I could try calling all the local mental health clinics, but they probably wouldn’t tell me if she was there or not, especially not if she’d told them she needed to get away from me.
How did all of this even happen? What the hell spurred Evie to take these drastic steps? Was this the end stage of her strange moods over the last three months or so?
Marla was my only connection to Evie now. I had to try to stay on her good side. “Okay. I can see you’re stuck in the middle of this. That’s not fair on you. It’s a lot for you to have to look after the girls. I’ve got time off work, so I’ll take them.” I wasn’t about to let her know I’d lost my job.
She sucked her lips in hard. “I promised Evie I’d keep them here.”
“They’re my daughters.”
“But Evie said—”
“Whatever Evie said, she’s not herself. If she’s checked herself in at a clinic or something, then her head’s not where it should be. She’s probably saying stuff that isn’t quite right.”
“I don’t mean to get personal, but it sounded like there’s been problems at home.”
That sounded like the old Marla. Of course you meant to get personal. “We’ve had money troubles for a long time now. It gets to both of us. But it seemed like, with her new job, that we were starting to turn a corner.”
I caught a flicker of quickly controlled glee on her face. Trouble for Evie and me spelled trouble for our marriage. And that could only make Marla happy. Correcting herself, she drew her mouth down so far it nearly hit the end of her chin. “Well, if you two were fighting a lot, maybe it was having a bigger effect on Evie than you knew.”
“I didn’t say we were fighting a lot.”
“Maybe she kept it all to herself then.”
“Kept what to herself?” I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied look from Marla’s face—a look she could no longer hold back.
Another possibility bled darkly into my mind. What if Evie hadn’t gone to a clinic? What if she’d gone off alone to do something terrible to herself?
Would Evie do that? When someone committed suicide, their family often said it caught them unawares. Panic shot into my throat. “Look, Marla, I’m taking my daughters. Now.”
“Why don’t you just leave them one more night? Give you a chance to cool down.”
“I don’t need to cool down.”
“I think you do. Just leave.”
“What are you going to do if I don’t? Call the police? I can save you the trouble, because I’m going there myself.”
“Get real. You are not.”
“My wife’s missing, as far as I’m concerned. Something’s very wrong here, and I’m going to find out what.”
Realisation dawned on Marla’s face as she studied mine. She touched her fingers to her mouth in alarm. “She just said she needed time alone,” she said, repeating what she’d told me earlier, the resolve in her voice fading.
“Can you bring the girls out, please?” I kept my gaze level.
She folded her arms in tighter. “How are you going to work and take care of them?”
“I finished up the job this afternoon.” There you go, Marla. Another piece of information for you to gloat about.
“You lost your job?” Her eyes opened a touch too wide to be authentic.
“Whatever. Give me my kids, and I’ll go.”
Marla looked like she didn’t know whether to smile or frown, muscles wavering at the sides of her mouth. She had nothing left to argue. Hunching her shoulders, she marched inside. Willow and Lilly stepped from the house again, looking a little uncertain this time. I hoped they hadn’t heard any of what I’d been talking about with Marla. As I took their hands and walked down the path, Marla and her mother watched. No doubt they’d be busily speculating on what had gone wrong at the Harlow house, trying to figure out what Evie had run away from—all the things that must be wrong with me.
I strapped the girls into their car seats and drove away. My first instinct was to head straight to the police station. But I needed time to think. What was really going on here?
Just how long had Evie planned this? A day? A week? I needed some more details before I made a statement to the police. And I needed to get my head around the reasons why my wife had left me.
Nothing was making sense.
THE FIRST CHALLENGE
14. Evie
NO ONE WANTED TO RETURN TO the gloom of the monastery after breakfast. We stayed outside in the garden, hanging near the stream, eating warm fruit straight from the trees and feeling decadent.