12. Diem

“Ican’t say for certain yet, Ms. Willard.”

“It’s Faye, and I don’t understand why it’s so hard to prove.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her ample bosom. Her clothes were frumpy again today, joggers and a worn, unflattering T-shirt. “I know he was cheating. A wife can tell. Noah showed all the signs, and that Olivia bitch was at my house acting all too familiar. Stupid blonde bimbo. I don’t know what he saw in her. For that matter, I don’t know what she saw in him. It’s not like he was packing heat if you know what I mean. His Wee Willy Winky wasn’t anything to brag about.”

The worst part of my job was dealing with clients. It took effort to manage my temper and put together enough words to properly converse. But without clients, I had no cases. Without cases, I had no job. Without a job, I was fucked, and there wasn’t much in life I was good at outside of investigative work. Life would be far easier if I had a means of bridging the gap between them and me. It was always worse when clients like Faye hounded me for answers before I was ready to give them.

“If you’re so certain Noah was cheating, why am I trying to prove anything?” I mumbled into her exposé about her dearly departed husband and their sex life.

“Because I need to know for sure.”

I still didn’t understand what difference it made. The man was dead. But it wasn’t my job to ask those types of questions. If Faye wanted me to find proof, I needed to find proof—if it existed.

“You realize the difficulty of uncovering a cheating spouse when your spouse is dead, Ms. Willard.”

“It’s Faye.”

“I can’t exactly catch him in the act.”

“But she was at my house, and I know Noah snuck off with her more than once. I saw them embracing. I know you think I’m crazy, but I want answers. All I do is sit around and wonder where he was sticking his tool when my back was turned. You know he barely took me to bed in the last few months he was alive. He used to be a three-times-a-week man. I could set my calendar to his libido, and I was never wrong. Do you know why our sex life died? Because he had a side piece, and that piece was Olivia.”

Grinding my teeth to dust, I spun the fidget spinner below the desk and out of Faye’s line of sight. She’d shown up unexpectedly when I’d been ready to step out for food, and there didn’t seem to be any way of getting rid of her before she was satisfied she had a proper update.

“Olivia Lansky has been difficult to investigate.”

Faye sulked.

“Did you know that bitch had the gall to show up at his funeral? The audacity. Mind you, she didn’t come inside the church, but I saw her at the cemetery. She brought another bimbo with her. A brunette. Probably a friend. Lord knows she couldn’t bring her husband for support. Can you imagine? How would she explain that? ‘Oh, look, dear, that’s the man I was fucking behind your back. Isn’t it sad?’”

“A brunette?”

“Yeah. Not as pretty as Bimbo Barbie.”

“Did you know who she was?”

“They were too far away to get a proper look, but I didn’t recognize her.”

“Do you know a woman named Beth Rowell?”

“No. Why? Was Noah fucking her too?” Faye’s voice rose an octave with the question.

“She’s likely the brunette you saw. She’s a friend of Mrs. Lansky. How about Sean Rowell? Is that name familiar? He’s in real estate. Did you buy your house from him?”

Faye dismissed the question with a wave. “Have you talked to this Beth person? Maybe she knows what my husband was up to. Friends are never loyal, and women love to gossip.”

“I’m still following leads. It would help to know if your family has any outside connection with the Rowells.”

“Never heard of them. Talk to this woman. I’m telling you, if she’s friends with Barbie, she’ll know the truth. Bribe her. I’ll give her money for answers. Whatever it takes.”

“Ms. Willard, I’d be more apt to believe Noah was involved with Olivia’s friend than Olivia herself.”

Faye flinched, eyes widening. “Really?” She sat forward on the chair, making the plastic creak. “What makes you think that?”

“Some of the information I’ve gathered loosely suggests it. Loosely. Don’t quote me. Like I said, I’m still looking into things.”

“What information? What did you find? What do you know? How certain are you? I knew there was more than one.”

“I’m not certain, and I can’t share anything specific right now. If it proves fruitful, we’ll talk.”

“I have rights.”

“It’s not conclusive.” My voice was a borderline growl, and I had to talk myself down before I lost another client.

