“The baby’s death was ruled SIDS, the autopsy showed no signs of trauma. Baby was well nourished and taken care of, no signs of neglect, nothing to indicate he was purposefully suffocated or given something that stopped his heart. It really looks like a terrible tragedy, and not one of their making. There are about 3,500 idiopathic SIDS deaths in the country every year. It seems Dashiell Montclair is a statistic.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It is. Very sad.”

“What else?”

“Multiple domestic calls. We’ve been out to the house four times in the past year. Mrs. Montclair declined to press charges, so there was nothing we could do.”

“He was abusing her?”

“That’s the odd thing. All four times, she swears she didn’t make the call. That yes, they were fighting, and yes, it was bad, but she hadn’t called the police.”

“Nine-one-one have the records?”

“The calls came from her cell phone.”

“Sounds like buyer’s regret to me. Pretty typical.”

“Yeah. There’s not a lot to go on here, that’s for sure. Clearly there were problems, clearly she’s bailed. The question is, did she leave of her own volition, or did he help her along?”

“How do you propose to answer that?”

“Time, sir. It’s going to take more time for me to sort through it all.”

“Get some sleep. Hit it fresh in the morning. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” They hung up. But she couldn’t sleep. She lay in her comfortable bed, thinking about the photos she’d seen at the Montclairs’. They seemed so happy. So settled and content. The three of them, beautiful and glossy. And then tragedy struck, the baby died, and their whole world collapsed. Anyone’s marriage would fall apart under those circumstances. Anyone’s.

So why did she feel like she was missing something?

Voices, I Hear Voices

VOICES, I HEAR VOICES

Me again. How’re you getting along? Me, I’m a bit annoyed.

I have to ask, was that bad of me, the call? Should I not have turned the screws on Ethan so soon? It’s only been a day, and the cops are heading in the right direction, yes, but they’re so sloooow.

I want to see him twist.

I want to see him hurt.

I want to see him bleed.

And I want it to happen now.

Lest you think I’m some sort of mustache-twirling villain, let me assure you, Ethan deserves every moment of torture he’s receiving. He is a bad man. A tin man. A man without honor, without a soul, without a heart.