Sasha McCandless 03 - Irretrievably Broken Read Online Free PDF Page A

closed, but I saw the light coming out from under the doors. I knocked. I wanted to say good night. Just, you know, out of courtesy.”
    Sasha wasn’t familiar with proper etiquette for estranged spouses who lived together, so she assumed that was reasonable. “Go on,” she said.
    “Ellen didn’t answer, which was annoying. I thought we could at least be civil, so I pushed the door open and ...” he trailed off, staring down at the bare wood floor in the center of the room.
    He closed his eyes and gave his head one quick shake, then he looked up at Sasha, but she knew he was seeing Ellen. His eyes were dull and distant.
    “She was lying there, on the floor. Well, she was on the rug, but the police took it. Evidence. It was covered in blood. She was covered in blood. Her face and neck were just … red. She wasn’t moving. I stood there for a long time. I don’t know how long. Then I went to her. I felt for a pulse. She was warm; blood was still pouring out of her. It was pooling on the rug. I used the desk phone and called 911. Then I sat there, where you are. And waited.”
    “Did you touch anything?”
    “No, just Ellen. And the phone.”
    Sasha shifted on the window bench. She wanted to leave. To get out of this room and think through Greg’s story, away from him.
    He was pale and shaking.
    “Okay, let’s get out of here.”
    They walked out of the office. He banged the pocket doors shut.
    She led him back to the pair of chairs by the fireplace. He lowered himself into a chair and reached for the decanter with still-shaking hands. She took the other seat.
    “How about a cup of tea? Or some water?” Sasha said.
    So far, Greg wasn’t the most likable person, and she was certain he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. But, she wasn’t convinced he’d killed his wife, and there was no denying he was shaken by having to relive finding her body.
    He responded with a snort and poured himself another glass of scotch.
    He kept his eyes on his drink and said, “Are you going to take my case?”
    She ignored the question. “Who do you think killed your wife?”
    “I don’t know, a random intruder?”
    “With your straight razor? Which was where—in the second floor bathroom?”
    “Actually, third floor. But, I don’t know that it was my straight razor. It was a straight razor.”
    He narrowed his eyes and threw back his head. He drained his glass in one long gulp.
    Sasha’s throat burned just from watching.
    “Your razor was missing, though, when the police searched?”
    “Yes.”
    “So, a random intruder killed your wife with a straight razor he brought to the scene, left it in the trash, and then took yours from the third floor bathroom?”
    Greg stared at her for a long moment, started to speak, and then shrugged.
    “Anything else missing?”
    “No.”
    “Were either of you seeing anyone else?”
    Sasha hadn’t heard anything about an affair, but she was a step removed from the gossip. Maybe Ellen had had a boyfriend who wasn’t wild about the fact that Greg was still living in the house.
    “No.”
    “Are you sure she wasn’t?”
    He moved forward and put his thin face up to hers. “I’m sure.”
    She leaned back. “Why did Ellen want a divorce?”
    He answered her with a question. “Why is that relevant?”
    “It’s relevant because the prosecution will paint you as enraged because your wife wanted to end your marriage. I’d like to know why it was ending.”
    He pursed his lips but said nothing.
    Sasha stood. She didn’t intend to play this game; if Greg wouldn’t talk to her, he could find a different attorney.  She dug around in her bag until she found her small, black umbrella. Then she slung the bag across her chest and turned to Greg, who remained in the chair.
    “Thank you for meeting with me. I know it wasn’t easy talking about what happened to Ellen,” she said.
    He looked up at her, no emotion on his face. “Will you talk to my divorce attorney if I ask her to call