His Missing Wife by Jaime Hendricks (nice books to read .TXT) 📕

Gwen sunk her face into her hands, and when she looked up, her eyes were misty.

“She never told me any of that.”

James could barely hear her voice.

“She didn’t tell me a lot of things either,” James said. “That’s why I can’t piece together what’s going on. Did she ever tell you her ex-husband’s name?”

“No. She didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I think I’m in some real trouble because of what you said about the gun. You made it sound like I threatened Tessa. I’d never do that. I just wanted to protect her.” James felt like if he said it enough, he’d drill it into her head. She needed to know the truth. “It’s gone. I told the cops I never had a gun,” he said, speaking to her now like a neighbor. A friend. “Is there any way you can tell them you misunderstood what Tessa said to you?”

Her eyes went wide. “You want me to lie?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” James’s eyes closed tightly and he pinched the top of his nose. “I just wish I knew something. Anything. I want to find her, Gwen.”

She put her hand on top of his, a gesture that went further than she knew. It comforted him and showed that she was back on his side.

“There’s one thing she complained about.”

James opened his eyes and looked at her. “What?”

“That girl in your office. Rosalita?”

“Rosita. What about her?”

“Yeah. Rosita. She thought there was something going on. At least that Rosita was after you.”

This wasn’t the time or the place to go into what had happened between him and Rosita and he wouldn’t offer any information. This was now a fact-finding mission on his part. “Why would she think that?”

“Because Rosita threatened her.”

“Threatened her?” His face flushed, and he balled his hands into fists. How dare she?

“Yeah. It was in the beginning. Right after you got married.”

“What did she say? Tessa never told me this.”

“Something about you and her and your job.”

“Gwen, please. I need to know exactly what was said. It’s important. Think.”

Gwen’s eyes went up and she bit her bottom lip in thought.

“Right. It was after you got promoted to manager. At the celebration party. She told Tessa that the job should’ve been hers, and that she better watch her back.”

James was incredulous. “Are you kidding? Right before that is when Rosita—”

Stop.

Nope. He couldn’t tell Gwen what he knew about Rosita and how hard she tried to get that job.

But he was certainly going to confront Rosita.

19

Tessa

I called James at work a few days after the incident, once my face healed enough where I could cover up the really bad parts. He seemed delighted, and there was additional pep in his voice when I told him it was me, as if I could even see him sitting up straighter. Extra caring, he asked me how I was doing and again told me he’d go to the cops with me to file a complaint. Said he moved all his furniture into storage the night before and was officially staying at the hotel until he could find another place, as quickly as possible.

I’m meeting him for a drink after work today, and he said he’ll help me around town trying to get a job. When I told him I was an “interior designer” he said he’ll let people coming in for business loans know to contact me if they need a push in the right direction. So I should go online and get some business cards. I hear they’re pretty cheap nowadays.

First, I google Drew, and for the first time, his name pops up with a headline:

LOCAL HEDGE FUND PROFESSIONAL UNDER SUSPICION FOR MISSING WIFE

A-ha!

I click the link and read the blurb.

Local citizen Drew Grant, of Homer & Foster Financial, has recently come under suspicion in the disappearance of his wife, Tessa Smith. Married for four years, she went missing almost a week ago, yet Drew never reported it to the police.

“She’d run off for spa weekends without telling me. I thought it was the same thing,” Drew said when asked by reporters camped out in front of Homer & Foster in Wilmington, Del.

He said when she didn’t return home by Monday night, Drew tried her cell phone and found it disconnected. He then called the local station and asked to open up a missing persons case. When questioned about the delay, Drew waved us off with “no comment.”

Initial reports say blood was found at the scene. All inquiries should be directed to his lawyer, Kristina McMahon of McMahon, Stern, and Torelli.

Detective Mason Grenning is leading the case. Please call with any tips or email the police department.

I’m sorry? Running off for spa weekends? This Asshole has got to be kidding me. I call Maribel’s fake cell from the burner phone. I wonder why she didn’t let me know about this breakthrough. When I get the automated voicemail, I hang up. She’s probably with him, like we planned. Either they’re in his office playing footsie, or he’s got her at some extravagant lunch at that place he likes by the river.

Waiting for Maribel to call back, I go online and order business cards, impressed with the selection on the website. They have my name, one of my burner cell numbers, and a website I called TS5Designs.com, which I’ll have to do next. The title Interior Designer is in fancy script and I like the way it looks. I opted for the thicker stock with a swanky border, in yellow and gray—a combination I now love. When I approve the layout, it makes me feel accomplished. Grounded. Whole.

I already sense things taking a turn for the better. Even a slight taste of the good life with Drew makes me want to do better. He made sure I was invested and felt taken care of before he put his fists on me. One year of seeing what life could be like has set me up for my future.

I guess I should thank him for that.

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