V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)

He laughed. “Fair enough. I promise I won’t beat you over the head with it the next time we get into an argument.”

“You’re a love,” she said. “So how goes the quest to fill the empty seat?”

“I’ve put out feelers, but so far no luck.”

“Good. I’m glad. Because the real reason I was calling was to offer a change of plans. I can be down there by three with no problem at all. Truly, I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do after being such a bitch.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “No need for that. You go about your day. Sounds like you’re busy enough as it is. If I can’t find a tablemate, I’ll do as you suggested and go on my own. It’s no big deal.”

Nora smiled to herself. What a liar he was. Thelma had probably been tapped as his date since the invitation crossed her desk. No telling how many social engagements she’d redirected to her own personal use. Nora knew perfectly well Channing hadn’t warned her in advance because he wanted to catch her flat-footed. He made a point of putting her in a bind so her refusal to go would be her fault instead of his.

“I don’t want you to have to go by yourself,” she said. “You poor dear. I thought I’d put a call through to Meredith and see if she and Abner want to meet for drinks ahead of time. That way, we could all go in one car.”

Channing’s response was smooth, but she knew him well enough to sense his desperation. By capitulating, she’d gained the upper hand and put the burden back on him. He was committed by now. Thelma fully expected to go as his date and he could hardly turn around and tell her he’d be attending with his wife. “I appreciate the offer. Really, it’s more than generous, but why don’t we take a rain check. Next time our schedules conflict, I’ll call in my marker.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good. Then we have a deal. Next time I swear I’ll go without making a fuss.”

“Perfect. I’d like that.”

“Meanwhile, enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll do my best. Full report afterward.”

“Love you.”

“You too,” he said. “I’ve got another call coming in.”

As soon as she was off the phone, Nora picked up her handbag and car keys. She stuck her head in the kitchen, where Mrs. Stumbo was down on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

“I have some appointments this afternoon, but I should be back by five. As soon as you finish, why don’t you take the rest of the day off. You’ve been working way too hard.”

“Thank you. I could use the time.”

“Just be sure to lock up. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Within minutes, she was heading south on the 101. She took pleasure in the drive because it gave her an opportunity to conduct an emotional self-examination. She needed to assess the situation with all the calm she could muster. She knew she was right about Thelma, but so far she had no proof. It didn’t have to be evidence that would stand up in court. The situation would probably never come to that, but she wanted the satisfaction of knowing she was right. Poor substitute for having her marriage intact. Channing made a point of keeping his credit card statements at the office so there was no way to determine when he and Thelma had first hopped in the sack. Looking back, she could probably pinpoint the business trip where it all began.

Repeat encounters wouldn’t have been conducted at the office because privacy there was in short supply. Half the partners worked late, showing up at all hours to finish business that couldn’t be squeezed into the typical ten-hour day. Channing and his beloved Thelma, the whore, would have cavorted at the house in Malibu, thus saving the expense of a hotel room. Nora would have to boil the sheets before she slept in her own bed again.

She spotted a CHP black-and-white lurking at an overpass, invisible to northbound traffic. She glanced down at the speedometer needle, which wavered between eighty-seven and ninety miles an hour. She took her foot off the accelerator and put her racing thoughts in neutral. Maybe she was more stressed out about Thelma than she knew. In her mind, once she’d recovered from her initial humiliation, she’d felt curiously detached. The fact that her husband was involved with someone so common left her more insulted than devastated. From a practical standpoint, she could see how convenience and proximity made Thelma the logical choice. Channing’s moral sensibilities were finely tuned. He would never screw around with another attorney in the firm and certainly not with one of his partners’ wives. He was much too pragmatic to risk a breach of that magnitude. A violation of professional ethics could well blow up in his face. There were certainly countless Hollywood actresses, clients of his, who’d have jumped at the chance to seduce and be seduced, but that was another line he wouldn’t cross. Thelma was a hireling, one down by definition. If the affair turned sour and he ended up firing her, she might sue for sexual harassment, but that was probably the worst she could do. Knowing Channing, he’d already set up safeguards against the day.