Every Last Secret(59)

The woman nodded slowly, considering the idea. “So, you think your husband made the entire thing up?”

“He takes sleeping pills at night.” I shrugged, encouraged by her open reaction. “Maybe he thought it happened and it didn’t.”

“On the 9-1-1 call, you said there was an intruder.” Her voice was hardening, incredulity beginning to coat the syllables.

“It was dark in the bedroom. I woke up to him yelling at me to call 9-1-1. I was half-asleep during that call. But we have no security footage, no footprints, and Matt’s given you a hazy description that could fit anyone from Pee-wee Herman to Arnold Schwarzenegger.” I stood from the seat, my voice rising in vigor. “You could be looking for someone that isn’t out there. Wouldn’t you rather go home? And besides—are you even allowed to be looking through all of our things? Don’t you need a warrant for that?”

“Neena.”

I stiffened at the flat sound of Matt’s voice and turned to see him standing just inside the back door, his features eerily still, his eyes dead. “May I speak to you for a moment?”





CHAPTER 40

CAT

I stood on the upper balcony and watched as the cars clogged the Ryders’ long lot, black-and-whites with the official seal of Atherton, their lights on, sirens silent. In the dark, black figures with sweeping white beams of illumination moved, their progress partially hidden by shrubbery and trees, their canvass slow and methodical.

“What’s going on?” William stepped out of our bedroom, his chest bare, his silk pajama bottoms on. He shivered in the cool night air and crossed his arms over his chest, his attention immediately caught by the activity next door.

“I don’t know. There’s an ambulance, but they haven’t put anyone in it. I tried to call Neena and Matt, but they didn’t answer. I’m waiting on a call back from the chief.”

As if beckoned, my phone lit up, the Atherton chief of police’s private cell number displayed. I answered the call and put it on speakerphone so William could hear. “Hey, Danika.”

“It was a home invasion,” she said without preamble. “Or armed robbery gone wrong. We aren’t sure yet. Someone in a ski mask came in the home and attempted to shoot the husband.”

I inhaled sharply. “Is he okay? And Neena—”

“No one was harmed. The gun misfired, and the husband chased or scared the man out of the house. But we haven’t located the intruder yet. So it’s important that you stay inside and lock all your doors. We have officers headed to your house now, but please arm your security system, if it’s not already.”

William pulled on my arm, glancing around as he ushered me inside. Shutting the french doors, he flipped the locks.

“I’ll go open the front gates so the cops can get in.” He gave me a stern look as he pulled on a worn Stanford T-shirt. “Stay here.”

I waved him on and moved to the window, parting the curtain and scanning my eyes over the dark stretch of lawn. When the bedroom door clicked shut behind William, I took the phone off speaker and lowered my voice. “Danika, there are some things about the Ryders your detectives should know.”



By the time I pulled on clothes and made it downstairs, an officer was present. I rounded the bottom of the staircase, and the man nodded at me. “Good evening, Mrs. Winthorpe.”

I smiled in greeting but didn’t recognize him. We sponsored the department’s annual Christmas party, along with the Care Fund—generous donations that granted us a special decal to put on our license tag, our names at the top of every donation list, and an open invitation to the station. Every uniform in town knew our name, our vehicles, and would look the other way if they spotted us, tipsy and sluggish, stepping into our car. But while they all knew us, I could only recognize a handful of them. Chief McIntyre, of course. A few of the captains and inspectors. Tim, the main patrol on our side of the city.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Are Matt and Neena all right?”

“They’re both fine,” he said. “But we haven’t located the intruder and wanted to see if you’d seen or heard anything.”

I stepped past him and out onto the front porch, my bare feet curling against the polished wood. Craning my neck, I tried to get a better look at the activity, but the fence blocked the view.

“Cat,” William protested. “Please come in. It’s not safe out there.”

The detective cleared his throat. “Have you seen anyone on your property this evening? Heard anything? Has anything out of the ordinary happened?”

I turned back to him. “No. It’s been a quiet night. I heard their garage door open about twenty minutes ago. It woke me up. But nothing else.”

He glanced up at our porch eaves. “You got a security system?”

“Yes.” William waved him toward the kitchen. “I’ll show you.”

The officer nodded and pulled off his hat, his black hair fringed in gray. “Thank you.”

Following the men inside, I pulled the front door closed and locked it. In the kitchen, I started a pot of coffee as William pulled up the security app, the content accessible from his phone. “The cameras are both interior and exterior and triggered by motion or the window and door sensors. We turn the interior motion sensors off if either of us comes down in the middle of the night. That’s why you aren’t seeing them now.”