Holly didn’t look like that anymore.
Bree was going to have to explain it to him. Her face went grimmer. “May we sit down?”
Owen nodded, fear clouding his eyes. Matt and Bree slid into chairs facing him.
Bree began, “Owen, the remains were found at the edge of the river. She had been in the water for several days. Submersion and time change the physical appearance—”
He groaned, interrupting Bree. Resting his elbows on the table, Owen dropped his head into his hands. If he was crying, it was silent. Maybe he’d reached the end of his ability to absorb the gruesome truth. The quiet ticked by, punctuated only by Owen’s deep, quivering inhalations. Finally, he lifted his head and swallowed. “Does this mean there’s a chance that Holly might still be alive?”
Pity shone in Bree’s eyes. “That’s extremely unlikely. I’m sorry. But in order to complete a death certificate, the medical examiner will need verification. Does your wife wear any jewelry?”
“Her wedding band.” Owen coughed, then swallowed.
“Can you describe it?” Bree pulled out her phone.
“It’s silver with a stripe.” He lifted his hand and showed them his own. “It matches mine.”
Bree opened her phone and showed it to him. “Is this it?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds. Opening them, he nodded.
Matt glanced at the picture. The rings matched.
“Does your wife have a local dentist?” she asked.
“No,” Owen answered. “She’s terrified of them. She hasn’t seen one since she was a kid.”
Bree frowned. “Does she have a doctor?”
Owen gave her a name.
Bree made a note in her phone. “Either the medical examiner or I will keep you apprised on the official identification process. I’d like to take your wife’s hairbrush and toothbrush with us.”
He nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He gestured toward the nearby stairwell and choked out, “Sure. Her stuff is on the left side of the sink.” His shoulders slumped, and his hands fell into his lap.
She took a small notepad and pen from her pocket. “When was the last time you saw or spoke to your wife?”
“Friday night around six or six thirty. I don’t know the exact time.” Owen’s tone had gone flat. “We had an argument. She walked out.”
“Did she say where she was going?” Bree asked.
Owen shook his head.
Bree took notes. “When did you expect her to return?”
His shoulders lifted and fell in a jerky motion. His gaze dropped to his hands, still in his lap. “She packed a bigger bag than usual.”
One of Bree’s eyebrows lifted. “This has happened before?”
Owen gave them a short nod. “It’s no secret we fought. She’d left a couple of times before. She usually went to her sister’s place for a few days. But she always came back after she’d cooled off.”
“Did you call her over the weekend?” Bree asked.
Owen didn’t respond right away. Nor did he lift his gaze to meet Bree’s. Was he hiding something, or was he simply uncomfortable with the answer to her question—that he didn’t try to locate or find his wife, and she killed herself?
“No,” he finally said. “I was determined not to beg this time. I did all the apologizing. Never Holly.” His jaw jutted forward, then he stared at the floor.
“What did you do after Holly left?” Matt prompted, hoping to jar Owen out of his own head.
“I walked down to the Grey Fox.” He looked up. “That’s a bar a few blocks from here.”
Matt nodded. “How long did you stay there?”
Owen glanced away again. “I don’t know. I woke up the next day on Billy’s couch—he’s the bartender. I don’t even remember what time that was.” His pale cheeks flushed. “I drank a lot of Jack Daniel’s.” He quieted, contemplative again.
Bree jumped back in. “What did you and Holly fight about?”
“The usual.” His tone went bitter. “Money.” A whole-body sigh heaved through him. “We’re behind on the bills. Holly’s mother is dying, and insurance covers a lot less than you’d think. We’ve been splitting the costs with Shannon—that’s Holly’s sister—but the bills are killing us.”
“So, you don’t want to pay for her mother’s care?” Bree asked.
“Geez, no. That’s not it. I don’t want anything to do with those decisions. She’s not my mom.” Owen lifted his hands palms out, in a back-off gesture. “I can’t even visit her. Her place smells like death. It makes me sick.” His face creased in disgust. He gave his head a small shake, as if physically clearing it of the memories. “I keep telling Holly that her sister needs to pay the biggest portion of her mom’s bills. We’re using credit cards for groceries, and Holly’s paying a thousand dollars a month for nursing services. We don’t have that kind of disposable income. Our debt is climbing every month. I’ve already spoken with a lawyer about declaring bankruptcy. I don’t see any way out from under our bills. On top of that, Holly isn’t the best at keeping to our budget. She likes to shop.” Anger colored his cheeks as he looked around his kitchen. “This place isn’t much, but it’s our home, and we’re probably going to lose it.”
“Did Holly understand your financial situation?” Matt asked.
“Yes. She’s a bookkeeper. She understands money.” He frowned, as if unsure. “She wasn’t being rational. I know she’s been depressed about her mom and shit, but it was like she couldn’t reconcile what she knew to be true with what she wanted to be true. And Shannon just keeps pressuring us for more money.” He covered his mouth with his fist. His shoulders shook as he fought back a sob.
As if by silent agreement, Matt and Bree gave Owen a minute to compose himself. Then Matt switched gears to a less sensitive topic. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m the assistant branch manager of Randolph Savings and Loan,” Owen said in a tired voice. “The branch on Plymouth Street.”
Matt asked, “Did you go to work today?”
“No, I called in sick.” He looked ashamed. “Before you ask, I don’t make a habit of it.”
“And where did Holly work?” Bree asked.
“She’s a bookkeeper for Beckett Construction.” Owen’s eyes drooped. Grief was exhausting. Any adrenaline surge he’d experienced from the night’s stress had clearly drained away.
Now that Owen had calmed, Matt circled back to the family drama. “Did you talk to Holly’s sister over the weekend?”
“Shannon?” Owen’s brows shot up.
“Yes,” Matt said. “You said that’s where your wife previously went when you’d had a fight.”
“I wouldn’t call Shannon unless you put a gun to my head, although I guess I’ll have to now.” Bitterness pursed Owen’s lips. “She hates me.”
Bree made a note. “Do you know why?”
“Probably because Holly has bad-mouthed me to her so many times in the past,” Owen snapped.