“You don’t look it.”
With exasperation, she said, “I’m as all right as a person could be under the circumstances.”
“Which circumstances? Last night or—”
“Going to the morgue.”
“First time for you?”
“Yes. And I hope my last. I didn’t think it necessary, but Sergeant Lester was insistent.”
“He relayed a message from the chief of police?”
“How’d you know?”
“I got one, too, along with a hand-delivered letter from Chet’s widow.” He gave her the broad-strokes version of the note’s contents, leaving out the accolades to himself. “I wanted to distance myself from the shooting and the resulting investigation. But it was impossible to refuse an emotional appeal from her.”
“I went to see her today. The house was overflowing with her children and grandchildren, friends. She has a staunch group of supporters.”
“But her husband is dead, murdered.”
She nodded, and didn’t speak for several seconds, then returned to talking about the morgue visit. “It was a wasted trip. I didn’t recognize Rodriguez. Sergeant Lester told me that you hadn’t, either.”
Crawford shook his head, but left it at that, not quite ready to address the subject. He needed to win her trust first. Right now, she was backed against the driver’s door, her body language telegraphing that she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.
“Look,” he said, “I know I told you that we wouldn’t talk about last night.”
“And we won’t.”
“We—”
“If that’s what you brought me here to discuss, you’ve wasted this cloak-and-dagger setup.” She gestured toward the surroundings beyond the car windows.
“If we don’t clear the air about it, it’s always going to be there.”
“Not if we cancel it.”
He gave her a look. “Sorry, but unless you know a trick I don’t, it’s not something you can take back.”
“We rid our minds of it.”
“Deny it happened.”
“Not deny. Beyond deny. It. Never. Happened. Period. By an act of will, we—”
“Cancel it.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“So you agree?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
But he didn’t believe that was a workable plan, and obviously she didn’t, either. Under his stare, she lowered her head and massaged the space between her eyebrows with the pad of her middle finger.
“What about the whiskey drinker?” he asked.
“He’s not a factor.”
“He’s an ex?”
“Yes.”
“Husband?”
“Significant other.”
“How significant?”
“We were never officially engaged, but we had an understanding.”
“Of?”
“Marriage in the future.”
“So what happened?”
She raised her head, looking piqued. “What difference does it make to you?”
“It makes a difference because I don’t want a jealous ex coming after my ass with criminal intent.”
“He isn’t like that.”
“If he’s got a pair, he is. When it comes to a woman, all men are ‘like that.’”
“Not Dennis.”
“Dennis.” The name left a bad taste in his mouth. “What sets Dennis apart from the rest of us?”
“He’s not a caveman,” she said. “He’s reasonable. Refined.”
“Huh. In other words, right there on the borderline with wimpy.”
Her angry breathing was beginning to fog up the windows. “I’m done talking about this.”
“I’m not. In fact, it’s just now getting interesting.”
“Get out of my car, Mr. Hunt.”
“Is Dennis local?”
“Frisco,” she said tightly. “It’s a community outside—”
“Dallas. I know. Did distance break you up?”
She seemed disinclined to answer, but he waited her out and finally she said, “When I accepted the job with Judge Waters, Dennis and I were aware of the strain the distance might impose on our relationship.”
“Plain English, please. I’m not the law review board.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
He spread his hands apart, inviting her to continue.
“Dennis and I were committed to making it work.”
“Except it didn’t.”
“No, the separation began to widen, and in more ways than geography. We saw less and less of each other. It was a long drive to make just for a weekend.”
“Depends on the weekend.” Catching the innuendo, her eyes snapped to his, but before she could take exception, he pressed on. “Dennis couldn’t have relocated here when you did?”
“He has a senior position with a medical supply company. High-tech surgical equipment. I never would have suggested that he leave it.”
“You never considered passing on the chance of getting the governor’s appointment?”
“Absolutely not.”
Huh. An unequivocal no. She couldn’t have loved Dennis all that much. Which gave Crawford a misplaced feeling of satisfaction. As he’d said, when it came to a woman… Apparently he was of a baser bent than Dennis. “How long ago was the breakup?”
“A few months.”
“Do you keep in touch?”
“No.”
“Was the split hostile?”