The Baker's Wife (15 page)

Jack was respected, of course, and Rutgers and Carlisle and others were happy to keep him up to speed on what little progress they made. But they didn't have enough direct evidence to convince a judge to grant a warrant for Audrey Bofinger's arrest, and Jack didn't think they could secure what they needed without his help.

In the light of the lab's conclusion that the blood belonged to Julie, Jack expected another detective to take Audrey down to the precinct for a repeat round of their previous questions, trying to break open new holes in her story. He was half surprised to beat his colleague to it, and he planned to make the most of his coup.

He was treading on unstable ground in asking Audrey to speak to him. He mentally plotted his defense, should he need one: they were two old friends equally concerned for his wife's fate. She had spoken with him willingly. There was nothing official involved. No hidden tape recorders, only hidden agendas. Jack did plan to get as much incriminating information out of the woman that he possibly could, and then work backward to acquire the correlating evidence in such a way that it wouldn't be excluded from the prosecution's case.

He also plotted a very different line of questions from what he believed they'd ask her at the station.

The Honey Bee smelled of greasy griddle sausages and burnt coffee, and the patrons' chatter buzzed like the name of the place suggested it should. A waitress old enough to be Jack's mother and nimble enough to be a teenager snatched two menus out of a rack by the door when they entered. He requested a particular booth that was in view of the register and the security camera. The amicable nature of their meeting would be on file, should he need to prove it.

He indicated that Audrey should slide into the yellow vinyl booth that faced the camera. He sat opposite her, exposing the back of his head to the lens. A suspect's facial expressions and body language were so important. So revealing.

Her menu remained closed in front of her. She folded her hands on the table and watched him more confidently than most suspects could. Underneath the open buttons at her collar, Audrey's skin was red and splotchy.

“Something to eat?” he asked.

“No, thank you. I can't be gone long.”

“Coffee?”

“That'd be fine.”

He ordered a three-egg farmer's omelet with a side of pancakes and an order of hashbrowns. He wasn't hungry, but if his mouth was full, she'd be more inclined to fill the silence, and he hoped to keep her talking as long as possible.

“How's Miralee dealing with her mother's disappearance?” Audrey asked, and Jack felt irritated that she'd spoken so readily. He would be the one to lead this conversation. And yet he had to keep it as friendly as a conversation between two enemies could be.

“She doesn't know about it yet,” he said.

Audrey sat back in her seat, erect. At least he'd get some baseline body language out of this. “Why doesn't she know?”

“That's really none of your business, now, is it?”

“Maybe not, but it's unexpected regardless. Any daughter would deserve to know about something this bad.”

“I think I know what's best for my family.”

Audrey nodded in a way that said she disagreed entirely.

“Miralee and Julie haven't been on speaking terms for a couple of months, no thanks to you.”

“You mean Ed.”

“I meant your family in general.”

“What do we have to do with their relationship?”

“Audrey, I've never hidden what I think of your husband and son. Their behavior was—”

“Mischaracterized by your accusations.” Her gaze was steady.

“The evidence supported me. As did the church.”

“Truth always comes out, Jack. I think you believe that more than anyone.”

“Which is exactly why you can help me unravel what happened to my wife.”

“Before we move on to her, I just want to say that the truth hasn't come out yet about my husband. Geoff didn't pay for that abortion. I think you know it. Deep in there”—she pointed at his chest—“you know it.”

“Show me the evidence that contradicts what I've seen, and you'll have my public apology.”

“An apology can't undo the harm you've caused. We're talking about lives here, your family and mine. Our children, our spouses. Our grandbaby. You're relentless, Jack.”

He laughed low. “You want to hold me responsible for the damage? You and I are victims of all this. And I'll admit, I'm sorry about that. You're the compassionate one, the well-wisher. If there was a way to separate you from the consequences of what Geoff and Ed did, I would have tried to do that for you.”

It was a necessary white lie, a justifiable wrong to gain the greater right. Like saving a life on the sabbath. Audrey scratched at the rash on her neck.

“What happened between Miralee and Julie?” she asked.

“I need to ask you some questions about the accident, Audrey.”

“Questions different from what you and dozens of others have already asked?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, and he had the conversation firmly back in hand.

“The blood on the ground belongs to the missing person.”

Audrey blinked. “You mean the blood belongs to
your wife
.”

“That's what I said.”

“No, you . . . I'm sorry, Jack.”

“For what?”

“For what you must be going through!”

“You're having regrets for what you did.”

“You mean do I regret driving too fast for the foggy conditions? Absolutely. It was a mistake, though. Not a plot.”

The waitress brought Jack's plate and a pot of coffee, but Audrey's cup was still full.

“That's an interesting word choice.
Plot
.”

