Widowmaker (Mike Bowditch #7)

“I had Adam in my third-grade class,” she said. “I always knew he was going to end up in jail. That kid is a bad seed.”


I looked down at my hands.

“Lauren, that’s enough,” said her husband.

“She’s always felt superior to me because she used to date you,” she said. “Like I was pathetic for marrying one of her rejects.”

Pulsifer stood up from his chair. The apple rolled hard off the table and both sleeping dogs sprang to their feet. “I said that’s enough!”

They glared at each other for a long time—long enough for me to become aware of my heart beating faster—and then she went down on one knee and retrieved the fallen apple with her thumb. She examined the bruised spot, then she tossed the damaged fruit into the trash can.

“Mommy?” The voice was faint, coming from the top of the nearest stairs.

“Wonderful,” Lauren said to her husband. “I should make you put her back to bed.”

“Fine.”

“No, you stay here with your warden friend.”

After she’d left the kitchen, Pulsifer tilted back in his chair, holding on to the table with both hands to keep from toppling over. “I told you she was touchy.”

“So you and Amber, huh?”

“You ever wish you had amnesia?”

“I used to.”

The familiar foxlike smile of his made a reappearance. “I bet you did. You kept me pretty busy when you were a rookie. Every time you got called up on some new charge, I’d think, This is it. Bowditch has finally gone too far. He’s done this time. And yet somehow you kept managing to dodge the bullets.”

“I didn’t dodge that knife,” I said.

“Something saved you,” he said. “Those vests aren’t stabproof.”

“So I have recently learned. I must have turned in time or something. The whole thing was a freak occurrence.” I took a sip from the mug. “This cider is good.”

“It’s my own secret brew. You want a mix of sweet, bitter, and sharp apples for good cider.” He seemed to cock an ear to the stairs. “Let me see that bottle of Beam.”

I felt reluctant to hand it to him. Lauren definitely would not have approved.

Pulsifer unscrewed the top and splashed some bourbon in both of our mugs. “Here’s to Amber.”

The bourbon gave the cider a kick and an added sweetness. But I found that I had no real interest in getting drunk. And I was thinking I might have done something wrong in tempting Pulsifer.

“I appreciate your putting me up for the night,” I said.

“I didn’t want your ghost haunting me if you decided to sleep in your Scout.”

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question? What made you sign up to be the union rep? It just seems like a shitload of aggravation.”

“You want the truth?” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “I thought it would put me in good with everybody. Instead, the reverse happened. The thing about being the union rep is that you end up learning people’s worst secrets. Drinking problems, domestic issues, gambling, drugs—you name it. Some guys are grateful to me for helping them out of a jam, but others resent me because of what I know about their personal failings.”

“I’m grateful. You saved my ass more than once.”

“The people you should be grateful to are Frost and Malcomb. How is Kathy doing anyway? I was sad to hear she’d retired. That woman was the original badass bitch.”

“I think she’s feeling a little lost,” I said. “She hasn’t figured out what comes next.”

“Join the club.”

“You thinking of retiring, Pulsifer? I thought you were serving a life sentence.”

“Lauren wants me out. She’s tired of my being gone all the time, leaving her with the kids and the animals. And the union stuff is burning me out. I’m tired of hearing everyone’s sins. I never signed up to be the father confessor for the Warden Service. All right. You’ve stalled long enough. Why don’t you tell me what happened today.”

He poured himself a fresh cup of cider and added a bigger splash of bourbon. When he offered the same to me, I shook him off.

“You sure you want to hear all the gory details?” I said.

“No, but tell me anyway.”

It took me half an hour to tell the story. Lauren didn’t return to the kitchen, but sometimes I thought I heard a creaking at the top of the stairs, as if she might be standing at the banister listening.

I left out only one important detail, and that was about Adam’s being my half brother. Pulsifer was an experienced investigator, and I could tell that he suspected I was deliberately concealing something. Hell, I would have been suspicious, listening to myself. How had Amber Langstrom managed to convince me to assist her in finding her fugitive son? After I had worked so hard to rehabilitate my career, why would I risk it for a total stranger? Something didn’t add up. I could see it in his eyes.

“Amber certainly can be persuasive,” he said.

The dogs were snoring at my feet. “I would call her persistent instead of persuasive.”

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