Pretty Little Wife(33)

It sounded like they’d reached the end of his tolerance for talking about his brother’s marriage. Ginny didn’t see an opportunity for breaking through on that point, so she circled and tried a different tack. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt your brother?”

“He’s a teacher. It’s pretty safe stuff.”

Pete snorted. “Have you been to a school lately?”

“Good point.” Jared’s mood lightened a bit. “Some of his stories were wild, but none of them were about safety or threats. They were more like you’ll never believe what this kid said today stuff.”

That matched what the other teachers said. “Other than Brent, does your brother have a lot of friends?”

“Some. Mostly through school and coaching. I can give you a list.”

“What about Lila?”

Jared’s mood slammed closed again. He became almost guarded, as if he knew he needed to weigh each word to protect her. “She has some anxiety issues, so she sticks close to home except when she’s working.”

“What about . . .” Ginny made a show of leaning over and looking at the file in front of Pete, even though there was nothing spur-of-the-moment in the question she was about to ask. “Ryan?”

Jared’s expression went blank. “Who?”

“Ryan Horita.”

He looked at the table and the file. Even spun his mug around in between his palms once before answering. “Who’s that?”

“Someone close to Lila.” She chose every word for a reason.

Jared shook his head. “That’s not possible. I’ve never heard of him.”

That’s exactly what Ginny wanted to hear.





Chapter Twenty


Welcome back. This is Nia Simms and Gone Missing, the true crime podcast that discusses cases—big and small—in your neighborhood and around the country. Even before we started focusing on Karen Blue, every week I hoped to come on here with the good news that she’s been found or, at least, that there has been a break in the case. She’s officially been missing nine weeks, and the news remains bleak. Karen’s ex, the one who allegedly shoved her into a wall and claims to have been out with friends the night Karen disappeared, still looks like the lead suspect . . .

“Listening to that sort of thing is not going to lessen your anxiety.” Tobias made the assessment while sprawled on Lila’s sectional sofa, scanning through the emails on his phone.

She slipped back into the family room with a bottle of water for her and a glass of red wine for him. She handed the crystal she almost never used to him. At home, away from prying eyes, she was the wine-in-a-mug type—no need for anything fancy—but Tobias strenuously disagreed.

“The podcast works as background noise.”

He stared at her over the rim of the glass. “It’s a true crime podcast. About death and murder.”

“Nia, the person who runs this one, said Karen’s disappearance was fading from the news. Nia is semilocal and so is the missing woman, so now the where is she? talk is nonstop.” She shot her workaholic friend a smile. “Honestly, true crime podcasts are all the rage right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” He took a sip of wine then set the glass down on the stack of magazines on the table in front of him. “We have podcasts in North Carolina, too.”

They were casual and comfortable together. Nothing had changed on that score despite her move to New York. Their friendship had started back in law school. They’d launched their careers in different ways. Hers in a boutique criminal defense firm. His in the prosecutor’s office. It didn’t take long for their interests to merge again and the need to be their own bosses to take over.

They’d been colleagues and friends, and now she would be the client. She didn’t like the change.

He shifted his leg until his knee touched hers. “You okay?”

“Haven’t you heard? My husband is missing.”

“I’m going to ignore how flippant that sounded and ask you lawyer questions now.”

She ignored the fine tremble in her fingers and focused on the opportunity to practice. “Fire away.”

“Where were you when he disappeared?”

The real answer—planting video evidence in his car showing the sick bastard liked young girls—seemed wrong, so she evaded. “Where do you think I was in the morning?”

“Asleep and without an alibi.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Thanks for that.”

“Anytime.”

“Did you guys fight?”

She fiddled with the top on the water bottle. “I think all couples fight.”

“Do not tell an engaged man that.” He held out a hand. “Here, let me try.”

He opened the top and handed the bottle back to her. He was smart enough not to call her weak. She was horrified that she couldn’t get her body to work with her. Waves of anxiety crashed over her, pressing her down, making her doubt every sentence and every thought. She wanted to get in the car and drive away. To mimic what some thought Aaron had done to get out of a loveless marriage.

She’d heard the whispers. They would only grow louder and angrier. Those who knew about Aaron’s disappearance pointed. Once the news went out wider, her life would turn to shit. Every time she’d ever put her head down in the grocery store rather than say hello to someone would be brought up, twisted, and dissected.