They weren’t celebration people.
“We give each other the stability we missed.” She swallowed as she said the words, both grateful that they never strayed from being on the same page and wistful for what might have been if she were a different person.
“Right.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “We have expectations.”
Something about that word struck her the wrong way. “Are we broken?”
“We’re more like . . . bent.” They both laughed at that, but he kept going. “With you I can be imperfect. I can retreat, and you understand. We both need time by ourselves. Who else would get us?”
“I guess that means we’re stuck with each other.”
Her mind went to her new client and the kick of need that moved through her when he smiled at her last week. She hadn’t felt that sort of longing to get to know someone in, well, almost forever. Heat, interest, need. The unexpected sensations had pumped through her and had her questioning her neat, boxed-up little life with Aaron.
But nothing could happen. That client would want normal. She’d never been normal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Present Day
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON THE NEXT DAY BEFORE THEY TRACKED down Ryan Horita. The Ithaca College professor’s office and home phones went direct to voicemail. Then he had classes and office hours. Now he sat at his desk, across from Ginny and Pete in his cramped, dark office, and frowned. “I’m a little confused about why you’re here.”
Ginny studied the man for a few seconds before answering. Unlike many people, his photos on social media and in the school records matched the live version. Black hair and attractive. Very fit with an open friendliness about him. He looked about thirty but actually was in his midforties.
The rest of the personal stuff she knew—smart, from a family of academics, divorced twice but close enough to both women to still go on vacations together and take photos, active in the local music scene. None of it mattered much except that some of his habits, like attending book signings and open mic nights, made him seem far more outgoing than the woman with whom he’d been spending so much time lately.
Speaking of . . . “We’re here about Lila Ridgefield.”
A small smile came and went on his lips. No other sign of familiarity, but that was good enough to grab Ginny’s attention.
He nodded. “My real estate agent.”
They’d uncovered that piece of information as well. For Ginny, a deeper dive was in order. “Her husband is missing.”
His eyes widened. “Missing?”
That look . . . Ginny wasn’t convinced he sold it. “The disappearance has been all over the news.”
“I must have missed it.”
“He failed to show up to work five days ago. No one has seen him since.” Pete studied the books on the shelves next to him. He stopped scanning long enough to stare at Ryan. “It’s unclear if he’s taken an unexpected trip, if something happened to him on the way to work, or . . .”
Ryan shrugged. “Or what?”
Pete shrugged right back. “We’re not sure.”
“Okay, but what does this have to do with me?” Ryan shifted to the front of his chair with his fingers linked and hands resting on the desk.
Ginny looked for signs of fidgeting or discomfort but couldn’t pick up anything. Ryan handled the conversation in the dispassionate way someone might if they only knew their real estate agent as their real estate agent.
She wasn’t convinced. “How did you pick Lila?”
“She was recommended by another professor.”
“Are the two of you close?” Pete asked.
He frowned. “She sold me a house. One of the new builds on Crescent Way.”
“That’s it?” Pete asked.
“I’ve never met her husband.”
The words fell with a plunk. He offered them fast, and it wasn’t the expected response to anything he’d been asked. To keep him talking, and potentially trip him up again, Ginny shifted to information she knew and didn’t care much about. “When did you buy the house?”
“About four months ago. We had a quick closing because the sellers needed to get into a new school district before the year started.” He rubbed his hands together. “We looked for houses on and off for a few months prior to that.”
“You started working together about seven months ago, according to the brokerage files.” The start date wasn’t Ginny’s main concern, though it did give them a timeline to trace back and see how, and if, Aaron and Lila’s marriage changed since then.
“The timing fits. That’s probably right.”
Pete made a strangled sound. “It took you that long to find a house?”
“Is that a lot of time?” Ryan’s gaze switched from Pete to Ginny. “I didn’t want to jump on the first one. I only plan to move once, so I wanted to get it right.”
She didn’t answer.
Pete made another noise but didn’t actually say anything.
