I opened the door to the den and stepped inside. Jennifer was still sitting at the desk and looked up at me. “I didn’t know you used to be a police officer,” she said softly. “Why did you quit?”
“My wife didn’t like my being a cop,” I said. “She didn’t like the hours, didn’t like the danger, and didn’t like the hold she said the department had on me.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “How does she like your working as a private investigator, then? It doesn’t seem to me that the hours are any better.”
“She’s not my wife any more,” I said. “We got divorced. Turns out it wasn’t my being a cop she didn’t like, it was me.”
An odd look formed in her beautiful green eyes and she sat there, looking thoughtful for a few moments, then she shook her head, as if she was trying to clear it. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“It was probably for the best,” I said. “She married an old boyfriend and I think she’s happier now than she ever was with me.”
“How about you?” Jennifer asked.
“What about me?” I replied.
“Are…are you happy?” she asked softly.
I shrugged. “I’m doing OK,” I said. “I could be happier, but I could be worse, too. My life changed, but it didn’t end. How are you doing?” I paused, “Other than with this guy hassling you? What happened to Horace?” I sat down in a comfortable leather chair opposite her desk.
“He…he contracted AIDS,” Jennifer said softly, with more than a trace of sadness in her voice. “I didn’t know if you knew that or not. It progressed rapidly. It was awful to see, really. They…his doctors…managed to keep him comfortable. And, in the end, the pain medication made it easier for him to end his life.”
“I was sorry to hear about Horace,” I told her, and I was. I knew that, even though she and her late husband didn’t have a traditional marriage, there was affection there, which is something not all married couples can say.
“Do…do you think you’ll be able to stop Raymond?” she asked softly.
“We’ll stop him,” I said. The thing was, I wasn’t sure how we’d stop him, but if it took the rest of my life, I would do it. Even, I knew, if it meant killing Raymond Gleason.
“Would...would you like a cup of coffee?” Jennifer asked. “I was just thinking about going out to the kitchen and getting myself a cup of hot chocolate.”
“I never turn down coffee,” I said, “especially when I know I’m going to have to stay up all night.”
Jennifer smiled and got up. So did I. We walked out to the kitchen. While Jennifer made herself a cup of hot chocolate, I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot already made.
Jennifer made a sour face when I poured the coffee. “I could have made some fresh coffee,” she said. “That must be terribly strong. It’s been on all day.”
“I like my coffee this way,” I told her. “If it floats the spoon, it’s just right.”
After she finished making the hot chocolate, Jennifer turned, leaned against the counter, and looked at me. “I still think about you,” she said tentatively.
“I think about you, too,” I replied. “How did you get hooked up with this guy?”
She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know, really,” she said. “It was one of the few lapses of judgment I had. I guess when I make a mistake, I make a big one, huh?”
“It looks like it turned out that way,” I said.
“I met Ray when we were probating Horace’s will,” she said. “All we…Horace and I…went through there at the end, it was awful.”
“It must have been,” I said.
Jennifer sipped some of her hot chocolate. “I guess my judgment wasn’t what it could have been,” she said softly. “After Horace was gone I was terribly lonely and afraid. And…well…I guess Ray must have sensed that. Things happened, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I’d made a mistake. When I did, I broke off with him, but…” She shrugged.
“We’ll get him off your back,” I said. “I promise.”
Jennifer smiled at me and nodded. She sipped more of her hot chocolate. “How are you enjoying being single?” she asked. “Have...have you found anyone?”