"It's about Marsha? Has there been something new?" He turned his face, briefly, into the white-blonde hair of the little girl he carried. "I'm sorry, come in. It's been so long since anyone's gotten in touch about what happened. If you want to sit down, I'd like to settle my daughter in the other room. I'd rather she didn't..."
This time it was his hand that moved to the girl's hair. Protectively. "Just give me a minute."
Eve waited until they'd left the room. "How old's the kid, Peabody?"
"About two, I'd say."
Eve nodded and moved into the living area. There were toys strewn about the floor and cheery furnishings.
She heard a high-pitched, childish giggle, and a firm demand. "Daddy! Play!"
"In a little while, Trade. You play now, and when Mommy gets home maybe we'll go out to the park. But you have to be good while I talk to these ladies. Deal?"
"Swings?"
"You bet."
When he came back, he ran both hands through his own dark blond hair. "I didn't want her to hear us talk about Marsha, about what happened. Has there been a break? Have you finally found him?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stibbs. This is a routine followup."
"Then there's nothing? I'd hoped ... I guess it's stupid after all this time to think you'd find him."
"You have no idea who your wife was having an affair with."
"She wasn't." He bit the words off, fury leaping onto his face and turning it hard. "I don't care what anyone says. She wasn't having an affair. I never believed ... At first I did, I guess, when everything was crazy and I couldn't think straight. Marsha wasn't a liar, she wasn't a cheater. And she loved me."
He closed his eyes, seemed to draw himself in. "Can we sit down?"
He dropped into a chair. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I can't stand people saying that about Marsha. I can't stand knowing people, friends, think it of her. She doesn't deserve that."
"There were letters found in her drawer."
"I don't care about the letters. She wouldn't have cheated on me. We had ..."
He glanced back toward the child's room where the little girl was singing tunelessly. "Look, we had a good sex life. One of the reasons we married so young was that we couldn't keep our hands off each other, and Marsha believed strongly in marriage. I'll tell you what I think." He leaned forward. "I think someone was obsessed with her, fantasized or something. He must have sent her those letters. I'll never know why she didn't tell me. Maybe, I guess maybe, she didn't want to worry me. I think he came here when I was in Columbus, and he killed her because he couldn't have her."
He was registering high on the sincere meter, Eve thought. Such things could be feigned, but where was the point here? Why insist the victim was pure when painting her with adultery served the purpose? "If that was the case, Mr. Stibbs, you still have no idea who that person might be?"
"None. I've thought about it. For the first year afterward, I hardly thought about anything else. I wanted to believe he'd be found and punished, that there'd be some kind of payment for what he did. We were happy, Lieutenant. We didn't have a goddamn care in the world. And then, it was over." He pressed his lips together. "Just over."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stibbs." Eve waited a beat. "That's a cute kid."
"Trade?" He passed a hand over his face as if coming back to the present. "The light of my life."
"So you remarried."
"Almost three years ago." He let out a sigh, gave his shoulders a little shake. "Maureen's great. She and Marsha were friends. She's one of the ones who helped me through that first year. I don't know what I'd've done without her."
Even as he spoke, the front door opened. A pretty brunette with an armful of groceries kicked the door shut with her foot. "Hey, team! I'm home. You'll never guess what I..."
She trailed off when she saw Eve and Peabody. And as her gaze fastened on Peabody's uniform, Eve saw fear jolt over her face.
CHAPTER TWO
Boyd must have seen it, too, as he got up and crossed to her quickly. "Nothing's wrong." He touched her arm, a light gesture of reassurance before he took the bags from her. "They're just here about Marsha. For a routine followup."
"Oh, well... Trade?"