The Shadow Box(38)
“In front of the kids?” Conor asked.
“No. As usual she had her meltdowns in our bedroom. But they heard, especially Gwen. She knows everything that goes on between us. She gets stomachaches over it, worries we’re going to get divorced. But that didn’t stop Sallie from deciding to ruin a nice family weekend away.”
Jen and Conor let his words hang in the air. He was exhibiting anger instead of grief, striking for a man whose wife had just died.
“Did something physical take place between you two?” Jen asked.
Both Conor and Jen watched his face carefully. He squinted and scratched the bandage on his forehead. It slipped slightly, and Conor saw an incision closed with stitches. Conor knew that Sallie’s body was too badly burned for the medical examiner to find signs of assault.
“No!” Benson said. “What do you think I am?”
“We have to ask,” Jen said.
“Mr. Benson, do you know Claire Beaudry Chase?” Conor asked.
“Griffin’s wife? No.”
“But you know Griffin?” Conor already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear what Benson had to say.
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Family friends from way back. And we’re in the same club.”
“What club’s that?”
“Last Monday. But I don’t go anymore. It’s just a bunch of guys drinking scotch and talking about how to get Griffin into the governor’s mansion.”
“You don’t think he should be governor?” Conor asked.
Benson snorted. “When you know someone since you were kids and you think of all the stupid shit they did, you have a hard time imagining them leading the state. I used to joke with Sallie about it.” He paused, as if he’d just heard what he’d said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Griffin is all right. A little in love with himself, some people would say.”
“What kind of stupid kid shit are we talking about?” Jen asked.
Benson tried to laugh again, but now it sounded nervous. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Dumb stuff. Like playing pranks, sneaking parents’ booze, skipping school. Nothing bad. I’ll vote for him.”
Conor heard the edge in Benson’s voice. There was emotion there, behind the seemingly lighthearted words. Resentment but also fear.
“Do you know his kids? Alexander and Ford?” Conor watched for Benson to react to the names. Was that a slight flinch?
“Not well.”
“But you do know them?”
“From around town, seeing them at the boatyard, stuff like that.”
“Okay. Now, Sallie did some work for the Chase family. Fixed up a kitchen for them, wasn’t it?” Conor asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. She did. But I stay out of her business.”
“Did she ever say anything about the Chases?” Conor asked.
“No. I figured he was probably a prick to work for, but she never said.”
“When will you be able to go home?” Jen asked.
“They’re discharging me today,” he said.
“That seems soon,” Jen said. “Considering what you’ve been through.”
“I’m going stir-crazy in here,” he said. “And I have to make plans to bury my wife.”
Conor and Jen thanked him for his time, expressed their sympathy again, and left the room.
“What do you think?” Conor asked.
“A lot of anger at Sallie,” Jen said. “He didn’t even try to hide it.”
“Right. He wasn’t playing the grieving husband. And he’s got some kind of issue with Chase,” Conor said. “Enough that it made him stop going to the rich-boy secret society.”
“Enough that he’d do something to Claire?” Jen asked.
Conor mentally ran through the Friday morning timeline; Chase had said he last saw Claire after breakfast on Friday, around seven forty-five. Benson had gone to the boat at about nine. What if he had encountered Claire, had some sort of altercation?
“Why’s he in such a hurry to get out of the hospital?” Conor asked. “So he can get home and clean up evidence?”
“Search warrant,” Jen said. “Coming right up. I need an iced latte. Think they have them in the hospital dining room?”
“Give it a go,” Conor said. “I’m heading out. Catch you later.”
They said goodbye, and Conor decided to return to the Chases’ house on Catamount Bluff, walk through the scene of Claire’s disappearance again. And if only to clarify what Sallie might have meant by the word Ford in her note, Conor was going to find Ford Chase and ask him some questions.
TWO DAYS EARLIER
22
CLAIRE
Some of my favorite moments in the studio were when Sloane Hawke came over. It was late afternoon, and in honor of the fact summer would unofficially start that weekend, we opened a bottle of rosé. I had delivered most of my exhibition pieces the day before, so the studio was nearly bare. Only one shadow box destined for the show was left. I still hadn’t had the chance to show Fingerbone to Griffin.
It was a warm, sunny day. The forecast for Memorial Day weekend was looking great, and Sloane was excited about the annual party she and Edward always gave. She was trying out a new caterer this year—instead of the lobster boil and clambake they’d had the last few years, they’d be serving Texas-style barbecue.