Because if you say things like, ‘That’s impossible!’ They’ll ask you why it’s impossible. If you say, “But I just heard from him!” They’ll ask you what time, and what you talked about. They’ll try to engage you in conversation, but don’t fall into their trap.”

“What should I say?”

“Stare at them blankly, as if in shock and say nothing. Their best shot at tripping you up is the moment they tell you he’s dead. They’ll study your reaction and pepper you with questions that seem harmless, but can hang you later.”

“I can’t just tell them to talk to my attorney the minute they tell me Jake’s dead.”

“No. But you’re well within your rights to be in shock. If you’re in shock, it makes sense you can’t be responsive. If you feel stuck or cornered, simply pretend to faint. But don’t answer any questions. Offer no details. Confirm nothing.”

“Won’t that make them suspicious?”

“Who gives a shit?”

“Good point.”

“Okay,” Milo says. “You better get moving.”

“Apologize.”

“Excuse me?”

“Apologize.”

“For what?”

“Spying on me.”

“Oh. Look, I’m really sorry about that, Faith. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I’ll try.”

She turns to leave.

Milo says, “Don’t forget to call my cell at seven-thirty.”

“I’m not an idiot, Milo.”

“Sorry. You know me. I’m anal.”

He follows her to the garage, waits a few minutes to make sure she’s gone, then heads to her closet and goes through her underwear drawer.

5.

IT STARTED WITH the wives.

Faith, Gracie, and Wren were high school friends turning thirty. Lemon and Lexi were recently married workout buddies, twenty-four. The three met the two at yoga, and became close as sisters within months. The shopping dates, luncheons, and golf outings turned into birthday celebrations and vacations, and by then the husbands were involved. It was one of those rare situations where everyone got along, and it continued, because when you’ve got a group of ten, and two of the couples have kids, there’s always an excuse to get together.

It takes Milo twenty minutes to go through Faith’s dresser drawers and bathroom cabinets, and another ten minutes to look through her prescriptions and feminine products. He makes a mental note of her perfume, makeup, and hair products. Not because he anticipates purchasing these items for her in the future, but because…well, just because.

He’s not a pervert.

At least, not the way she implied. In other words, sure, he’ll stare at a beautiful naked woman if he gets the chance, but he has no interest in trying on her bra and panties, or anything like that.

Except that it’s on his mind now, the disgusting things perverts do. Milo wonders what type of satisfaction they could possibly derive by wearing women’s underwear.

He’d look it up on the Internet if he had the time, or had a computer handy. He could use his phone, of course, if he’d brought it, but it’s a pain trying to find and read things on such a small screen. How much easier to just try on the panties and bra and see if he can figure out what all the fuss is about.

Does he have time?

He puts the gun on the floor of Faith’s coat closet, where he hid earlier, and works the killing out in his mind. The best plan is to shoot Jake while he’s in the shower. There’s a good chance Jake will have his eyes closed or be facing away, which will make the shooting easier. Also, the shower walls and running water will help contain the blood spatter, which should prevent a number of potential crime scene problems.

Of course, when he pulls the shower door open there’ll only be three walls to contain the spatter, and Milo will be standing a few feet away.