Free Just One Look by Harlan Coben Page B

up.
    “I’m not sure it’s relevant,” she began, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a copy of the photograph and passed it to Perlmutter. Perlmutter took out a pair of reading glasses, cleaned them with his shirttail, and pushed them into place. Daley walked around and bent down over the captain’s shoulder. She told them about finding the photograph mixed in with her others. The two officers stared at her as if she’d taken out a razor and started shaving her head.
    When Grace was done, Captain Perlmutter pointed to the picture and said, “And you’re sure that’s your husband?”
    “I think so.”
    “But you’re not sure?”
    “I’m pretty sure.”
    He nodded in that way people do when they think you’re a lunatic. “And the other people in the photo? The young lady somebody crossed out?”
    “I don’t know them.”
    “But your husband. He said it wasn’t him, right?”
    “Right.”
    “So if it isn’t him, well, this is irrelevant. And if it is him”-Perlmutter took off the glasses-“he lied to you. Isn’t that correct, Mrs. Lawson?”
    Her cell phone rang. Grace grabbed it fast and checked the number.
    It was Jack.
    For a moment she went very still. Grace wanted to excuse herself, but Perlmutter and Daley were both looking at her. Asking for privacy was not really an option here. She hit the answer button and brought the phone to her ear.
    “Jack?”
    “Hey.”
    The sound of his voice should have filled her with relief. It didn’t.
    Jack said, “I tried you at home. Where are you?”
    “Where am
I
?”
    “Listen, I can’t talk long. I’m sorry about running out on you like that.”
    His tone was aiming for casual, but it wasn’t hitting the mark.
    “I need a few days,” he said.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Where are you, Grace?”
    “I’m at the police station.”
    “You called the police?”
    Her eyes met Perlmutter’s. He wiggled his fingers, as if to say,
Give me the phone, little lady. I’ll handle it.
    “Look, Grace, just give me a few days. I…” Jack stopped. And then he said something that made the dread grow tenfold. “I need some space.”
    “Space,” she repeated.
    “Yes. A little space. That’s all. Please tell the police that I apologize. I have to go now. Okay? I’ll be back soon.”
    “Jack?”
    He didn’t reply.
    “I love you,” Grace said.
    But the phone was dead.

chapter 8
    Space. Jack said he needed space. And that was all wrong. Never mind that “needing space” was one of those lame, cloying, namby-pamby, New Age we-are-the-world terms that was worse than meaningless-“needing space”-a terrible euphemism for “I’m soooo outta here.” That would have been a clue perhaps, but this went much deeper.
    Grace was home now. She had mumbled an apology to Perlmutter and Daley. Both men looked at her with pity and told her that it was all part of the job. They said that they were sorry. Grace offered up a solemn nod and headed for the door.
    She had learned something crucial from the phone call.
    Jack was in trouble.
    She had not been overreacting. His disappearance had nothing to do with running away from her or fear of commitment. It was no accident. It had not been expected or planned. She had picked up the photograph from the store. Jack had seen it and run out.
    And now he was in serious danger.
    She could never explain this to the police. First off, they wouldn’t believe her. They would claim that she was either delusional or naïve to the point of a learning disability. Maybe not to her face. Maybe they would humor her, which would be both a tremendous irritant and waste of time. They’d been convinced that Jack was on the run before the call. Her explanation would not change their minds.
    And maybe that was best.
    Grace was trying to read between the lines here. Jack had been concerned about police involvement. That was obvious. When she said that she was at the police station, the regret in his voice was real. That was