J.T. Ellison - Lie To Me

“Oh, for God’s sake. I didn’t hurt her. If anything, I’m more worried she went off and hurt herself.”

Three uneasy stares. He shouldn’t have said that. It just came out.

Ellen was the first to speak. “Are you saying she was suicidal?”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. She isn’t. I’m saying I’ve thought about every possibility this morning. She left me. That’s what I know for sure. But Rachel is right. Sutton has had a very hard time since the baby... No, I don’t think she’d do that.” He was rambling. Shut up, Ethan. “I think she wants some drama, is all.”

Wrong thing to say, take two.

Filly clutched the crying baby closer. “You are a coldhearted bastard, Ethan Montclair. How could you say such a thing? Your wife is missing!”

“That’s it. I want you all to leave.” When they didn’t move, he shouted, “Now!” at them, which had the effect of throwing a rock into a flock of pigeons.

“This isn’t over, Ethan. Now that we know... Either you call the police, or we will.” Ellen threw in the last bit over her shoulder, and five seconds later the door slammed behind them. The finality of it shocked him.

Bloody hell. Women.

He paced the house for a few minutes, gathering himself, planning. He had to do something here, had to make a decision. Had she left him, as the note and $50,000 missing from their accounts indicated? Was she up for a bit of drama to punish him for his lack of attention lately? Or was it possible that she had hurt herself, and the money was for something else? Misdirection?

A moment of actual sanity hit him. Sutton’s friends thought he’d hurt her. The police would, too. It was time to talk to the lawyer.

BURN ALL THE LAWYERS

Joel Robinson’s office was three blocks away. Ethan decided to walk. If the lawyer wasn’t there, he’d leave a note. He simply had to move, to get out of the house. Get away from Sutton’s shade, lingering about like a malevolent ghost.

Robinson was short, round, red-nosed, a cheerful Santa Claus with white hair and a long beard. He worked out of the third story of a lovely Victorian on Fifth Avenue that had been converted to individual offices a decade hence. He had no secretary, opting to manage all of his clients in a state of utter secrecy. While they’d been social acquaintances for several years, Ethan never thought he’d grace the man’s professional door. Yet here he was.

Thankfully, said door was unlocked, and Robinson himself was inside. What luck.

Ethan rapped his knuckles on the door frame.

“Joel? Am I interrupting?”

“Ethan. Hello. Just prepping for a case, court later this week. What’s up? You ready to schedule that drink?”

“I was hoping I could buy you lunch. I need to run something by you.”

Robinson cocked his head to the side. “Sorry, no can do today. Client coming in shortly. Why don’t we shoot for tomorrow?”

In his hesitation, something must have shown on Ethan’s face, because Robinson waved a hand and said, “But I have fifteen minutes now. Tell me your troubles.”

Ethan gave a humorless laugh. “It seems my wife has left me. Here’s the note.”

Robinson read it, brow furrowed, then handed it back. “That’s too bad. I always thought the two of you were thick as thieves. Don’t worry yourself too much. With any luck, she’ll see the error of her ways and come home soon.”

“Here’s the issue, Joel. She’s left without her things. No wallet, no phone, no laptop. Fifty thousand is missing from our accounts. On the surface, this all looks standard, I know. But I have a bad feeling. Something’s wrong. She’s been very depressed and upset since our baby...since Dashiell died. My head says she left. My heart is concerned that she’s done something stupid.”

Robinson tapped his fingers on the desk, rhythmic, endless, processing.

“Suicide makes no sense. Why take money? If you’re planning to off yourself, why the cash?”

“Exactly. I agree. Problem is, none of her friends know where she is, and get this, they think I had something to do with her disappearance. They came by to confront me. I could tell by the way they were acting, they’re scared of me. They said if I didn’t call the police they’d do it for me. I don’t—”

A hairy white brow rose, and Robinson held up his hands. “Stop. I don’t want to know.”

“I didn’t—”

“Seriously. Stop. Right now.”

“No. Listen to me. I didn’t hurt my wife. But I think it’s time to call the police. Get out in front of this. Just in case.”

Robinson was shaking his head, eyes closed. “You’re screwed if you do. They will tear your lives apart.”

“I can’t sit around and do nothing. I’m worried about her.”

“Sit down.”

Ethan hesitated for two seconds, then sat.

“Here’s how this is going to go. If you call the police, they will immediately consider you a suspect. Every word you utter will be parsed. Say they find her living it up in Rio, all fine and dandy. But say something has happened to her. God forbid, I know, but if someone has harmed her—”

“God, no. Don’t even say it.”

Robinson sighed. “It’s a terrible thought, I know. But no matter the circumstance, you are going to be turned inside out. They will investigate you until warrants are coming out your ass, and if they find nothing, you’ll be convicted in the media regardless. You know how they love to spin things. Once word gets out on this, you can’t turn back. Have you tried looking for her?”

“Not really. I mean, I’ve been giving her space. She asked me not to look for her. I’m honoring that request.” He sounded prim, like a schoolmarm, and Robinson shook his head again.

“Come on, Ethan. Think. That’s a guilty man’s answer. The media will spin your hesitation into the story. They’ll claim you’ve been buying time, making sure your tracks are covered.”

“What would you have me do then? Lie? Say I’ve been combing the town looking for her? If she left, that makes me look like an abusive asshole.”

“Lose-lose, dude. Sorry.”

“Great. So now what? I go home and wait for her to show up? What if something has happened? They find her dead, and I haven’t reported her missing? Then I do look guilty. You know I have to call them. If I don’t, her friends will. I don’t have a choice.”

“I want to be there.”

Ethan felt a surge of panic. “I was worried you’d say that. If I show up with you by my side, isn’t that going to look even worse?”

“If anything, it will help. I know everyone on the force down here. If I’m there, no one’s going to try and jam you up without cause. They will interrogate the living shit out of you, though, so it’s better if I’m there in case they start off into territory that could get dicey for you later on. I’ll just sit quietly in the corner unless something goes awry. I promise. But you want me there.”

“All right. When do we call?”

Robinson glanced at his watch. “I need to get going. Give me two hours. I’ll meet you at the house at five.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

Robinson stood, shuffling papers into his briefcase. “No thanks needed. I’m just trying to watch your back. Now, for God’s sake, go out and look for her.”

THE TANGLED WEBS WE WEAVE

Ethan took his time going home. He knew he needed to search for Sutton, but he had no idea where to look. Where would she go if she was trying to hide from him? Franklin was a small town. She had no real ties outside of it, no family in California or anything so convenient.

He stopped in the Starbucks, looked around, as if Sutton would be sitting at the table in her favorite corner, writing away. She can’t write here anyway, mate, her laptop’s at the house. A pang in his heart. He sometimes walked up to meet her, days when he couldn’t do his own work. Just a quick hello, popping in for a cuppa, how are you getting on? Though it wasn’t exceptional interest in her work that drove him to seek her out, and she knew it. He didn’t like being far from her for very long. Three hours was enough to make him jittery. Three days felt like a lifetime. Leaving was an effective punishment; she knew how hard he found their separations.