They played it back again, and again, until Ethan couldn’t see any vestiges of Sutton anymore.
“It’s not her. I can’t believe this. I need tea,” Ethan muttered, started preparing the water. “She wasn’t lying. She told the truth, and I didn’t believe her. I just didn’t look closely enough the first time you showed me.”
“Sutton denied doing this?”
“Sutton denied everything. She said she made one flip comment, and then her account was hacked. That everything that came after the first night was fake. I didn’t believe her. Why would I?”
“Because she was your wife?”
“My wife whom I was having problems with. God help me, I thought she was trying to gather attention, to pay me back for the affair. Aren’t I the arsehole?”
Graham pocketed her phone. She was very still. She’d stationed herself by the breakfast bar, watched him move around the kitchen. “Sir, I want to ask you something. Do you have any reason to believe your son’s death was something other than SIDS?”
The lid of the teapot clattered into place. “Sorry. Clumsy. You’ve been talking to the weird sisters, haven’t you?”
“Excuse me? Who?”
“Sutton’s group of friends. They don’t like me very much.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a bombastic serial cheater who belittled her and held her career back. Or hadn’t you heard?”
“Are you?”
“According to them. Her mother will say so, as well. What does the truth matter to a gaggle of women who don’t like a husband?”
“I haven’t been able to touch base with her mother.”
“Lucky you. She’s out of town. Canada, I think. When I told her Sutton was missing, she didn’t seem at all concerned. Told me I didn’t know her daughter and left for her trip.”
“That seems odd.”
“You don’t know Siobhan Healy. She’s no better than a spider—let her eggs hatch, find a wasp for them to feast on, then scurry away.”
“She and Sutton aren’t close?”
“Hardly. Sutton got the hell out the moment she was able to get a job and pay her own way. She hated one of the stepfathers with a passion, felt like Siobhan took his side over Sutton’s. She took off when she was sixteen.”
“One of the stepfathers?”
“Siobhan’s on hubby number four. She never married Sutton’s real father, he was a one-night stand. Sutton never knew him. She grew up hard, my wife. There was a new man every couple of years. They moved around a lot. She finally got fed up and bailed. There’s something...”
“Yes?”
“Nothing, never mind.”
“Everything you can tell me is helpful, Mr. Montclair.”
“I can’t tell you, because I don’t know. Something happened when she was a kid. I have no idea what it was. Siobhan is tight-lipped, and Sutton won’t even acknowledge it. She always keeps a rock-solid wall up about her childhood.
“She slipped once, when we were first dating. We were out for a night on the town, at a restaurant in downtown Nashville. A group of people came in, men and women, our age. Looked like they’d come from a big event, they were in evening attire, tuxes, and long gowns. Sutton turned white, and insisted we leave. When I asked what was wrong, she clammed up. She made it to the car before she started to cry. She wouldn’t tell me why, or who had upset her, but when I asked if it was someone from her past, she said yes, but wouldn’t tell me any more. I tried for a week to get her to open up, but she wouldn’t. My wife is a vault when she wants to be, Officer Graham. Her mother’s right. Sometimes, I wonder if I ever really knew her at all.”
He poured out the tea, handed the cop a fresh cup. She declined the fake milk and sugar, took it straight.
“I’ll take a look, see if there’s anything she was involved in that might show up. And, Mr. Montclair, her friends aren’t as unkind to you as you think they are. They are very concerned for her well-being, yes, but so far, no one’s pointing any fingers. There is another odd thing that’s cropped up, though. The password on her laptop.”
“I love Ethan Montclair. Trite.”
“No, that wasn’t it. It was Ethan killed our baby.”
He set the cup carefully on the marble. “Wait. What?”
“The password you provided didn’t get us into your wife’s computer. We had to crack it on our own, and what we found was that accusation.”
“But the notebook, I logged in myself—bollocks. I am so confused.” Ethan set his head in his hands. His voice was soft. “We fought so badly when Dashiell died. We both accused the other of negligence, carelessness, of letting it happen. Accusations that would never have come up if Dashiell hadn’t... Trust me, Officer Graham. I didn’t kill our son, and neither did my wife. His death was a terrible, awful tragedy, and it tore us apart. But we loved him, more than we loved each other, maybe. Hurting him isn’t something either of us could do.”
“I believe you,” Graham said. “But it seems Sutton was sending a message. Could she be trying to get you in trouble, Mr. Montclair?”
A huge sigh, relief spreading through his body. “I can’t imagine why she would. She didn’t hate me that much. But Wilde? Wilde is responsible. Wilde is behind this. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I don’t think my marriage was so far gone that my wife would try to set me up.”
Graham nodded. “Obviously the idea of a third party makes this theory very compelling. A blackmail attempt colors the whole investigation.”
“I tried to buy him off. He set up a meet and didn’t show. He’s playing games.”
“You should have told me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“When was this?”
“Earlier tonight. He was just poking me, torturing me.”
“Where were you supposed to meet?”
“Right outside the city limits. He never came. Something’s happened to her. I know it. No one believes me.”
He sounded petulant now, and the cop eyed him like he was a weak, ridiculous child, whining because he couldn’t get a piece of candy in line at the grocery. She took a deep breath, blew it out her nose.
“Mr. Montclair, I believe you. And I have to say, I am starting to agree with you. Something has happened to your wife. We need to change focus, start actively searching for her. We’re currently tracing the calls to your house and cell. We’ll be very discreet, but we’re going to have to get someone in here to guide you in how to talk to Wilde if he calls or texts again. If he’s telling the truth, and he knows where Sutton is, she could very easily be in danger.”
The relief he felt was enormous. Relief, and a new fear. “I think that’s rather clear-cut already, don’t you?”
“I will admit something doesn’t add up. An email you claim you didn’t send, a password different from what you knew. A thwarted blackmail attempt. The woman in the video not being your wife. I’ll take it all to my boss and lay it out for him. And if Wilde calls again, you keep him on the phone as long as you possibly can.”
“Officer Graham? Is it possible for passwords to be changed remotely?”
Her brow wrinkled for a moment. “I’m not an IT expert, but I would assume if someone had managed to overtake a computer with a virus, then yes, that’s entirely within the bounds of reality.”
She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. Ethan wanted to weep. The touch was gentle, soft, opposite of everything he’d been getting for the past two days.
“We’ll figure it out, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
Holly believed him. Maybe she wasn’t a seasoned investigator yet, maybe she was being snookered. But damn if she didn’t believe him. Now she had to find a way to investigate Wilde without him knowing Ethan had shared the blackmail demand. It was definitely time for a seasoned detective to step in. She wasn’t about to blow this case, and there were suddenly more moving parts than she could handle alone. One thing she’d learned from her dad, don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Holly had just gotten into her car when the phone rang. She put it on speaker as she put on her safety belt.
“Officer Graham? It’s Ivy Brookes.”
“Hello, Ms. Brookes. What can I do for you?”
“Could you come by the house? I have some more information I need to share.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m close.”
“Yes, you are.”
The phone went dead. What was this about?