CHAPTER SIX

"What do you think?" asked Jean.

"I think she's right. The husband probably didn't set up the whole camera thing, but I'm going to bet that he knew where the cameras were placed. If his buddies were looking at that site, it probably wasn't the first time."

"Maybe we pay a little visit to Craig," said Jean. Although younger than Miller, Jean was taller, wider, and solid like a block of granite.

"Can you control your temper?"

"My temper? Don't you think you should be asking yourself that question? I'm not the brother with the frowny face and uncontrollable temper." He stared at Jean, his brows furrowed, his face already changing colors. "See, that's the face."

"Shut up and drive."

When they arrived at the Garden District home of Craig Graylon, they were surprised to see empty beer bottles and paper cups strewn around the yard. It looked like a frat house party had taken place.

"I bet the neighbors love that," said Miller.

"This is an area that's pretty tame," said Jean. "Is this guy going through a mid-life crisis?"

"He might be suffering from more than that when I'm done talking to him." Miller knocked on the door, and he could hear voices laughing inside. He knocked more forcefully, and the voices stopped. When the door opened, a man they assumed was Craig stood with a woman in a bikini beneath his arm.

"Can I help you? If you're selling shit, we don't want it. We're headed to our lake home."

"Must be nice when you kicked your innocent wife out of her home," said Jean. Craig's face sobered, the woman beside him shrinking somewhat.

"Who are you? She wasn't innocent," he scoffed, trying to make himself appear bigger. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't working. He had the midlife life preserver around his middle, and it wasn't working for him at all.

"She was innocent, but you aren't. You knew that the cameras were in Lavelle's because you'd watched film on that site before, didn't you?" He wisely said nothing; then, the woman skittered away. "Don't go, Cara. We have some questions for you as well."

She stopped in her tracks, turning to stare at Craig.

"I want nothing to do with this. Listen, we're just two people who were unhappy in our marriages and now are happy together. There's no crime in that."

"Yeah, right," frowned Miller. "What gave you the right to destroy another person? Did you set her up at Lavelle's?"

"She had nothing to do with it. So what if my buddies and I looked at that site? We look at a lot of sites. All men do."

"We don't," they said in unison.

"Our wives are more than enough to keep our attention. I don't need to be some creepy fucking peeping Tom. And something for you to think about, Cara. If he's looking at those sites while he's married to his ex-wife, he'll be looking at them when he's married to you. See, they're addictive. Men can't help themselves. It makes them feel good, and they don't give a shit about how the women feel. They're just peeping Toms."

"It's not peeping!" he yelled.

"It is, and the law would see it that way. How did you get her to go to Lavelle's?" Craig was quiet for a moment, then Miller turned his head left and right, the big cracking noise at his neck making the other man swallow back his fear.

"She shopped at the same places all the time. I knew she'd hit one of them. All I wanted was something that would make it easy for me to divorce her."

"Easy? Well, you've fucked that plan," said Miller. "See, my wife is one of the best attorneys in the state. Hell, in the country. In fact, we have a whole legal team that's going to bury the two of you. Whatever she is owed, she will get, and you will be fucking done. I'm going to make sure no one ever buys another home from you again. Let's see if sweet little Cara likes a broke Craig."

"Wait!" he yelled as they started back down the steps. "Wait! One of my buddies was an investor in the site. Maybe he can help you."

"Funny that you suddenly remembered that. You'd better hope that he can. And you'd better hope that he's there when I arrive. If you warn him I'm coming, if you call him, I'll know." Jean started to walk away, then turned back, staring at the woman.

"By the way, that bathing suit looks like shit on you. Cover up and act your fucking age." He hated himself for doing it but felt like that was one for Sor. As they sped off in the car, Miller looked at his brother.

"Temper got to you?" he smirked.

"No. Their self-righteous, entitled behavior got to me. What's really sad is that they'll be sick of one another within a few months. Or worse, they'll do to one another what they did to their exes. Makes me glad that I'm married."

"Me too, brother. Me too."