Nothing was missing.
I walked through the house with two detectives. One was tall and the other was medium height, maybe an inch taller than me. Each was in his mid-forties, or so I guessed based on how haggard they looked. They had beady eyes and hawk-like focus centered right on me. It was uncomfortable, but I was relieved to find nothing gone.
I had taken everything that had sentimental value with me when I moved, I explained. Nothing left was particularly important to me, but it was still a relief to know I hadn’t been robbed.
And true to Cole’s word, when the detectives began to question me, a police officer came and directed Sia away. I couldn’t hear the reason he gave her, but she threw me a confused look and followed him from the room.
I was ready. The hard questions were coming now.
“You’re sure, Mrs. Sailer, that nothing is missing?”
“You can call me Addison.”
“You don’t go by your married name anymore?” The taller one cocked his head to the side. He had introduced himself as Reyes. I tried to remember the other one…maybe Smythe?
“I go by Addison.”
Smythe, or whatever his name was, asked, “Is there a reason for that? Usually when people change their names, there’s a reason. They’re seeing someone new, or they don’t want to be associated with the old name. Anything like that?”
I knew what he was asking, but I didn’t react, despite the irritation starting to boil inside me. “My husband died over a year ago. I guess I’m slowly getting used to being just Addison right now. What does that have to do with someone breaking into my house?”
“We’re just trying to understand your circumstances, find a connection or motive that might explain this,” Reyes said smoothly.
“So, you think this is my fault?” I countered. Unbelievable.
They ignored me.
Reyes gestured over his shoulder, where Sia had gone. “Your friend said you moved into The Mauricio downtown. That’s a pretty expensive place.”
His partner grunted. “And exclusive. I’d have no idea how to get in there even if I wanted to.”
They grinned at each other, perhaps thinking I didn’t know where they were going with these questions.
I raised my chin and rolled my shoulders back. “Just ask what you want to ask.”
The feigned amusement was gone. Their hawk eyes returned. The taller one narrowed his. “Do you know Cole Mauricio, ma’am?”
Ma’am. They even dropped the first name. A cold feeling crept in. “Yes, I do.”
“Your friend said you met at some hoity-toity event. One of those fundraisers. Is that true?”
“He was there, yes.”
They studied me, and I felt them reassessing.
Smythe asked quietly, “Is that where you met Cole Mauricio?”
“He wasn’t introduced to the group. Alfred Mahler conversed with him and his companion. Then Cole said a few words to the other people standing with us.”
“Other people? Who were they?”
Deep breath, and here we go. “My dead husband’s parents.”
“In-laws?” Both looked at me, long and hard. They hadn’t expected that.
I nodded. “I prefer ex-in-laws. There’s no relationship.”
Reyes wrote something down on a pad of paper. “Is that how you know Cole Mauricio?”
“I know him because I live in his building.”
“Your friend is dating one of the other residents, and she didn’t know him.”
I lifted a shoulder. “There’s a running track inside. We were both running one day. That’s where I met him.” I was willing to tell the truth, but I’d be damned if I just handed it over.
The medium-height one shifted on his feet, peering at me. “Your friend said you and your husband were estranged from his family.”
“That’s true. Yes.”
“Did you ever meet your husband’s grandmother?”
They were going the Bertal route. They weren’t going to ask whether I knew Cole on a personal level. The relief almost overwhelmed me. My knees grew weak, and I moved my head from side to side. “No. I never did. Liam was—he didn’t want me to meet her. That was obvious.”
“And you never questioned him?”
“I loved him. If he didn’t want me to meet her, there was a reason for it. I trusted him.”
Reyes put his pad of paper in his jacket’s inside pocket. “Were you aware Liam’s grandmother was a Bertal?”
“Yes, but not until the night of the event.” I could say this. I knew it had no bearing on me. “Cole Mauricio said that name, and I didn’t understand the implication. I looked up Bea Bertal on the internet that night.”
“The internet?” Reyes’ mouth twitched. “You found out about your deceased husband’s family from the world wide web?”
“Yes.” I frowned. “Why are you surprised by that?”
“You’d never thought to look up his family before?”
“Why would I? We were happy. Liam was a counselor. I wrote freelance. There was no reason to be suspicious.”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
They shared another look before swinging their gazes back to me. “Is there anything else we should know, Addison?” Reyes asked.
“About the break-in?” I shook my head. “No. Can I ask you a question?”
“Go for it.”
“Why are there two detectives on this case? Wouldn’t normal protocol be that one police officer take my statement?”
