“He thought his wife was having an affair. I told him I thought he was being stupid. I said what were the odds that he and his wife would be screwing around at the same time? I guess that was sort of tactless, but men are such little boys when it comes to adultery. Okay, so you messed around. It’s not that big of a deal. So get over it.”
“But he didn’t get over it.”
“No. I actually thought he was going to hit me. He said he loved his wife. And here we’re sitting naked on my bed after screwing each other’s brains out. And I said something dumb like, ‘Well, you have a funny way of showing it.’ Then he yelled at me, grabbed his stuff, and left.”
“Did he say why he thought his wife was having an affair?”
“He mentioned something about some phone calls he’d overheard. And he said one time that he followed Pam and she had coffee with some man he didn’t know.”
Sean sat back against the cushions. That was one angle he’d never considered. “Did he describe what the guy looked like?”
“No. He never did.”
“There was about an hour unaccounted for between the time Tuck should’ve been home and when he actually got there. I’m talking around 9:30 to about 11:00 that night. Did he call you during that time?”
“No, I haven’t heard a word from him since he bolted out of here.”
Sean looked skeptically at her. “I need the absolute truth, Cassandra.”
“I swear. Check my phone records. I went to bed and didn’t talk to anybody.”
Sean switched off the recorder. “If I need to talk to you again, I better be able to find you.”
“Are you going to let this all come out?”
“No. At least not yet. But piece of advice. Tell Greggie to back off the contract.”
“He’s going to be really upset. He’s already paid me a lot of money.”
“That’s your problem. Why don’t you try the old bend and hold, since Greg just doesn’t seem to be a foot-in-the-crotch kind of guy.”
Sean was on a flight back to D.C. that night. He’d discovered a lot. The only trouble was he now had more questions than before.
CHAPTER 30
WILLA STAYED CLOSE to the rock wall as she flitted along the corridor, her fingers scraping over the uneven surface. She listened for any sound, watching for any glow of light. She had her own lantern turned down so low that she could barely see. It was cold, and mists of her breath trailed the young girl down the dark path. She turned a corner and stopped.
Was that someone coming? She turned off the light and flattened herself against the rock. Five minutes later she started moving again. This time she kept the light off. Her hand grazed across wood and then hit the metal. She halted, turned the light on to its lowest level. It revealed the metal lock.
Just like the one on my door.
She found enough courage to lift her hand and tap lightly on the wood. No answer. She tapped again, a bit harder.
“Who is it?” a quavering voice said from the other side.
Willa looked around and then placed her face against the door and whispered, “Are you locked in?”
She heard footsteps and then the voice said, “Who are you?”
“My name is Willa. I was locked in too but got out. I think I can get you out too. What’s your name?”
“Diane,” she whispered back.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“No.”
“Me either. Hold on.”