The Last Thing He Told Me by Laura Dave (ebook reader ink .txt) 📕

is in there, especially considering what is going on, but I relax when I open it. The will is dated shortly after our wedding. He has shown me this will before. And nothing has changed. Or almost nothing. I see a small note on the bottom of the last page of the will above Owen’s signature. Was that there before and I didn’t notice it? It names his conservator, someone I’ve never heard of. L. Paul. No address. No phone number.

L. Paul. Who is this person—and where have I seen his or her name before?

I’m making a note about L. Paul in my notebook when I hear a female voice behind me.

“Learn anything interesting?”

I turn to see an older woman standing at the edge of my backyard, a man standing next to her. She is put together in a navy pantsuit, her gray hair pulled back tight in a ponytail. The man is less put together, with heavy eyelids, a wrinkled Hawaiian shirt, and a thick beard that makes him look older than she is, even though I suspect he is closer to my age.

“What are you doing back here?” I say.

“We tried ringing the front bell,” the man says. “Are you Hannah Hall?”

“I’d like a better answer as to why you’re trespassing on my property before I tell you that,” I say.

“I’m Special Agent Jeremy O’Mackey from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and my colleague here is Special Agent Naomi Wu,” he says.

“Call me Naomi. We were hoping we could talk with you?”

Instinctively, I close the computer. “It’s actually not a great time,” I say.

She gives me a sticky-sweet smile. “It’ll just take a few minutes,” she says. “Then we’ll get out of your hair.”

They are already walking up the stairs onto the deck, sitting down in the chairs on the other side of the small table.

Naomi pushes her badge across the table, Agent O’Mackey does the same.

“I hope we aren’t interrupting anything important,” Naomi says.

“I hope you didn’t follow me here, that’s what I hope,” I say.

Naomi takes me in, looking more than a little surprised at my tone. I’m too irritated to care. I’m irritated and more than a little worried they’ll demand to take Owen’s computer before I figure out what it has to tell me.

There’s also this. I’m thinking of Grady Bradford’s warning: Don’t answer any questions you think you shouldn’t answer. I’m bracing myself to heed it.

Jeremy O’Mackey reaches forward, takes his badge back.

“I assume you’re aware that we’re in the process of investigating the technology firm where your husband works?” he says. “We were hoping you could shed some light on his current whereabouts?”

I put the computer in my lap, protecting it.

“I’d like to, but I have no idea where my husband is. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“Isn’t that odd?” Naomi says, as if this has just occurred to her. “To not have seen him?”

I meet her eyes. “Very, yes.”

“Would you be surprised to learn that your husband hasn’t used his cell phone or any of his credit cards since yesterday? No paper trail at all,” she says.

I don’t answer her.

“Do you know why that might be?” O’Mackey says.

I don’t like the way they’re looking at me, like they’ve already decided I am keeping something from them. It is another reminder I don’t need that I only wish I were.

Naomi pulls a notepad from her pocket, flipping open a page.

“We understand you’ve been in business with Avett and Belle Thompson?” she says. “They have commissioned one hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars of work from you over the last five years?”

“I don’t know off the top of my head if that’s the correct amount. But, yes, they are clients.”

“Have you spoken to Belle since Avett’s arrest yesterday?” she says.

I consider the messages I left on her voice mail. Six of them. Messages that have gone unreturned. I shake my head no.

“She hasn’t called you?” he says.

“No,” I say.

She tilts her head, considers. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure who I’ve spoken to and who I haven’t spoken to.”

Naomi leans forward, toward me, like she is my friend. “We just want to make sure you’re telling us everything. As opposed to your friend Belle.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say it didn’t help her proclamation of innocence that she made it after purchasing four flights to Sydney from different Northern California airports in an attempt to leave the country undetected. It doesn’t scream I know nothing, does it?”

I’m careful not to react. How is this happening? How is Avett in jail and Belle trying to sneak off to her former home? And how is Owen nowhere to be found in the middle of it all? Owen who is smart, who often sees the whole picture. Do I really believe he missed so much of this picture?

“Did Belle discuss The Shop with you?” Naomi asks.

“She never said anything to me about Avett’s work,” I say. “Belle wasn’t interested.”

“That mirrors what she said to us.”

“Where is Belle now?”

“At her St. Helena home with her passport in her lawyer’s possession. She’s maintaining her position that she’s shocked to think her husband would be guilty of this wrongdoing,” he says. He pauses. “But in our experience the wife usually knows.”

“Not this wife,” I say.

Naomi chimes in, almost as if I haven’t answered them. “As long as you’re sure,” she says. “Someone has to think of Owen’s daughter.”

“I am.”

“Good,” she says. “Good.”

It sounds like a threat. And I hear what she is pretending not to say. I hear her insinuation that they could take Bailey away. Didn’t I have Grady’s assurance that they wouldn’t?

“We will need to talk to Bailey as well,” O’Mackey says. “When she returns from school today.”

“You will not be talking to her,” I say. “She knows nothing about her father’s whereabouts. She’s to be left alone.”

O’Mackey matches my tone. “I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” he says. “We can set up a time now or we can just show up at your house later