Faye huffed and shook her head. “Oh, it probably is. Noah had himself a whole brothel of whores. Pretty ones. Ugly ones. Guess he wasn’t choosy. Just didn’t want his wife. You find me proof, Mr. Krause.” She stabbed a finger on the desk. “I want proof. They destroyed my marriage, and I plan to destroy theirs. Bet their husbands would love to know what they’ve been up to.”

I grunted a nonresponse, wishing she’d end the interrogation and leave. Faye wasn’t the first feisty woman who wanted revenge on her cheating husband. She was, however, the first whose husband wasn’t around to suffer the consequences of that revenge. I would never understand women.

It was Friday night, nearing six. I wanted to be outside Beth’s house before she escaped for her secret nine o’clock rendezvous with the elusive bastard himself. Time was ticking, and Faye was on my last nerve.

Mostly, I didn’t want to be around the office because I knew…

A rap at the door was followed by a cheerful. “Knock, knock. It’s me, cuddle bear. Open up. I come bearing gifts.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Fuck me sideways.”

Faye turned to the door as I shouted, “It’s open.”

Tallus strutted in, arms loaded with a paper take-out bag and drink tray. I couldn’t see his face behind the mountain. “I got paid today, so I thought I’d treat us to—” He peered around the side of the bag and saw Faye. “Oh, hello. I didn’t know you had a client. So sorry. I’m interrupting.”

“It’s fine,” Faye said. “Who are you?”

Tallus smiled his breathtaking smile, set down the drink tray, and shuffled the paper bag, securing it in one arm before thrusting out a hand. “Tallus Domingo. I’m Diem’s partner.”

“You’re not my—” I growled under my breath, stopping the snappy reply before it came out.

Faye, oblivious to my objection, shook Tallus’s hand. “Are you helping to investigate my husband’s infidelity?”

“I certainly am.”

“You’re not,” I snapped.

“Ignore him. He gets ornery when he’s hungry.” Tallus winked in my direction. “You must be Faye. Your case is a top priority. In fact, that’s why I’m here right now. We have some serious investigative work to do this evening. We will uncover all his dirty secrets. Don’t you worry.”

Faye flipped her attention to me. “I didn’t know you had a partner.”

“I don’t.”

“He only calls me in for special cases,” Tallus explained. “Like I said, you are a top priority. As special as they come.”

Faye puffed up, eyes brightening. “Good. I need answers.”

“And you’ll get them.”

“He was cheating on me. I know it. He had a brothel of whores, according to Mr. Krause.”

“I never said—”

“And we’ll sort that bastard out,” Tallus interrupted.

“He was a bastard. All those years I gave him. For what? So some bimbo blonde and her brunette friend could claim him? I don’t think so.”

“The audacity. It’s not right.”

“It’s not.”

I must have made a noise because Tallus shushed me, telling Faye it was my stomach. “I should feed him.”

“Oh. Of course. You’ll call me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “I have a right to answers.”

I grunted, eyeing Tallus with a look drenched in contempt, ensuring he knew how I felt about his little act.

He chuckled, helping Faye to her feet and guiding her to the door. “Let me translate the grunting growl for you. Diem will call the minute he knows anything. Take care, Faye. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

For the first time since she arrived, Faye sniffled and looked grief-stricken. “It’s hard losing a husband.”

“I have no doubt.”

Faye left, and Tallus shut the door behind her before leaning on it and facing me, grinning with the perfect mix of sultry mischief. “Hey, Guns. You’re chipper as ever.”

I glared. “We aren’t partners.”

Ignoring the comment, he shoved away from the door. “I knew you wouldn’t invite me to this stakeout tonight, but not being part of it didn’t feel right. My brilliance got us this far, so here I am.” And the bastard struck a pose.

“I work alone.”

Tallus shook his head, coy and self-confident. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I willed my brain and body not to react. I would not be seduced.

“I brought food.” He motioned to the take-out bag he’d deposited beside the drink tray. “I spent my hard-earned money on you, and believe me, I don’t have a penny to spare, so this is a treat, and you should be thankful.”

“We aren’t partners. It’s my business. I formed it. Alone.”

“Come on, Guns. You knew I’d show up. Get over yourself.”

I changed tactics since I wasn’t getting anywhere. “And it’s not a stakeout. You watch too much TV.”

