Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

Chase flinched. “A good marriage is a paradise, and I would never cheat on Lacy.”

  “But you want to, right?” Jason knew he should probably drop it, but he couldn’t. “You’re going to tell me you don’t look at other women and think you want some?”

  “Hell, yeah, I look, and if she’s really hot I might even want! I mean, a good piece of ass is great. But what I have with Lacy is…a good piece of ass with a hell of a lot more.” From the look on Chase’s face, Jason knew his friend was about to go into one of his long speeches. Chase was good at long speeches. “As for why there are so many divorces…Two reasons. The couple was wrong for each other to start with, or they forget. And it’s the ‘forgetting’ divorces that are sad.”

  Chase ran his hand over the wheel. “Remember Detective Watson when he was going through his divorce? He got caught screwing the next door neighbor. He forgot.”

  Jason dropped his file in his lap. “Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly did Watson forget?”

  Chase held up his right arm. “See this? It’s just a freaking arm attached to my body. How often do you look down at your arm and think, ‘I’m a lucky bastard to have a right arm’? You don’t, do you? You take it for granted. It’s there. It works.”

  Jason stared at him. “And what you said is supposed to make sense?”

  Chase laughed. “That’s what a wife is. She’s your right arm. Only, some married people forget what their right arm does. It’s part of you, it makes you happy. People like Watson, they do something stupid and they lose their right arms. Then they go through the rest of their lives crippled.” He ran his left hand over his right elbow like a lover. “I’ll never forget how important this arm is.”

  And as crazy as it sounded, Jason understood. Or at least he thought he did.

  “So, because you lost your first wife you appreciate Lacy, is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. I lost my parents. That’s why I appreciated Sarah. But I lost her, too, and I wanted to die. But by some miracle, I found another right arm, and now I know what it’s like to do without it. I love Lacy. I love every freaking thing about her. I’m not going to do anything that would risk me losing her.”

  Jason rolled down the car window and stared out. He’d never had a wife. Hell, he’d never had anyone that amounted to much of a parent, either. Except Maggie, and she hadn’t come into his life until…later. And with her own marital disaster, she hadn’t exactly been a good example when relationships came into play. Maybe that’s why the whole marriage thing didn’t appeal. Frankly, he didn’t even know why he’d let Chase go on like he had. Jason Dodd was a one-day-at-a-time kind of guy. He didn’t worry about the future. He just didn’t.

  He opened up his file again. That was what he needed to be thinking about, not—

  “So what do you really have?” Chase asked.

  “I said I liked her! Fuck! Can’t you let it go?”

  “Chill.” His friend held up his hands. “I’m talking about the case. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Jason took a few breaths before he answered. “It’s this.” He shook the file. “The answer is in here somewhere. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  Pushing everything else from his mind, Jason went over the entire situation with Chase, focusing his frustration onto the conundrum.

  “So you think it’s the Benny Fritz guy,” Chase said.

  “Yeah, I’m leaning that way. I went by to see him twice yesterday to ask about where he was when Sue got the note at the park but never caught him at home. When I finally got him on his cell, he gave me the name of someone who’d vouch that he was at some coffee shop, but now I can’t seem to reach them.” Jason ran a hand over his face. “I dropped the note I got at the park and the card from the flowers at the lab for handwriting analysis, but with their backlog, who knows how soon they’ll have that back to me.”

  Chase nodded. “Did anything come back on the bullet they pulled from Sue’s wall?”

  “Not yet. Hoke’s Bluff is running those tests. I’m dealing with a whole bureaucratic mess.”

  “Have you spoken with Sarge? Maybe he could get Hoke’s Bluff to let go and—”

  “I tried. And was told to be careful not to step on too many toes. He said he’d make some calls but that I ‘d probably have to let things go through their natural channels.”

  “Fuck natural channels,” Chase said.

  “My thoughts exactly.” Jason sighed. “I did find out that Fritz isn’t listed as owning a gun. Not that he couldn’t have gotten one off the street.”

  Chase tapped his hands on the steering wheel again. “You don’t think the foot doctor’s wife is playing you? Maybe she hired someone. Or the second nurse—”

  “I don’t think so, but maybe. But fuck, I’m tired of maybes.”

