Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

PETER

M y job was to get the kids out of the house while Ainsley attempted to talk to the woman who wanted to ruin our lives. Sounds simple enough, right?

My wife wanted to talk to her, to explain a few things. I thought it was dangerous, thought it was reckless to bring someone into our world, to tell her Ainsley had known her husband at all.

Ainsley said we had no choice.

Getting the kids to go to friends' houses was no problem; they were always excited to get out of the house, so my only responsibility was dropping them each off at their respective locations.

Ainsley had told me to stay away from the house, but I couldn't. I needed to be there. To protect her. To help her in case she got stuck in a lie. So, when I walked back through the front door only forty-five minutes after I'd left, I was met by two icy glares.

"I'm so sorry," Ainsley said, standing up and gesturing toward me. "This is my husband, Peter. Peter, this is Illiana De Luca."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, extending a hand. She stared at it oddly but made no move to return the gesture.

"Honey, could you give us a few minutes? Maybe go work outside so we can talk?" Ainsley nodded encouragingly at me, making me feel like a child being sent outside to play.

I turned back around, though I was hardly prepared to work outside, still dressed in my work clothes. I walked out into the yard, refusing to look in the direction of the porch or the secret hidden beneath it.

I needed to get inside. I needed to be sure she was protecting me, but how? She'd all but locked me out of the house. I made my way around toward the back of the house as a new idea struck me. I pulled open the back screen door, wincing as its hinges let out a loud squeak. I was hopeful that it was far enough away from the living room that they wouldn't hear it, but I paused, listening for approaching footsteps anyway. I waited, half expecting my wife to appear and tell me to buzz off. When she didn't, I opened the door fully, sliding inside and shutting it behind me. I moved across the laundry room with silent footsteps.

Once in the hall, I could hear their hushed voices. I moved closer and closer toward them until, halfway down the hall, I could make out what they were saying.

"In the end, I couldn't go through with it," Ainsley said. "I love my husband very much. It was a mistake, and I told Stefan that much. He was kind to me that night. He said he understood. I'm seeing now that he understood my struggle more than I realized at the time, being married and all." I pressed myself against the wall, listening.

"He contacted me a few times after that, checking in to see how I was. I appreciated him. But then, the messages seemed almost obsessive." I heard her shudder and knew it was an act. But she was convincing to anyone who didn't know her as well as I did. "I stopped responding to him. I had no idea he was a police officer, but he'd started to scare me. I have no experience with online dating, so I was worried about what I'd gotten myself into."

"Stefan has a bit of an obsessive personality," Illiana admitted. "But he's harmless."

"I did lie to you before, though. Stefan did come to my house that night. It was out of the blue, and he seemed like he'd been drinking…" She paused, I assumed waiting to see if Illiana would say anything, but when she didn't, Ainsley continued, "I didn't let him in. After a few minutes of knocking, he left. I haven't heard from him since."

"But why did you lie when I asked you?"

"I'm sorry about that. I think more than anything, I was worried. I'm worried for Stefan, worried about my husband discovering my infidelity. But I wanted to tell you the truth, and if it helps you find him, then it's worth it to me."

"What time do you think he was here?" Illiana asked, all business.

"It was around seven thirty, maybe. I can't remember for sure."

"And your husband, what did he think was happening? Did he see him?"

"Thankfully, my husband was working late that evening. He came home shortly after Stefan left, but they missed each other. He doesn't know anything about him… I'd appreciate it if we could keep it that way."

I closed my hands into fists, feeling immense appreciation for my wife at that moment. If we made it through this, I was going to be better. I was going to be who she deserved. I swore it right then and there.

"I understand, but…I need you to come down to the police station with me. You can tell your husband whatever you'd like, but you have to tell the detectives what you've told me."

"I can't," Ainsley argued. "Peter would ask too many questions. Besides, like I told you, I don't know anything. If Stefan tries to contact me, I will let you know. You can leave your number with me, and—"

"No. No, that's not enough. For all we know, you were the last person to see my husband before he disappeared. Perhaps the last person to see him alive." Her words hung heavy in the air, and I heard Ainsley take a deep breath.

"He isn't dead," Ainsley said softly. "You shouldn't talk like that. He can't be dead."

"What other explanation is there? My husband loved his job, we had a happy marriage, I let him see other women when he wanted to. He was finishing up a few projects around the house. Last week, he'd booked us a vacation for next spring. He wasn't planning to leave me, Mrs. Greenburg. I know that much. Which means something bad has happened to him. You have to tell the police what you know."

I heard the fabric of the couch shift as someone stood. Then, Ainsley said, "I can't, I told you. I had nothing to do with any of this."

"That's fine. I believe you, but you need to tell your story to the police. It could help."

"I'm not going with you. I'm sorry your husband is missing, but I have a family to take care of. I can't go running off to help you solve the mystery—"

"You can, and you will." My wife had met her match. I listened with a racing heart as the women bickered back and forth. "You have a responsibility to—"

"To what? To tell the police that I don't know anything about what happened to him? Surely you can manage that."

"How can you say that? How can you be so heartless? Surely you care that he's missing…that he's probably dead."

"You seem awfully certain of that for someone who's claiming to be innocent."

I heard the sharp inhale of the woman who wasn't my wife. "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. How do I know you didn't do anything to him? Hm? For all I know, you were jealous of his affairs and decided to put an end to it, and now you're looking for someone to pin it all on. Maybe you don't want him found at all."

"How can you say that?" she asked, choking back tears. "I love my husband more than life. I've put up with everything because he means the world to me. I could never…would never…I didn't—"

A sharp, shrill ringing interrupted her and, for a moment, the room was still.

"Hello?"

Silence. I felt cool sweat gathering at my temples. "You what?" I took a step closer to the living room, stepping on a creaky spot on the floor. I froze, taking a half-step back as I tried to come up with my excuse. I needed to go to the bathroom. I needed a drink of water. I was coming to change clothes. "Are you sure?" Her voice interrupted my thoughts. "Yes. Okay. Sure, I'll be right down. Okay, thank you… Bye." The last word was whispered, breathless.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Ainsley asked, genuine concern in her voice as pure panic swelled in my stomach.

After a moment, Illiana said the words that shook me to my core, "No. I-I, um…I have to go. They…the police, they found his truck. They found Stefan's truck."