“I want to see to it that her murderer pays for what he did. And not just for selfish reasons, but because Lulu didn’t deserve to die.” Quinn slammed his half-full cup down on the counter, splashing the black liquid onto his hand. He reacted to the heat instantly, raised his hand and rubbed it across his mouth.
“You really liked her, didn’t you?” Kendall reached over and patted Quinn’s arm.
He cut his eyes toward her. “Do you find that amazing— that I’d actually like a woman who’s my lover?”
“No.” Kendall gazed at him contemplatively. “What I find amazing is that you’d actually like a woman, any woman.”
“What the hell do you mean by that? I love women. All women. You should know that, honey. Ask anybody who knows me and they’ll tell you that Quinn Cortez is a ladies’ man.”
“You may love women—all women—but you don’t like them as a general rule. If you liked women, you wouldn’t treat them the way you do.”
“I’ve never had any complaints.” The flip response shot out of his mouth instantly.
“I’m sure no woman has ever complained about your prowess as a lover,” Kendall told him. “But what about all the hearts you’ve broken? Don’t you think there are dozens of women out there who would love to see the great Quinn Cortez brought to his knees and begging for mercy.”
“I thought you said that I didn’t hurt you, back when we—”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about your reputation. Don’t you realize that if Lulu told just one person that she wanted more from you than a passionate fling, the police could build a case around that fact—that she was clinging to you and you couldn’t shake her without killing her?”
“Lulu never once said she wanted more from our relationship.”
“She didn’t say that to you, but can you be one hundred percent sure she never implied to anyone else that she was in love with you or wanted a committed relationship?”
Quinn slid off the bar stool and stood. “I can’t be certain of what she might or might not have told someone else. But I’m telling you that Lulu wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship with me or anybody.”
“I hope her family and friends will verify that fact.” Kendall bit off a chunk of protein bar, chewed and washed it down with coffee.
“Lulu’s family…” Quinn groaned. “I’d forgotten all about them. She has an elderly father and a half brother over in Mississippi somewhere. The old man still runs the Vanderley empire, with the help of a cousin. I can’t recall the cousin’s name. Abigail or Adelaide or something like that. I can hear Lulu saying, ‘Abi…Adel—Annabelle…’ That’s it, Annabelle. She’d say, ‘Annabelle is a real saint, a true martyr. I love her like a sister, but God, she’s such a bore.’ I suppose the Memphis police notified—”
Kendall stood, put her arms around Quinn and hugged him. “Don’t consider it a weakness to allow Lieutenant Norton and Sergeant George to see this I-actually-do-give-a-damn side of your personality.”
Quinn stepped back and looked directly at Kendall. “You think they’re going to charge me with Lulu’s murder, don’t you?”
“I think that if they don’t find another suspect and they can come up with the least bit of evidence against you, no matter how circumstantial, they just might try to pin this on you.”
On the way to the Criminal Justice Center, Jim Norton sipped on a container of black coffee as he maneuvered his seen-better-days Chevy truck along Poplar Avenue. He’d downed a cup of the high octane brew before he left his apartment in the Exchange Building, right after wolfing down a bowl of corn flakes. The alarm clock had gone off at six-thirty, but he’d hit the snooze button twice. He’d gotten all of maybe four hours sleep. He’d tried to get in touch with his ex-wife last night without any luck. He didn’t really give a damn where Mary Lee was or who she was with, but he sure as hell wanted to know where his son was. Spending the night with a friend again? Whenever Mary Lee needed to scratch an itch, she’d send Kevin to a friend’s for the night.
He could complain. He had in the past. But Mary Lee had pointed out to him that he was lucky she didn’t have sole custody. “What if you didn’t even have visitation rights?” she had asked him when he’d suggested she let him keep Kevin whenever she had a date. “All things considered, you’re lucky I let you see Kevin as much as I do. After all, if I hadn’t agreed to your getting some visitation rights—”
He’d just call her again later this morning—or at least try to—to make sure she hadn’t forgotten that he was supposed to pick up Kevin this evening and keep him until Monday morning. He’d made plans for them to spend tomorrow with his sister Susan’s family. Kevin enjoyed spending time with his three cousins, twin boys only a year older than he and a girl two years younger. Jim liked the idea of his son seeing what a real family was like. That’s what he’d wanted for Kevin—that all-American, mom-and-apple-pie life he and Susan had had as kids. But both he and Mary Lee had fucked up big time. And now, thanks to them, Kevin would never have what Jim had wanted most for his son.
He could blame it all on Mary Lee. And sometimes, especially when he’d had too much to drink, he did blame it all on her. But when completely sober and in the cold light of day, he knew he had to accept his share of the blame. Way back when he’d been a young hotshot with great ambition, he had neglected his wife and son. His arrogance and cockiness had gotten his partner killed, had put him in the hospital and had landed him in a heap of trouble with the department. By the time he’d healed physically and emotionally, he’d already lost his wife, even if they didn’t divorce until nearly three years later.
After pulling into his parking place and releasing his safety belt, Jim removed his cell phone from its holder and hit the button that instantly dialed his ex’s home phone number. Much to his surprise, she answered on the fifth ring.
“Mary Lee?”
“Yeah. Who were you expecting, the Queen of Sheba?”
“I tried calling last night.”
“I had a date.”
“Stayed out kind of late didn’t you?”
She laughed. “I stayed out all night. Just got in.”
If she thought telling him she’d spent the night with some guy would bother him, she was wrong. He had actually given a damn that she screwed another guy only one time. The time he’d caught her in the act. After that, she could have done it with every guy in Memphis for all he cared. He just hated that Kevin’s mother had gained a reputation as a…as a what? A slut who’d spread her legs for just about any guy?
Mary Lee had always been a little wild and God knew she hadn’t been a virgin when they got married, but he hadn’t cared. He’d been crazy about her. Hog-wild crazy. And she’d loved him, too. He knew she had.
“I just wanted to remind you that I’ll be picking Kevin up at six-thirty this evening,” Jim said. Now wasn’t the time to get into it with Mary Lee about Kevin spending too many nights at other people’s houses.
“He’ll be ready. He’s been looking forward to seeing you.”
“Yeah,
