Page 62 of The Perfect Divorce

Hudson nods. “And what time did you leave?”

“Nine fifteen, maybe nine thirty. Not sure on the exact time,” I say.

“How was she when you left?” Hudson asks.

I look to Brad so he’ll know to interject. “My client can’t give you an assessment of Ms. Brooks’s state of mind.”

“Let me rephrase that then. Did she seem okay when you left?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Brad says.

Hudson lets out an exasperated sigh, and Olson cuts in, “Did anything odd or out of the ordinary occur during your appointment?”

“No,” I say, just wanting to get this over with... whateverthisis.

“Did you and Carissa argue at all?”

I answer no again.

“Have you ever argued?”

“No,” I say pointedly.

“Have you and Carissa ever been intimate?” Hudson asks.

“What! No, absolutely not,” I say, incredulous.

Sheriff Hudson twists up his lips. “How did the salon look when you left?”

“The same as when I arrived.”

Brad clears his throat. “My client is a highly respected attorney, and he’s here voluntarily, so with all due respect, Sheriff Hudson and Chief Deputy Olson, can you please get to the point?”

“We’re getting there, Mr. Watson,” Hudson says to Brad and then looks to me. “Mr. Miller, we received a call for a B&E at Cuts by Carissa yesterday morning, and when we arrived, we found that the place had been ransacked. Nothing was taken but there was blood everywhere. Ms. Brooks’s purse, cell phone, and car were all left behind. According to the salon’s appointment schedule, you were Carissa’s last client on Sunday night and presumably the last person to see her.”

My eyes go wide. This can’t be happening. Everything was fine when I left... well, besides Carissa seeming a bit off. Did she know something was coming? Was she expecting someone?

Hudson leans forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the table. “Given your connection to the Stacy Howard disappearance, it seems a bit odd, don’t you think? Two women going missing in the same week and Bob Miller is the last person to see either of them.”

“That is speculative at best. There is no way to prove my client was the last person to see either of those women before they went missing,” Brad argues. He’s animated, sitting forward in his chair and waving off the implication.

“There’s always a way to prove anything, Mr. Watson,” Hudson says coolly.

“My client has already stated that he hadn’t had any communication with Ms. Howard in weeks. If you can prove otherwise, then I’d like to hear it. In terms of Ms. Brooks, having a hair appointment isn’t evidence of anything other than my client having been a customer at the salon, which he already said he was, and you can tell by his hair, he recently had it cut.” Brad motions to me.

The sheriff leans back, places his hands behind his head, and looks to Chief Deputy Olson.

“We found Stacy’s abandoned car,” she says, staring into my eyes. “And inside her car, we found your business card and her cell phone. There were text messages exchanged to a contact labeledBob Miller. Do you know anything about that?”

“What number is connected to that contact in her phone? Is it registered to my client?” Brad lifts his chin.

Hudson deflates slightly and drops his hands. “We’re still looking into that.”

“Exactly,” Brad says. “You’ve got nothing.”

The room quiets while the sheriff and his chief deputy share what appears to be a smug look.Fuck.I know what’s coming. My stomach drops, and my throat dries, making it nearly impossible to swallow.

“But Stacy did text a phone number registered to your client a few weeks ago. Isn’t that right, Bob?” Hudson cocks his head.

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