His Third Wife

“I told you and your mother, it was nothing! I wasn’t cheat—”

“I don’t care about that—” Jamison grabbed Val’s arms and started shaking. “I just need to know who it was. It’s not even about you.”

Val wrestled loose from Jamison’s hold and his wild eyes and told him that name. The story. The past.

“It was over between us when I met you,” Val said after telling. “And then he just showed up asking all these questions. That night at Paschal’s—he had all these questions about you. And then he wanted to know what you knew about Dax’s murder.”

Jamison pushed away from Val and went to the window to look at the shadows gathering in the ground at the promise of night coming.

“I knew something was up—something was going on, but I—I was afraid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jamison whispered.

“I was afraid. Afraid of what he’d do to you. To us,” Val said. “He’s dangerous, Jamison.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“For what? What are you going to do?” Val asked.

But Jamison didn’t respond. He never would. He went to the nightstand to gather his keys and his cell phone and walked out of the bedroom, out of the house, away from Val.

“Enemy Territory”

Keet walked into the mayor’s office the next day with a smile and a ginger step. He was in an argyle sweater and penny loafers. The visit came via an invitation from Jamison’s receptionist, who knew only her orders and greeted Keet in the lobby.

“Officer Neales, welcome to Mayor Jamison Taylor’s office.” She shook his hand. “The mayor will be with you in a minute. Please know we don’t allow recording devices of any kind beyond the reception area. I’ll hold your cell phone up front. If you’d like a picture with the mayor, I can bring the phone back in after your meeting.”

“Darling, I know the rules.” Keet held out his hand. “No phone. No camera. No recording devices.”

“Wonderful. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Jamison and Leaf had come up with the idea to invite Keet to the office over a beer at a bar the night Val had told her story. The plan was simple: talk—say what they knew and see what he’d say. Keet may have been dangerous—obviously he was dangerous—but he wasn’t stupid. They could get him on their territory. Play by their rules.

“Brother Neales,” Jamison said, standing at his desk when Keet walked in with his receptionist. He offered Keet a seat and excused the receptionist. Leaf was in the room adjacent to the office listening in. “I’m glad you agreed to come today.”

Keet sat and opened his legs wide in comfort and ease, but the smile on his face had so many levels.

“I’m sure you know I didn’t call you down here about a job,” Jamison started. “I’m sure you know I know that was never your intention.”

“Maybe it was,” Keet said free of his stuttering. “Maybe that was my intention—a long, long time ago.”

“Well, it’s not now,” Jamison said. “We both know that. You want something else. Something that has you following me around. Following my wife around. And, you know, I can say that because I don’t think you want it to be a secret. I think you’ve been waiting for me to figure it out.”

“Why would I want you to do that?” Keet asked.

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. What I’ve been trying to figure out all morning. All night. We know it’s not that you want to be here. And it can’t be that you want me in your pocket—I know there’s already a list of people both of us know, who think they have me in their pocket.”

“Really? Like whom?”

Jamison went on with his list. “And—and it can’t be that you want both sides of your bread buttered. You’d be found out soon enough and, well, whoever’s on the other side of this toast, they wouldn’t take too kindly to that.”

“So what if they do?”

“Humph . . .” Jamison rocked back in his big leather chair and weighed options he hadn’t really considered yet. “Well, if they do, whoever they are, they’d probably get rid of you. Because they don’t need you. For whatever they want to do.”

Keet laughed to suggest that Jamison was wasting his time.

“You’re funny as fuck, Mr. Mayor,” Keet said. “Always have me laughing. Can’t even watch the news without you having me laughing—you know, that performance you made on Fox yesterday. Pure entertainment.”