Someone Else's Husband(5)

Within weeks Richard and Gretchen were spending all their time together. With his longish hair, beat-up car, and thrift store clothes, combined with a pristine room and diligent study habits, Richard was different from the other boys. Even his handwriting was a work of art. He had things “to make up for,” he’d said earnestly when Gretchen teased him about it, and it was true. He needed to be ready to work harder than all the private-school kids. But he also gave the best hugs and had a contagious laugh. Gretchen couldn’t always match Richard in warmth, but she loved that he was nothing like her parents.

Within a month of dating, Gretchen had known Richard was the one. No, that was a lie. She’d known it that first day in class, hadn’t she? She’d known it the second she laid eyes on him.



* * *



*

“I’m sure this is all upsetting,” Detective Reyes went on—and it was either kind or patronizing, Gretchen wasn’t sure which. Everything felt slippery. But she needed to focus. She needed a foothold.

“Richard has health problems,” she said. “They can become dangerous very quickly.”

This was not true. Richard was very healthy and fit.

“Your husband has health problems?” Detective Reyes asked, gesturing behind him toward the hallway where Richard had disappeared. “He seems in a lot better shape than me. And I’m, no offense, a lot younger.”

“He has dangerously high blood pressure and an irregular heartbeat,” Gretchen said. “He takes two different kinds of medications.”

“Didn’t he just climb Mount Kilimanjaro?” the detective asked, pronouncing the name of the mountain with what seemed like deliberate awkwardness. Kee-lee. “Isn’t that how he knew Frankie Callahan? I thought they did the climb together.”

Gretchen laughed tightly and regretted it immediately. A woman was dead. “They didn’t know each other, Detective. It was a ten-day trip. They were acquaintances, at best.”

The detective eyed Gretchen silently for a long, uncomfortable moment. “There’s a lot we don’t know about this situation yet, Mrs. Falk. That’s why we asked you to come down here so you could answer some questions.”

Gretchen crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t know what we can possibly tell you.”

He flipped open a notebook. “How about we start with why you didn’t go on this trip.”

She wasn’t going to answer any actual questions without Bruce there, but she would entertain this chitchat if it got her closer to getting Richard out.

“Climb Kilimanjaro?” Gretchen laughed again, breezily this time. She could regain the upper hand in the conversation. It was so obvious that Reyes was fishing for problems in their marriage when there was nothing there to find. “Do I look like someone who would do that?”

He made a point of assessing her physically, though somehow respectfully. “I think so. Yes. Very much so, in fact.”

Gretchen felt pleased despite herself. She knew firsthand there was a certain novelty to the well-maintained older woman—even with very attractive, much younger men. And it was nice to be reminded that she was still beautiful. She often passed for far younger, too. Some people even said forty (an exaggeration), but on a good day forty-five was a possibility.

“Well, thank you,” Gretchen replied, adjusting herself in her seat and crossing her hands in her lap—better. “But, no, I don’t climb. I prefer to do other things with my free time.” And that was enough with the flirting. “I do need to speak with Richard now, to see that he’s taken his medication. I’m always the one to remind him. Every day. With this kind of stress, he could have a heart attack.”

“What about when he was on that mountain?” Reyes asked.

“What?”

“His medication. You just said you remind him every day. Who reminded him while he was hiking?” Reyes had locked eyes with her. He knew full well that Gretchen was using the medication as an excuse.

“He’s not a child, Detective. He can manage, obviously.” Gretchen did sometimes care for Richard like he was her fourth child, and she found it very satisfying most of the time. “I’m just saying, under these circumstances, he might forget. Anyone might.”

Reyes stared at Gretchen, eyes narrowing. “You’re a very good wife.” This did not feel like a compliment.

It wasn’t going to be easy to maneuver her way around this detective. He wasn’t the hostess at Le Bernardin, or the receptionist at the Racquet & Tennis Club. But Gretchen knew how to throw her weight around to protect her family. She’d been doing it for thirty-four years.

“I’d like to go home now,” Gretchen said, leveling her gaze at the detective.

“Of course. You’re absolutely free to leave.” Reyes gestured toward the door. “The officers are finished up at your apartment. By the time you get home, they should be gone. But I should warn you that it will probably be a mess. My apologies in advance. I have heard it can feel like a violation.”

“What exactly were you looking for, anyway?”

“I’m afraid I can’t get into those details.”

“She was a stranger, Detective. An acquaintance. It’s a tragedy, what’s happened, but it has nothing to do with us.” The moment the words came out, she knew they were a mistake. She sounded like every dumb, betrayed wife in history.