Page 35 of Happy Wife

“Exactly,” Este agrees.

I walk past Este to try to catch Mia, who’s headed for the door. “Mia, hey, I didn’t know you were coming. How are you?”

She stops in the foyer and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah. Fair.”

It’s a weird thing being the second wife who is only fourteen years older than the kid. I never know what role I am trying to fill. Big sister? Stepmom? Fairy godmother? Mostly, I really like Mia and think she’s caught in a tricky situation between parents of a busted marriage. I try to send a lifeline where I can.

“You know you can come over anytime you want, right? Your dad doesn’t have to be home for you to come hang out. I put the snacks you like in the fridge by the pool.”

“Thanks. That’s—”

A car horn blows from the driveway.

“Sorry, my mom’s outside, so…” She thumbs in the direction of the door.

“Can I just ask…how did you get your sweatshirt back? Did your dad drop it off?”

She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“The other night, he said…” I take a breath, not wanting to sound like I’m accusing her of anything. “Did you call about leaving that sweatshirt on the boat the night of his birthday?”

“No. I would never leave this sweatshirt anywhere.” She gives herself and the sweatshirt a little hug. “I stayed up making TikToks with Katie that night.”

Mia never called Will. Dean Morrison is dead. And Will is stillMIA. I look around the house, and it’s suddenly unrecognizable. Like I might be in an alternate universe.

The car horn honks again. This time, it sounds for so long I get a mental image of Constance putting her entire body weight against the steering wheel. My nerves are so frayed I jump about a mile. Mia just rolls her eyes in her mother’s direction.

“See you later,” she says and reaches for the door.

She leaves me standing in the foyer like she hasn’t just dropped a bombshell on me.

If she never called Will that night, then who the hell did?

Chapter17

As Constance and Mia pull away, I get a call from a number that readsWinter Park Policeon the caller ID. I’m buoyed by the vague hope that they’ve found Will, and this bullshit bad dream can be over now.

“What is it?” Este asks.

I show her the phone screen and then answer.

“This is Nora.” My voice is shaky, and it catches as I say my name.

“Hey, Nora. Detective Ardell here. Was hoping you have a minute to swing by the station to look at something?”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.” I hang up the phone.

“What the hell was that?”

“Detective Ardell wants me to come look at something at the station. Can you take me?”

“Obviously. Also, don’t call him detective. He’s a man-child playing dress-up. Plus, he’s plowed half the women in this town. It’s just Ardell.”

“He is a community servant.”

“Well, he certainly services some people.” Este lets out one of her low cackles, but I can’t find the energy to laugh.