Conrad leans forward, putting out his hands. “Let me make this simple. I have not laid eyes on Lauren since September eleventh. Is that clear enough? Feel free to ask the staff at the condo building. The doormen will tell you.”
Andy sits back in his chair.
“Let me show you something.” Jane lifts the pink phone out of the evidence bag. “Ever seen this phone?”
“Not—no,” he says. “What is that? I mean, it’s a phone, but—whose?”
“You don’t know?”
“I have no idea.” His expression hardens. The same notion, no doubt, is springing to his mind that came to Jane and Andy when they saw it. A burner phone she used for an extramarital affair.
He looks around like he wants to hit something. “So there was someone else,” he says. Now that he’s beyond speculation, he seems to care more than he let on a moment earlier. The anger shows in his coloring, the tightness of the jaw. “Who? Who’s the other man?”
“We don’t know if there was another man,” Jane says. “And if there was, we don’t know who.”
“What’s the . . .” He gestures to the phone. “Are there text messages? There must be.”
“It’s not something we can get into right now,” she says.
“Answer me that, though. Are there messages? Love notes?”
“There are text messages, yes. I promise that when I can give you—”
“When did they start? How long has this . . .” He looks away with a bitter smirk.
“I can’t, sir.”
“Just tell me that much. Give me a date.”
“Mr. Betancourt, please. Soon, I promise, but not now.”
Conrad stews on that, trying to deal with his anger in a composed manner and only barely succeeding. But slowly he decelerates and seems to realize that his reaction to the prospect of his wife’s extramarital affair could only deepen any suspicions the officers might have of him.
“Great,” he mumbles. “That’s just . . . great.”
“Mr. Betancourt, can you excuse us a second?” Andy says.
Jane follows Andy into the Betancourt’s kitchen, where Andy removes a copy of the transcript of text messages.
“Here,” Andy whispers. “Here, read these messages from September nineteenth.”
Jane reads over his shoulder:
UNKNOWN CALLER
USER OF CELL PHONE （BETANCOURT # 1）
Mon, Sept 19, 10:01 AM
Top of the mornin’ to yah, lassie.
Mon, Sept 19, 10:04 AM
Good morning, my queen.
Mon, Sept 19, 10:06 AM
Sounds like you’re otherwise occupied. Will try you tonight my love.
Mon, Sept 19, 8:00 PM
Top of the evenin’ to yah, lassie.
Mon, Sept 19, 8:01 PM
Um, Lassie was a dog but ok
Mon, Sept 19, 8:01 PM
Cranky are we?
Mon, Sept 19, 8:02 PM
Didn’t sleep well last night Con snores so loudly <yawns>
Mon, Sept 19, 8:02 PM
So that’s why I missed you this morning?
Mon, Sept 19, 8:04 PM
Once he left I slept half the morning
Mon, Sept 19, 8:05 PM
Can’t say I enjoy image of you sleeping with him.
Mon, Sept 19, 8:05 PM
Well it’s his house don’t be healing
Mon, Sept 19, 8:06 PM
LOL don’t be JEALOUS damn autocorrect bye for now
That . . . doesn’t make sense.
“Doesn’t make sense,” says Andy. “On September nineteenth, Lauren’s complaining that the night before, Conrad was snoring so loud she couldn’t sleep. Conrad swears to us he wasn’t anywhere near Lauren after September eleventh. And I can’t see him lying about that. I mean, we can check that very easily. Conrad would have to be an idiot to lie about that so specifically.”
“Agreed,” Jane whispers. “Conrad’s not lying. Lauren is, to her secret boyfriend.”
“But why?” Andy asks. “Why would Lauren be lying to her guy on the side?”
“And if she lied to him about that,” says Jane, “what else did she lie about?”
October
41
Tuesday, October 18, 2022
This could be trouble, this problem. What am I going to do?
It matters a lot to me, Lauren. I can’t do that to Vicky. I can tell her, yes. I can tell her tonight, when she gets home, that I’ve met you, that I’m going to get a divorce and marry you. But I can’t file for divorce before November 3. I can’t file before our tenth anniversary. If I do, she’ll be cut off from the trust money.