I said nothing.

“Who’s not who she claims to be?” Natalie asked. “Who took on the identity of some kid who got hit by a car way back when?”

I felt the ground starting to swallow me up.

“Who the hell is your wife, really, and what did you do to piss her off so badly that she’d want to frame you for her murder?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Natalie Bondurant rolled her eyes. “There isn’t a husband on the planet whose wife hasn’t thought of killing him at one time or another. But this is different. This takes things to a whole new level.”

“But why?” I asked. “I mean, if she didn’t love me anymore, if she wanted out of the marriage, why not just leave? Tell me it’s over and walk away? Why do something as elaborate as what you’re suggesting?”

Natalie mulled that one over. “Because there’s more to this. Because it isn’t enough for her to get away. She doesn’t want anyone to come looking for her. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s alive. No one’s going to come looking for her if they figure she’s dead.”

“But I’d come looking for her,” I said. “She’d have to know I’d do everything I could to find her.”

“Kind of hard to do from a jail cell,” Natalie said. “And if the cops think they’ve closed this thing, so what if they haven’t actually got a body? They’ve got you, their work is done. And your Jan’s off living a new life somewhere.”

I sat, numb, in Natalie’s leather chair.

“I can’t believe it,” I said. “She couldn’t have set it all up.” I struggled to get my head around it. “What about that Lake George trip? How could she have known I was going to go there Friday to meet that source?”

Natalie shrugged. “Who knows? And who the hell ran off with Ethan at Five Mountains? Who caused that distraction? How does Leanne Kowalski fit in? No idea. But right now, based on what you’ve told me, the only thing that makes sense is that your wife is behind this. She wanted to get away, and she wanted you to be her cover story. Her patsy. Her fall guy. And she’s done a pretty fantastic job of it, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Why would she do this to me?” I whispered. But there was a bigger question. “Why would she do this to Ethan?”

Natalie crossed her arms and thought about that a moment.

“Maybe,” she said, “because she’s not a very nice person.”

“Something’s wrong,” Jan said.

They were sitting in a Braintree McDonald’s on Pearl Street. Dwayne had ordered two double-sized Big Macs, a chocolate shake, and a large order of fries. Jan had bought only a coffee, and even that she wasn’t touching.

His mouth full, Dwayne said, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s too much.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too much money.”

Jan could see fries and bun and special sauce when Dwayne said, “If you don’t want your half, I’ll take it off your hands.”

“Why would he offer us so much right away?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Dwayne said, continuing to talk with his mouth full, “he knew the stuff was worth a hell of a lot more and he’s actually cheating us.”

A woman about Jan’s age, with a small boy in tow, sat down two tables over. The boy, maybe four or five years old, perched himself on the chair and swung his legs a good foot above the floor. Jan watched as his mother put a Happy Meal in front of him and unwrapped his cheeseburger. The boy put a single fry into his mouth like he was a sword swallower, leaning back, pointing the fry in slowly.

Jan was just turning to look at Dwayne again when she heard the woman say, “Don’t be silly, Ethan.”

Jan whipped her head to the side. Did she hear that right?

The mother said, “Can you open your milk, Nathan, or do you want me to do it?”

“I can do it,” he said.

“You just worry too much,” Dwayne said. “We’ve been waiting years for this moment and now you’re getting all antsy.”

“I never expected that kind of money,” Jan said quietly. “Come on. The stuff is hot. You’re never going to get retail value for it, you’re not even going to get wholesale. Best you can expect is maybe ten percent, okay, maybe twenty.”

“That’s probably what he was offering us,” Dwayne said. “What we got could be worth way, way more than we can even imagine.”

“He didn’t even look at all the diamonds,” she said. “He only looked at a few.”

“He did a random sampling, and he was impressed,” Dwayne said authoritatively, putting his mouth over the end of the straw and sucking hard. “Fuck, these are hard to get up.”

The mother glanced over at Dwayne.

“Watch your language,” Jan said. She looked over and smiled apologetically. The mother was not pleased. Nathan did not appear to have noticed. He was holding his cheeseburger firmly with both hands as he took his first bite.

“Chill out,” Dwayne said. “You think the kid’s never heard that word before?”

“He might not have,” Jan whispered. “If she’s a good mother, watches who he hangs out with, makes sure he doesn’t watch anything bad on TV.”

She thought about how upset David had gotten when his mother allowed Ethan to watch Family Guy. A smile crossed her lips ever so briefly.

“What?” Dwayne asked.

“Nothing,” she said and refocused. “I just don’t like it.”

“Okay,” Dwayne said, actually allowing his mouth to empty before continuing. “What exactly is the downside? So maybe he’s offering us more than you were expecting. What are you worried about? That he’s going to come after us later and ask for some of his money back?”

“No, I don’t think he’s going ask for some of his money back,” she said. “Did you see the photos on his wall?”

Dwayne shook his head. “I didn’t notice.”

Jan thought, There’s a lot you don’t notice.

Dwayne glanced at his watch. “Couple of hours, we go pick up our money. I was thinking, to kill time, we go find some place that sells boats.”

“I want to find a jewelry store,” Jan said.

“What? If you want a diamond, I’m sure you could keep one of the ones we’ve got. There’s so fucking many, Banny Boy won’t even notice if he’s one short.”

The woman shot Dwayne another look. He returned it, and said, in an exaggerated fashion, “Sorry.”

“I don’t want to buy something,” Jan said. “I want a second opinion.”

The woman was gathering up her son’s lunch onto the tray and moving them to another table on the other side of the restaurant.

Dwayne, shaking his head, said to Jan, “You know, if you don’t allow your kids to be exposed to certain things, they’re not going to grow up ready to face the world.”

“This is a dumb idea,” Dwayne said as they sat in the truck out front of Ross Jewelers, a storefront operation with black iron bars over the windows and door.

“I want someone else to have a look at them,” Jan said. “If this guy in here looks at a few and says they’re worth such and such, then I’ll know what we’re being offered isn’t out of whack.”

“And if we find out they’re worth even more, when we go back we’ll just have to renegotiate,” Dwayne said. “We’ll tell him the price has gone up.”

Jan still had the bag of diamonds in her purse.

“Don’t you go thinking about sneaking out a back door,” Dwayne said. “Half those diamonds are mine.”

“Why would I run off with them now when someone has promised to give us six mil for them?”

“Did I tell you that was my lucky number?”

Only for about the hundredth time.

Jan got out of the truck, opened the outer door of the jewelry store, and stepped into a small alcove. There was a second door that was locked. Through the iron bars and glass, Jan could see into the store, but not get in. There was a woman in her fifties or sixties, well dressed with a hairdo that appeared to have been pumped up with air, behind the counter. She pressed a button and suddenly her voice filled the alcove.