Page 33 of Done Dirty

“Can you tell us where you were yesterday between 7 p.m. and 2 a.m.?” Jack asked.

“Holt and I had dinner at Rosario’s.” She smoothed her dress over her knee. “We got home around nine thirty. I took an Ambien and went to bed.”

“He was home all night?” Jack asked.

“As far as I know,” she said. “I was asleep.”

“When did you find out about Wade?”

“I saw it on the news. A few minutes later I got a text from the studio that classes were cancelled for the week.”

Jack stood. “We appreciate your time.”

She arched a brow and came slowly to her feet. “Is that all you need from me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

I snickered to myself as we headed for the door.

“Just in case you need anything else from me,” she said. “Here’s my cell number.”

She held a card out to Jack, and I decided enough was enough. But before I could give her a piece of my mind Jack stepped in.

“You can keep your number,” he said. I’d heard him use the same tone of voice with criminals in an interrogation room. “You disrespect me and my wife when you behave that way.”

Her lips pressed tight together and she looked back and forth between us, as if just considering that we could actually be a couple.

“Never hurts to try,” she said.

“It does actually,” he said. “You should have more respect for your marriage and the life you’re privileged to live. It looks like it could be a good one.”

“I don’t need a lecture from a cop.”

“You and your husband both need more than a lecture,” he said. “I’d suggest counseling. Make sure you don’t leave town anytime soon.”

And with that we stepped back out into the early evening sun, and for the first time since I’d seen Sloane Ferriday, I took a breath of relief.

CHAPTER NINE

The evening sun was still up when we pulled into the driveway. July in Virginia doesn’t give up the light until almost nine.

The front porch light was on. Which meant Doug and Oscar were home.

Oscar confirmed it before I had the door all the way open. He came off the porch at full speed, all four feet going slightly different directions, and hit me somewhere around the knee and didn’t stop until I had both hands on his ears.

“He’s been asleep on the couch for two hours,” Doug said from the doorway. “He heard the car and decided he was dying of neglect.”

Oscar groaned against my leg.

“He makes a compelling case,” I said.

We went inside. Jack dropped his keys in the bowl on the entry table. I have genuinely never once remembered to do that.

Doug was in basketball shorts and a T-shirt that said Ah! The Element of Surprise with a periodic table tile for a made-up element, and his hair looked like it had been styled with a hand mixer. His laptop was open on the kitchen island, Margot’s interface lit on the screen, and there was a bag of chips next to it because the refrigerator had apparently disappointed him.

“Pizza’s coming,” Jack said.

“Good.” Doug ate a chip. “Gary made a production out of dinner every night. He’s a professional chef. He tried to teach me how to chop things.”