My Wife Is Missing(75)
Kate got up from her chair to give her friend a comforting embrace. “Now, I need to check with Chuck, because this is complicated and potentially dangerous, but that man always thirsts for a bit of excitement. I suspect he’ll be quite agreeable and you’ll be welcome to stay here, long as you need. Chuck and I love each other, but honestly we’ve run out of things to talk about.” She capped her quip with a grin to make certain her joke was understood.
“I just need somewhere to be until I get the process going. And honestly I’m hoping that the police will do their jobs and arrest him first.”
“Okay, like I said, I’m here to help.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
There was more to the story, much more, but Natalie didn’t share it. Only so much a person could take in at once, she reasoned. At some point, she’d tell Kate the whole truth.
Audrey Adler hadn’t been Michael’s first victim.
CHAPTER 32
MICHAEL
They had arrived too late to do much looking, so Michael and Kennett crashed at a Renaissance hotel in downtown Toledo for the night. The accommodations didn’t quite fit Kennett’s budget, so Michael paid both room charges.
In the morning, they drove the city streets, checking as many hotel parking lots as they could, looking for Natalie’s rental car, and coming up empty. They paid visits to all four police departments—Erie Street, North Cove Boulevard, Nebraska Avenue, and even the department at the University of Toledo. At each stop, they got plenty of assurance that the officers would keep an eye out for the vehicle and its occupants, which engendered no great feelings of hope in Michael.
“Do you think she’s even here?” he asked Kennett as they headed back to the car after stopping at a Wendy’s for chicken sandwiches and fries—road food.
Kennett returned a shrug.
“I’m a cop, Mike,” he said. “Not a genie. Gumshoe and persistence, those are the tools of my trade.”
After several more hours of fruitless searching, they had to stop for gas before heading for the hotel to rest and recharge, plan their next moves. Michael heard Kennett’s phone chirp while he was filling up. Kennett leaned his head out the open window.
“They found her car,” he announced.
Michael perked up. “Where?”
He could feel the heat coming off him as his heart revved up.
“It’s back in Columbus,” Kennett said with no joy in his voice. He held out his phone, which Michael grabbed like a relay baton. He read the text even as Kennett was telling him what it said. “Security at the hospital found her rental parked in the visitors’ lot and reported it to the police, who then reported it to me.”
The look on Kennett’s face was equal parts frustration and reverence.
“She misled us,” Michael said, his voice falling. “She must have told the doctor her plans, her lie, thinking we might track her to the hospital. Dammit.”
Kennett left the car. He came over to Michael and patted him on the shoulder.
“Hey, don’t worry, Mike. Gumshoe and persistence, remember?”
“But we don’t even know where to look now,” Michael bemoaned. “She could be anywhere.”
He slammed the gas nozzle back into the pump, cursing under his breath. Kennett’s patience and optimism weren’t rubbing off on him. The car had the odor of a dorm room. They both needed a shower, and Michael was thinking about a stiff drink to follow. Heavy traffic made the drive back to the Renaissance a slow one. Michael filled the silence with his own thoughts and regrets.
The affair was one thing. It was an awful thing, a terrible choice he couldn’t unmake. The moment he set his lips to those of another woman, undid the zipper of her dress, slipped his hand down her waist, he had stepped into a new realm, a bizarre landscape that held him prisoner. A voice in his head trumpeted plenty of warnings, told him to step back from the edge, but there was that devil on his shoulder, goading him on.
You’re a person with feelings too, Michael, said the devil. You have needs that should be met. You’ve tried with Natalie, tried so hard, but you are two ships passing in the night.
Michael wasn’t ignorant. He knew all that chatter was nothing but fancy excuses.
People are fallible, Michael was thinking as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.
Kennett keyed in on his nervous habit. “What’s on your mind, Mike? You seem troubled,” he said. He downed a sip of water from a plastic bottle, swished it around like mouthwash.
“Just thinking, is all,” Michael replied, as he changed lanes.
“Thinking. Sounds dangerous.”
“I’m thinking you’re breaking a lot of rules helping me on this search,” said Michael.
“Perhaps.”
Michael chuckled softly.
“Do cops always break the rules?” he asked.
“Do husbands always lie to their wives?”
Michael flinched.
“Why’d you say that?”
Kennett smiled back languidly.
“Come on, Mike. Your wife takes off on you like that. She had to have a reason. I’ve spent a good amount of time with you now. I don’t think you were beating her. Don’t see you abusing drugs and booze. Haven’t seen you obsessively checking lines on your sports betting app, so I’m willing to forgo a gambling problem. Why not come clean with me? You cheat on her? She find out and get kinda teed off?” Kennett grimaced in a way that was both sincere and a bit mocking at the same time. Michael tried to hide his reaction but evidently didn’t do a great job of it.