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“I was watching the trailer today, making sure the guy in the shiny Caddy wasn’t giving you any trouble.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “I was headed over to ask you something when he pulled up and went inside.”
She hesitated for a second. “Come in, Conner,” she said.
“I don’t want to impose,” he said. But he entered the little house quickly, before she could change her mind. He was quite impressed. It was a very homey, attractive place that seemed perfect for her, and it was completely settled, pictures hung, framed photos on the buffet, a dried flower arrangement and place mats on the dining table, a throw on the end of the sectional sofa. He followed her into the kitchen where he could see Dan’s handiwork in the granite countertops and darkly stained oak cupboards.
She had been sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread out and a cup of tea beside it.
“So,” she said. “That was him—the cheerful ex, wondering why we can’t be more chummy.”
“He came out of the trailer with some white foam on his pretty shoes,” Conner said, and he couldn’t suppress a grin.
“I lost it. His utter lack of remorse, the way he takes so little responsibility for what happened, like we should all be grown-ups and overlook it. ‘But Leslie,’” she mimicked. “‘I can’t help what I feel. It’s not as if I planned for my feelings to change.’” She snorted. “Is that accurate? That we can’t help what we feel?” she asked Conner, an imploring look on her face.
“Probably,” he said. He hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “But we can help what we do.”
She took a breath. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, thanks. But I’ll sit a minute if you feel like talking. If you want to get it off your chest.”
She indicated the chair opposite hers, and she sat down. “I don’t know if this will make sense, but one of the reasons I took the job down here is so I could stop talking about it. Well, that’s not true at all—I was far from done talking about it, but my friends and family were done listening. Who can blame them after a year and a half? You know, I have friends who divorced, who have kids they have to co-parent with the ex, who have very manageable relationships with exes, and I admire them for it! What is wrong with me? Why am I not the least bit grateful that Greg wants us to be friends?”
Conner shrugged before he said, “Maybe because he considers himself totally justified?”
“You’re right. That whole business of how he just couldn’t help himself, he had no control—that’s what makes me feel like crap!”
Conner smiled at her.
“Should you smile at me when I say I feel like crap?”
He shook his head, but the smile remained. “I was just thinking, I’m not making any excuses for him—he’s a dog—but that feeling? That you just can’t help yourself? That’s a feeling I like.”
“Is that a fact?” She braced an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s good. I can still control my actions when I feel that way, however.”
“And you do that, how?”
He leaned toward her. “By being strong.” He leaned back. “There’s something I thought you’d want to know—I don’t think it’ll be a problem for you, but Paul told me and Jack that the guy who came to the trailer today was your ex and that you shot him with the fire extinguisher.”
“Swell,” she said.
“Jack was impressed. Paul didn’t give any more personal details and I didn’t let on that I knew anything. But jeez, Les, it really made me want to be a chick.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “How so?”
“That was awesome. A guy couldn’t get away with that. I wish I could’ve hosed down my ex, but I had some serious training in how women had to be treated, even if they were very bad.”
“I guess I’m going to have this reputation now....” she speculated.
He gave his head a little shake. “I think you’re going to have admiration. Paul obviously feels very protective of you.”
“The whole Haggerty family has been really good to me, especially through this. Paul’s dad, the founder of Haggerty Construction, is a tough old bear of a guy who adores his wife. They’re the most wonderful grandparents, and I take it they have very strong feelings about loyalty and commitment issues.”
“I hope most people do,” Conner said.
She reached across the table and touched his hand lightly. “Conner, I don’t think most people do,” she said. “I think maybe it’s a rare and admirable quality.”
He felt a surge of heat at her soft touch, and he looked down at her hand. It was so perfect, her nails bleached white and filed short. Her skin was flawless. He wouldn’t mind feeling those perfect, soft hands all over him.
“Here’s something you might get a kick out of,” Conner said. “Paul got right up in your ex’s grille and told him he was going in the trailer, and if you were upset he was going to hunt him down and beat the shit out of him, even if he had to go all the way to Grants Pass to do it.”
Leslie smiled happily. “He did?”
“He did. I haven’t known Paul very long, but I’ve never seen him look so scary. I thought it was a great idea.”
Leslie laughed lightly. “And to think I almost opened fire on him!”
“I heard him yell ‘Don’t shoot!’”
“I wasn’t putting that fire extinguisher down until I heard Greg’s car drive away. I should have done that a long time ago. It was the first time I got so angry.”
“If he comes back and bothers you again, he’s mentally challenged.”
“You’d think so, huh?” she said. “Conner, I think Greg is a narcissist. He’s not a mean guy, at least not overtly. But everything is all about him, I see that now. He pays a lot of compliments, sucks up a lot, strokes a lot of people—influential and even not so influential—and it’s all so he gets what he wants.”
