Chapter Sixty-One Maya

Chapter Sixty-One

Maya

August 2023

“Ms. Banks, may we come in?” Gary says, from outside the door.

“Of course.” I open the door. “I’m sorry for the mess—I was packing.” My palms are slick with sweat.

Simmons looks at the chair next to me, which is covered in my dress and Nate’s suit.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Gary says.

Simmons paces around the room, eyes crawling over our clothes, old coffee cups, luggage before stopping in front of me. My body goes rigid. “Ms. Banks,” she says, “can you walk us through what you did yesterday?”

I take a step away from her. “I was here—for Kai’s wedding. Margaret St. Clair invited a few close friends to stay on the property.” I pause as she writes this down. “My husband, Nate, and I came back to the room around ten.”

“We heard there was an altercation.”

“Nate didn’t start it.”

“Right.” She shoots a glance at Gary, who stands near the doorway with his arms folded. “What happened after that?” she asks.

Well, I think, I was asleep. And then I wasn’t.

“We went to bed, and”—I swallow—“my friend Daisy came by the next morning and told us he’d been—” I can’t bring myself to say he’d been murdered. “That was the first time I’d heard what happened.”

“What hours were you asleep?”

A bead of sweat drips down my spine. How do I mention the scream but avoid the fact that Nate was missing?

“Ms. Banks?”

“Sorry, um.” My mouth goes dry. “I think, uh, around one to seven a.m …. something like that. A noise woke me up at some point. But I fell back to sleep.”

“What kind of noise?”

I look down. “I don’t know…”

Detective Gary narrows his eyes. “Was your husband with you?”

I freeze. Where was Nate?

Looking for Matthew, a voice answers.

No. Nate wouldn’t do that. I should cover for him. He would do the same for me.

“Yes,” I answer, meeting Gary’s eyes.

Gary doesn’t look away. “Mr. DuPont’s body was found near the edge of the St. Clairs’ property. We think whoever attacked him was staying here last night.”

My eyes fall on my shoes, caked in mud, by the door. Something happened in those woods. Detective Gary’s eyes follow, and I look away, but not soon enough.

The room is suddenly too hot. “Mind if I open the door?”

He nods, and I open the door, letting in some air. I hover there, trying to block the shoes with my body.

“If you remember anything else,” Gary says with one last glance around the room, “don’t hesitate to call.”

Simmons follows him out the door, and I think it’s over, until she stops and looks down at my shoes. “Mind if we take these?”

—

I’m left standing there in the doorway, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach, as Detective Simmons and Detective Gary cross the lawn for the main house. They reach the back stairs at the same time that Nate and Dani emerge.

Nate sets Dani down and is saying something to the detectives, gesturing toward the pool house.

Wait! I want to run over there and tell him to corroborate my story, but it’s too late.

—

While the detectives are talking to Nate in the main house, Daisy arrives at the pool house with the girls.

The moment I see her, I wrap Dani into my arms. Thankfully she seems fine. “Are you okay?”

She nods, squirming in my tight grasp. “Are you okay, Mama?”

“Of course.” I force myself to smile as convincingly as possible.

As I help Dani change into a clean shirt, I ask Daisy about her meeting with the detectives. “Did they ask where Scott was?”

“No…why?” Daisy frowns, confused.

Dani runs off into the corner toward our luggage.

“Do you think whoever did it was on the property?”

“The detective seemed to imply that.”

“That’s awful.” Daisy checks her phone. “Marta’s not picking up,” she says. “I’m going to go over to her house.”

My chest tightens in warning. “Are you sure?” In the corner of the room, Dani is fiddling with the lock on Nate’s suitcase. “Dani, honey, leave that alone.”

“I want to watch something.” She yanks at the front pocket zipper, where she knows Nate’s iPad is.

“Can you please give us a minute?”

“No.”

Sighing, I go over to Nate’s suitcase. Put in the passcode, 0925, our wedding anniversary. It doesn’t open.

“That’s weird.” I try again, jiggling the lock. It’s stuck. He’s changed the passcode.

“What?” Daisy asks.

“Nothing,” I respond, staring at it in confusion. Why would he change the passcode?

That’s when I notice something caught in the main zipper of his suitcase: Nate’s running shirt. The thin dry-wick fabric is still damp with sweat. I’m working it free when I notice a dark rusty-brown stain on the sleeve, the color of dried blood.

My hand covers my mouth.

No longer distracted by her phone, Daisy looks up. “What’s that?”

I drop the fabric back into the suitcase. “Nate’s dirty running shirt. It’s nothing.”

I startle as my phone trills through the silence. It’s someone calling from the main house.

My hands are shaking so badly, I can barely hold on to the phone. “Hello?”

“Maya, it’s Margaret. The detectives want to speak with you again.” She lowers her voice. “And I think you should have a lawyer with you this time.”