Page 8 of Drowning in Lies
"I work for a literary agent at White River Publishing," I replied."However, the bulk of my income comes from my investment portfolio and real estate holdings."
He nodded, making a note on the pad in front of him. He noticed me glance at the notepad and gestured to it. "Forgive me, I'm old school and still use pen and paper for these things. I find that I listen more attentively than if I'm trying to take notes electronically."
I nodded, wondering why he thought I cared one way or the other how he did it.
He continued, smiling encouragingly."So, you and your husband have an extensive investment portfolio and real estate holdings?"
"No," Chris answered for me. "Mrs. Montgomery is speaking of her investment portfolio and real estate holdings. She comes from a wealthy family, and received her trust fund when she turned twenty-five, as well as a large inheritance after her mother's recent death." I could tell he took great pleasure in correcting the detective. "I can provide you with verification of those facts as well if needed."
Detective Horton eyed me speculatively for a moment before nodding. "Good to know. I'm sorry to hear of your mother's passing. Had she been ill?"
Chris huffed in disgust as he registered the meaning behind that question. "Yes, detective," he answered coldly. "She had multiple sclerosis which resulted in a fall in her home. She was hospitalized and in a skilled rehab facility for several weeks before falling again and suffering a fatal brain injury. Nothing to investigate, I assure you."
Detective Horton looked at me without acknowledging Chris's declaration. "I apologize, Mrs. Montgomery. I didn't mean any offense with my line of questioning, but I do need to ask when these sorts of things come up," he said smoothly.
"Unfortunately, the insurance policy wasn't the only troubling piece of information we uncovered yesterday. What was your relationship like with your husband?"
"Excuse me?" I asked, and before I could ask anything else, Chris butted in.
"Cut the crap, detective. We aren't playing this game. Either spell out exactly what you're getting at and what questions you have, or this discussion has come to an end. My client will not participate in your little fishing expedition," he declared firmly.
Damn, I could almost see the ice dripping from his words, and I would not want to be on the receiving end of that look. I'd never seen Chris like this, and a quick glance at Sherry showed she was shocked, too.
I decided I should probably try to smooth things over a little. "It's OK, Chris. I'll answer whatever he wants to know." I reached out to gently squeeze his arm and he made a visible effort to relax before nodding slightly at me.
I looked at Detective Horton. "My relationship with my husband was very good.He was a wonderful man, and I loved him very much. We've been married for three years, and together for five years before that. I'm not sure what else you want to know?"
He nodded again and made a few more notes on the pad in front of him. "Do you know a Vanessa Caldwell, Mrs. Montgomery?" he questioned, watching me carefully for a reaction.
"Of course, she's an associate architect at David's firm. She's worked for him for about six months or so now. Why?"
"Do you know her well?"
"Uh, I wouldn't say extremely well, but I've met her several times. Company functions, David's birthday party, a few times when I stopped by his office for lunch. She actually went shopping with Sherry and me on Saturday, but that's the most time I've spent with her. Why are you asking about her?"
That seemed to take him off-guard, and he flipped back through his notebook, reading over something and then looking back at me. "So, the friend you mentioned spending the day with on Saturday, aside from Mrs. Decker here, was Vanessa Caldwell. And you..." he paused, checking his notes, "went shopping at the mall, had lunch and spent the afternoon at the spa with her?"
"Yes, and she was supposed to join us for a cookout at our house, but she got a migraine, so we dropped her off early. I'm sorry, Detective, but why are you asking about Vanessa?" I looked to Chris, and he nodded in support.
"Either answer her, or this discussion is over, Horton. What are you getting at?"
Detective Horton looked me straight in the eye and dropped his bombshell, "Were you aware that your husband had been having an affair with Vanessa Caldwell?
Chapter 5: The Texts
I froze in place, expressionless, while Chris erupted, standing up so quickly that his chair tipped over backward. Placing his palms flat on the table, he leaned over and glared daggers at Detective Horton.
"You had better hope you have absolute proof of this, or I'll file a complaint against you for treating a grieving widow with such completely callous disregard," he snarled.
"I do, actually. Mr. Montgomery's cellphone was a wealth of information, I'm afraid."
"No," I croaked, shaking my head. "The man I loved wouldn't do that. There's no way he would do that."
He looked at me and gave me a surprisingly compassionate smile. "I know this may be hard to hear, ma'am, but theywerehaving an affair. The last round of texts between your husband and Ms. Caldwell had not been deleted yet, and they leave absolutely no doubt. I have print-outs of the screenshots, plus a transcription of the dialogue itself because the text on the screenshots is small and a little difficult to read." He gestured to one of the file folders under his notepad.
"Let me see that," Chris demanded, holding his hand out for the folder. He opened it and flipped through the pages, pausing to look at a few of them more closely, then closed the folder and smacked it down on the table. He turned to look at me, and it was clear that he did not want to have to tell me about whatever he saw on those pages.
"Lila," he began gently, "Honey, I'm sorry, but it looks like David was - "
