Adrienne shrugged back and walked to the other side of the room, scooping up a remote control from the arm of the couch as she passed; the TV went dark. She settled in the chair and drew her knees protectively toward her chest, then seemed to think better of it and allowed one leg to drop down, crossing it over the other. Bird waited, letting her discomfort percolate. When she stopped fidgeting, he leaned forward.
“Mrs. Richards, where were you last night?”
She blinked. “Me? I was here.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. Officer, what is thi—”
“When was the last time you spoke to Dwayne Cleaves?” he shot back. If he hadn’t been watching carefully, he would have missed the way her hands fluttered in her lap at the name, the flash of something—anger? fear?—that furrowed her brow before she regained her composure. Her pale blue eyes opened wider.
“Dwayne from . . . Copper Falls? The—what, the handyman? I don’t—”
She was getting ready to lie; Bird pounced before she could go any further.
“Mrs. Richards, I know you and Dwayne Cleaves were having an affair.”
This time, there was no need to watch carefully for a reaction: Adrienne Richards’s mouth dropped open and all the color drained from her face. Her hands became claws, fingers digging into her knees.
“You know . . . about Dwayne . . . and”—she took a breath, swallowed hard—“and me. About us.” Bird nodded. She shook her head slowly, staring at the floor. A long silence passed. When she spoke again, she kept her gaze fixed on a spot on the carpet just ahead of Bird’s feet.
“Who told you?” she said quietly.
“Guy named Jake Cutter. You know him?” Adrienne shook her head again, no, her expression inscrutable. Bird pursed his lips. “Did you know Dwayne had taken pictures of you? In a, uh, compromising moment?”
“Oh my God.” She buried her head in her hands. Bird watched her distress impassively, thinking, She thought nobody knew. She took a long breath, and finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “You saw the pictures?”
“No,” Bird said. “Jake Cutter did. He may not be the only one. I get the sense that Dwayne wasn’t exactly being discreet. Bragging, more like.”
She pressed her lips together, then stood abruptly and crossed in front of him, headed for the kitchen. Bird swiveled his head, a hand flying automatically to his hip.
“Ma’am, what are you . . . oh,” he said, as she reached the counter, grabbed the wineglass, and drained its contents in a single swallow. He waited as she poured herself another, the room silent except for the clink of the bottle against the rim of the glass and the sound of Adrienne’s breathing, shallow and shaky like she was trying to keep herself from crying. She returned, glass in hand, but set it down instead of drinking it.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said.
“Does your husband know?”
She shook her head furiously. “No, no.”
“When was the last time you saw Dwayne?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Six weeks ago?”
“In Copper Falls?” She nodded. “Not here at your place? You ever bring him back here?”
The woman actually had the nerve to look indignant. “Of course not,” she snapped.
“What about your husband? Did he have a relationship with Dwayne? Were they in contact?”
Adrienne’s voice grew shrill. “No! I mean, I don’t know who Ethan talks to, but I don’t know why—how would I—”
“How about Dwayne’s wife? You talk to her lately?”
“Lizzie?” She was wild-eyed now, twisting her hands in her lap. “What does that have to do with anything? Oh God, does she know? I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you asking me all this? Why are you here?!”
Bird allowed the question to hang in the air. He couldn’t shake the sense that she was hiding something, but it was only a sense, as ephemeral as the scent of her perfume hanging in the air. Apart from the moment where she’d tried to lie about the affair, there was no one thing he could point to, no one answer that stood out as an obvious lie—and maybe he was just mistaking embarrassment for evasiveness, because she certainly wasn’t faking her shock and distress at being found out as a cheater. The reaction when he’d told her about the photograph: that was real. Even now, she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment.
As if to prove his point, Adrienne sniffled loudly and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her expensive sweater. Bird grimaced. If she thought this was bad, he’d give her something to really cry about.