Tallus huffed. “Whatever you want to call it. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Are you going to keep growling and arguing, or can we eat? I’m starving.”

There was no point in fighting where Tallus was concerned. Once he set his mind to something, I’d learned it would take nothing short of a meteor wiping out humankind to stop him. When I quit arguing, he collected the take-out bag and drinks and took Faye’s chair.

I’d spent all week trying to figure out how to avoid Tallus’s company where Beth’s rendezvous with the elusive bastard was concerned. It meant potential hours of sitting in a car. Hours. All I needed was to have Tallus beside me. It was hard enough concentrating for long periods of surveillance without his loud personality as a distraction. I was hard-pressed to survive ten minutes in his presence. And it was getting worse.

But, as was becoming the norm, I submitted with barely a fight, like a pup rolling to his back and inviting attention. I didn’t like the hold Tallus had on me. Or rather, I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Dinner was southwest chicken bowls from a trendy restaurant I’d never been to. “It’s their Friday special,” Tallus explained. “One of my favorite places. It’s my payday treat to myself every week. Are you okay with spice? This bowl has a kick to it. I love jalapenos. I always order extra. I had them put the regular amount on yours, but if I know you like bite, I’ll ask for more next time.”

I stared across the desk without answering as Tallus smirked and stuffed a forkful into his mouth. He somehow made eating into an X-rated affair and wasn’t shy about it either. The way he wrapped his mouth around the fork tines and licked his lips was infuriatingly obscene. The noises climbing his throat hit me right in the balls. I would have opened a window if it wasn’t raining and way too fucking obvious.

Something told me Tallus knew exactly what he was doing. Yeah, a night with Tallus beside me in the Jeep would be hell.

“So that was Faye?” Tallus pointed his fork at the door.

I grunted, deciding to eat since it smelled good.

“What did she want?”

“Update.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Not much.”

“Does she know where we’re going tonight?”

“No.”

“How much did you share about the elusive bastard and Olivia and those emails?”

“Nothing.”

Tallus hummed and watched me eat. “Is the bowl good?”

“Sure.”

“Too spicy?”

“No.”

“Do you want extra jalapenos next time?”

I grunted.

“You’re a shitty conversationalist.”

I glanced up from my food and was met by a smirk.

“I know.”

“We’ll work on it.”

“We’re not partners.”

“Sure, babe. Eat your food.”

Tallus talked the entire time. I surreptitiously stole glances at the man, noting his flashy, teal dress shirt and contrasting purple tie with a wild floral design. If he was colorblind, how did he know how to pair outfits? Tallus was always fashionably dressed. His style was unique but well thought out. Vibrant. Energetic. Nothing about him appeared accidental. I wanted to ask but didn’t know how.

Twice, he caught me staring. His hazel eyes flashed from behind his dark-framed glasses, and I looked away, warmth growing from my belly and radiating up my spine. I had the sickening feeling Tallus could read my mind.

Unfazed, Tallus continued with a steady commentary about the dreary life of a records clerk and the random cases he’d been reading. “Oh, Kitty says hi, by the way. You should stop by sometime. She’d love to see you.”

I grunted. It had been a while since I’d seen Ms. Lavender.

Tallus scraped the edges of his bowl, gathering rice into a pile. “She mentioned she was friends with your grandmother.”

I glanced up. “Oh?”

“She said your grandmother has dementia.”

I grunted and nodded, returning to my food. I didn’t want to talk about Nana.

“They used to be part of a knitting group.”

I didn’t respond.

“Kitty was wondering how she was doing.”

I ate, stuffing my mouth too full to talk. How many other things had Ms. Lavender shared? The woman knew far too much about my life, and I squirmed at the prospect of Tallus discovering those truths.

Tallus must have sensed my reticence and changed the subject.

After a time, I glanced at my phone and rolled a hand, urging Tallus to shut up and eat faster. “I want to be at Beth’s early in case she takes off. This is the only connection we’ve discovered and possibly the only chance we have to gather information.”

“So you’re letting me tag along?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Tallus smirked and ate the rest of his meal in silence.

I instantly regretted my decision to tell him to stop talking. It was electrifying hearing him chatter, but without his voice filling the room, the walls were too close. My skin grew tight. The temperature rose.

