“Yes.”
“Are you the quarterback for the Buffalo Bills?”
“No.”
“Do you reside in Trailside Grove?”
“Yes.”
Vera took one second, studying the graphs on her laptop.
“Is your wife missing?”
Greg caught his breath.
“Yes.”
“Did you report her missing?”
“Yes.”
“Did several hours pass before you realized she was missing and your call to police?”
“Yes.”
“Did you first search for her before calling police?”
“Yes.”
“Were you the only person searching for her for several hours?”
“Yes.”
“Did you enter the Korner Fast outlet in Ripplewood Creek the night she was missing?”
“Yes.”
“Did you enter the Korner Fast outlet in Ripplewood Creek more than once the night she was missing?”
What does that mean? Where’re they headed?
“Your response?”
“No.”
Vera made a notation.
“Do you own a hoodie?”
A hoodie?
“Yes.”
“Is it light in color?”
“No.”
“Dark?”
“Yes.”
“Were you wearing your hoodie the first night you searched for your wife?”
I can’t remember. I don’t know.
“I don’t know.”
Vera made a notation.
“Did you injure your hands the night your wife was missing?”
“Yes.”
“Was the injury due to removing a traffic cone from under your vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware your wife had bruises on her neck and wrists the night she went missing?”
Jenn’s bruises?
Greg swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever struck your wife?”
“No.”
“Have you ever abused your wife?”
“No.”
“Did you give her the bruises seen on her neck and arms?”
Greg hesitated.
“But they were from playing football in the yard,” he said.
“Yes or no, please, Greg.”
“Yes.”
Vera made a notation.
“Did you argue with your wife about financial matters in the time leading up to her disappearance?”
Beads of sweat formed on Greg’s brow.
“Yes.”
“Do you hold a life insurance policy on your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Is the death benefit three hundred thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the beneficiary?”
“Yes.”
Greg heard movement behind him, and Vera reached for a tablet handed to her by one of the investigators. Vera used it to show Greg a photograph of a woman.
“Do you recognize this woman?”
It was a closely cropped photo of Brooke Bollman in a bar. Greg’s stomach lurched. Cold sweat webbed down his back.
“Greg, do you recognize this woman?”
He swallowed hard.
“Yes.”
“Do you know this woman?”
“Yes.”
“Is she Brooke Bollman?”
“Yes.”
Vera cued up another photo of Greg sitting next to Bollman.
“Is this you with Brooke Bollman?”
“Yes.”
Vera moved to the other photos of Bollman’s hand under the table on Greg in the vicinity of his crotch, both of them smiling at each other.
Staring at it, Greg’s scalp stung, ice coiled up his spine.
Where did they get this photo? Who gave it to them?
“Was this photo taken at the Mulberry Bar in Depew the night your wife went missing?”
Tears brimmed in Greg’s eyes.
“Yes.”
Vera swiped at the tablet with the photos, then showed Greg a text.
Think about it Greg. We’d be great together.
“Do you recall receiving this text from Brooke Bollman the night your wife was missing?”
“Yes.”
“Have you had discussions with Brooke Bollman about entering into a business partnership after she had won a substantial settlement from a construction firm arising from their negligence and an accident on a job site in Lackawanna?”
Greg swallowed hard.
“Yes.”
“Are you now, or have you in the past, engaged in sexual relations with Brooke Bollman?”
Greg hesitated.
He’d been tempted to act on Brooke’s offer, so tempted, but something echoed in him, taking him to that day he saw Jenn crying alone in high school.
Who’d be stupid enough to break that girl’s heart? I couldn’t do that to Jenn with Brooke. I couldn’t bear hurting her and Jake. I’d forever be a liar in his eyes. I took a vow to love only Jenn. What it came down to, and what I came to realize over the years, is that when I saw Jenn that day in school, I was watching over, and preparing to love, my wife.
“Greg, are you now, or have you in the past, engaged in sexual relations with Brooke Bollman?”
“No.”
Vera made a notation.
“Have you ever driven your wife’s Toyota Corolla?”
“Yes.”
“Is your wife’s height five feet three inches?”
“Yes.”
“Is your height six feet?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need to push back the driver’s seat in your wife’s Toyota Corolla when you drive it?”
“Yes.”