Pretty Little Wife(11)
He leaned against the sink with his hands balanced on the counter on either side of him. “You are so hard to love.”
The shot bounced off her.
As if he knew what the word even meant. As if she cared if he got enough pampering and cuddling. He’d screwed up this pathetic excuse of a marriage, not her.
“So you’ve said.” She hit him with an eye roll because she knew the gesture battered his control. If he wanted to fight, then they should really fight. Scream and accuse. Dump all their personal garbage right on the floor and sort through it with a chain saw.
“Don’t do that. Fight back without the passive-aggressive bullshit. Show me you care at least a little.”
His anger bubbled and churned right below the surface. Another push or two should do it. “My personality hasn’t changed from the day we met. I’m not the problem in this marriage, darling.”
“How many times do I have to apologize for what happened?”
“Try doing it once. Just one lousy time.” The asshole got caught and lied. Insisted the videos on his phone from his damn students—intimate videos—meant nothing when they really could ruin him. She was saving him, but he conveniently ignored that fact, which was smart because she didn’t plan on doing it for much longer. “You’ve never taken one ounce of responsibility for your shitty choices.”
His mouth thinned, and a tiny muscle in his cheek twitched. He watched her, looking ready to spring, then took a sharp turn away and stared out the window above the sink, out into the darkness. “We had this fight weeks ago. I told you it was a prank gone wrong. I’m not reliving this nonsense again. Let it go.”
“Wait, was that your apology?”
“You’re blameless, I suppose. You kicked me out of our bed. You barely speak to me. Have you left the damn house in three weeks? Because to me it looks like you’re sulking rather than trying to put this marriage back together.”
She would not let him spin this back on her. He was lucky she let him in the house at all. “Still waiting for that apology.”
He turned and faced her again, breathing heavy and grabbing the counter in a white-knuckled grip as if he could no longer hold the icy edge of dislike from spilling out. “Over something minor? Something a bunch of stupid kids did? Not going to happen.”
She pressed her hand against her chest in mock surprise. “Right. How dare I suggest you’ve ever done anything wrong in your life. Silly me. It’s always the rest of us who are wrong.”
“Tell me your theory about the video.” His mouth twisted in a hateful scowl. “Say. It.”
Videos. Plural. “You’re a pitiful excuse for a man.”
He snorted. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a man.”
Every word he uttered breathed more life into her hatred. Gave it legs and a beating heart. Fueled it until it sucked all of the air out of the room. “I’m not the one who messed up.”
“I didn’t either.”
He was delusional. “How can you say that?”
He shook his head as he left the room. “Fuck you, Lila.”
Chapter Six
Present Day
This is Nia Simms and Gone Missing, the true crime podcast that discusses cases—big and small—in your neighborhood and around the country. While we usually delve into cold cases, pick apart the clues, and talk about other possibilities, and we will get back to that, we’re switching gears today. Just like last week, we’re focusing on the case everyone is talking about.
We usually don’t jump in and review an active case for fear of getting in the way, but this one is happening right in our backyard, and it’s possible one of our listeners saw or heard something that might be helpful.
We’re talking, of course, about Karen Blue, the SUNY Cortland sophomore. Campus video shows she got in her car about eight weeks ago and left school to visit her parents for their anniversary weekend, and was never seen again.
We know this case is all over the news. This is a multiagency investigation. There’s a task force. Local and state police are on it. The sheriff’s office weighed in, and now the FBI is stepping in. That’s a lot of resources with no resolution.
We’ve all seen the grainy video of Karen putting a bag in her trunk before getting in and driving away. That was sixty-one days ago. Since then? Not a word from Karen. Law enforcement have ruled out the idea of her voluntarily leaving or hurting herself. This is a case of foul play.
Her parents are frantic. The police have searched her boyfriend’s house twice. One of Karen’s friends gave an interview talking about the boyfriend’s temper. This was looking like a relationship turned violent. A horrible but not unheard-of story. But notice I said “was” . . .
Let’s think about this case another way. What if Karen wasn’t the first woman to go missing in the area without any explanation over the last few years? We’ve spent weeks looking into this question and believe something bigger, more malicious, might be happening in this part of New York. We actually have a trio of missing women, and we’re going to talk about the one question the police have refused to answer: What if the disappearances are related . . .
“Lila?”
She hit pause on her tablet. The voice cut off midsentence through the all-house speakers as her brother-in-law shut the front door and walked down the hall toward her.