  Chase leaned back in his seat. “How about the agent? You’re backing off on her, too?”

  Jason gave another sigh of frustration. “She couldn’t be doing it herself. She was in New Jersey when most things went down. And it’s more than a PR stunt now. There hasn’t been any useful publicity since the first incident.” He bent the edge of the file and then flipped it back up. “There’s still the cover artist, but now that we know the jerk broke into her computer files, it doesn’t have to be someone who’s read her manuscript. Frankly I think I’m wasting my time chasing the out-of-town leads.”

  “Sue’s ex?” Chase asked. “You checked him out?”

  Jason got a flashback of being kissed. Oh yeah, he’d checked the guy out. Unintentionally. “Sue’s pretty adamant about not dragging him into this.”

  “You know women never suspect their ex-husbands. If I remember right, Sue said he was some computer dweeb. He would have the know-how to break into her computer.”

  “I know,” Jason agreed. “I’m not completely ruling him out.”

  “Have they found the stolen Saturn that followed you yet?”

  Jason shook his head. “I called this afternoon, and so far it’s no-go. I even spoke to the guy who took the report on the Saturn to see if I could get information. I got shit instead. He couldn’t put his hands on the files. Can you believe that?”

  A car passed, and both Chase and Jason got quiet.

  “Anyway,” Jason continued after a moment, “he was supposed to call me back and didn’t. I hate not being on the inside of this case.”

  “I know,” Chase said.

  Jason glanced back at the file. “The answer’s here. I’m just not seeing it. I feel as if I’m too close to it.”

  Chase chuckled. “Well, sleeping with the victim is pretty damn close.”

  “Oh, right. Stupid me. You slept with Lacy while you were on the freaking run from the whole police department. You are not one to point fingers,” Jason snapped.

  “It was a joke,” Chase said. “Damn, but you’ve got a chip on your shoulder.”

  Jason closed his eyes. “Sorry. I want this guy caught.”

  “Yeah.” Silence filled the car.

  “You know,” Chase remarked, “I remember a homicide detective who said when he was stumped, he read the file backward.” He held up his hand. “I know it sounds crazy but he said he looked at each word. Repetitions, words with similar meanings. Sometimes the truth jumped out at him.”

  Jason scanned the file again, backward this time. He read his list of suspects: the agent, the cover artist, the ex-husband…He moved to the background on Fritz; then, frowning, he looked at the information about the Saturn and the notes he’d taken down that night. Car lent to a friend, a down-on-his-luck artist. Jason flipped back to his original list of suspects.

  “Shit,” Jason said. “You’re right. I might have found something.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “You found something? What?” Chase asked.

  “The word ‘artist.’ It’s here twice. The guy who supposedly borrowed the Saturn. The owner’s wife said he was a down-on-his-luck artist. Then Sue mentioned she didn’t like the guy who did her cover art,
a Michael Braxton.” Jason paused to let his mind wrap around the idea. “The man put Sue on the cover. The publisher said it was a coincidence, but I think the guy is obsessed with her. I finally got contact info on the man but I haven’t had any luck contacting him. Still, I didn’t look at him seriously because he’s in New York. But…”

  A new realization hit and burned. “Fuck! The editor said he’d contracted out, which means he might not even live in New York. Why didn’t I put this together earlier?”

  “Because I wasn’t here to help you.” Chase smiled. “Hey, I’m good.”

  Jason jumped out of the car. Then he stuck his head back through the window. “Can you take Sue home with you? I’m going to go over and interview the owners of the Saturn.”

  Chase frowned. “It’s sex and food night, and my wife’s probably going to win the Most Horny award!”

  “I just need—”

  “Go,” Chase muttered. “But you owe me, damn it.”

  Sue slipped her peach-colored sandals off her feet and let them fall under Kathy’s table. Her toes were feeling pinched again. Toes and heart, she thought. Her heart hadn’t stopped feeling pinched since she and Jason made love.

  “So, what do you think?” Kathy looked at her.