I’d fucked up again.

“Don’t you have something better to do on a Friday night?” I asked as Tallus collected our empty containers and repacked them into the paper bag.

“Not really. I was invited to Gas, but there’s always tomorrow.”

“The boyfriend?”

“Who?”

“Did the boyfriend invite you?”

He huffed. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Guns. I prefer my men exchangeable. Variety is the key to happiness.”

I grunted, remembering the guy he’d been drunk schmoozing in the parking lot when I’d chased him down to help with the case.

Tallus, astute as always and somehow reading my mind, added, “Memphis isn’t my boyfriend. I was fucking with you last week.”

“Memphis?”

“The guy you saw me with. We’re just friends. Besides, this is way more fun than my typical Friday night adventures. Believe me. I can get drunk and dance any time I want. This is riveting.”

Tallus had a skewed perception of what surveillance entailed if he thought we were up for a night of riveting adventure. On a separate note, I filed away the information he shared about Memphis. Not a boyfriend. Just a friend. It didn’t mean they weren’t fuck buddies. Exchangeable? Variety? What did that mean? A night of drinking and dancing probably ended in a night of fucking. Why wouldn’t it? Christ, Tallus probably had guys lining up when he went out. Exchangeable? As in a new guy every night? Probably.

Not that I cared. I didn’t. Good for him. He probably didn’t have to weed through a stupid app and avoid daddy-seeking twinks when he wanted a fuck. All Tallus had to do was bat his gorgeous lashes at whoever he wanted, and they’d come running.

It was unlike me to get so invested in someone else’s sex life. Why the fuck did I care? The one and only opportunity I’d had with Tallus was one of my biggest regrets. I shouldn’t be pining for a second chance.

Since it was a drizzly Friday night, I grabbed my grandfather’s fedora and trench coat before we headed out. Tallus chuckled and muttered, “You’re one of a kind, D,” under his breath as we left.

We took the Jeep. The drive to Beth’s was quiet. It was the last day of May, and the sun wouldn’t set until Beth was due to arrive at her rendezvous. It meant we had to be extra careful not to draw attention to ourselves. Two men sitting in a Jeep watching a house could garner unwanted attention. All we needed was a nosy neighbor to decide they didn’t like the looks of us and call the cops.

I’d had it happen enough times to know I didn’t want a repeat. Most cops didn’t like PIs and vice versa.

The Rowells’ house was located on a quiet, tree-lined street. Cars were parked up and down both sides. It was a blessing in disguise. It meant the Jeep wouldn’t stand out, and hopefully, the tinted windows gave us enough cover no one would look closely enough to know two men were sitting inside.

I found an open spot three houses down and on the opposite side of the road, facing the Rowells’. A giant deciduous provided extra cover, its leafy canopy filtering the rain, so it wasn’t as heavy against the hood of the Jeep. With the weather, no one was out and about. Another point in our favor.

Two cars occupied the Rowells’ driveway. One belonged to Beth, the other to her husband, Sean. I’d done my research and knew Beth owned the red SUV. Sean sported a sleek BMW, flaunting his hard-earned money for the world to see.

“How many kids do they have?” Tallus asked, examining the two-story house in the distance.

“Two. Eight and four years old.”

“Did Faye and Noah have kids?”

“No.”

Tallus sat back with a sigh. “So we just wait?”

“Yep.”

“Do you do this a lot? Stakeouts?”

“It’s not a stakeout.”

He huffed. “Surveillance, whatever you want to call it. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Ever been caught?”

“Yes.”

“Think we’ll learn anything?”

I shrugged.

Silence bloomed between us. I felt every inch of separation. The air was rich with the scent of Tallus’s cologne and hair product. His natural essence was easy enough to pick out, too—not that I was trying. I was aware of every tiny move he made as he randomly adjusted himself in the seat, cleaned his glasses, or checked his phone.

“Why PI work?” He seemed unable to sit in silence. It was going to be a long night at this rate. “I know you left the police department. Kitty said it was a bad situation. Don’t worry. She didn’t get into details. But why private investigation?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer. Could you at least try to have a proper conversation? I know it’s hard. I know it goes against every one of your instincts, but please? For me? Otherwise, it will be a long night.”

