I grabbed the phone, went to the half bath off the kitchen, lifted the lid off the toilet tank, and dropped the phone into the water. I stared at it. It was ringing again.

And then it stopped.

What was I going to do?

As if a message had floated up from the inky depths of a Magic 8 Ball, I knew.

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

I TURNED THE doorknob and, using my hip and shoulder as a battering ram, shoved the door open. The racket startled Joe out of his sound sleep.

I’d wanted to scare him, but I hadn’t thought he would go for his gun. His hand shot under the bed and he was bringing it up when he saw that the intruder was me, a version of me he’d rarely seen. I was so angry.

“Lindsay. What’s wrong?”

The shouting began.

“What’s wrong is you and June Freundorfer. How could you do this to me, Joe?”

He was sitting up in bed now, looking at me with stark bewilderment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bother to lie. She told me everything.”

“Told you what? Lindsay, we went to a benefit. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about it, but I wasn’t keeping it from you.”

“A benefit. Isn’t that what it’s called these days? A friend with benefits?”

“I don’t understand why she called you.”

“She called you.”

“I see. So you intercepted the call.”

I said, “Joe, how could you do this to us?”

“Lindsay, I’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing.”

I went into the room, threw open the closet doors. Joe’s suitcase was right there, and as luck would have it, he hadn’t yet unpacked.

I hauled the bag out of the closet and chucked it onto the floor at Joe’s feet. He stood up and came toward me, his arms open. He was saying stuff, but I had closed myself off from him. I didn’t comprehend him anymore, not what he’d done, not what he was saying. I took pants and a jacket out of the closet, got underwear out of a drawer.

I wanted to get away from him before I cried.

“Lindsay. Stop. Just stop. I’m not having an affair with June or anyone else.”

I whipped around to face him. Adrenaline made me almost blind with rage. I could barely look at him.

“Why would June lie? She said, ‘It’s just one of those things.’”

“Our friendship, maybe.”

“I wish I could believe you, Joe, but you’re a terrific liar. I can’t stand the sound of your voice, so please, just leave. I’ll send your things — wherever you say. Just don’t be here when I get home.”

I dressed in the bathroom and left the house without saying another word to Joe.