“The home office mattered to me,” Ryan continued. “The whole mix of right size, right price, and office tripped us up for some time. She kept looking, and I kept calling.”
Ginny swallowed a smile. Silence and a lack of reaction almost always got people to continue talking. They chattered away to fill the quiet, convinced the silence was more damning. That assumption was almost always wrong.
Ryan leaned in closer. “I still don’t get why you’re here. Lila must have a lot of clients—”
“The two of you met for coffee.” Not news by itself, but there was more.
Ryan hesitated before responding. “Sure. To go over listings.”
“And you met for lunch,” Pete added. “Several times.”
“Maybe a few times.” The tempo of Ryan’s hand rubbing increased. “Honestly, I was probably a pretty needy client.”
“We’re talking about the lunches and coffee dates during the last two months.” Those were the ones Ginny cared about. The ones people at the deli and coffee cart near Stewart Park noticed. All the phone calls. What looked like constant contact even after the business ended. “Which, according to you and your property records, was months after you bought your house.”
Ryan didn’t blink, but his hands had stopped moving. He sat there, watching his interrogators with his gaze skipping between them.
Maybe she needed to reassess her thoughts about witness blathering, because this silence proved pretty damning. The charming, otherwise accessible professor appeared to be at a loss for words.
“You got really quiet,” she pointed out.
“Water issues.”
She hadn’t expected the blurt. From the what the hell? look on Pete’s face, he hadn’t either.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“The house had water damage not found in the inspection.” As soon as Ryan started talking, his cadence went right back to what it had been before—smooth and consistent. Not a hint of floundering. “Lila has been working with me to get reimbursed without having to sue the inspector or the previous owner for nondisclosure.”
As comebacks went, this was a good one. Ginny had to admit he sold the lines. If he could prove them was another question. “And you can verify this?”
“She can. She has all the paperwork. I was too angry to deal with the couple myself.” He leaned back in his chair, fully in control and smiling now. “I wanted move-in-ready, and, instead, my house is under construction.”
“You’re saying you don’t have a relationship with Lila?” Pete asked.
The delivery made Ginny wince. Too amateur to get the right reaction.
Ryan nodded. “I do. I just told you. She’s been working on my behalf.”
“Are you sleeping together?”
Ryan’s smile wid
ened. “That’s an odd question. No.”
Direct hits like that wouldn’t work. Ryan was too smart to step in shit. He needed to be led around it then fall in. Ginny tried to steer them in that direction. “You teach sociology?”
Obvious, maybe, since they were in the sociology department, but getting him to talk about his work might trigger something. She knew from her husband that Ryan was considered a bit of a folk hero on campus. Roland didn’t know him, but he knew of him. Said Ryan taught one of the must-take classes on campus.
“Yes. I analyze crimes, some unsolved cold cases. The goal is to break down preconceived notions of—”
“You also write true crime.” Pete nodded toward the bookshelves. “Your name is on a few of these.”
“I teach about crime and write about it, yes.”
For some reason Ryan found that distinction important, and Ginny wanted to know if it was a case of professorial snobbery or something else. “What classes do you teach?”
“The most popular one is The Sociology of Violence.”
There it was. Ginny felt the heat of Pete’s stare and ignored it.
“I’m guessing you’re well aware of my teaching and research background.” Ryan leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, calm as could be. “Are you looking for assistance on this case?”
A memory hit her. She’d seen him on television, offering bits of wisdom about Karen Blue. “Do you consider yourself an expert on crime?”
“Not on committing it, no. But analyzing motivations and backgrounds, looking for patterns. Yes.”
He probably thought that was funny. Ginny didn’t. “Did you talk with Lila about your work?”
“In passing.” He flicked a hand in the air as if to say no big deal.
“What does that mean?” Pete asked.
This time Ryan concentrated instead of answering right away, picking a piece of nearly nonexistent lint off his dress pants. “Small talk.”
The big show didn’t impress Ginny. “You engaged in small talk about violence during your real estate lunches?”
Ryan lifted his head and stared at her. “We all have our interests.”
