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

twenty minutes but felt like twenty years of more baby info dump when Robert showed up early too, Thank God. James had already heard all about the baby, the baby’s different cries, the baby’s nursery of giraffes, the baby being ahead of schedule on her sleep cycle—you name it. He almost couldn’t wait to talk about being perceived as a murderer.

Robert was already dressed in his expensive suit and shoes, and James again felt ridiculous for looking like he’d just come from the gym. Robert and Bella exchanged pleasantries, and Robert plunked down the bag of bagels and cream cheese he’d brought. Bella politely refused, probably because GMOs, but James was thankful for something to eat. He offered Robert coffee, and then the three of them sat at the kitchen table, looking at each other, all waiting for someone else to take charge.

“If I advise my client not to answer a question, that’s the end of the story,” Robert started. “You will not press for further details.”

“Right! Okay,” Bella said, then dug into her purse and pulled out a small recording device. “I’m going to record this so nothing gets lost in translation. Are we all cool with that?”

“It’s preferable,” Robert said. “Lost in translation goes both ways.”

Bella fumbled with the recorder, a small, slim little thing that James could’ve hid in the palm of his hand. “Sorry! This is my husband’s, and I’m not really sure how to work it. He just got it and of course I had to deal with the sitter this morning and he already left for work, and I couldn’t find the directions. The baby needed a change, and I wanted to do that really quick—I like to be a hands-on mom, you know, I don’t leave everything to the nanny—and then I had to calm her down before I left. Screaming babies! Anyway, it looks easy.” She points to the small buttons on the side. “Play, next, record, delete. Easy. Am I right?”

“Then hit record,” Robert said with an edge, Bella clearly testing his patience in only two minutes.

“Right. Here we go!” She hit the record button and immediately transformed into a reporter. Her voice softened and she talked slowly, enunciating her words. “I’m Bella Johnson from the Valley Lake Blaze, and I’m sitting here with accused murderer James Montgomery. There is much speculation in the media about the events that transpired last Thursday night, when his wife Tessa Smyth went missing. She’s still missing, but unfortunately, another body was found a few days later, that of his coworker Rosita Morales. James has been accused of her murder. Do you have anything you want to say, Mr. Montgomery?”

Robert nodded at him. Go time.

James first told the story about how he and Tessa met. All the details, excluding names, on Robert’s direction. Bella pressed, and Robert cut in with a swift move on, with a hand gesture to go with it. James made sure to talk about Tessa, and the things he loved about her—Robert had mentioned earlier to say her name as many times as possible, so whoever had her could connect to the fact that she was a real person. So, he did—spoke of her mystery, her heart, her ability to love James and even their dog, Candy, after what was apparently a rough upbringing. Bella nodded along, even wiping a tear once or twice. He wasn’t sure if hers were real or if she was playing concerned reporter, but his tears were real. Talking so intimately and in such detail reminded him of things he’d forgotten—the way she’d always burn eggs but could master a soufflé, how many times she’d made him watch Legally Blonde, how she’d liked her wine ice cold. Little things that tugged on his heart daily, but more so now, talking about it. It felt like a eulogy and that terrified him.

He made sure to keep his story about Rosita quick and professional. He didn’t want to seem too personal there, since he was also accused in the media of having an affair with her. Jesus, wherever Tessa was being held, he hoped she didn’t see those accusations or worse, believe them.

When they wrapped up, Robert handed his card to Bella and said any follow-up would have to be arranged through him.

“Great! I understand. Let me get you my card,” Bella said, opening her purse. Then, like a frenetic teenager, she took things out hurriedly, one by one. Makeup bag, phone, pens, wallet—and dumped them on the kitchen table. “Jesus! Where is my card case?” More stuff went flying—tissues, a rogue lipstick, keys. “Son of a—! Of course I forgot it. I probably left it on the bassinet or near the changing table. This is what I get for rushing and trying to be supermom! Going back to work was really hard.”

“Right.” Robert stood up and extended his hand. “Just email me your info and a copy of this interview at your earliest convenience. I’ll walk you to the door.”

Candy started to bark again as they walked into the hallway. James was bewildered at Robert playing host, hurriedly ushering her to the door. It slammed shut a minute later. Robert came back into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

“I know. She talks a lot,” James said. “That could be good for me, no?”

“No. Not at all. Something bothered me as soon as I got here.”

James’s heart sunk. “Oh?”

“When I pulled in, I noticed her plates had a Hertz Rent-A-Car holder. I took a picture of the plate.”

“Huh.” James didn’t make the connection. “What does that have to do with anything? Maybe her car is in the shop.”

“Fine. I thought that too. But this last scene sealed it for me.”

“What scene?”

“Dumping out her bag. All the talk about the baby. But there were no baby wipes, bottles, diaper rash balm—nothing that an obsessed ‘supermom’ would carry.”

“Maybe she separated her work bag from her personal one?”

“Hang on. I’m going to make a quick call. Can I use your office?”

“Sure.”

Robert went into the