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“I know a predator when I see one.”

“He’s not a predator! I don’t need to control him. He treated Jordan with absolute respect.”

“Are you going to keep him away from her, or not? Do we need a restraining order?”

“A restraining order would made it almost impossible for him to leave our house. You’re being unfair.” I had no idea why I’d said that. The restrictions weren’t the point. Patrick hadn’t gone anywhere near Jordan. When he had, he’d helped calm her overwrought grief and freed her trapped foot.

“I’m protecting my daughter. Are you going to respect my wishes?”

“He hardly even spoke to her.”

She crossed her arms and took one step toward me. “You don’t know what he says when you’re not around.”

A chill ran through my entire body. It was so strong, it was almost painful. Was she just trying to upset me? Or had Patrick said something, done something, to cause this? I couldn’t imagine it. He was respectful and polite to everyone. I’d never heard him say anything inappropriate or even rude. Had I? What had Jordan told her about my husband?

Without acknowledging her attack on Patrick’s character, and my own knowledge of my husband’s behavior, implying I didn’t know him and that I was unaware of what he was doing behind my back, I turned away. I felt undignified with the canvas bag hitting my hip as I walked back to our house.

Inside, I left the bag on the kitchen counter and went up to our bedroom. Patrick wasn’t there, which I was glad about. I needed a few minutes to think. I kicked off my sandals and stretched out on the bed. I closed my eyes, resting my hands on my belly.

But I couldn’t think. What Linda had implied made no sense. It felt like a lie. In my gut, I knew Patrick hadn’t said anything offensive to Jordan. But the moment that thought faded, I started worrying again. Patrick hadn’t been himself the past few days. And I had no idea what they’d talked about while he helped bury the rabbits. Maybe he had said or done something perceived as offensive, something that was offensive.

I’d never felt so disconnected from my husband. Most of the time, he was avoiding me. I knew he was upset that I’d sided with Emily and Keith, but he seemed to be taking it as proof I was morally deficient, or that I’d chosen them over him, lies over truth. But it wasn’t like that.

I just couldn’t tell him about my friendship with Todd. He would never understand. The fact that I’d met with Todd quite a few times, shared my life with him and never mentioned it, would hurt Patrick deeply. I hadn’t meant it to be that way, but things just unfolded and suddenly I was in a unique friendship, hiding it from everyone I knew. We connected over our common childhood wounds that we couldn’t quite move past. There was nothing else to it, so when our friendship started, it didn’t seem important that I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.

Now, I felt like I’d told the biggest lie of my life and I had no idea how to get out of it. Even if I did tell Patrick, even if he did believe me, I still didn’t think the sheriff’s deputy, or whoever they sent to investigate a murder, would take my word. They’re suspicious by nature. Keith and Emily were one hundred percent right about that.

If the sheriff’s office didn’t think I’d killed Todd, they might turn on Patrick. They’d assume it was an affair and that Patrick was enraged with jealousy.

It all made my head hurt. Even the cool pillow beneath my head had stopped providing comfort.

I got up and straightened the bed. I stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my cheeks. I patted my face dry, brushed my hair, and went looking for Patrick. I found him standing beside the pool looking at his phone.

I spoke his name softly. Too softly, because he didn’t look up. “Patrick.”

He turned.

“What are you doing?”

“I was trying to find out what’s involved with draining a pool. It’s a lot of water and I’m not sure you can just pump it out. I’m trying to decide if we need a pro to take care of it. But of course, we can’t tell them it potentially has skin cells and hairs from a dead body, can we?”

I sighed.

He tucked his phone into his pocket. “It’s hot. I want to go for a swim, but I guess I’ll have to brave the sub-sixty-degrees of the lake.”

“We need to talk. We’ve been drifting around like strangers.”

“You’re the stranger.”

I wasn’t going to let him drag me off into talking about my moral deficiency. “Linda kind of attacked me this morning.”

“Like your best friend’s husband attacked me?”

I guess I was going to be discussing that first. “Can’t you see even a little bit that he’s really afraid of law enforcement? He had a horrible experience. Things like that, especially when you’re young can⁠—”

“There has to be more to it than that.”

“Usually you’re so compassionate.” I put my hand on his arm. “You’re always there for people. Can’t you overlook what he did? Or put it behind you?”