Stella took the chair facing Adam. Brody backed up and leaned on the counter.
“She said she went to heroin because oxy wasn’t enough for her pain. She’d built up a tolerance.” Adam took a deep swallow of liquor. “The second I found out, I got her into rehab.” Was he trying to convince Stella or himself that he’d done his best?
“Was it an inpatient rehab center?” Stella asked.
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Where?”
He frowned. “It’s been years. It had a long name. New Life something.”
“The New Life Center for Hope?”
“That sounds right. Dena did well there. Everything seemed to be working out for us. She found her new physical therapist, who seemed to help her get some relief from the pain with diet, exercise, and meditation. She joined Narcotics Anonymous. She still goes to a meeting almost every night.”
“Do you know where she attended meetings?” Stella held her breath.
“The Catholic church. Our Lady of Sorrows.” He sipped his drink. “I can’t believe she went back to using, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
“Dena was moving forward. She didn’t have any interest in going back to being an addict. She told me once that she never wanted to feel that out of control again. It had been terrifying for her.” Adam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Had your wife been tested for drug use lately?” Stella asked.
He hesitated. “Not officially.”
“What do you mean, officially?”
Staring at his glass, Adam spun the tumbler on the tabletop. “I administered tests to her here at home.”
“At home?”
“Yes. You can buy the kits at the drug store. It’s a simple urine test. Gives you the results in minutes.” He tossed back the remaining whiskey and slammed the glass onto the table. “I did it randomly for her own good. I had to make sure she stayed clean.”
“Did she ever test positive?” Stella couldn’t imagine her significant other forcing her to pee in a cup.
“I feel responsible for not getting her help sooner. How did I not know she was using heroin? What kind of husband pays that little attention to his wife? I couldn’t allow her to fail again.”
Stella shifted her weight forward. “Why didn’t you mention your wife’s former addiction before?”
Adam stiffened. “That was years ago. I doubt it’s relevant. I wanted to find my wife while she was still alive. But you let her die.” He pointed at Stella’s nose, his finger inches from her face.
Guilt was an anvil on Stella’s shoulders. He was right. She hadn’t found Dena and now the woman was dead.
“You need to back off, Mr. Miller,” Brody said quietly.
Adam dropped his hand, but his focus remained fixed on Stella. “Listen up, bitch. I’m through with you. Either arrest me or get the fuck out of my house. If you want to question me again, make an appointment to talk to me through my lawyer. I’ll have him call your boss.” He jumped to his feet and gestured to the hall. Brody and Stella left the house. The door slammed shut behind them, and the deadbolt shot home.
Stella stared at the house. Frustration pounded in her temple.
Brody steered her back into the car. “None of this is your fault. We’ll get him to the police station for an interview. It will just take a little longer than we’d planned.”
“What if he’s right?” Stella asked. “What if I’ve been wasting time investigating him when a stranger took his wife?”
“His behavior has been suspicious since the beginning,” Brody assured her. “And you haven’t neglected looking for other suspects. You even arrested one, but Adam’s name keeps coming up.”
“He has an alibi.” She moved toward the car, her stomach twisted and sick.
“His alibi is weak.” Brody’s voice rose. “Dena Miller’s death is not your fault.”
If she’d been a better detective, she could have saved Dena’s life. And if her aim had been truer last November, she could have prevented the deaths of two cops. But she’d come up short both times, and that knowledge would weigh on her forever.
But Stella didn’t admit that to Brody. “I guess I can’t get a roster of everyone in that NA group.”
“I think they take the anonymous seriously,” Brody said.
“Dena and Missy were also admitted to the same rehab center, although their stays were a year apart.” Stella reached for her car door handle. “I already ran background checks on Dr. Randolph and his assistant, Reilly Warren. They were both clean. Maybe I should dig deeper. I wish privacy laws didn’t prevent us from getting the medical records of the other patients.”