Barclay, Linwood Novel 08 - Never saw it coming

And if, God forbid, something actually
did
happen to Ellie, then how is it going to look if—”
    “Laci, please, don’t go there,” he said. “Maybe she just decided to go away for a while, clear her head.”
    “Is that what you think?”
    “I don’t know what to think. But I suppose it’s a possibility. I mean, they haven’t found her car or anything. If something had happened to her around here, you’d think they’d have at least found her car.”
    “So you think she just decided to drive away? Like, to Florida or something?”
    “Laci, I don’t know,
okay
? I don’t have any goddamn idea.”
    His tone stopped Laci for a second. “You don’t have to get angry with me.”
    “I’m going through a lot right now. I’m just trying to keep it together.”
    “How’s Melissa coping?”
    “Not well.”
    “What about that man who got her pregnant? Is he still in the picture? Can he be there for Melissa at a time like this?”
    “She says she doesn’t want anything to do with him. Honestly, I don’t think it would make things any easier for me if he was around right now.”
    “I was just—oh my God, I just thought of something,” she said.
    “What?”
    “They’re not tapping your phone, are they? They’re not listening in?”
    He felt a chill run down his spine. Could they be? He could kick himself. It hadn’t even occurred to him until she mentioned it. He’d been doing such a good job, being the distraught husband, he hadn’t thought there was any reason for the police to be bugging his phone. Sure, he knew the cops would probably be looking at him sooner or later, but he didn’t believe he’d given any indication that he was in any way responsible for his wife’s disappearance.
    “I mean, if they hear us, and know we’ve been seeing each other, then—”
    “Hang up, Laci,” he said.
    “—then they might think that you had something to do with it, you know, so that you could spend your life with me and—”
    He slammed down the phone. If the police had been listening, the damage was done. They’d know he’d been having an affair. They’d know he and Laci had been seeing each other for weeks now.
    Not good, not good at all.
    Laci’s call left Garfield rattled. He tried to tell himself he was going to get through this. He had to keep his wits about him. Even if the police found out he’d been sleeping with Laci, it didn’t have to mean he’d had anything to do with this business about his wife.
    They hadn’t found a body. Or her car.
    And he was as sure as he could be that they never would.
    Pull yourself together, he told himself.
    The doorbell rang.
    Jesus,
he thought. They really
were
listening to his phone, and now they wanted to question him about Laci, about whether he’d killed his wife to be with this other woman.
    He took a couple of deep breaths, composed himself, and strode through the living room to the front door. He pulled the curtain back first, to see who it was.
    It was a woman.
    A woman with green parrot earrings.

Seven
    Keisha Ceylon was ready with her “I feel your pain” smile. First impressions were everything. You had to come across as sincere, so you couldn’t overdo the smile. It had to be held back. You didn’t want to show any teeth. No empty-headed Stepford Wife/Jehovah’s Witness smile that looked like it had been pasted on. You had to get into the moment. You had to
believe
you were on a mission. And you had to look as though you were sorry to even be here, that if there was anywhere else on this earth you could be, you would.
    But you were
compelled
to be here. You simply had no choice.
    She saw the man pull back the curtain to get a look at her, and gave him the smile. Almost apologetic.
    Then the door opened.
    “Yes?” he said.
    “Mr. Garfield?”
    “You a reporter? We did the press conference yesterday. There’s nothing else I have to say at this time.” He leaned out of the door, looking past her down to the street, wondering, maybe, if a news van was nearby.
    “I’m not a reporter, Mr. Garfield.”
    “What do you want, then?”
    “Let me give you my card,” she said, handing one to him.
    He glanced down at it. The card read:

    KEISHA CEYLON

    Psychic Finder of Lost Souls
    Under that, a web address and a phone number. “What the hell is this?” he asked.
    “Like it says there, I’m Keisha, and I’m so very sorry to trouble you at such a time. But I think, if you’ll be kind enough to give me a moment, you