soft blonde hair and eyes bluer than any blue he'd ever seen, eyes with a certain pinpoint of light deep within them. Lieutenant Craig didn't even know Gracie existed, and that was how Seabold wanted it.
He thought back to when he'd met Police Lieutenant Craig. Seabold had instinctively disliked the man from the first time he had looked at him across the threshold.
It was an unseasonably wintery day, and the lieutenant was wearing a heavy topcoat with the collar turned up against the few icy flecks of snow that danced in the air.
His hand had been moving to ring the doorbell again when Seabold opened the door, and he returned the hand to his coat pocket and narrowed his eyes above his long hawkish nose.
"Mr. Seabold?" Craig said.
Seabold nodded, and for the first time noticed the other man behind the lieutenant.
"I'm Lieutenant John Craig, Police Department." He quickly flashed his credentials. "Is Mrs. Seabold in?"
"No, she isn't," Seabold said. "She's away visiting relatives right now." He added in a worried voice, "Nothing's...happened, has it?" "Not to our knowledge," Craig said. "You mind if we step in?' Seabold moved the door a few inches nearer to the closed position and shook his head. "I'm busy right now, if you don't mind." Craig's eyes strained to see inside. "Could you answer a few questions?"
"Really," Seabold said, "I don't have time."
"You're being very uncooperative, Mr. Seabold. How long has your wife been gone?"
"Since last Saturday," Seabold said quickly. "Last Saturday. Now really...he began to close the door.
"And is she here in town?" Lieutenant Craig asked sharply.
The door stopped. "No, she's with her cousin in Seattle."
"What's her cousin's name?"
"Rogers, I think," Seabold said, "Donna Rogers."
"You think?"
"If you don't mind, Lieutenant...The door closed to within an inch of the frame.
"We'll be back, Mr. Seabold," came the voice from outside with the cold draft. "We'll he back with a warrant."
"You don't need a warrant," Seabold said. "I'll be glad to talk to you later, when I have time." Gently he shut the door all the way and stood with his ear pressed hard against it.
But Lieutenant Craig and the policeman with him didn't exchange a word. After a minute or so Seabold could hear their footsteps on the cement walk that led to the street.
Through a crack in the drawn curtains he watched the gray unmarked police car pull away and turn the corner in the next block. Could they have known he was listening?
It didn't take Lieutenant Craig long. He was back late that afternoon with a search warrant and the same policeman who'd accompanied him earlier, a lethargic looking man he introduced as Sergeant Tompkins.
This time Seabold opened the door wide and invited them to step inside. He led them to the living room and sat in a chair across from the two of them sitting on the sofa.
Lieutenant Craig removed his hat to reveal thinning black hair. "Has Mrs. Seabold returned?" he asked.
Seabold shook his head. "She intends to be gone for some time, I think."
Lieutenant Craig stared at Seabold, while the sergeant was looking slowly about the room as if someone had said something and he was trying to locate the owner of the voice.
"I'll be honest with you," the lieutenant said finally. "We got an anonymous phone call this morning telling us foul play had been done to your wife. We get calls like that pretty often. Sometimes they mean something, usually they don't. But combined with your actions this afternoon. . .you can see where we'd be suspicious, I'm sure."
Seabold nodded thoughtfully. "But Nina's in Seattle, with her cousin."
"Would it be possible for you to call her long distance?"
"It would," Seabold said, "only I can't remember the name and address of her cousin."
Lieutenant Craig sighed and crossed his legs. A very serious look suddenly appeared on the sergeant's face, as if he suddenly remembered he'd left the gas on at home.
Seabold bowed his head and stared for a long time
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