“Of course. We understand.” Detective Katz opens up a manila folder and thumbs through the pages. “Here we go. We just want to go over a few of the details of your earlier statement. You said you met Mr. Avery for the first time on Saturday night, at the party at Daisy Gordon’s house. Is that correct?” Katz pushes the paper toward Detective Lopez, who picks it up and scans it.
“Yes. That’s right.”
The two exchange a glance. “And you also stated that you had no prior relationship with Mr. Avery,” Detective Lopez says, “via any applications or social media platforms, correct?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Yes.”
“Are you on Tinder, Ms. Ross?” she asks, boring into me with dark eyes.
“No, I am not.” I take a deep breath. “I am aware, however, that there is a fake profile of me on Tinder.”
Detective Lopez puckers her lips as if she’s just tasted something sour. “And when were you made aware of this fake profile?”
“This morning, actually. My sister found it.”
Detective Katz pushes the yellow legal pad toward me. “Can we get your sister’s name and contact info, please?”
“Have you contacted Tinder?” Lopez asks.
“Yes, I have.” I finish jotting down Krystle’s info and push the pad back across the table.
Lopez turns her phone face up and taps at it. Then she pushes it across the table toward me. A quick glance confirms what I suspected. Me in that damn bikini.
“That’s it,” I say without touching it.
“Is it your position that you did not write any of the messages coming from this profile?”
“Yes.”
“Were you aware that whoever made this profile has been in regular contact with Robert Avery over the past five weeks?”
A warmth rises in me. I think of what Mark said about coming clean. “No. But I’m not totally surprised. On Saturday night, Rob said something to me about staying off Tinder, and I had no idea what he meant. Now it makes sense.”
Detective Lopez leans back in her chair. “He told you to stay off Tinder? You didn’t mention that earlier.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
Lopez bites her lip hard. She doesn’t have to say anything. My credibility has just tanked with her.
“All righty,” Katz says. “Let’s start at the beginning of the night, the party, and even if it seems completely irrelevant and minor, why don’t you walk us through everything that happened?”
I tell them everything to the best of my recollection, stating the facts of what happened upstairs in the bathroom as coolly as I can. “And I was very upset, of course, so we left. We went home.”
“You were upset because your husband saw you leaving the bathroom with Mr. Avery.”
“No,” I snap. And then add more calmly, “I was upset because of what Rob did. My husband has been wonderful. Very supportive.”
“Ms. Ross, I’m going to ask you point-blank, one more time, were you having an affair with Robert Avery?”
I bristle. “I’ve answered that question several times now. The answer is no.” I look at my phone. It’s almost six. I need to get home now if I am going to make it to this birthday dinner on time. There will be no time for a shower, let alone a nap, but I don’t want to stay here any longer. I pull my bag onto my lap, realizing my hands are trembling. “I have to go. I have dinner plans.”
“We’re not quite done here, Ms. Ross. Let me ask you, do you use zolpidem?”
The question stuns me. “Do I what?”
“Zolpidem, brand name Ambien. The sleep aid. Ever used it?”
I blink. I have used it a few times, in Chicago last year. A doctor prescribed it for me during the stress of readying for our move, but I stopped using it when I realized it made me groggy the next day. But the police couldn’t know this, could they? “No, not really.”
“Which is it?” Lopez asks. “No, or not really?”
I’m confused. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Ms. Ross, did you order liquid zolpidem from a Canadian pharmacy and have it delivered to your house on September … hold on.” Detective Lopez holds up a finger as she scans the legal pad in front of her. “September 20?”
“No. No I didn’t.” The specificity of the question chills me. I didn’t even know liquid Ambien existed. But now it’s obvious—Rob Avery was poisoned with it. Janelle from book club said her friend told her he had been drugged. I stand up, adrenaline rushing through me. “Am I allowed to leave or not?”
Lopez’s eyes shoot up. “You’re not under arrest, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I nod. I guess that’s what I was asking.
“We’ll be in touch, Ms. Ross.”
It’s not until I am outside in the cool evening air, waiting for my Uber to come, that I stop shaking.
I realize that I made a terrible mistake not calling Artie Zucker.
As soon as I climb out of the Uber, Cole and Mark emerge from our house wearing khakis and pink dress shirts.
“Mommy!” Cole runs to me. I bend down and hug him a little harder than usual. “We’re both wearing pink!” he yells in my ear. “Go put on something pink and we can all match.”
Mark looks confused. “Where’s your car?”
“At work.” I look from Mark to Cole and back again. “I’ll explain later.”
I quickly run upstairs and wash my face. I trade in my sweaty clothes for a nice blouse. It’s not as good as a shower. A little lip gloss and a spritz of perfume, and I am presentable. At least from the outside. Inside, I am churning.
A few minutes later, we are all in Mark’s car heading toward downtown Bethesda. Cole is yammering on about his family tree, and as long as he is not peppering me with questions, I don’t mind the chatter. I use the
