Pretty Little Wife(6)
Lila felt something inside her fall. That wasn’t right. That’s not what he should be saying. “Why would he be home?”
“He didn’t come to work. I’ve looked everywhere. He didn’t call in sick, and when I didn’t hear from you . . .”
Not possible.
“Wait a second.” She took a deep breath as she tried to ma neuver through the questions bombarding her brain. “I got up and he was gone, as usual. He’s at the school.”
Because that’s what they did. She stayed up at night to read or watch television. He went for a run in the early morning and fixed his breakfast, all without having to dodge her, because she only got up when he was about to walk out the door. The system worked for them. That was the schedule . . . until today.
“Look for his car.” She couldn’t believe she had to be so specific to get this part done, but fine.
A strangled sound escaped Brent’s throat. “I’ve been calling him for almost two hours without success.”
“His car is there.” Lila knew that was true.
Brent shook his head. “Where?”
By the field behind the football stadium where he coached field hockey. That’s exactly where it had to be because that’s where she put it a few hours ago while their part of the world still was plunged in darkness.
She forced her brain to stay focused. “At school.”
She understood some confusion. That was to be expected. He usually parked the SUV in an assigned spot by the school’s back door. Far right. First row. Aaron viewed the close-in spot as some sort of badge of honor. But that’s not where they’d find it today, and they should have found it by now.
“Lila, listen to me.” Brent put a hand on her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He’s not there. He never came to school today.”
This was ridiculous. How hard could it be to find a vehicle with a body in it?
“I don’t get it.” She choked the words out over the unexpected ball of anxiety clogging her throat.
“It’s probably nothing. A minor accident.” Cassie’s voice didn’t go up at the end of that sentence. “I can call . . .”
Cassie’s panicked voice faded until all Lila heard was the rush of blood as it drained from her body.
“There’s an explanation.” She said the line, hoping to mentally grab on and believe it, but no.
“Yes.” Cassie nodded in full helpful-neighbor mode. “Of course.”
“He might have needed a day off from the kids.” Brent let out a fake laugh that sounded more nervous than sincere. “I’m tempted some days.”
All the words and reassurances blended in Lila’s head. Brent alternated between rubbing her arm and patting it. Cassie’s voice finally registered as she talked on that call. Lila heard a few whispered words. “Police” and “missing” popped out.
Missing. Missing. Missing.
The truth body slammed her, leaving her chest heaving as she struggled for breath. The call she’d been waiting for would never come because Aaron’s car wasn’t in the lot or by the field. There wasn’t a car to find. Despite all her careful planning, he was gone.
She had to find Aaron before he found her.
Chapter Four
AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, THE WEATHER IN THE AREA IN AND around Ithaca balanced the thin line between fall and early winter. Temperatures dropped. Sweaters and sturdier shoes made an appearance. This part of New York, surrounded by the Finger Lakes and shoved right up against Cayuga Lake, defined “bucolic.” Trees awash in vibrant color. Waterfalls and hiking trails. Lush gardens and lots of places with “gorge” in the name.
A city with a small town buzz that expanded and contracted when the area’s three schools—Cornell University, Ithaca College, and Tompkins Cortland Community College—filled and emptied as the seasons turned. A place where people enjoyed a mix of the outdoors and scholarly discussions. The favorite local pastimes included boating, coffee, and insisting no intelligent person would live in New York City for more than a few years without bolting.
Lila transplanted to a neighborhood outside of Ithaca after meeting Aaron in North Carolina eight years ago and beginning their marriage less than a year later. For Aaron, the move north was a welcome return home, or near it. He’d grown up a bit farther to the east, in Central New York.
The area looked and felt the same to Lila, but the good people of New York knew the geographical boundary puzzle like a secret handshake. Central New York was not Upstate New York. Neither had much in common other than a shared state government with downstate.
Lila stood in Aaron’s empty school parking space and stared at the crowd of tress surrounding the one-story redbrick building and the athletic fields in the distance. Her gaze skipped over the vehicles, most some shade of blue or red, to the far end of the lot. She scanned the fields and saw kids out running and playing some sort of sports. Not one sign of Aaron’s SUV or a hint of screams as someone peeked inside the window at his still body.
Trying to end this mess, she’d insisted Brent come in by the back entrance to the school grounds. That he drive around, just in case Aaron was outside for an impromptu practice or getting some air. That was the excuse. It gave her a few minutes of silence as she traced a finger down the inside of the car window and tried to make this morning’s events make sense.