I picked a nail and shrugged. “PI work called to me.”

“Do you like it?”

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like it.”

“I guess.”

I felt his eyes on me and stared straight ahead, skin alive and tingling as I focused on Beth’s house.

“What’s with the getup?”

“Huh?” I frowned and flashed him a sideways glance. “What getup?”

Tallus flicked the brim of my hat. “It’s old-fashioned.” He nodded at the coat. “Don’t get me wrong. It suits you in an odd way. I don’t see many guys wearing fedoras and trench coats anymore. If it was coming back in style, I’d know.”

I turned back to the house, muttering, “It was my grandfather’s.”

“Oh. Is he alive?”

“No.”

“Would this be your nana’s husband?”

“Yes.” I shifted uncomfortably. “He… Boone worked as an informant for the police department. It was a different job back in his day. A lot like PI work, except… less rule-bound. He did whatever they requested. Couldn’t get away with it today.”

“That’s cool as shit. So like a real-life Dick Tracy?”

I grunted. Boone was sacred to me. I’d loved the man like a father. I’d worshiped the ground he walked on. Talking about him was hard. I missed him so much that it hurt sometimes. Conversations about the past left a stone in my gut and made me think of Nana, how her mind was going, and how she thought I was him more often than not. How shattered she was every time she remembered Boone was dead.

Tallus didn’t speak again for a long time. When he did, he asked, “Is this a typical case?”

“What?”

“Cheating husbands?”

“Yeah.” Cheating spouses were top of the list when cases landed on my desk.

“What other sorts of things do you investigate?”

“Um…” I cleared my throat and squirmed. “I research information. Find stuff online most people can’t find. Track people down.”

“Like bail jumpers?”

“Sometimes. It’s not my main focus. I’ve been asked to verify information for companies, screen new employees, and investigate fraud. I do a lot of surveillance. I don’t know. It varies. I take whatever comes knocking. I can’t be picky.”

“Not lucrative in pay?”

“No.”

“I hear ya. My job pays shit. Ever investigate the infidelity of a dead man before?”

“Nope.”

“Ever thought of expanding your business?”

“No.”

“I could be an asset.”

“I work alone.”

“Is it because you’re afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

Heat climbed my neck. I kept my gaze on the house and didn’t answer. Did the guy ever stop talking? Did he have to shine a spotlight on every little thing? Couldn’t he ignore shit on occasion and realize I was uncomfortable?

“Hey, Guns. Look at me.”

I didn’t want to, so I remained facing forward.

“Here’s the thing—”

Sean and Beth emerged from the front door of the house, and I jolted upright, sputtering, “Shut up. There she is.”

Tallus followed my gaze. The couple stopped on the front stoop in the rain, clearly involved in a spat. Sean was in Beth’s face, finger raised, emitting hostility. He looked to be shouting, but we were too far down the road with the Jeep windows rolled. Every so often, he scanned the wet street as though afraid he might be seen or heard.

Beth stood her ground, shouting back when Sean gave her an opening.

“Oh, this is good,” Tallus muttered, rubbing his hands together. “Give the engine some juice so I can power down the window. Maybe we can figure out what they’re fighting about.”

I clicked the key to accessory mode, and Tallus lowered the glass a few inches. We still couldn’t determine the essence of the fight over the rainfall. Sean’s temper might be high, but his voice was washed out by the weather.

Beth turned to go, but she didn’t get two steps before Sean grabbed her arm, jerking her back in front of him so hard she stumbled and almost fell. With his other hand, he popped her in the side of the head. A solid, closefisted wallop that no doubt would have made a noise had we been standing nearby.

Her husband’s grip was strong enough I wouldn’t have been surprised if it left a mark. Beth winced and cowered. Sean’s face was in hers, spitting venom we couldn’t hear. His words were no doubt caustic and threatening. Beth’s body bowed to the left, suggesting she was doing all she could to alleviate the hurt caused by his grip on her arm. Sean wouldn’t let go and popped her on the side of the head again when she squirmed.

I saw the moment Beth submitted. I saw the pleading way she looked at her husband.

The fear.

I saw red.

