The Housewife(44)

Still, I sure hope he didn’t.

“Thank you,” he says, shutting his laptop. He gets up and looks for something on the shelf. He turns to me. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

He’s not smiling. He’s staring at me with cold blue eyes, like he knows something.

I want to look away, leave the room, but I’m scared to, in case the thumb drive happens to be right there at his feet, or on the shelf right in front of him. I’m afraid that if he finds it somewhere really odd, like wedged between his father’s clock and The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, then he’ll know. He’ll know that someone has been rifling through his safe. I mean, he’ll know anyway when he tries to open it and finds his code doesn’t work. Maybe he’ll think it’s a glitch. Everything is a glitch these days. That’s what I’ll tell him if he asks me. It must be a glitch.

I can’t move. I want that thumb drive. I want to take it to Erin and tell her to go to the police. Surely that will be enough for the authorities to take another look at this monster and reopen the investigation into Deborah’s death.

I join him and tilt my head to look at his books—all six of them.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I say. I swallow, then turn to him and give him what I call my porcelain doll look: big round eyes, guileless, a little shy. He used to love that look.

“What is it, Jodie?”

I would like to read one of your books.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes. You said I needed help. I thought I could start there.”

Did you fuck him?

I can’t stop shaking, so I cross my arms over my chest, hoping to steady myself.

“Well. Okay, that’s not a bad idea, but not every one of my books would be a good fit. Let me see…” He fingers the spines lightly, taps one, then another. My heart is beating wildly, so much so that I can see the front of my silk top shuddering, but Roy seems oblivious. He pulls out a book and opens it, tapping at the page. “Yes…” he mutters to himself. “Yes… That’ll do.”

He hands it to me. “This one.”

I turn it around. Unlock: How to Change Your Thoughts and Release Your Best Self.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

He smiles. “I’m glad.” He goes to his desk and puts things into his satchel. “Come on, let’s get out of here. ”

Yes, please. Get out of here, so I can run back and find the thumb drive.

I follow him down the corridor, seemingly engrossed in my book, then realize he hasn’t locked his door. And instead of going for the front door, he turns to the living room.

I stop in my tracks. “You’re not going to work?”

“I will in a minute. I have some calls to make first and…”

I don’t hear the rest because Marie has turned on the vacuum cleaner.

“What did you say?” I ask over the noise.

“I said, I’m going to make calls in the living room while Marie cleans in the—”

My heart slams in my chest. I turn on my heels and run back to the office. “Marie! Stop!”

But Marie can’t hear me, because Marie is vacuuming. Right where the tiny, minuscule thumb drive landed.

I grab her arm. “Marie!”

She looks up in alarm and turns off the vacuum cleaner. “Mrs. Davies? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong, Jodie?” Roy says from the doorway.

“Everything is fine, Roy. Why don’t you go and make your calls. I just want to have a word with Marie.”

“Can’t you see Marie is busy?”

“Yes, of course. You know what? I’ll do that, Marie.” I take hold of the vacuum tube and pull, but she won’t let go.

“What on earth are you doing?” Roy asks, taking a step inside the office.

“I like to clean your office myself, that’s all. You know that. I just like everything right, that’s all. ”

“You’re being ridiculous. That’s enough. Let Marie do her work, please. Come on.” He gestures to me. “Come out of there.”

“But I want—”

“That’s enough, Jodie!” he barks. “It’s not your job. Let Marie work, for Christ’s sake!”

A part of me wants to argue, but I know it’s hopeless. I’ll just make it worse. He’ll have to physically separate us fighting over the vacuum cleaner before dragging me out of there.

I sigh, loosely raise a hand. “Fine.” But Marie flinches as if I was about to hit her.

Seriously? God, don’t tempt me. Honestly, that woman is such an actress. She looks at Roy, her head lowered, small teeth digging into her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Davies. I have no idea what Mrs. Davies wants…”

“No need to apologize, Marie.”

But Marie must have recovered from her extreme terror of me, because she gives me a sideways smirk. Then, arching her back slightly, her little backside pushing back just enough to be noticed in her cute little maid’s outfit, she turns on the vacuum cleaner again. Roy gestures for me to leave the room, so I follow him out, my stomach churning, as the vacuum cleaner starts again, and sucks up everything that is small and loose in that room.