  It took Sue a second to remember what they’d been talking about. “Strawberries, yes. Maybe whipped cream. But syrup? Think of the sheets!” Sue sipped her liquid courage named Jack Daniels and let it burn down her throat. Her gaze slipped back to Lacy, who studied her with a give-it-up stare. Loyal Lacy could give pretty mean give-it-up stares, too.

  “Did Kathy tell you about Jason’s kittens?” Sue asked. “There’s one calico and…” As long as she talked, she didn’t have to think. Thinking could be detrimental to her mental health.

  Lacy and Kathy turned to each other. Sue quit talking.

  Her heart pinched again, so she recommenced chattering. “Do either of you want a kitten? I’m only giving them to people I know. Oh, and did you guys read the article on feng shui in today’s paper? Remember that lady we met at one of your parties, Lacy? Didn’t she do feng shui?”

  “You mean, one of Jason Dodd’s play-toys?” Lacy’s eyebrow arched.

  Shit! The feng shui chick had been one of Jason’s long line of women? Sue held up her glass and attempted a diversion. “To friendship!”

  They all downed their glasses with a big gulp.

  As Sue waited for the burning in her throat to pass, she wondered if someone, somewhere, would someday say, “Did you hear about that mystery author?” Someone else would say, “Yeah, wasn’t she one of Jason’s Dodd’s bang toys?” Sue felt her throat grow tight.

  “Yup, I think Ms. Feng Shui was Jason’s girlfriend,” Kathy agreed.

  A change of subject was needed. Fast. “Wasn’t it pretty weather today?” Sue had never been good at fast subject changes.

  Instead of answering her question, Lacy looked at Kathy and posed another. “So, what is your analysis? Is it as bad as we think?”

  “Analysis of what?” Sue asked.

  They ignored Sue’s question. Then Kathy gave Sue an up and down glance. “I told you, she’s been kissing toad butt.” Kathy puckered her lips and made smacking sounds.

  “I haven’t kissed a toad’s butt!” Sue jiggled her glass and watched the whiskey do laps.

  It was tough. She hadn’t spilled her guts yet. Normally she was the first to spill, for she told Kathy and Lacy everything. Well, she hadn’t told them about her ex and his lesbian trapped inside; that had been her personal secret. Until she’d told Jason. But now the whole being in love with Jason thing just felt…too scary to share. Even scarier than the truth about her divorce. Because if she talked about Jason, the rose-colored glasses she’d managed to put on after they’d made love would fall off. She didn’t want to lose them because then she’d see again how badly she’d screwed up. And how bad was that?

  Bad. She still loved Jason Dodd. Madly. Completely.

  The glasses slipped. She was in love with a man who was so afraid of commitment that he hadn’t named or checked the gender of his cat. And don’t forget, he thinks women go stale, an internal voice whispered. Sue wasn’t sure if it was her head or heart. But it wasn’t her hormones. No, that little voice hadn’t spoken since last night. It was probably off somewhere smoking cigarettes after the six orgasms.

  Six.

  Six wonderful, beautiful orgasms.

  Four of which had required condoms.

  Which meant she still had thirty-two of his climaxes left before she turned the lights out on this little shindig.

  Or before she learned she was wrong. And by wrong, she meant that she would learn she wasn’t just another of Jason’s flavors of the week, or month, or however long it took before a girl got moldy.

  And she was totally serious about the condom schedule.

  Jason didn’t know it, but when the condoms were gone, if she wasn’t sure about what was really happening between them, well, he’d be history. She had to have some rules, a game plan, a method to her madness. This was it. If a pack of thirty-six condoms didn’t take a relationship forward, nothing would.

  The buzz from her last sip of JD was wearing off, and she became painfully aware of the silence. Girls’ nights out were never silent. Never.

  She looked up at her two best friends. Concern filled their bloodshot eyes. How much Jack Daniels had they drunk? Sue picked up the bottle.

  “I think we’re going to have to beat it out of her,” Lacy said. “Get me the flyswatter.”

  “Please,” Sue said. “We came here to talk about sex and food. Not about my having sex with Jason.”

  They both screamed.

  “What?” Sue asked.

  “You just admitted it!” Lacy said. “You had sex with Jason!”

