“Thank you.”

A moment later, Rachel came through. “Hello, how can I help?”

“Hi, Rachel. My name is Scott.” He wasn’t sure how to start. “I need to talk to you about twenty-seven Park Avenue.”

“Okay, give me a sec…” She was tapping keys. “It seems there’s a tenant living there, a… Sorry, do you also live at the address?”

“No, I’m not calling about the house itself.”

“Right…”

Scott sighed. He had to get it over with. “Apparently you saw my wife with another man.”

“I don’t understand,” Rachel said.

Scott explained. He told her about finding Natalie’s name on the wall and how cagey the tenant had been when Scott asked about it. “She said you made a joke. She implied it was about my wife and her lover.”

Lover. Scott’s hand was burning again. He hadn’t replaced the cream all day.

“I wouldn’t joke about our clients–”

“I don’t think they were your clients–”

“Or potential clients. Or anybody.”

Scott paused. Accusing her probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Forget the joke. I must’ve got that part wrong. But did you see her, my wife?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss that.”

Scott’s phone buzzed. A text appeared on the screen. It was Casey.

Don’t take too long, honey. I miss you xxxxx

“You can discuss it with me.” He slammed his good hand against the steering wheel. “My wife died by suicide and I think this man might know something about it. Please, you’re my only chance.”

That wasn’t a lie. Perhaps the owner of the scraped-out name did know something. For what felt like the hundredth time, Scott cursed himself for not looking into this sooner. It had been so easy to ignore with Casey’s smile, Casey’s touch, Casey’s everything to distract him.

“I saw your wife a few times.” Rachel lowered her voice. “I’m sorry she passed. I didn’t know that. But I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

“I don’t think–”

“Tell me what?”

After a pause, she went on. “Your wife would visit the park fairly often, at least while I was working around there. I’d see them both in the park, or near the entrance. Some nights, it would be just the two of them. In the park, I mean, no one else there.”

“What would they do?”

“Just walk, from what I saw. Hold hands. Nothing much, really.”

Scott stared out the window for a moment, looking at nothing. He was trying to picture Natalie holding somebody else’s hand, the same way they’d held hands; he was trying to imagine her loving somebody else. Scott had felt physically incapable of feeling love for another person while he was with Natalie. Nobody else could compare, ever.

“Hello?” Rachel said.

“I’m here.”

“Are you sure you want to know everything?”

“Yes,” Scott said, though he wasn’t sure.

“Well… your wife, the person she was with. I’m sorry. It was a woman.”

“Oh.” Scott slumped back, struggling to accept what he’d just heard. “A woman.”