But why was Matthew still here?“I don’t know. But the two of them got into that argument at the wedding. I’d never seen Nate like that. Do you think he—” I can’t bring myself to say it. “Do you think he could have…?”
“No, Maya, Nate would never—”
“I saw someone out there. I thought it was just the Ambien making me see things, but what if it wasn’t? Oh god, what if Nate did it…what if—” But I stop when I hear someone enter the room behind me. The click of the door closing.
Daisy is still talking as I slowly turn, and standing there, ten feet away, is Nate.
—
I slowly hangup the call and watch Nate approach. My heart thuds a slow, abnormal rhythm. I can’t read the expression on his face.
I gesture to the phone. “It was Daisy—” I don’t know why I’m telling him this, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. At least, if he knew it was her, someone we could trust, he wouldn’t be upset.
“What did you tell the police?” Nate stares in my direction, but not into my eyes.
Dread twists in the pit of my stomach. Why is he asking me this? What does it matter what I told the detectives? I remember my conversation with Detective Gary, how I’dliedfor Nate. How I’d said he was with me when he wasn’t.
“Nate.” My voice shakes, but I force myself to be strong. “Where were you, really?”
I think of our first anniversary after our wedding, the promise we made at a wine bar in Harlem:I’ll never lie to you,Nate had said, as he took my hands in his. We promised we’d get through anything; no matter what, we’d work it out.
And now I want to believe Nate, of course I do, but how can I?
“Where do you think I was?” Nate asks, his voice strangely calm as he approaches, slowly.
In the woods near Bedford Road.
I take a step back until I’m flat against the wall, heart racing, blood whooshing in my ears. “I—I don’t know.”
“I told you. I went for a run.” Now that he’s closer, I notice the bruise under his eye turning purplish black, and what looks like a fresh scrape on his cheek.
“Why aren’t you telling me the truth?” I whisper. I don’t move. My hands stick to my sides. “You—you lied to me, Nate. You said you went on a run. But that’s not true, is it? The police have security footage of your car leaving the property.”Tell me I’m wrong.
The muscles of his jaw work. “Okay,” he says slowly, his face changing, caught in a lie. “I went for a drive.”
“You were drinking.” Nate looks away. His hands are in fists at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you this morning?”
He doesn’t respond.
Heat rises up my neck, burns my cheeks. Now it’s my turn to be furious. “I had to cover for you, you know that? I told the detectives you were with me, but they saw you leaving the house in a hoodie and now they think one of us killed Matthew because they caught me lying!”
Nate stares at me. “You didn’t have to lie.”
“Yes I did, Nate. You’re my husband. We’re in this together.” He folds his arms over his chest. He’s shutting down.
“Where did you go?”
Nate turns away, refusing to answer.
“Nate, look at me.” I’m pleading now, but I don’t care. I need some kind of explanation. Anything.
But…I can sense there’s something he’s not telling me. “Why did you change the lock on your suitcase?”
“Lost the old one.”
“And the blood on your shirt?”
“The blood?” Nate lets out a strained laugh, but his features harden. “Maya, if you’re so goddamned sure I did it, what are you doing asking me? Go call up your friend, the detective.” I flinch at his words.
