“Barf. Regardless, that’s not the right password. I had to mess around with it, but I was able to crack it. I hooked in my UFED, knocked it out in ten seconds flat.”

“’Cause you’re a regular crackerjack IT dude, Jim. What the hell is a UFED?”

“Universal Forensic Extraction Device. Mine’s called Sally. I can pull information from any encrypted device you give me. I don’t need a password or fingerprint to get into a phone when Sally gets her way.”

“Um, thank you, Sally?”

“Yes, thank you, Sally. Don’t you want to know what the right password was?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ethan killed our baby.”

Good Timing, Officer

GOOD TIMING, OFFICER

Now

A car pulled up outside. Ethan glanced out the window, saw it was Officer Graham. He also saw the bevy of news vans and microphones part before the blue-and-white car.

“Bloody hell.”

Graham looked neither right nor left, ignoring the shouts and cries from the media. She came onto the porch and he sensed movement from the crowd, a surge toward the house, but she turned and said something, and the movement ceased. They stayed on alert, like hunting dogs on point, but the groundswell was sufficiently halted.

He made sure to turn his head away and stand behind the door when he opened it, just in case. Graham came inside briskly, and Ethan heard the clatter of cameras snapping.

“You’re suddenly a very popular man,” she said.

“Thanks to you.”

A sharp look. “Hey, I come in peace. And I didn’t call the media. They were already on your house when Sergeant Moreno and I left, after you reported your wife missing.”

“Who told them, then?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Montclair, but I have no idea. They do monitor our dispatch calls. Perhaps someone recognized your address and put it all together.”

“Have you found something? Is that why you’re here?”

“Nothing yet. I had some more questions.”

“All right. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

“Sure. Milk and sugar.”

For some reason he didn’t want to tell her they didn’t use real milk and sugar; it seemed silly, trivial. He’d put the stevia and almond milk in the cup and let her deal with it.

He prepped the tea while she stood at the counter, eyeing the stain.

“What happened there?”

“Blueberries.”

“Looks like blood to me.”

The spoon clattered in the cup. “That’s what happens to real marble when something acidic is left out on it overnight. We made smoothies for dessert one night. I didn’t realize a few blueberries had escaped until I found Sutton down here the next day, crying. I’d been telling her from the start the counter was going to be ruined quickly, we shouldn’t get the real marble for exactly this reason, but she refused to listen. I was right, of course.”

“Was this before or after the baby?”