I heard the rustle of papers in his background, then a low sigh.

“Clara, people know what kind of ingredients high-end food bloggers use,” Harris said.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “This bottle isn’t in any of the photos.”

“I kept it deep inside the pantry.”

“The pantry door was closed until ten minutes ago.”

“Are you sure you didn’t mention it in an older post?” Harris asked.

“I am positive,” I said.

“Julian bought that case of oil.”

“I never wrote about it.”

“I see,” Harris said.

His tone was flat, lacking the urgency I expected.

“Have you seen any sign of Julian near the house today?” he asked.

“No,” I said, looking out the kitchen window into the dark backyard.

“But he knows this place.”

“He designed the entire smart home system before we separated.”

I looked up at the ceiling.

In the far corner of the kitchen, near the crown molding, a small black dome housed the security camera.

The glass lens reflected the light from the pendant lamps.

“We have the protective order in place, Clara,” Harris said.