My Wife Is Missing(78)

His explanation seemed reasonable. Perhaps he was telling the truth—or perhaps he had this story at the ready to shore up his deception.

“Okay, well, maybe you can bring it home. We should really keep all the important documents together.”

Natalie followed up her suggestion with a tight smile.

“Sure,” Michael said. “And I’ll happily take care of the passport renewals for you. You do enough around here. But you don’t need our birth certificates for that. Figured you’d know that.”

Helpful or evasive? Natalie had her suspicions.

“Guess I forgot,” she said. “You know … maybe instead of going abroad, if that’s what we end up doing, we could take the kids to South Carolina, to Charleston this summer. Let them see where you grew up. I’d like to go. You’ve never taken me.”

Michael’s mouth formed something of a frown.

“Charleston has bad memories for me,” he said with an edge. “I lost my mom and dad there, and high school wasn’t exactly my happiest time. I couldn’t get far enough away from that place. You know that. And yet, here you are, asking to go to Charleston, of all places. What are you after? My birth certificate, my hometown, all these papers—why don’t you tell me what you’re really up to?”

Michael gestured to the mess. His voice carried harsh notes of accusation. Reflexively, Natalie stepped back from him as he approached. Audrey’s lifeless form flashed in and out of her mind.

“What’s this all about?” he said, his voice rising.

She observed how he stood, arms akimbo, hands latched to his hips, eyes narrowed. Lack of sleep made it hard to trust her judgment. How far could she press him before he snapped? Natalie felt compelled to pull back.

“I told you what I’m doing,” she said, rubbing her hands against her pants to wick away the moisture that had collected on her palms. “And thanks for taking care of the passports when you can.”

She closed the lid on the safe and turned the key, then shifted her gaze to the floor so that Michael couldn’t read her eyes. He came over to the desk anyway, where he pressed his palms against the paper-covered surface.

Michael reached a hand out and set it gently on her shoulder, holding her back. His touch was tender and loving. What happened to the menace she’d felt radiating off him moments ago?

“You don’t seem well,” Michael said as he stroked her cheek in a loving way. “I’m concerned about you.”

“I’m fine,” Natalie said, finding it hard to sound convincing.

Michael eyed her skeptically.

“I’m not so sure that’s true,” he said. He cupped her face with his hands, gazing deeply into her eyes. “You look so tired, honey. I’m really worried.”

He didn’t sound sincere.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Don’t…”

Natalie caught herself.

“Don’t what?” asked Michael.

“Try to make this anything more than it is. I just thought about taking a trip, is all.”

“Yeah?” Michael didn’t look remotely convinced. “A trip, a birth certificate, my hometown? I’m getting this strange sense that you don’t trust me, do you, Nat?”

“You know our problems.”

“Problems? More like an obsession of yours, I’d say.”

“It’s not,” Natalie said, stepping away. She didn’t like him standing so close to her.

“Yes, it is,” he replied. “You’re a terrible liar, especially when you’re so exhausted.”

Natalie thought of blood on a kitchen floor, a broken plate nearby. A shudder tore through her as she contemplated when the police would come knocking at her door. She’d done as she intended and put them on his trail. At some point soon, Michael would have to answer for his actions.

She had to move cautiously here. A man with that kind of violence in him could do terrible things in a sudden fit of rage.

“Maybe you should take a trip on your own,” Michael suggested. “Let me look after the kids for a while. You need to get some real rest, and Addie and Bryce need their mom functioning at a hundred percent.”

Something about his suggestion, a subtext she noted, made Natalie perk up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Michael, sounding defensive. “I’m just saying the kids need their mom healthy and well, that’s all.”

“Are you implying that you’re worried about my fitness as a parent?”

Michael scoffed at the insinuation.

“No, babe, I’m worried about you as a person, you and your health. You’ve been under a lot of strain, and you’re sounding kind of paranoid now.”

Was she?

Natalie took a few steps back from Michael to get a better look at him. The threatening behavior she thought she’d seen mere moments ago—a menace lurking in his eyes, the intimidating way he carried himself, an unsettling timbre to his voice—wasn’t there anymore. What she saw now was unfiltered empathy pouring out of him in waves.

“Look, if you want to go to Charleston, if it means that much to you, then we’ll go.” Michael tossed out his concession as if it were nothing to him now. “It’s got a lot of great beaches and restaurants and a lot of bad memories for me, but whatever. If you think that’s what you need to get better, then I’m all for it. But you need to think about the children. You have to do what’s best for them, and sometimes that means putting yourself first.”