My Wife Is Missing(56)

“I’m fine,” said Natalie, briskly, thinking she’d failed to muster much conviction.

“Yeah?” Michael stepped back to appraise her from a different angle before setting the back of his hand against her forehead. “You feel clammy. You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, just tired is all. I had to run out to the store because I didn’t have anything for the kids’ lunches, so I asked Scarlett to come back over, keep an eye on things. Maybe it was too much after a long day.”

Scarlett. She had to mention the nanny in case the kids mentioned her to Michael.

“Scarlett again?” A note of doubt came to Michael’s voice. “That’s odd. You haven’t done that before. We usually make do with what’s here.”

A single thought burrowed into her head with the velocity of a gunshot.

He can’t suspect me.

“Anyway, I’m not surprised you’re tired,” Michael said. “Comes with the territory when you don’t sleep. This has got to be driving you crazy.”

He tried pulling Natalie into an embrace, but she held her ground, locking her legs, her body stiffening in an involuntary response.

“Hey,” Michael complained, pulling her harder. “It’s me, babe. Relax.”

His words cut through her. In response, Natalie let herself sink into him, albeit reluctantly and only for a second. She forgot herself and wondered what her lack of sleep might be doing to her.

Michael pressed his warm lips against the top of Natalie’s head, taking a deep inhale. He let out a soft moan as he pulled her against him, tightening his hold. Natalie felt him stir at the same instant that pungent smell of blood tickled her nose. Maybe it was a trick of the mind, or more likely he wore Audrey’s death like cheap cologne.

“The kids are asleep, the house is quiet,” Michael whispered. “Why don’t we go upstairs and let me give you a massage.”

He rolled his tongue along the outer edge of Nat’s ear in a gesture he knew from years of lovemaking would get her fired up. Instead of a soft moan like she might have let out in the past, her body went rigid before she pulled away.

“Hey,” Michael said, looking and sounding hurt. “What’s going on with you?”

“I can’t,” Natalie said. “I just can’t.”

She was looking him over from head to toe for any defensive wounds. Scratches. Red marks. Blood on his fingernails. He’d done a thorough job cleaning himself up, and poor Audrey probably never even had a chance to fight back. Sweat beaded on her brow.

Again, that thought: he can’t know I know.

“Nat,” said Michael, his voice holding growing frustration. “We are husband and wife.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need the reminder,” said Natalie.

“And I don’t want to have a sexless marriage,” Michael retorted. “It’s not what I signed up for.”

Natalie turned her back to her husband, keeping her arms folded across her chest. Michael stepped forward. He wrapped himself around her from behind like a blanket.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, rocking her in his arms as he breathed his apology into her ear. “I don’t know what I can do to make you trust me. Is this about Audrey Adler again?”

Natalie’s body tightened at the mention of her name. She thought it a good thing that Michael couldn’t see the terror brimming in her eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t know that woman?”

Natalie resisted the urge to scoff. She wanted to go to her car, get his T-shirt and gym locker key, throw that bag in his face, and ask him to explain it away, but prudence won out.

She didn’t know how well Michael had cleaned his tracks, and she needed time to think through all the possibilities before risking any suspicion being cast on her. Her mind raced ahead. If Michael learned she had been to Audrey’s condo, taken his shirt and locker key, he could turn it around and paint her as the jealous wife who suffered from insomnia and lost control. She played out the scenario. Michael would call the police from the house, looking her straight in the eyes.

“My wife hasn’t been well,” she imagined him saying to the dispatcher in a dispassionate voice. “She’s accused me of having an affair and now I think she may have done something quite horrible … Audrey Adler, yes that’s the name. I believe she lives on Magoun Avenue. You should do a welfare check on Ms. Adler. I’m honestly worried.”

He’d end his call with a cagey look on his face. Later on, evidence would surface that Audrey had filed a stalking complaint with HR against Natalie. That’s all it would take for the police to hit her with a murder rap.

Natalie imagined her kids crying as she was being led away in handcuffs, the trial, the guilty verdict, Michael in the courtroom looking crushed as she was being escorted to her prison cell. Go to the police with the key and shirt and risk becoming a suspect, proof she’d been in the apartment on the night of the murder, keep them hidden and Michael could turn the tables on her. Dammed if she did, dammed if she didn’t. Rock meet hard place.

“I’m going to sleep in Addie’s room on the trundle,” Natalie said with ice in her voice.

“Nat, babe.”

Michael adopted a pleading tone as he took hold of her arm, too forcefully. She pulled free from his grasp.