“Interesting,” Margot said. “How did you and Chantal meet?”
“She was a collector.”
“An art collector?” said Margot.
“It’s unlikely I would become intimately acquainted with a doll collector or vintage-car enthusiast,” Leo said.
As the detective jotted down a few notes, Leo noticed her bare ring finger. Divorced or lesbian? he wondered, unable to conceive that she might have simply remained single.
“How would you describe Owen and Irene’s relationship?”
“Average,” he said.
“Could you elaborate?”
“They were hardly star-crossed lovers. I suspect they made decent-enough roommates and they had a few things in common.”
“Like what?”
“Lack of ambition. And a somewhat modest way of life.”
Leo’s cologne was getting to her. It felt like it was burrowing down the back of her throat.
“What did you think of Owen?” Margot asked.
“I thought he was a nice-enough fellow.”
“Did you approve of their marriage?”
“It wasn’t my place to approve. I wasn’t her father.”
“How well did you know Luna?” Burns asked.
“Where there’s Owen, there’s Luna,” Leo said.
“What does that mean?”
“They’re very close.”
“How close?”
“Oh, I don’t think they were ever an item. If you’re asking whether Owen had affairs with other women, well, that’s another story.”
He had to work to get that into the conversation, Margot thought. It wasn’t a natural transition.
“Did Owen have someone on the side?” Margot asked.
“You’re the detective,” Leo said.
Margot couldn’t decide whether Leo was trying to help the investigation or throw Owen under the bus. “What was Irene’s relationship with Luna like?”
“They were friendly, I suppose. Irene was a generous woman.”
Detective Burns sharpened her gaze. “What did Irene’s generosity have to do with their friendship?”
“I merely meant that Irene didn’t hold a grudge,” Leo said.
“A grudge? About what?”
“Her wedding. I think it’s safe to say that Luna ruined that day.”
* * *
—
An hour later, Luna was sitting in the same interview room. The smell of Leo’s cologne lingered.
“Thanks for coming in,” Margot said. “My partner told me you were in between jobs, so I’m assuming it’s not a great inconvenience.”
“No,” said Luna. “It’s not.”
“How long have you been unemployed?”
“About a year.”
“What did you do?”
“I was a drug rep at Nyteq,” Luna said.
“Really? A drug rep is sales, right?”
“Yes,” Luna said.
“You don’t seem like a salesperson.”
“That was the conclusion we all came to.”
“What made you work for Nyteq?”
“I needed a job. A friend was working there and put in a good word. It paid well and the hours were flexible.”
“Why did you leave?”
“The company was downsizing. I took the buyout because I could afford to. They were going to fire someone.”
“And you don’t have to work. Your husband makes a good living?”
“I want to work,” Luna said. “There are limited opportunities in the Hudson Valley.”
“You and Owen have lived in the same general area since college, right?”
“Not exactly. Owen lived in Manhattan for a few years. But it was too expensive, and he was offered a teaching job at St. Michael’s.”
“Doesn’t Markham have a better art department?” Burns asked.
“Markham wasn’t hiring,” Luna said.
“Do you think he came back to the area because you were here?”
“I think it helped that he had a friend nearby.”
“Would you say that Owen is satisfied with his career?” Burns asked.
Luna shrugged. She’d met few men who were satisfied. Few women as well. Was she satisfied? She wouldn’t know how to answer that question. “I think he imagined a different life. But he accepted the life he had.”
“You guys seem really close. Am I wrong?”
“We are close,” Luna said. “But we’re not cover-up-a-murder close.”