He placed a forkful of omelet in his mouth and stared at her. She stared back.

“Audrey, have you examined your soul? If you hide sin in your heart it will fester and become infected.”

“You may have legal authority over me, Jack, but I don't recognize your spiritual authority any longer.”

“When you avoid questions it makes you look as if you're hiding something.”

“I haven't avoided any relevant questions.”

“You hid evidence from me. You tried to dispose of it.”

“What evidence?”

“Julie's cell phone.”

“I didn't hide it! Diane Hall had it. You spoke with her. She found it in the gutter down the street.”

“Ms. Hall says she never saw the phone.”

“What?” The confidence in Audrey's tone slipped away.

“And your fingerprints were on it.”

“Well, yes, that's because she showed it to me.”

“Why would she show it to you?”

Audrey sputtered through her responses. “I was trying to call Julie. The cell phone rang right in the shop. Because Diane had it.”

“Why were you calling her?”

“To see if she was okay. To apologize for the scooter.”

“Or maybe to find the phone you lost after you moved her body.”

“No! Jack! I keep telling you—”

“I didn't see your number in her call log.”

Audrey paled. “I deleted it.”

“That's interesting. Why?”

She turned her face toward the window.

“You hardly knew my wife. How did you have her number?”

“Ed had it! It's—Diane said she's never seen it? If my prints were on it, hers must be all over it.”

Jack took another bite and shook his head.

“Think about it, Jack—if I had something to hide, would I put it in my trash can while your officers are searching every crack in the asphalt?”

“If you believed that kind of behavior would seem odd to me.”

“I can't believe this is happening. Ed and I tried to help. We called 9-1-1. We looked for Julie. I didn't hurt her.”

“We, I. So it's not out of the question that Ed did something you don't want to talk about. Or Geoff.”

Audrey's coffee sloshed out of the cup as she shoved it away from her. “I came here with you because I'm worried about Julie. Maybe you can help prod my memory to recall some detail that didn't seem important at the time. Maybe we can put this puzzle together in a way that makes some kind of sense. But if you're going to sit here and hammer away at your accusations, forget it. Arrest me. I'd rather you do this at the station. Wait—you're not allowed to take me to the station, are you? Because you're not even supposed to be working this case! I'm not stupid, Jack. I'm sick about what might have happened. I want answers as much as you do. We'll get further on this if you treat me like someone who cares.”

Jack wiped his mouth. “‘All a man's ways seem right to him, but the Lord weighs the heart.' ”

“Well, that goes for you too.”

“My conscience is clear.”

“So's mine.”

“My professional record is spotless. I've met people like you before many times. Your family can't fool me, Audrey. You smile and seethe and lead a deceitful life.”

“That doesn't sound like something that will hold up in court.”

“Expert testimony can hold a lot of sway. But I like evidence, and I have plenty.”

“If you had enough I'd be in handcuffs right now.”

“In due time.”

Audrey began to slide out of the booth.

“We have Julie Mansfield's blood—”

“Your
wife's
blood. What's wrong with you?”

“—all over you and your car. We have your fingerprints on Julie Mansfield's missing phone. We have your earring, which was found in the dirt outside my home office window. I'm guessing you lost it when you broke in to type a disturbing message on my computer.”

Her hand went to her left earlobe, though she wore two blue glass studs today.

“You know which earring I mean.”

Audrey leaned back against the seat, looking flummoxed. He'd thought that bit would surprise her.

“No, I don't.”

He believed she was lying. “A heart around a rose?”

“The church gave out dozens of identical pairs to the moms. It could belong to anyone. You even took a pair for Julie.”

“Strange you didn't offer to show me your own complete set.”

“Show me Julie's first.”

“No need. DNA results will come in soon enough. I'm liking you for this more and more, Audrey.”

Finally, she looked frightened.

It was Jack's strange emotional distance from his wife that spooked Audrey the most. That and his inappropriate probing of her inner life, his claim that she had sinned and that he had the spiritual discernment to expose her.

For a fleeting moment she believed Jack had killed Julie and was using all his resources to blame the Bofingers. He would manipulate the evidence—not too swiftly or cleanly, for the sake of realism—and sever every last tie that held her family together.

She kicked herself for not noticing where she'd lost that earring all those months ago.

The nausea that had been swelling in her stomach peaked. She closed her eyes and blotted the sweat on her brow with a napkin, hoping the wave would pass. But her illness and her fear were indistinguishable at the moment.

Audrey asked God to give her wisdom, and to give her a favorable exit from this conversation as soon as possible. She opened her eyes. Jack was chewing evenly, studying her.

She wondered if he was capable of killing her too.

“I was at your house once, several months ago.” Her voice wobbled and she hated the sound.

“You said you've never been to my house.”