The New Husband(58)
Nina grabbed an empty booth under a stuffed bison head, while Teresa headed to the bar to get them two Diet Cokes.
“Can’t drink on the job,” Teresa said, handing Nina a tall, ice-filled glass.
“And I can’t drink and drive,” said Nina.
“Well, this is weird, huh?” Teresa’s opener elicited nervous laughter from Nina, but nothing else in response.
“The police were looking for you,” Nina said. “You were on the local news as a person of interest in my husband’s disappearance.”
“Me?” Teresa put her hand to her chest. “Why? Do they think I killed him?” Teresa took note of Nina’s pained expression. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I just—Glen was a regular, we were friends, but I swear to you, I swear, I had absolutely nothing to do with his disappearance. I was long gone before he vanished. What’s it been? Almost two years? Do you think he killed himself?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Nina answered sorrowfully. “They can’t find his body. Maybe he faked his death to run away, start all over without the messiness of a divorce. I really don’t know. The pictures. Who would have sent them to me? Why would someone say you two were in love if it was just a one-night thing?”
The revelation that Glen might not have had an affair—Nina still wasn’t sure what to believe there—was surprisingly liberating. Sex was one thing, but an emotional attachment was a betrayal of a very different sort.
“I bet you anything it was Chris.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah, my crazy ex. A real stalker type. He couldn’t accept it was over between us. That’s the reason I left town. Had to get away from him. Didn’t leave any forwarding information; not even my best friends knew how to find me. That guy was going to kill me, I swear. It had to be Chris who took the pictures and sent them to you.”
“Why would he?”
“My guess—from what you told me—to get the police involved so they’d launch a search to try and find me.”
“From what I understand, the police didn’t really go all out to find you,” said Nina. “So it wasn’t much of a search.”
“Shouldn’t have been.” Teresa sounded mildly offended. “Like I told you, I’d left a month before he went missing. Why would the cops waste their time tracking me down? I’m guessing Chris saw the news report about Glen, recognized him from that creepy stalkerish photo he took, and figured you’d tell the cops about me. That way he could get a little petty revenge on the guy I slept with and get the police to go searching for me at the same time. God, he’s such an asshole.”
“How long have you been back?”
“A few months,” Teresa said. “My mom’s got COPD, so I came back to care for her. Don’t smoke. Don’t start.”
“Don’t intend to,” said Nina. “What about Chris? Aren’t you still afraid of him?”
“Not anymore. He’s in prison in Concord,” Teresa said. “Beat up his last girlfriend, surprise, surprise, so I have at least five years, maybe more, without having to worry about him.”
Teresa reached across the table and patted Nina’s hand. “Okay, talk to me, sweetie. I can’t sit on my ass for long. Much as I’d like to, the boss frowns on that sort of thing. What else do you want to know?”
Nina’s question came free-falling from her lips like the Tom Petty song now playing on the juke.
“What about that night with Glen? Can you tell me anything about it?” Nina felt her cheeks go hot. “Not the details, I mean, just, you know, how it happened.”
Teresa gave another throaty laugh as she tossed her head back.
“Like I remember!” She grimaced with embarrassment. “Sorry, that sounds really, really cold. But it was a long time ago and we were all pretty far gone.”
“All?” Nina got the sense someone else was involved.
“Yeah, it was me, Glen, and this other dude at the bar tossing them back. I knew Glen because, well, he came here a lot. Had the ring, though.” Teresa pointed to her finger. “So I kept my distance. I was good like that—well, normally, I mean.
“Anyway, we would talk about fishing, or sports, or the bar. He was great at helping me with this crazy place.” Teresa gestured behind her, as if Glen might be there, dealing with some personnel problem. “You wouldn’t think it gets political here, but believe me, there’s all sorts of shit going on behind the scenes, and Glen was really good at understanding people, figuring out what to say, how to smooth things over.”
“He was a financial advisor at a bank,” Nina told her. “He understood people as well as he did numbers. It was a skill he prided himself on.”
Teresa had people skills of her own, and took hold of Nina’s hand as if sensing her growing distress.
Nina had imagined this moment for so long, what she’d say, how she’d say it. She had rehearsed it like a play—coming in all hell on wheels. “You give me some answers!” she had shouted in her mind. But this moment was nothing like her fantasy. She had no anger at all. Teresa might drink too much, smoke too much, definitely partied too much, but all of that was a big “whatever,” because something about her, the ease of her being, the relaxed way she spoke, how she called her sweetie, and touched her hand, made Nina like this woman immensely.