The Ex. BEVERLY BARTON
in a husky, Southern drawl that hinted she was a heavy smoker.
Turning to her, he smiled as he noted the faint lines that edged her hazel eyes. At thirty-seven, she was still a looker, but give her a few more years and a couple of decades of smoking and sun worship would catch up with her. By the time she was forty-five, she’d need a face-lift. Of course, what she looked liked a few years down the road was no concern of his. Mary Lee was a temporary fixture in his life, a brief liaison that had to end before Jim Norton found out his partner was bonking his ex-wife.
“Am I as good as your ex?” he asked and could have kicked his own ass for letting his insecurity show.
Usually Chad was confident. Some said overconfident. And about most things he was. After all, why shouldn’t he be? He was highly intelligent, good-looking, the ladies loved him and he was moving up fast in the department. But ever since he’d been paired with Jim Norton, he’d had a few moments of self-doubt. Without consciously doing anything to cause the effect, Jim intimidated the hell out of other guys. Even Chad. And why that was, he didn’t know for sure. After all, Norton was nothing more than an ex-jock who’d nearly ruined his life and his career before Chad had graduated from college.
Mary Lee curled herself around Chad like a purring kitten and laughed as she ran her fingernails up and down his chest. “Comparing you to Jim is like comparing apples to oranges, sugar.”
He grabbed her by the nape of her neck, trapping a few strands of her short black hair between his fingers. “Are you screwing him, too? Everybody knows that he’s still got a thing for you.”
“So I’ve been told, but you can’t prove it by me.” She stared right at Chad. “I’ve made the offer more than once since our divorce, but he hasn’t accepted.”
“He must be nuts to turn you down.”
“Jim’s unforgiving,” she said. “I’m warning you, if you ever do anything to get on his shit list, you’ll be on it for life. He doesn’t forgive and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”
“So, what’d you do that was so unforgivable?”
Mary Lee pulled away from him, reached over on the nightstand and picked up a pack of cigarettes. He watched her as she lit the cigarette and took a couple of draws off it. After blowing out a puff of smoke, she grinned at him. “I got tired of being ignored, of him working all the time. I looked elsewhere.”
“And Jim found out.”
“Jim caught us in the act. He came home unexpectedly and found our son’s T-ball coach scoring a home run with me.”
“What’d he do? Beat the hell out of the T-ball coach?”
“You’d think that’s what a rough and rugged guy like Jim would do, wouldn’t you?” She shook her head, then puffed on the cigarette. “He just stood there in the doorway for a couple of minutes. Didn’t say a word. Then he turned around and walked away, right out of the house, and got back into his car and drove off.”
“I’d never peg Jim for—”
She put her index finger over his lips to silence him. “You don’t know the man at all, do you? He left so he wouldn’t kill us. He wanted me dead just as much as the guy I’d been fucking. And I figure there was about a minute there when our lives hung by a thread. But Jim has incredible self-control. That’s why he could walk away.”
“Hmm…”
“Surely you’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? Jim Norton believes in the old adage about revenge being a dish best served cold.”
A shiver zinged up Chad’s spine. Yeah, he’d heard the rumors. And if he believed them, like others in the department did, then he knew what Norton was capable of doing. He sensed that Mary Lee admired her ex-husband, maybe still even cared about him. And he also sensed that if she were totally honest about which man was the best—at sex or anything else—she’d choose Lieutenant James Norton over him or any other guy.
Needing to erase such thoughts from his mind and bring back the casual mood, Chad jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, keeping his hand over the sagging condom clinging to his penis. He paused in the doorway and glanced back at his partner’s ex-wife. “I’ve got to shower and shave, then get downtown and meet Jim. We’re questioning a murder suspect this morning and I don’t want to be late.”
“Go ahead.” She waved him off as she got out of bed. “Want me to put on a pot of coffee?”
Standing there in his bedroom, naked, tousled and sated, Mary Lee Norton got a rise out of him. A partial rise anyway. If he had time, he’d toss her back into bed and— Another time, he told himself. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have Mary Lee anytime he wanted her. The lady was definitely hot-to-trot.
“I’ll grab a cup at headquarters,” he told her as he removed the used condom and dumped it in the wastebasket. “But feel free to fix yourself a pot and hang around as long as you’d like.”
She didn’t respond, so he had no idea what she’d do. By the time he had showered, shaved and dressed, he found the house empty. Mary Lee had left a note attached to the refrigerator with a magnet.
You’re as good as he is, just different.
She’d scrawled her initials beneath the succinct note.
Chad grinned. He’d be seeing the lady again. Soon. And he’d make damn sure and certain her ex-husband didn’t find out.
Quinn nibbled on the high protein bar Kendall had provided along with a cup of coffee. The coffee was good— black and strong, the way he liked it. The protein bar tasted like cardboard coated with cheap chocolate. He preferred his breakfast protein in the form of steak and eggs. At home and when out of town on a case, his routine seldom varied. He was accustomed to having his needs met by a small contingent of well-paid employees, who traveled with him. After the McBryar acquittal yesterday, he’d sent his entourage back to Houston, expecting full well to be on a plane back home no later than Monday morning. Those plans had been made when he’d thought he would be spending the weekend with Lulu.
“I’ve got some low-fat wheat bread,” Kendall said. “I could fix you some toast.”
He glanced at Kendall, who sat on the bar stool next to him at the kitchen counter. How was it possible that she looked so awake and refreshed at seven-twenty in the morning, when it had been nearly three when they’d finally gone to bed. Her tan suit fit her to perfection and matched her heels and the clutch purse lying at the end of the counter alongside her burgundy leather briefcase. Everything about her was perfect, from her stylish short hair to her subtle makeup.
“Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.” He laid the bland protein bar atop his napkin and lifted the coffee cup to his lips.
“Did you get any sleep?” Kendall asked.
“Some,” he lied. He hadn’t slept at all. Only dozed a couple of times.
“Do I need to remind you to think like a lawyer this morning when you’re questioned and not like a suspect in a murder case?”
“Be calm, in control and logical,” he replied. “Don’t get emotional. And remember when to let my lawyer talk for me.”
“Good boy.”
“Honey, I’ve never been a good boy in my entire life.” Quinn Cortez had been a lot of things, to a lot of people, but being a good boy wasn’t one of them. As far as he was concerned, goodness was overrated. He preferred being rich, being powerful and being a winner. Maybe he’d sacrificed some important things along the way on his road to success, but he had to admit that if he had it to do all over again, he wouldn’t change a thing.
Not unless he could go all the way back to the beginning when Rico Cortez had married Sheila Quinn because he’d gotten her pregnant, then conveniently disappeared a few month’s after his son’s birth.
Kendall laughed.