“And what the hell could he possibly want with you?”
“The perfect divorce. He has lots of image concerns. While we were married he wanted everyone to think we had the perfect marriage. He said he hoped to be a role model, to be admired, in business, in relationships and hopefully one day in a larger political arena than even the City Council. It’s very important to him to be respected. When I caught him cheating, he fessed up at once and all within the course of one hour explained how he’d fallen in love despite his intentions, he couldn’t help it, would be divorcing me and marrying her but that we would always be best friends because he would never stop loving me. He would just have to stop being married to me because his feelings had changed and he was going through a life transition. Oh—and as he put it—I wouldn’t want him to live a lie or be unhappy for the rest of his life, would I?”
“Wow.” Conner thought he couldn’t be more surprised by things like this, especially after what he’d gone through with Samantha. “Do you mind if I ask you? If it’s none of my business, just say so. But how’d you catch him?”
“Modern technology and celebrity gossip. I thought the whole idea that someone who was cheating on his wife would have a lot of incriminating texts on his cell phone was completely ludicrous. Especially famous someones. It actually made me laugh! How could anyone be that stupid? So just out of curiosity while Greg was in the shower, I read his texts. I didn’t expect to find anything. A lot were from me and his office and bingo, a lot of sexy snippets with someone named Allison. While he was blow-drying his hair, I texted her from his phone. I told her I wanted to lick her whole body, and she texted back that it was right where he left it, waiting and ready.”
Conner couldn’t help it, the laughter rumbled out of him and made his eyes water. “You didn’t do that,” he said.
“I did so. Greg was mortified.”
“Wow,” Conner said again, wiping his eyes. “Yeah. Mortified. He must have wanted to be caught.”
“I don’t know about that, but he was definitely ready to be caught. It turned out we had very few assets. And his new wife is an attorney.”
Conner shook his head. “There must have been no sharp objects in the house....”
“I was in shock for a while. I actually thought he’d come back to me. That didn’t last long.” She sipped her tea. “It was nice of you to check on me, Conner. But I’m fine. Totally fine.”
“You’re not in shock anymore.”
“Indeed not. So what did you want to ask me?”
“Oh. That. I was wondering if you were headed to that yoga class tomorrow, since it’s Saturday. Because I could be headed to that coffee shop at about the same time. And maybe this time we could get off on a better foot, as in, you not furious with me.”
“No,” she said. “Tomorrow I’m getting my exercise in the yard. I’m planting flowers. It’s spring. And I’m settling in.”
Five
Saturday started with a summons to Brie’s house. His landlord, Luke Riordan, the owner of the cabins, knocked on Conner’s door and said, “I have a message for you to call Brie when you’re up.”
“I’m up,” he said. “Is your phone available?”
Brie wanted him to come to brunch. He honestly didn’t know if that was code for something else, he just accepted the invitation. It turned out to be code for something else.
“I’ll give you breakfast,” Brie said. “But you’re going to call Max from my office phone. I spoke to him an hour ago. He just wants to update you.”
Regis Mathis, out on bail and his case in the capable hands of one of the best defense attorneys in the West, seemed to be keeping a very low-profile. When he was seen in public, he had lots of men around him. Bodyguards, perhaps.
“How is it he’s out of jail? I saw him kill a man and then he threatened to kill me. And we know he burned down the store!”
“Unfortunately, we don’t know as much about that as you might think. It’s not his voice on your answering machine, which should come as no surprise.”
“No, the surprise is why he would dirty his own hands in the killing when obviously he didn’t need to. He was locked up when the store burned down, so we know he knows people who could do his killing for him.”
“I have some theories about that,” Max said. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it any further—we’re still investigating. Confidentially, we’re looking into some connections between Mathis and Randolph. But it’s early....”
“When can we get this circus over with?” Conner asked.
“Looks like a trial date of May twenty-fifth if there aren’t any more defense delay tactics, but I think you can count on the defense doing everything they can to slow the process. They’ve already been hammering us with motions.”
“Great,” Conner said.
“Listen, they’re caught and they know it. The blood in the car belonged to the victim, it was a good warrant, there’s an impartial eyewitness, there might have been trouble between the two men—therefore motive… There’s no way out of this for him, Conner. But he’s not going to go down quickly or quietly. You have to prepare yourself for that.”
“How long could it take?” Conner asked.
“I’d hate to speculate. The judge is a hanging judge and won’t tolerate a lot of paper delays, that’s in our favor. Just sit tight and let’s hope for the best. Our biggest problem is going to be jury selection.”
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