“That’s why I wasn’t worried,” Quinn said, a hint of defiance in her voice. “I thought he’d gone out with his buddies after the auction. He does that sometimes. To celebrate. Especially if he makes a kill.” Stanley gave her a surprised look. “That’s what he calls it when he scores a good buy.”

“Well, here’s what I’m trying to work out,” Stanley said. “Our dispatch gets a call Sunday night at nine fifty-five. Hit-and-run in the Square. The description of the car matches your husband’s, and this car has the dent to prove it.

“But that night, traffic was tied up coming back from the Cape. Summer Sunday. Accident on the Bourne Bridge and another one on the Sagamore. Perfect storm. Hyannis to Boston, no matter what route you took, it would have taken at least three and a half hours. He’d have to have left Hyannis by six-thirty in order to be back here by ten.”

Quinn stood there blinking. “All I know is, he said he’d be late. Don’t wait up.” She shook her phone at him. “You saw his text.”

“You watched the ten o’clock news? What station?”

“I . . . I wasn’t paying attention,” Quinn said.

Stanley came back at Quinn, challenging her to remember what had been on the newscast, but Emily barely listened. She was imagining herself in Quinn’s place, being grilled about exactly what had happened the night before. What had she and Quinn talked about? Exactly how much wine had they each had to drink?

“Seriously?” Stanley said as he stood there, calmly stroking his chin and staring at Quinn. Quinn had gone rigid with rage. “What did you think when you got up the next morning and your husband wasn’t there?”

Frank would have strongly advised Quinn not to respond. “I sleep late,” she said. “All right? He’s usually up. When he wasn’t downstairs and his car wasn’t there, I assumed he’d gone to work. I didn’t realize he was missing until I tried to reach him at work and they told me he hadn’t come in.”

Stanley just stood there for a few moments, his gaze shifting from Quinn to Emily to the car, and back to Quinn. “So, let me repeat the timeline back to you.” He looked down at his notes. “From six o’clock on, you two ladies were together.”

“Six o’clock on,” Quinn said.

“Right. Exactly,” Emily said.

“And you left at around ten?” He looked to Emily for confirmation.