Read Online Thought I Knew You by Kate Moretti - Free Book Online

even if they required an extra one.” He looked thoughtful. “I’m really scratching my head here, trying to think of a reason why he would be in Rochester. We didn’t even have any training scheduled for that week taught by anyone else.”
    “What about a meeting with someone?”
    Burt shrugged. “When the police were here, I did a search of everyone’s calendar for Greg’s name. In addition, we pulled everyone who would have had reason to meet with him into the office, and the police interviewed them. Detective Reynolds said he was going to go back and interview Greg’s manager and colleagues, but I haven’t heard anything else.”
    I put my hand to my head, trying to steady my spinning thoughts.
    “I’m sorry, Claire. I wish I had more. I know you said you uncovered a detail by coming here, so I’m glad it wasn’t a wasted trip, but I do think you should go home and communicate with the detectives. I hope you figure all this out.” He stood up then, a dismissal, a polite one, but still a dismissal. Oh, your husband’s missing? Well, that stinks. Listen, I have a ten o’clock, so can we reschedule this? The corporate world turns.
    I stood and shook his hand. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’ll keep you updated. Please give me a call if something turns up.” I pulled out a business card, jotted my cell phone number on the back, and handed it to him.
    He took the card, flipped it over twice, studying the front and back, and slipped it into his shirt pocket. He coughed nervously and walked me to the door, promising to call if he learned anything.
    In the lobby, I filled Drew in on the development. He finally looked shocked, the seeds of doubt about Greg’s fidelity creeping into his eyes.
    Husband lies about business trip, goes on fake business trip, checks into hotel for fake business trip, eats Thai with mystery woman, disappears. I was starting to see the writing on the wall, and it read, Lying Cheating Bastard .

    After talking to Burt, I just wanted to leave. I felt so foolish, as half of what I found out, the police would already know. I needed to go home and meet with Detective Reynolds, who had probably found out about our adventure and wasn’t thrilled with it. What had I been thinking, that I was going to ride up to Rochester and rescue Greg from invisible kidnappers? That I would find him when the police couldn’t and magically bring him home?
    I asked Drew to drive, and I resumed my window watching. I actually felt sorry for him; this was some sad excuse for a road trip.
    When I said as much, he laughed. “Oh well. I got something I needed out of this trip, too. You think I did this all for you? Pfffffttttt…” He waved his hand.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I got to disappear for a few days,” he said. “Pardon the expression. My disappearance is temporary, of course.”
    Ah… nothing is sacred. “From who?”
    “Clients.” He shrugged. “I have my agent and potential clients cold-calling me to find out when I’m releasing more prints. You know what I called the last one? Irony. ”
    I laughed. A real laugh and it felt good. “Why Irony? ”
    “Because it contains nine photographs I took of complete poverty, not in Ethiopia or some third world country, but in New York City. It’s disgusting, and the guy who eventually bought it paid three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. He hangs the whole collection in his foyer, which I swear would hold your house. So there you go. That’s irony, right?”
    I was awed by the figure, but tried not to let it show. “If you’re so disgusted by it, why do you do it?”
    “Because what else am I going to do? I love photography, and I love making money on it. I hate that people will pay that amount of money for photographs of poverty, though. It seems criminal. I mean, that guy should have just donated three grand to charity. But he told his rich friends, and now, everyone wants pictures of poor people. It’s so