“Look, Jake, until we know that this is Pauline’s blood, her death is in our jurisdiction. Her murder is our case. And even if it turns out to be Pauline’s blood on the knife, no one knows exactly where and when she died. It behooves us to have cooperation between the teams. If your captain is that protective, can you do me a favor and hold off on notifying him?”

Quay shuffled his feet again. “How long?”

“A week?”

“If he finds out I went a week without telling him about this, he’ll have a shit fit.”

“How long can you give me?”

“What day of the week is it? Wednesday?”

“Yeah.”

“How about if I tell him next Monday morning? That’s almost a week, but it’s over the weekend.”

“That’s fine,” Decker said. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure …” Quay’s phone buzzed. “Excuse me.” He walked off.

McAdams said, “I don’t know about that guy. If it’s Pauline’s blood on the knife, we may be booted.”

“But the thing is, Harvard, we have the body.”

McAdams gave him a double thumbs-up.

“Damn right,” Decker said. “This time, I’m not going down without a fight. To these silly turf wars, I say may the best man win.”

CHAPTER 20

NO MATTER WHAT he did or where he went, Chris always wore his wedding ring. Even now, though we weren’t married yet, it was a constant companion. He used to play with it all the time, twirl it around his finger, so much so that I once asked him if it was too tight. He said no, he just liked to touch it. It tethered him. Otherwise he felt he’d drift away. I thought it was his way of telling me how much he needed me. He had needed me, but not in a healthy way. I had always been his emotional rainy-day account, something to dip into when things went haywire. It was a tiring, thankless role. And it took me a while to learn that things were never going to change.

Unless you’ve been there, it’s very hard to imagine what it’s like to live with an abusive partner. All the things that people tell you to do, all the things you tell yourself to do. Just put your foot down. Just leave him. Just divorce him. Just shoot the bastard. It was a little more complicated than that, especially because Chris’s controlling behavior wasn’t typical. He didn’t check my phone or constantly ask where I was going or who I’d been with. He gave me just enough freedom for me to think I’d be okay. Until I wasn’t.