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He would just have to convince Brittney to leave her husband now and take the three million she’d earned for the three years they’d been married. Maybe...a little extra. Drain a couple of their joint accounts—it wasn’t a crime, right? Not while they were still married.
But he wanted her to leave Logan now. He was tired of sharing the woman he loved with another man.
Brittney had to make some decisions. Because right now, he wasn’t positive he would come away clean after this situation with Desert West. They would need extra money to disappear for a while, in case someone looked too closely at him.
Money made the world go around, and Logan had far more than he needed. And if Brittney didn’t want to take it from him?
Well, maybe they’d have to find another way to take everything Logan Monroe had.
Wednesday
Thirty-Six
Officer Archie Nunez
Nunez pulled up in front of Kris Madera’s house. He lived in a similar cookie-cutter home out in Buckeye, the only place he could afford ten years ago when he and Melinda married. They’d made it their own, and his wife did a great job decorating with lots of color and photos of them and their kid, Sophie, and their large extended family. They’d tried for more kids, but no luck. Still, they were happy, content, and Sophie was the light of their lives.
He’d been thinking about Peter Carillo and his family since he interviewed the man and his friends yesterday morning. He’d have been destroyed if Melinda and Sophie left him, especially if he didn’t know where they’d gone.
Nunez and Ritchie had talked to Natalie Nichols the day before. She had been making calls to neighbors, but admitted most of the calls were to her own friends, because Annie didn’t socialize much. PJ wasn’t in school yet, and Annie was introverted. Her neighbors said the same thing. Annie Carillo was nice, polite, standoffish, attentive to her kids, helpful when asked, and always brought the most delicious desserts to neighborhood parties. Her behavior at the parties? Everyone used the same word: nice. A nice, young, quiet, shy mom.
Nunez had tried to speak with Kris Madera, the woman who ran the book club, but she hadn’t been home yesterday.
Madera’s house looked like the reverse floor plan of the Nichols’ home with more character: a Baby Yoda decal in the front window, balls for every sport littering the front porch, and a basketball hoop installed over the garage door. Nunez knocked on the door and immediately heard someone inside.
A woman in her late thirties opened the door. Nunez introduced himself. “Is there a problem?” she asked, looking out at the street as if expecting to see crime scene tape or a car accident.
“No, ma’am. Do you have a minute? It’s about one of your neighbors.”
“Oh—Annie. Yes, come in. Nat left a voice mail for me, said you might come by. I meant to call her back, but I’ve been swamped getting ready for summer classes. I teach at GCU.” She unlocked her screen door and held it open for them. “Can I get you a bottled water?”
“No, thank you.”
For the record, Nunez confirmed her name and that she lived here with her two minor sons.
“When Nat and Brian married and bought the house, she and I became friendly and I invited her to join my book club. She brought Annie for a while. We actually just drink wine and talk about books and life.” She shrugged, gave him a small smile. “There’s twelve of us in the club, but usually only six or seven come each month. We’re all moms, so life is busy.”
“And you meet here?”
“Usually. I’m divorced, so it’s easy for me to have it here, and Josh—my ex—has the boys every other weekend. Most of the other women have kids younger than mine, so they just want to escape for a couple hours and be with other women, you know?” She raised her eyebrows.
“My wife has a Bunco group. They’ve been playing practically since we got married,” Nunez said.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “We need a few hours with no demands on our time. I love my boys to death, but sometimes—well, anyway. Annie. Nat said she left and no one knows where she is. What can I do?”
“When was the last time you spoke with Annie?”
She thought on it. “Months,” she finally said. “I thought she loved book club, and honestly? She needed it. PJ is a great kid, but she’s with him 24/7. She doesn’t work—not that I think there’s anything wrong with that, it’s great she can stay home with the kids while they’re little, I wish I could have. But we all need a break sometimes, you know? And book club was her only break. I thought she was coming out of her shell.
“Then about the time she announced she was pregnant again, she stopped coming. Nat said she had morning sickness. After Marie was born, I went over there with one of the other girls—Donnell. We brought her a present for the baby, and a stack of books to read for herself. She cried. She said she missed the book club and the gifts were so thoughtful. I told her come back and bring the baby.”
“Did she come?”
“No. She always had an excuse, so I talked to Nat and Nat didn’t really know what was going on, but then Nat can be a little clueless.”
“How so?” he asked. Kris Madera was a wealth of information and clearly didn’t mind talking.
“Not so much clueless, as scattered. She started her own business making specialty oils and vinegars. You know, garlic-infused olive oil and raspberry-flavored vinegar, things like that. It’s good—she goes to local farmer’s markets and craft fairs and sells out. She and Brian have been trying to get pregnant, and I think the business keeps her mind off the fact she’s not.”
