Page 45 of The Arrangement
Officer Andrews scribbled something down while Officer Chad pressed on. “Is your husband here, by any chance? We’d love to get his take on a few things.”
“He’s not at the moment. He stepped out for a bit. Would you like me to call him and have him come home? It shouldn’t take long for him to get here.”
“Well, we’ll get to that, but first, do you still have the messages between you and Officer De Luca? To give us some proof that what you’re saying is true.”
“Sure,” I said, reaching over to the side table and pulling out my phone. I opened the Dater app and searched for his profile. As soon as I did, my heart sank. He was gone. His profile had disappeared.
My throat grew dry.
Then, with a wave of relief, I remembered that I had blocked him. I went to my settings and found him, hoping and praying that unblocking him would bring our old messages back up.
To my relief, it did. Once I could see the messages again, I held the phone out to the officers. “It starts here,” I said, pointing to the conversation. “You can see where we first started talking, when he suggested we go out to eat, a message before we got there to say he was excited. Then, that night, he sent me a message to say he’d had a nice time and hoped to see me again. I didn’t respond. Then, if you scroll down, you’ll see the other messages he sent me. He said he was thinking about me, said he’d hoped to go out again soon. Asked if he could call me. Then, when I still wasn’t answering, the messages started coming more and more.” I scrolled down, through the intense, incessant messages until we reached the end. The last message I had from him.
I’m outside. I need to see you.
The officers read through the messages, scrolling back up and reading them again. Officer Chad handed the phone back to me, clearing his throat. He appeared shaken. “And there are no other messages?”
“No. I didn’t give him my phone number. Although, now that I think about it, I did have a few missed calls from a blocked number during the time he was messaging me, and I haven’t had any since. Do you think those could’ve been him?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “We’ve been combing through his phone records, so we can find out.”
I nodded. “I don’t understand what he wanted from me. The date was mediocre at best.”
The officers looked grim but didn’t respond right away.
“Mrs. Greenburg, why didn’t you contact us when you’d heard the news? You obviously knew that this information could’ve helped our investigation,” Officer Chad said.
My heart fluttered. “To be honest, I was worried about it all coming out. Our marital issues. Seeing other people. It’s embarrassing. I didn’t want my kids to find out…or our coworkers, our friends. And, like I said, I truly don’t have very much information at all.” I hung my head. “That’s no excuse, I know. It was wrong. I should’ve come forward. Under any other circumstances, I would have. But I’ve told you everything I know now.”
When I looked back up, they were watching me carefully, waiting to see if I’d say more. I cleared my throat.
“Do you still want me to call my husband?”
The wrinkle on Officer Andrews’ forehead deepened as he leaned forward over his knees. “I don’t think it’ll be necessary, but if either of you do remember something else from that night, or from any of your other communications with Stefan De Luca, could you let us know?”
“Of course,” I said. Officer Andrews held out a business card, and I tucked it into my pocket. “Thank you.”
The men stood, making their way toward the door. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get going now and out of your hair.”
“I hope you find him,” I offered sadly. “I hope he’s okay.”
They didn’t turn around or respond as they continued out the door, and once they were pulling away, I waved casually. A few moments later, I saw Peter driving down the driveway, incredibly thankful he’d stayed gone long enough for me to get through the interview.
He’d surely have blown it.
I stepped outside and stuck my hands in my pockets, running the card between my fingers. If I needed them, I could call. I laughed to myself, tapping my foot on the wood of the porch. I could handle things just fine on my own.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
PETER
When I got home, I was exhausted. My body was sore, my mind fuzzy and angry. I needed to sleep. I needed to shower off the crazy of the day. I walked through the garage, into the house, and up the stairs. Ainsley was standing in the hall with a strange expression on her face.
She didn’t speak, didn’t ask what I’d been up to. Perhaps she suspected she knew. Either way, I had no desire to recount the events of the night for her.
I walked into the bathroom and stripped out of my clothes, turning on the shower. After a few minutes, I heard the door open again and saw her walk inside through the beveled glass of the shower door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked over the noise of the shower.