My blood boiled, and I felt on my own skin the way Sean’s fingers dug into her. I felt the ache of a coming bruise echo in my muscles. I knew those pops to the side of the head personally and how they rattled your teeth and made your ears ring. I felt Sean’s spittle raining on my face as he spoke. Beth’s bone-deep fear radiated out of her and into me.

Her humiliation.

Her contempt.

Her submission.

A roar of anger flooded my brain and stole my ability to think. I was in two places at once. I was watching Beth be victimized by her husband, and I was stuck in my father’s grasp as he shook me, spat in my face, and made me submit under the force of his hand. I was a teenager again, waiting for the next blow, wondering how bad it would be and if he would please just kill me this time and get it over with.

Tallus was speaking, but his voice was a muffled drone in the background. It wasn’t until he touched my thigh that I was catapulted to the present. My father’s biting grip let go, and in response, my arm swung of its own accord, fending off the attack that wasn’t there.

Time and space were disoriented, warped, out of sync, but somehow, I caught myself before my fist connected with Tallus’s face.

It was a near thing, and I sucked in a breath, shaken by what had almost happened.

Tallus didn’t move or flinch, yet my hand hovered an inch from his mouth. I was hot and cold at the same time. Fire and ice. Poison ran through my veins. I shook with fear and anticipation. I boiled with rage.

Tallus’s wide hazel eyes stared into mine without blinking. They radiated a calmness that was so out of place with the situation I wasn’t sure how to process it and thought I was seeing things.

My heart jackrabbited. A whomping sounded in my ears as blood pumped too fast through my body. I wanted to apologize for almost decking him. I wanted to scream in his face to never fucking touch me unexpectedly when I was caught in a vise like that, but how was he supposed to know where my head was at? How was he supposed to understand the power of Leroy Krause?

I wanted to go back in time to before I hunted Tallus down to help with the case. I was a mess. I would always be a mess, and he didn’t deserve to be part of it.

I lowered my fist to my lap, still trembling, still with labored breathing.

“Should we step in?” Tallus’s voice was a quiet contrast to the roar inside my head.

Step in?

It took a second for me to process the question. I peered back at the arguing couple, but Beth had escaped her abuser, and Sean was alone on the front stoop, still shouting as Beth backed out of the driveway and drove away.

Once she was gone, Sean kicked a ceramic flowerpot, sending it crashing over the edge of the stoop. “Bitch,” he yelled loud enough the rain didn’t cover it. I recognized in Sean the essence of a violent man. I knew the signs. I knew the results. He peered along the street in both directions, knowing others might have seen him in the act. The abuser never wanted to be caught. He didn’t notice us in the Jeep.

Sean’s aggression explained a lot. If Beth had been stepping out with Noah, Sean could be why. Also, if Noah had felt threatened, Sean could be the reason why.

Unhappy, abusive marriage. A woman seeks comfort in the arms of another man. Man finds out and goes ballistic. I’d seen this story play out many times before. It was…

“D?” Again, Tallus’s voice penetrated my noisy thoughts. At least he knew better than to touch me that time. “We’re gonna lose her.”

“What?”

“Beth. She drove away. We need to follow, remember? It’s why we’re here.”

“Oh. Shit.” I fumbled with a shaky hand to start the engine, struggling to get my head on straight.

Sean had gone back inside the house, and part of me wanted to knock on the door and give him a taste of his own medicine.

I put the Jeep in gear but didn’t know which way to go. I hadn’t seen anything beyond the look in Sean’s eyes and the violent way he’d grabbed Beth’s arm and popped her on the side of the head.

“That way.” Tallus pointed. “To the stop sign and take a left. I got her license plate number.”

I followed Beth, gripping the steering wheel with both hands as I worked to calm down. We caught up with her a few blocks from the house. It was a good thing her neighborhood was quiet and filled with stop signs. It slowed her progress.

The sun was almost down, and thick cloud cover brought the night before it was scheduled to arrive. We drove for twenty minutes before Beth pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 8. I turned into a strip mall next door, angling the Jeep so we could watch where she went.

