The Stranger

In short, he could see her every charge or withdrawal.

For the next twenty minutes, Adam went through her charge cards and bank accounts. He started by searching from the most recent backward—any activity from today and yesterday. But there was nothing. He started traveling back a few days, just to see if there were any patterns. Cori

Everything—her entire financial life or, well, spending life—was there and unsurprising. She had gone to the A&P supermarket, Starbucks, the Lax Shop. She had lunch at Baumgart’s and picked up takeout at Ho-Ho-Kus Sushi. There were the automatic gym payments taken off the card and something she had ordered online from Banana Republic. Normal-life stuff. There was also pretty much at least one charge every single day.

But not today. And not yesterday.

No charges at all.

So what should he make of that?

For one thing, Cori

Right. So what would she do instead? She’d use cash.

He checked the ATM withdrawals. The last one she made had been two weeks ago for $200.

Was that enough to run away on?

Doubtful. He thought about it.

If she were driving for any length of time, she would need to buy gas. So how much cash did she have on her now? It wasn’t as though she pla

Or had she?

He stopped. Could Cori

Had she somehow suspected that one day her deception would come to light?

He didn’t know. When he sat back and tried to think it through, he realized that he didn’t know a damn thing for anything close to certain. In her text, Cori

But then again, for all he knew, Cori

A killer even.

Maybe someone had killed Cori

Whoa, slow down a sec. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

He could actually feel his heart pounding against his chest. Now that this worry had entered his head—check that, it had been in his head, but now he had all but voiced it—the fear stayed there, unmoving, like some unwelcome relative who wouldn’t leave. He looked at her text again:

MAYBE WE NEED SOME TIME APART. YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS. DON’T TRY TO CONTACT ME. IT WILL BE OKAY.

And then:

JUST GIVE ME A FEW DAYS. PLEASE.

Something about the texts was off, but he couldn’t figure out what. Suppose Cori

His head started spi

Okay, let’s say he went to the police. Then what? He would have to go to the town cops. And what would he say exactly? They’d take one look at the text and say to give it time, wouldn’t they? And in town, as much as he hated to admit it mattered, the cops would talk. He knew most of them. Len Gilman was the top cop in Cedarfield. He’d take his complaint, most likely. He had a son Ryan’s age. They were in the same homeroom. Gossip and rumors about Cori

“Hey, bro.”

Andy Gribbel entered the office with a big smile on his bearded face. He wore sunglasses inside today, not because he wanted to look cool so much as to cover the red from either a late night or something more herbal.

“Hey,” Adam said. “How did the gig go the other night?”

“The band totally kicked ass,” Gribbel said. “Kicked ass and took names.”

Adam leaned back, welcoming the interruption. “What did you open with?”

“‘Dust in the Wind.’ Kansas.”

“Hmm,” Adam said.

“What?”

“Opening with a slow ballad?”

“Right, but it totally worked. Dark bar, low lights, atmospheric, and then we directly segued, no break, into ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light.’ Blew the roof off the place.”

“Meat Loaf,” Adam said with a nod. “Nice.”

“Right?”

“Wait, since when do you have a female vocalist?”

“We don’t.”

“But ‘Paradise’ is a male-female duet.”

“I know.”

“A rather aggressive one,” Adam continued, “with all the ‘Will you love me forever’s and him pleading for her to let him sleep on it.”

“I know.”

“And you guys do it without a female vocalist?”

“I do both parts,” Gribbel said.

Adam sat up, tried to picture this. “You do the male-female duet yourself?”

“Always.”

“That must be a hell of a rendition.”

“You should hear me do ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.’ One second I’m Elton. The next, Kiki Dee. Brings tears to your eyes, really. Speaking of which . . .”

“What?”

“You and Cori

Adam frowned. “Reaching.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“We all set up for Mike and Eunice Rinsky tomorrow?”

“That’s why I wanted to see you.”

“Problem?”

“Nope, but Mayor Gush-something-ski wants to talk to you about the Rinsky eviction. He’s got some town hall at seven and asked if you could stop by after. I texted you the address.”

Adam checked his phone. “Yeah, okay, I guess we should hear him out.”

“I’ll let his people know. Have a good night, my man.”

Adam checked his watch. He was surprised to see that it was six o’clock already. “Good night.”

“Let me know if we’re on for tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

Gribbel took off then, leaving Adam alone. Adam stopped and listened for a second. The sounds were distant, the office in its slow nightly death throes. Okay, so back up a step. Play it through. Go back to what he knew for certain.

One, he knew that Cori

Tollbooths.

If Cori