Prologue
Adult Detention Center, Alexandria, VA
* * *
“Oh, Dana.” Cate pressed her hand to the plexiglass separating her from her best friend and former college roommate. “Tell me again what happened.”
“I’ve told you everything I remember.” Dana stared through the glass, her face pale, her eyes bloodshot, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them. Her normally bouncy, golden-blond hair hung in limp strands around her face. The bright orange prison jumpsuit did little to brighten her skin, now tinged a dull, sallow shade. She stared through the plexiglass at Cate. “Unless you’ve heard something.” Her eyes widened, hopefully. “Did they find him? Did they identify who the blood belonged to?”
A knot tightened in Cate’s gut. She shook her head. “No, they haven’t found him.” Then she nodded. “And yes, they identified whose blood it was.” The look on her face must have been enough for Dana to know.
“It was Marcus’s.” Dana’s words weren’t a question. “I don’t understand.” She buried her face in her hands.
Cate hated seeing her friend so distraught. “Just go over it once more. For me. There has to be something we’ve missed.”
“I don’t know what happened.” Dana raised her head, her tone quiet, as if coming from far away. She sighed and stared at the far corner of the room behind Cate. “I came home from work, poured a glass of wine and started fixing supper. Marcus usually gets—got home an hour after me. We’d had a fight the night before. It was ugly. We yelled loud enough that the neighbors probably heard.” She snorted softly. “That’s probably why they arrested me. The police always assume it’s the spouse.” She shook her head and continued. “One minute I was chopping zucchini and drinking wine to fortify myself for when Marcus got home. The next thing I knew, I woke up on the kitchen floor. The knife I was using to chop zucchini was lying on the floor next to me, covered in blood, and I have no idea what happened.”
“What did you do?” Cate prompted. “What did you see or hear?”
Dana stared down at her hands as if looking for answers or reliving the nightmare—or both. “I sat up, confused. My head swam, my vision was blurry, and I nearly passed out. When I could see straight, I pushed to my feet and stood for a moment, holding onto the counter, trying to get my bearings. I grabbed my cell phone and dropped back down to the floor. I must have dialed 911 before I passed out again. I woke up the next day in the hospital with a police officer asking me what I’d done with my husband.” She stared across at Cate. “My husband,” she said, choking back a sob. “That’s when he told me they’d found his car in the lake, the door open, no sign of Marcus. When I asked what he was talking about, he told me Marcus hadn’t gone to work that day. My house had been searched. They found the knife with my fingerprints on it and Marcus’s blood.” She raised her hands, palms up. “Now, I’m here, and I have no idea where Marcus is. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive.” Tears streamed down Dana’s cheeks.
Cate touched her fingertips to the plexiglass again. “We’re going to figure this out, Dana. I promise.” She gave her friend time to collect herself before she continued with, “Sweetie, at any time while you were conscious, was Marcus there? Do you remember seeing him or hearing his voice?”
Dana shook her head. “I was alone chopping zucchini and alone when I woke up and dialed 911. What happened between...who knows?”
“Did they draw blood samples at the hospital?” Cate asked. “You could’ve been drugged.”
“If they did, it was while I was unconscious,” Dana said. “Cate, I didn’t kill my husband. You believe me, don’t you?”
Cate nodded. “I believe you.”
“You’re the only one.” Dana’s lip curled up on one side. “If Marcus is dead, who would have killed him and why?”
“At this point, the police are treating this as a domestic homicide,” Cate said.
Dana nodded. “That’s what my lawyer said.” She shook her head. “I didn’t kill Marcus.”
“Without a body, I don’t know how they can convict you.” Cate frowned. “They’ve dragged the lake where they found his car. So far, they haven’t found a body.”
With a hand to her mouth, Dana’s eyes filled. “We might not have been getting along so well, but I would never have wished him dead, much less kill him with a butcher knife.” Dana visibly shook at the thought. “I couldn’t,” she said, her voice fading.
“You couldn’t even squash a spider in our dorm room,” Cate said, her lips tugging upward at the corners. “You say you weren’t getting along. What do you mean?”
Dana shrugged. “For the past few months, Marcus came home from work stressed and angry. He’d take it out on me. If anything was bothering him, he’d make it my fault. His coffee wasn’t warm enough. Dinner was never ready on time. I’d spent too much money on groceries, even though my salary went into the same account as his. He stayed later and later at the office, making it impossible for me to gauge when he’d be home for supper. Then he’d yell at me, and I’d yell back.”
“Was he having an affair?” Cate asked softly.
“The late nights made me wonder,” Dana admitted. “I parked outside his office one night, thinking I’d follow him to his mistress’s place. Only, when he finally came out, he was alone. I tailed him to a gas station, and then he turned toward our house.” She laughed without mirth. “I had to take a shortcut to get home and inside the house before his car rolled into the driveway.”
“And did he come straight home?” Cate asked.
Dana nodded. “He did. I raced for the bathroom, stripped and ducked into the shower so he wouldn’t know I’d gotten home seconds before him.” She grimaced and sighed. “I’m not cut out for stakeouts and spying on people.”
“That’s why you have me,” Cate said.
“Oh, Cate, even this goes beyond friendship,” Dana said. “If the charges stick, I’m going to jail for years. Are you sure you want to be linked with a convicted murderer?”
“You’re not a murderer,” Cate said with a frown. “As long as there’s no body, they can’t convict you.” Cate hoped she was right.
