Read It Isn't Cheating if He's Dead for Free Online Page A

lecture hall. She was third-year law.
He was a professor exiting the hall after giving a lecture to a fresh-faced
bunch of med students. He bought her a coffee and they became friends. For a
year she tried to rein in her growing desire — his hair, his eyes, his
brilliant mind. All so sexy. But at that ass-slapping second, she fell
hopelessly in love.
    She had laughed. “One point to you, Mr.
Cord Fitzbottom.”
    He’d remembered. He couldn’t have lost his entire
mind.
    Her legs were heavy from the brandy, her mind
too fuzzy to concentrate. She refilled her mug with straight coffee.
    Finn had tucked the autopsy file into the
accordion folder and shuffled some of the papers. Her name typed on the label
of one near the table’s edge caught her attention. She picked it up and flipped
it open.
    “What’s this?”
    His cheeks blazed and he tried to snatch
the folder from her hand.
    “Oh no you don’t. It appears to belong to
me, my name on it and all.” She scanned the first page and looked up at him,
her jaw set. “You suspected me?”
    “Standard operating procedure. Always check
out the spouse.”
    “But we were never ma —”
    “Or the girlfriend, lover. Fiancée. You
know, the ones closest to the victim.”
    “I see.” She closed the file and slid it to
him with force. “And now? You still think I’m guilty?”
    “Jem, I had to look into it. It’s procedure.”
He put the folder into the file by his feet and slouched back in the chair. “I
never thought you did anything to him. I had to check. For the file.”
    She crossed her arms. “And what did you
find?”
    “A huge insurance policy benefitting you if
he died.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Gerald took out life insurance a month
before he disappeared. Bought a five-year term and paid all the premiums up
front. The rep told me no one’s ever done that before.”
    She shook her head. “Why? Why wouldn’t he
tell me that?”
    “I’ve no idea. But when my sergeant
suggested you have him declared dead, you flat out refused. I always knew you
didn’t do it but that cemented it. If you were after the insurance, you would
have jumped at that.”
    He pulled the file out and flipped through
the pages, then yanked one free of the metal prongs that held it in place. He
slid it across the table.
    She picked it up, the thin paper like a
brick in her hand. Certificate of insurance. Two-point-five-million.
    “I guess you can cash that in now.”
    She leapt from the chair and took the
stairs two at a time. Regurgitated coffee and brandy burned her throat and
filled the toilet. She leaned back against the tub and sobbed.
    He’d planned it. He meant to leave her. It
wasn’t only the crazy’s fault.
    “Jem?” Finn’s voice echoed up the
staircase. “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.”
    “Should I come back next week?”
    No. Don’t come back.
    “Yes. Thanks.”
    defend the
cretins
    Jem awoke at five, showered and drank her
coffee, made dozens of sandwiches and piled into the van to feed her homeless
friends. Same thing every morning for the past week. Like she was on
auto-pilot.
    Work could wait. The partners were billing-hour
Nazis, demanding up to eighty hours charged out per week. But when she told them
Gerald had been found murdered, they shifted cases to other associates, filed
motions on her behalf. They gave her time off. As much as she needed.
    Was there that much time?
    The park seemed in some kind of stasis. Residents
that were there one day were still there the next. No more freaky new guys, only
Chief, silent and still as ever. Even Jeremy stuck around to see Jem, ‘his saviour,’
and eat her sandwiches. Apparently she made the best sandwiches.
    Frank and Angus teased and flirted with her.
They gave her daily reports on the comings and goings of their little world. Chief
ate what she’d left him. And Jeremy reported that Chief had pissed in the
bushes by the light of the moon. He even looked like he’d put on a little
weight. Her