“Look at this stuff.” Kat touched a fingertip to a smear near a light switch. “This won’t be easy to clean. What is it?”
“I think it’s the graphite they use for fingerprints,” Vince said.
“I can’t believe they would leave such a freakin’ mess. Greg, you’re going to need a cleaning company to get this stuff out,” Kat said.
Greg shut his eyes at the thought of another expense, calculating that the lawyer would cost nearly a thousand dollars for sitting in on his polygraph today then assuring him afterward that police didn’t have enough to charge him with anything.
Didn’t have enough? God, it was horrible. The questions the polygraph examiner asked, stabbing me with accusations. And those pictures...
“Greg?” Vince touched his shoulder. “You gonna be all right?”
“They think I’m involved in Jenn’s disappearance, Dad.”
“What?” Vince said, his eyes raking lightning fast over Greg’s fading scrapes. “That’s stupid. Listen, I watch Dateline. They always suspect the husband or boyfriend first. It’s procedure. You’re smart getting a lawyer so they don’t try to pull anything.”
“What about Sellwin?” Kat said. “Did he come up?”
“Who’s Sellwin?” Vince asked.
Kat flashed her palm to Vince to let Greg answer. “Did you tell them about Sellwin?” she asked again. “You’re on the news confronting him.”
Greg glared at her, shaking his head.
“What about him, Kat? I lost my mind with him because of what you told me. So, he’s a touchy-feely jerk. So what? It proves nothing.”
“Greg, I was trying to help.”
“Do you honestly believe Jenn would do something like that to me and Jake, and with a creep like Sellwin?”
“I’m sorry—I just—”
They heard sounds of Jake moving around upstairs.
“What’s he doing?” Kat said. “I’ll go up.”
“No, I’m sure he’s just glad to be home and is straightening up.” Greg stood and let out a long breath. “Thank you for everything, both of you. I need to think. We’ll be fine. We need time alone tonight, some space.”
Kat and Vince traded looks.
“All right,” Kat said. “We’ll go.”
Greg called for Jake, who came downstairs.
“Aunt Kat and Grandpa are leaving.”
Jake hugged and kissed them.
“We’ll be back in the morning,” Kat said.
“Can you bring some video games, Grandpa?”
“You bet,” Vince said.
After they left, Jake started back upstairs, but Greg stopped him.
“What’re you doing? Cleaning your room? Don’t touch the powder stuff, just leave it.”
“No, Dad. I found something.”
“You found something?”
“Come up and see.”
Greg’s phone rang. “Go ahead, son. I’ll be right up.”
The caller was Al Clayton.
“Got your message to call, Greg. How you holding up?”
“Al, did police talk to you?”
Seconds passed. Clayton didn’t answer so Greg prompted him.
“Two investigators? Kozak and Carillo?”
“They told me not to say anything. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“Dammit, Al. They had me take a polygraph. You gotta help me here.”
Clayton dropped his voice.
“They asked about Brooke. They showed me pictures of her, with her hand on you in the Mulberry that night in Depew.”
Greg cursed.
“I said she hung out with us and that’s all I know,” Clayton said.
“Where did they get those pictures?”
“Damned if I know.”
Greg took a moment, digesting matters before he asked Clayton the status of the job.
“Did you get the concrete poured for nine-seventy-five and nine-seventy six?”
“We did. I told you we’re on schedule but—”
“But what, Al?”
“I think you should be more concerned about Jenn.”
Greg bit his bottom lip.
“Thanks, Al. Keep me posted.”
As soon as Greg ended Al’s call, he got another one. The number was blocked. Still, he answered.
“Is this Greg Griffin, husband of Jennifer Griffin, the missing woman?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“Tina Thomas, a reporter with FirstWitness News.”
“How’d you get this number?”
“It was passed to me by a source.”
Anger and anxiety pulsed through him. Did they find Jenn? The reporter could have information he needed.
“Sir, we have a crew in front of your house. Would you agree to an on-camera interview?”
“About what?” Greg thought about going to the window but dismissed it, envisioning footage of him looking like a guilty man under siege.
“Would you agree, sir?”
“I agree to nothing unless you tell me what you know.”
“One moment.”
Silence on the line. Greg figured Tina Thomas was consulting with another person.
“Sir,” Thomas said when she came back, “we understand search warrants were executed at your house and you’ve taken a polygraph. Have police indicated if you’re a suspect in your wife’s disappearance?”
White flashed through his brain.
“No comment.”
Greg hung up, sat on the stairs, holding his head in his hands, feeling the walls closing in, his mind swirling, first with his suspicions of Brooke Bollman.
Is she after me, my business? Does she want Jenn out of the picture? Does she want it all? I could call her, find out what police told her. No, I’m entangled in this with her texts, the flirting, and the photos. I was considering following through on Brooke’s offer just before Jenn vanished. And how did police get those pictures at the Mulberry? Did Brooke have a friend take them to set me up? Why does she have a lawyer?
Greg recalled that maybe—I’m not certain—but maybe he saw someone else at the bar that night. A glimpse of someone at another table, but who? Who was it? He racked his brain but couldn’t remember.