Page 55 of The Perfect Divorce

“That B&E is looking more like a possible 187.”

Shit. Just when things didn’t seem like they could get any worse. “Sorry, but we’re gonna have to cut this short,” I say, already standing from my seat. “I appreciate your cooperation today, Sarah, and we’ll be in touch if we have any additional questions.”

“I’m a very busy woman, Sheriff, so I would appreciate a heads-up the next time you decide to drop in,” she says, already averting her attention back to her computer.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nod and turn to leave with Olson in step right behind me.

In the elevator, I press the button labeledLobby.When the doors close, I ask, “What do ya think?”

“Sarah’s a real treat.” Olson smirks.

“I warned you about her. She’s tough.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Ya know, the timing of Sarah’s story does align with Bob’s, but it still leaves his whereabouts before seven thirty p.m. and after nine unverified, so he has opportunity there.”

“But we don’t know the exact time Stacy went missing either. We could assume it was shortly after five, while she was in the vicinity of her home, which was her last known location based on cell records, or perhaps it was later in the night and her phone died or was shut off,” Olson says.

“True. Well, we’ve got eyes on Bob as of this morning, so hopefully we get a lead there.”

“I did find one thing strange about Sarah’s interview.”

I tilt my head. “And what’s that?”

“She didn’t ask how Stevens died.” Olson raises a brow.

“Huh?”

“You told her Stevens was dead, and Sarah’s first response was to insinuate that his death was convenient for our office. She wasn’t shocked in the slightest.”

“So, you think Sarah already knew Ryan had been murdered,” I say.

“It sure seemed that way, and the only way Sarah would know is?—”

“If she was tipped off,” I interject.

“Or she was a part of it,” Olson offers.

THIRTY

BOB MILLER

My knee bounces twice for every second that passes. I’m seated in a small reception area outside my boss Kent’s office, waiting for him to summon me. He called last night, requesting that I speak with him first thing in the morning. He said he wanted to discuss something, and it needed to be done in person. I’m not sure what it could be about. I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit MIA recently—but my junior team’s been on top of everything. Nothing has slipped through the cracks. I’ve made sure of that.

Kent’s admin, Candace, eyes me with disdain from her desk. She wears a sour look like she’s been sucking on a lemon, but that’s just her face and attitude. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came out of the womb frowning, disappointed that the room wasn’t the right temperature or that the doctor didn’t have designer skincare products on the hands he was pulling her out with. Her last name is Williamson, as in Williamson, Miller & Associates—but it’s her uncle’s name on the building, not hers. My name’s up there too, but it comes after Williamson and, apparently, after nepotism as well.

I push up my sleeve, checking the time on my Rolex. I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes already, so I know this isn’t going to be a good chat.Kent likes to make people wait when he’s pissed at them. It’s one of his power plays. Sweat it out and marinate in all of the possibilities that could be coming, make you think about every bad thing you’ve ever done and how Kent could have found out about it. But I truly don’t know what I’m supposed to be thinking about.

“Do you know how much longer he’ll be?” I ask.

Candace looks to me, squinting. “I don’t,” she says, dropping her chin to refocus on her work.

“Could you check?”

She sighs, lifting her head back up as if it’s the greatest physical feat a human has ever accomplished. “He’ll see you when he’s ready to see you.” She seals her comment with a smirk.

Candace turns her attention to her cell phone, angling her body away from me. I whisperbitchunder my breath.

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