A lone parking lot light cast a washed-out yellow glow across the puddled ground. Beth parked and ran into the office, emerging a minute later and glancing around. Eight cars occupied the motel lot, but all of them seemed empty. Beth veered toward one of the rooms, knocked, and was greeted by the shadowy form of a man. I couldn’t make out his features. He was taller than her, had a wide midsection, and might have been bald. It was impossible to be sure in the dark.

Beth collapsed in the man’s arms, and he hugged her for a long time. Her shoulders bounced, which told me she might be crying. It stirred more anger, and I didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for Sean if Beth truly was fucking around. The indistinct man encouraged Beth inside and closed the door, effectively shutting us out.

“Fuck. They couldn’t have met at a restaurant?” Tallus spoke my thoughts out loud.

I moved the Jeep to the Motel 8 parking lot, securing a spot at an angle to avoid being seen from the office but with a clear view of the long line of exterior entrances to the rented rooms.

“It’s interesting, though,” Tallus said, breaking the ice after we’d been there a few minutes.

“What?”

“Sleazy motel. Secret meeting. Is she fucking this guy too? He called it the old haunt. It was hard to tell, but he seemed a lot older.”

I grunted a nonresponse.

I couldn’t think about Beth. I was still processing my actions from earlier. My flying fist. The near connection. Tallus seemed to have let it go, but I couldn’t. I felt ten kinds of ugly for almost hitting him. My gut soured and churned until the southwest chicken bowl threatened to revisit. It took effort to keep it down.

Tallus, astute as always, shifted to face me. “D, it’s fine.” His voice was soft and soothing, and I didn’t deserve it.

I stared at the motel room door, wishing I had a smoke or the stupid fidget toy because I needed something to do with my hands. I was constantly leaving the ridiculous contraption behind and regretting it. I should buy a second one to leave in the Jeep. That was what I would do. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would…

“I shouldn’t have touched you like that,” Tallus said. “It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t.” I gritted my teeth. It was my fault. My ugly genes were responsible. No amount of therapy had helped. This proved it. I was my father to the core. I would always be my father. Angry and reactive. Prone to violence. They should lock me up and throw away the key before I hurt someone.

Tallus shifted and sighed. We didn’t talk for a long time. The rain fell, washing out the night and my mood.

“Do you think Sean suspects Beth is cheating?” Tallus asked later on.

“Maybe.”

“Do you think Noah felt threatened by Sean?”

“Possibly.”

“He’s clearly aggressive. If he discovered something untoward about his wife, he could have approached Noah. Maybe Sean threatened to kill him. Hence the artillery Faye discovered.”

I grunted. It was a good theory. I’d grown an instant dislike for Beth’s husband.

“Maybe Olivia knows her friend’s husband is abusive, and that’s why she has a bodyguard now. Maybe Sean made threats against her too. Maybe Olivia facilitated the cheating.”

I grunted again.

Tallus sighed. “It’s going to be a long night if you don’t open your mouth and talk every once in a while. We should break this down together. I need your thoughts. You’re the professional. How is this guy involved?” Tallus gestured to the motel room.

It took a second to find my voice. “I don’t know.”

“We should take down license plate numbers for the cars in the lot. One of them must belong to him.”

“We’ll wait and follow him when he leaves. Figure out who he is and where he lives. Maybe then we can connect him to Noah.”

“Okay.”

Hours passed.

The rain picked up around eleven, pinging noisily against the roof and streaming down the windshield. We didn’t speak. I expected Tallus to get bored or irritated with my incessant silence, but he didn’t seem to. He played around on his phone, messaging people and checking social media. He hummed songs to himself and cleaned his glasses a few times, but mostly, he sat beside me and watched the door to the room where Beth had disappeared.

I calmed down over time. The intensity of the incident at Beth’s faded. I counseled myself with my doctor’s words, wishing I could explain the root of it all to Tallus but not knowing how without opening the door to my past.

“I’m not a nice man,” I blurted sometime after midnight when the silence was so thick I was chewing on it.

“What do you mean?”

“I have problems.”

Tallus huffed. “Sweetheart, we all have problems. Have you met my family? Believe me, you aren’t special.”

I growled under my breath. He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that I was a good-for-nothing asshole. Useless in society. Undeserving of patience or friendship. Undeserving of him.

“I don’t believe you would ever hurt me, Diem, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Then you don’t know me very well.”