Jeff Abbott - No Rest for the Dead

She eyed him once again. “Why in the world would I want to talk to you?”

“I’m here because I had my arm twisted by a friend of mine-and yours .”

“Whose name is…?”

“Tony Olsen.” He studied her face as her eyes widened. “And he’s worried about your husband.”

“Well… I’m not.”

“You’re not the least bit concerned that your husband has vanished?”

“ Vanished is a rather strong word.”

“It’s an applicable word, Mrs. Thomas. No one has heard from him in two weeks. He’s hasn’t shown up at work. He isn’t answering his calls. His cell phone mailbox is full. E-mails sent to him go unanswered.”

Rosemary bit her lower lip. “I-I don’t know where he is, Detective. I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”

“You were the last person to see him alive.”

“Are you threatening me again?”

“Just stating an obvious fact, Mrs. Thomas. Everyone at the museum, at the Jackson Pollock event, saw you run out of the room. And everyone there also saw your husband run after you. And no one-and I mean no one-has heard from your husband since. And I know that because I’ve interviewed every one of them… except you.” Nunn let that sink in. “Right now, you’ve got a chance to talk to me unofficially . How long that’ll last…” He shrugged.

Rosemary swallowed hard. “How do you know Tony?”

“We go way back. It’s complicated.” He took the handle of her suitcase. “Where’s your car?”

She grabbed her suitcase back from him. “This-this is none of your business.”

“Last chance, Mrs. Thomas. Official or unofficial?”

Rosemary didn’t speak for a moment. Then, finally, she said, “There’s a coffee shop about five minutes away-ten blocks to the north. I’ll meet you there.”

The woman hadbeen described to Nunn as mousy and meek, but from his first impression he’d have to say she was anything but. Still, he felt it was an act, a bruised woman acting tough. And she was good-looking, not exactly a knockout, but her sad blue eyes were beautiful, and she had a dynamite figure he hadn’t missed, and a tan courtesy of her sojourn in Mexico. He liked that she looked him squarely in the face when she talked to him, her eyes trying not to betray her vulnerability.

She was nothing like the suspects he was used to dealing with.

Olsen, what did you get me into?

She arrived five minutes after he did and slid into the red Nauga-hyde bench seat opposite. She hid her face behind a plastic menu.

Nunn studied the list of food items. Typical coffee shop fare. The place was staffed with hairnetted waitresses in white, fluffy skirts and white aprons. He said, “What can I get you?”

“Peace and quiet.”

Nunn laughed.

She put the menu down. “I’m not hungry and the greasy smell is making me ill. Just get your questions over with-please.”

“Hey, you picked the place, not me.”

“I’m noted for picking losers.” Rosemary tried to smile but her eyes filled with tears. After a moment she said, “I’m usually not a bitch. Christopher was the nasty one. Now that he’s gone, I suppose I’ve discovered the wicked side of myself.”

“Now that he’s gone ?”

“ Gone as in gone from my life, not gone for good.” Rosemary dried her eyes on a paper napkin. “See, this is precisely why I didn’t want to talk to you. I say one thing and you’ve warped it into an accusation.”

“Look, Mrs. Thomas, I don’t know what happened to your husband, but if something did happen, this little interview is only going to be a dress rehearsal. So in reality, I’m doing you a favor.”

Rosemary stiffened again. “Am I supposed to be thankful?”

“You can continue with your snide comments or we can work together to figure out what’s happened to your husband.”

“You see, here is where we differ. I don’t care. Christopher stepped out of my life that awful night and I’m glad .” She straightened her shoulders to emphasize what she’d said.

“So what happened that awful night?”

“You’re the one with the facts. You tell me.”

“You stormed out of the gallery and Christopher followed you. People heard you argue, slinging accusations at one another.”

Rosemary said, “I told him he was pathetic, and he told me I was frigid. But what really infuriated me was his calling me an albatross around his neck. As if I was a liability. It was my money and my devotion to his career that made him what he was.”

“That must have really angered you.”

“I already said that.” She paused. “So now you’re playing shrink?”

Nunn smiled as a waitress came over to take their order. Rosemary surprised him by ordering a hamburger with all the fixings, a double order of french fries, and a Coke. He ordered coffee, black.

“What happened after you argued?”

“I went home, Detective. I don’t know what Christopher did-and I don’t care.”

Nunn gave her a chance to add to her story. When she didn’t speak, he said, “Aren’t you leaving something out?”

“Yes. I forgot to tell you that I absolutely loathe the bastard!”

Nunn dropped his voice. “Mrs. Thomas, I told you. I’ve talked to people. All sorts of people. I know you went home-eventually.” He leaned back in the booth and saw the panic in her eyes. “I spoke to the guards. You two weren’t very discreet. They heard the both of you arguing.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Why don’t you get it off your chest? Tell me about it.”

Rosemary stared at a worn spot on the Formica tabletop. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You did go back to the museum.”

“I went back to my office to get some peace and quiet. I was…” Her eyes watered again. “I was so ashamed of my behavior.”

Nunn nodded sympathetically. In the back of his mind, he was cursing himself for not bringing her into the station house, for not formally Mirandizing her. But now that she was talking, he didn’t want to interrupt.

“I couldn’t believe how low I had sunk.” She looked up at Nunn. “Why should I care if we divorced? We hadn’t been a real couple in ages. I was angry, I was spiteful, I was sick. After arguing outside the event, I knew that if I didn’t leave, I’d do something I really regretted. So I got in my car and drove away from him. I couldn’t possibly go home-not in my condition-so I turned around.”

“And went back to the museum, to your office?”

She nodded. “But Christopher, being Christopher, couldn’t leave it alone. He had to torture me. He had to make sure that he had the last word.”

“He followed you.”

“He couldn’t leave it alone,” she said, a bit breathless.

“He came to your office?”

“My first mistake was thinking that we could actually have a civil conversation.”

“He was mad.”

“He was irate.” She sighed. “My head had cleared… somewhat. I replayed that horrid scene in my head and decided that, above all, I wasn’t going to stoop to his childish level of hurling barbs and insults. Our marriage was over and the sooner I accepted it, the happier I would be.” She studied Nunn’s face. “One of the reasons I went to Mexico. It was time to be good to myself. To discover the old Rosemary-the one who probably attracted Christopher in the first place.”

“What happened when he followed you into your office?”

“We argued. I threw things. He threw things. It was loud and embarrassing. One of the guards came in to investigate. At that point, I was so flustered, I just picked up my purse and left.”

She locked on his eyes. He now noticed flecks of silver amid the blue, like diamond dust. They were beautiful.