  “Oh, Lordie!” Kathy clutched her heart. “First Lacy, and now you. You both know what that means? I win the Most Horny award from here on out!” She sighed in mock sadness.

  “Not so quick,” Lacy interrupted. “I’ve had a very slow week. And, oh, I gotta tell you about Chase’s nieces.”

  “You had a slow week?” Kathy asked. “My vibrator gave up the ghost, and I haven’t had the courage to go buy another one.”

  “Isn’t this your second?” Lacy teased.

  Kathy shot an elbow into her ribs. “I’m making funeral arrangements and a wreath. I thought maybe you guys could come over one day next week and we could give it a proper burial in my backyard.”

  Lacy and Kathy both laughed, and then they looked at Sue. Their smiles flat lined.

  “What’s wrong?” Lacy asked.

  Sue blinked the watery sheen from her vision and drew in a shaky breath. “Kathy’s vibrator died,” she said. “I always cry at funerals.”

  “Oh, please. Spill it.” Kathy grabbed the Jack Daniels bottle.

  Sue blinked a few actual tears from her eyes. “Jason kissed my ex-husband,” she confessed.

  Then she confessed about the lesbian living in her ex-husband’s body.

  Then she confessed that she loved Jason Dodd. Madly. Completely.

  And with the confession came a whole lot of tears and snot. It wasn’t pretty.

  Jason had gone to the precinct hoping to get a copy of the report, but the report hadn’t been completed, and the only thing he’d been able to dig up was the address of the owners of the Saturn.

  “I’m trying to explain something here.” Jason watched the Andrewses, the owners of the stolen gold Saturn, take verbal swings at each other.

  “I told you that asshole still had our car,” Kay Andrews snarled at her husband. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to loan it to him.”

  “I’m not saying the guy did it,” Jason repeated. Not that he expected them to listen, when they seemed only focused on hurting each other. “I just need some—”

  “He was my best friend through high school,” Mr. Andrews snapped. “Just because you don’t have any friends…”

  “I
would if you didn’t freaking run them off,” his wife fired back.

  “If you mean Lilly, she came at me with a frying pan!” The man glanced at Jason. “Wouldn’t you run her off?”

  “Maybe,” Jason admitted, then shut up. He remembered Kathy showing up at Sue’s and the wart comments. And Lacy’s anti-Jason campaign. Were all girlfriends bad on relationships?

  The husband continued, “Tell her I’m not crazy for saying that bitch can’t come back to my house.”

  Not willing to get involved, Jason shrugged, then watched the pair throw verbal daggers at one another.

  Now here was one fine example of the institution of marriage, Jason thought.

  “Excuse me,” Jason said after having heard enough. “All I need is some information. What is the guy’s name? Does he have any other family in town? If I remember correctly, I heard the guy just moved back into town. Do you know where he moved from?”

  “I know where he wanted to move to,” the wife snapped. “He thought he could just stay here.”

  “Yeah, and after I told him he could, I had to tell him he couldn’t because my wife is—”

  “Your wife is tired of your deadbeat friends.” She fled the room, and Jason decided he wouldn’t miss her. The husband looked just as relieved.

  “Sorry,” he said. “She has PMS. She’s not normally a bitch.”

  Jason nodded but didn’t waste any more time. “What’s this guy’s—”

  “My wife doesn’t like him because he was my best man at my first wedding. Yeah, he’s a little strange sometimes, and yes, he’s a bit of a moocher. But, I feel sorry for him. His parents died a few years back, and I don’t think the guy has any family that amounts to much. But Mike’s a nice—”

  “Mike?” Jason remembered Michael Braxton was the name of the artist. “What’s your friend’s last name?”

  It was eleven when he knocked on Chase’s door. Chase opened it, and Jason shoved a bag into his hands.

  “What’s this?” his friend asked.

  “Supplies.” Jason grinned at the confusion on his friend’s face. “An apology for my being a jerk.”

  “You’re always a jerk.” Chase looked in the bag. “Wow! Champagne, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, M&M’s, and…” He reached into the bag and pulled out the other item. “A MoonPie?” His brows knitted together.