Crowe made a note, West nodded, both men smiling in understanding. Home projects could be such a bear.
Of course, Graham had to lie. What else was he going to say?
Oh, during a marriage-ending fight, my wife threw a toy robot at me.
What were you fighting about, sir?
I was caught on camera fucking the nanny. You know, the one you’re here asking about.
“What about her phone?” asked Selena, eager to move away from Graham’s lies. “Can’t you track her that way?”
“Her phone is offline,” said Detective West. “She hasn’t used a known credit card since early last week.”
She thought of Geneva, shuttling the kids back and forth to school, running all the errands—to the grocery store, the dry cleaners, even getting the car serviced. Such intimate work, to run someone’s daily life.
“She’s here every weekday,” said Selena, musing. “She eats her meals at our place and makes a plate to take home for dinner. I give her cash for errands, groceries, whatever. So she probably doesn’t use her card much during the week.”
“That’s what her sister told us,” said Crowe, nodding.
Had Geneva ever mentioned a sister? A sister who was close enough to know her habits, to become concerned enough to call the police because of a missed breakfast date, with a key to her house. It seemed like Selena would have known about a sister. That she should have known.
“Did you pay her on Friday?”
“I did,” said Selena. “By check. She usually mobile-deposits it, sometimes even before she leaves.” Another nod, another scribble.
“Can you check your account and see if it came through?” he asked.
A light sheen of sweat sprung up on Selena’s forehead. A glance at the clock told her that the boys would be late for school, that she would miss her train. “Of course.”
“Did she mention any plans for the weekend?” he asked.
“No,” said Selena. “In fact, she told me to text her if we needed any help over the weekend, that she’d be around.”
Not we, me, thought Selena. Because she’d said Graham was away on “a boys’ weekend.” Another lie. This one hers.
“And did you?”
“No,” said Graham.
A shift of his weight, a slight leaning forward. “We had a quiet family weekend at home mostly. Oh, and the park. We went to the park.”
A family weekend. How idyllic. You guys are just too cute. Those boys so grown up. Such a good mom! Nothing more important than time with your family! All the comments on her Instagram posts.
“What about boyfriends?”
Graham looked thoughtful, rubbing at his chin, then shook his head. He looked to Selena in warm inquiry. If anything about this was unsettling to him, it did not show. Even a little. He simply struck the perfect posture of concerned employer.
“Not that she mentioned,” said Selena, shaking her head.
Other than my husband?
Who she was fucking while I was working late, supporting my family?
Not that she mentioned.
Honestly, she and Geneva didn’t talk that much. Their conversations were about the boys, the chores, the errands. Selena left when Geneva arrived, and Geneva left when Selena got home. Shift workers, passing each other by. Did Selena know anything really about Geneva’s life? Very little.
Geneva’s father lived nearby, Selena thought she’d heard the other woman mention. Or had. Had he passed on? Embarrassingly, she couldn’t recall. She didn’t remember a sister, friends, stories about how she spent her off time. There was no mention of a boyfriend. In some real sense, Geneva stopped existing for Selena when she was not caring for Oliver and Stephen. But maybe that’s because Geneva was so quiet, so deferential with Selena. And Selena was just so busy, caught up in the day-to-day of it all. She tried to remember what they talked about on the playground, before Selena had hired her. The Tucker boys mostly, childcare stuff, routines, and device and television rules, organic eating, allergies.
“She’s late now,” said Selena, looking at the clock. “She hasn’t called. That’s never happened.”
She walked to the window, half expecting to see Geneva coming up the drive, moving quickly, flustered for being late. So sorry! I went out of town last minute! Lost my phone!
No. There was a cold hollow in her middle.
The boys came tearing down the stairs.
“Aren’t we late? Where’s Geneva?” asked Oliver, always aware of situations. Then to Detective Crowe, a direct, “Who are you?”
“I’m Grady,” he said, easily, offering his hand. Oliver took it and shook. “Nice grip, buddy.”
Oliver seemed pleased by that.
“Running a bit late for school today, boys,” said Graham rising, pushing them back toward the door with a gentle hand on each boy’s back. “Go watch television for a bit.”
They ran off happily. That was a major departure from the no devices, no television before school rule.
“I’ll have to call work,” said Selena. “Let them know I’m running behind.”
Graham seemed about to object, then pressed his mouth closed.
As she went for her phone, she wondered about the videos of Graham and Geneva, which she’d recorded and were saved on her computer for anyone with the password to see. And weren’t they likely in the cloud somewhere, saved by the company that made the camera, designed the app and software?
Even if she deleted them from her computer—weren’t there supposedly all kinds of ways these things could be found? Not that it would come to that. They weren’t going to be searching her computer, of course! That was ridiculous. She’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds in her life. Geneva was going to turn up. Of course she was.
She left a message for Beth, called the school. Then she tried Geneva, but the call just went to voice mail.
She logged into their checking account via the app on her phone. Geneva’s check hadn’t cleared—but if she’d deposited late Friday, it might not have. Sometimes the funds didn’t sweep from her account until Tuesday. Back in the living room, she shared this with Detective Crowe. He nodded, then launched into more questions.
“Did she mention anyone she might be having problems with? Someone following her? Calling too often?”
“No,” said Selena. “Nothing like that.”
But would she have? Beth and some of Selena’s other friends were so close with their childcare employees that they seemed more like part of the family. But she didn’t have that with Geneva, even—before. Again, an ugly flash on Geneva and Graham. Selena’s cheeks went hot, and she wondered if anyone noticed.
“Who employed her before you?”
“The Tuckers,” said Selena. “They live a few streets over.”
Crowe flipped back through his notebook. “Her sister said that there were some problems there, that she left abruptly.”
Selena shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think Mrs. Tucker—Eliza—just wanted to stay home with the kids.”
But she didn’t really know. She didn’t know the Tuckers per se, though they were Facebook friends, the kids all went to the same school. They’d provided a reference via email. Maybe it had seemed a bit terse?