Both reacted, unreadable masks slamming down on their faces. Reyes coughed. “We’re just being thorough. If you find that anything was taken, let us know. Otherwise it looks like no harm done. We don’t have much to go on.”
“Yeah. Could’ve just been teenagers looking for an empty house to party in.” Smythe pointed to a corner devoid of furniture. “Sometimes they’ll look on real estate websites and watch to see how long a house is listed. They’ll scope it out, and if it’s empty, they’ll throw a big rager. Although,” he mused, “doesn’t seem like that either.”
They left soon after that, and Sia joined me in the kitchen, watching them go through the window. “That was weird.”
I grunted my agreement.
“So, nothing’s missing?”
The detectives got in their car and pulled away. The squad car that had come with them followed behind. I turned toward Sia. “I really don’t think so. Nothing stood out to me.”
“Oh.” She chewed her bottom lip, glancing around the empty house. “This place gives me the chills sometimes.” Her eyes got big. “Oh, I’m sorry, Addison. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I shook my head, sighing. “It gives me the chills, too. Come on.” I linked our arms together as we walked to the door. “It’s been a weird day. Let’s go do something fun.”
She grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I thought you’d never ask. Gianni’s?”
“Let’s try somewhere new.”
“I have the perfect place.” A smile stretched over her face as she went down to the car.
I stayed behind to lock the door. I knew eventually she’d question me about where I was last night, but so far she just seemed relieved that nothing was missing and I was okay. Maybe she’d forgotten where I’d told her I was going. I slid in next to her and glanced back at the house as the driver pulled away. I wanted to come back later, but with Cole instead.
I looked over at Sia, smiling until I remembered my alibi for the night before.
I told her I was going to be at my house last night.
Once we were back in the city, Sia should’ve gone to work, but she didn’t. She took the day off, declaring it Best Friend Day. For me. For the ass best friend. For the friend who had been lying to her.
We went to a new restaurant. We laughed. We drank. Fuck—we got drunk. The day, for all the craziness that had happened, was fun. Sia got my mind off of everything: Cole, the attack, my house. The only thing that wasn’t fun about the day was me. Sia was intent on celebrating me, while I was lying to her face.
How could I make that right in my head? How would I even try? I couldn’t. There were no words, no ways. At the end of the day, as we were giggling and tripping over ourselves going into the elevator, I knew who the bad guy was: me. Sia was being my friend, like she always had. I wasn’t doing the same. Nope. Douchebag. That was me.
She helped me into my place, and I fell on the floor.
“Oomph!” I felt nothing. I was just startled, and laughter pealed out of me.
Sia fell down beside me, laughing too. “We’re horrible.”
“No.” I pointed at her, my finger pressing into her skin. “We did what every burglarized person should do.”
She snorted, fighting back a grin. “Get wasted?”
“Yes.” I offered an emphatic nod. I meant business. “And when you get burglarized, I’ll do the same.”
“Spend a paycheck on cheap whiskey?”
I sat up and drew in a breath. “You spent a paycheck? A whole one?”
She rolled around, arching her back as more laughter came from her. “God, no. I love you, Addison. I probably spent two hundred dollars tonight.”
I touched her hand. “I’ll pay you back. I promise.”
“No.” She shook her head, almost knocking herself over as she struggled to sit up. “I owe you, and I’m doing what a friend should do. I’m taking your mind off things.”
I let out a sigh. “You really are.” I pulled her hand to my chest. “Thank you, friend.”
“No problem.” Her laughter dried up. Her voice grew somber. “You’d do the same for me.”
“Would I?”
“Addison.” She tilted her head. “You know you would.”
“I don’t know anymore,” I said, talking mostly to myself.
“Oh, Addy,” she murmured, scooting forward. She wrapped her arms around my waist and laid her head on my shoulder. “You lost your real best friend.” She moved her hand to rest over my heart. “He’s in here now. I can only hope to do him proud, but you’re selling yourself short. Addison, you are an amazing friend. You’re allowed to grieve the loss of your soulmate, no matter how long that takes. And trust me, I’m trying to play catch-up here. I’ve been slacking, you know, since a certain neighbor of yours came into my life.”
I laughed softly, leaning into her. “Thank you, Sia.”
She rested her chin on my shoulder, holding me once again.
“Thank you for making me feel better.”
“No problem.” She pressed her cheek to mine. “That’s what real friends do for each other, no matter what shit has hit the fan.”