Page 22 of She Didn’t See It Coming

Once the detectives have gone, Paige makes herself a cup of tea and sits on the sofa staring blankly at the wall, going over the interview again in her mind.

She is not going in to work today. Who would expect someone to come to work when their best friend has been murdered?

It’s splashed all over the headlines. They have let her take some personal time.

They’ve told her she can take vacation time too, if she needs it.

Those detectives had put her on the spot; Paige hadn’t realized she’d been so transparent when they spoke to her in Bryden’s condo yesterday. Whatever happens now is out of her control. She wishes this was a book she could put down; she doesn’t want to know what’s going to happen next.

···

Sam, Lizzie, and Clara are back at the apartment. Detective Salter had called Sam and told him the forensics people had finished, that they could return.

Sam finds he is uncomfortable now around Lizzie. She bustles around, trying to entertain Clara. He’s grateful for her help, but at the same time, he feels watched somehow. Perhaps he said too much last night.

He tells himself that she’s on his side.

At least she says she is, but does she have doubts?

Does she think he might have killed Bryden, despite her protestations?

He’s caught her looking at him speculatively.

It makes him think that she knows some secret about Bryden that she hasn’t shared with him.

What is she keeping back? And then it occurs to him, the possibility of betrayal—has she told the detectives something she hasn’t told him?

The easy trust that existed between them when Bryden first went missing changed somehow when her body was discovered.

It looks bad—his suitcase, the storage room, to which he has keys.

His having no alibi. But what they haven’t come up with, so far, is a motive.

That’s what everyone is looking for, he can feel it.

The detectives terrify him. In the middle of the night, unable to sleep, he saw himself convicted and sent to prison.

Before he can think any more about that, there’s a buzz on the intercom. It’s his mother-and father-in-law, wanting in. When they arrive at the door moments later, he lets them in without a word. They have got themselves here by Uber.

Lizzie fusses, getting them coffee, while Sam watches, numb.

Rather than being more rested after the night, everyone seems more exhausted, more depleted, more distressed.

All hope gone. Except Lizzie, who seems to thrive on being needed, and appears to be running on adrenaline.

She is constantly checking her phone. In a bizarre way, Lizzie almost seems to want credit for the discovery of the body.

She has twice mentioned that she’s glad she pushed the detectives to get the K-9 unit to search the building—that if she hadn’t done that, perhaps they would still be looking.

Sam is lost in his own thoughts this morning, barely interacting with his wife’s family.

Still, he slowly becomes aware of his mother-in-law’s eyes on him.

He looks back at her and she quickly looks away.

She’s speculating too, Sam thinks, like Lizzie.

Does Donna think he killed Bryden? He feels a wave of fear and sickness go through him.

Have they talked about him, the three of them?

They might have discussed him in Lizzie’s apartment last night, before she left for the hotel, reeling from the shock of the discovery of Bryden’s body.

What are they thinking about him? What are they saying to the detectives?

He doesn’t trust them. Is this just paranoia, or is he right not to trust them?

Sam realizes he must be careful what he says now, how he acts, in front of them.

They are watching him. Suddenly he wants them all to leave.

He wishes he could get high, just to escape all this for a while, but he doesn’t have anything in the house.

Perhaps he will suggest they all take Clara to the park so he can have a moment to himself.

If he could just have a moment maybe he could think straight.

But no one leaves, and he continues to brood.

Paige soon arrives, and this time Sam lets Lizzie answer the door. He must find out what Paige said to the detectives yesterday. She knew his wife best; if Bryden had secrets, Paige would know.

Lizzie fetches a cup of coffee for Paige, then settles Clara in the den, and they all sit awkwardly in the living room talking in low voices about Bryden, their memories of her, and about Clara, how this will affect her, and about the murder investigation.

It’s almost like an out-of-body experience for Sam.

He is so distraught and sleep-deprived that none of it seems quite real.

More like a dream. He feels uncomfortably warm, feels himself sweating.

Can they tell? He didn’t shower again this morning. He should have.

He surveys the people around him; he has never been less able to read a room.

···

Derek Gardner, on the advice of his attorney, is driving himself to the police station.

The detectives have left ahead of them. Alice, to his annoyance, has insisted on accompanying him to the station, although he tried to dissuade her.

His business attorney has recommended a criminal attorney, Joe Pagett, from their firm, Roten they are not like everybody else.

They are outliers. They both feel so lucky to have found each other.

That’s not to say they always trust each other.

Right now, Alice doesn’t seem to trust him.

She clearly doesn’t believe him when he says he didn’t have anything to do with Bryden Frost. It’s not like he can offer to take a lie-detector test for her, because they both know he can beat one of those.

So can she. They are both expert liars. Both members of Mensa.

They tell each other that they love each other, whatever that is.

They have a partnership based on sex, intellect, ambition, and joint interests.

But love? They don’t really know what that is.

Before they left for the police station, she’d said, “Well?” She’d folded her arms across her chest, still in her silk bathrobe, looking like a film star.

“Alice, I swear on my life, I had nothing to do with this woman. You know you’re the only one for me.”

She studied him, unconvinced. After all, he’d strayed before. But they’d worked that out. They are on the same team now. They can’t betray each other again. They’ve made a commitment. They have made vows that are stronger than marriage vows. Theirs are written in blood.

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” she asked. “Because if you are—”

“I’m not lying to you. I made a promise, remember? I keep my promises.” He kissed her.

All the way to the station, she keeps banging away at him. “If there’s anything I should know, you ought to tell me.”

“There’s nothing you should know.”

“If you might be in any trouble, I can help,” she says.

“I know, but I’m not in any trouble. Trust me.”

“You didn’t kill her and stuff her in a suitcase? Because if you did, just admit it. I might still be able to forgive you.”

“I did not kill her,” he says.

She falls silent and starts scrolling on her phone. She stares intently at something on the small screen. “You lied to me,” she says, her voice chilly. She holds the phone up to his face while he’s driving, and he glances at it.

“What?” he asks.

“That’s her picture. She’s very attractive. You said she wasn’t.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t attractive,” he answers. “I said she wasn’t as attractive as you.”