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with holiday shoppers, and Fender was worn out. Business was good, but it was tiring, actually selling jewelry instead of goofing off.
    And then he saw it: an unmistakably huge frizz of blond-streaked hair. Oh, Jesus. Naomi. Jimmy’s Naomi. As in get-me-a-canary-diamond-or-I-will-tie-your-balls-in-a-knot Naomi. God, he’d called all over town to get a yellow diamond for ol’ Jimmy. Fender remembered the pained tone of Jimmy’s voice after he’d told the poor guy how much it’d cost to get the one he’d found in Portland. But Jimmy had spent the money, all in the name of love, marriage, and the American dream.
    “Excuse me.”
    The hair was hovering in front of him. Oh Lord, she said something . “Can I help you?”
    “Do you remember me? I came in here with Jimmy.”
    “Yes, I remember you. Naomi, wasn’t it?” Fender felt a headache coming on.
    “Let me tell you what I’m here for, and you tell me if you can help me.”
    “Okay.”
    “How much is the ring worth?” She took it off her finger and chucked it on the counter. Fender cringed as it clattered against the glass of the display.
    “Well, now, that’s not totally easy to say. It’s a custom ring, you know.”
    “Look, just tell me what it’s worth. I want to know what Jimmy was willing to spend on his second wife. You know, the runner-up, the second-best choice, the consolation prize.” Here she sucked in her breath, like she was going to discuss some horrible atrocity. “His trophy wife.” Her voice was sour, like lemon squeezed into a weak drink.
    You’re one hell of a trophy to win . “Well, Jimmy bought it as a gift. I don’t think he intended for you to know what it cost. It kind of spoils the sentiment, doesn’t it?”
    “What it does is tighten his hold over me. That’s what my therapist says. She says no woman should be bought for a shiny piece of glass. She says Jimmy wants me to think I can be bought or sold like property, that he owns me. Like our wedding gave him power over me.”
    Fender realized he was in the wrong profession, obviously. He should be blowing smoke up somebody’s ass for a hundred bucks an hour.
    He took a deep breath and looked the stupid bitch straight in the eye. “Jimmy doesn’t strike me as a tyrant. In fact, he seems like a really nice guy. He bought you a very expensive diamond because you wanted it. Now you come in here and want to know what it’s worth? He only bought it because you wanted it, and you think he was trying to buy you? I think that’s damn sad.”
    Her blond head quivered under all that hair. “Fine.” She picked up the ring and walked out.
    Well, now, that was fun. Jimmy is a poor bastard . Fender decided a beer at the Corral was definitely in order—in honor of Jimmy, the husband wedded to the wife from hell.
    It was quiet at the Corral. Most normal people didn’t frequent it until they’d consumed a good number of drinks in some other more-respectable establishment. That was one reason Fender came here early. He could rest assured there would be no hipster nonsense or collegiate crap for another couple hours.
    He felt kind of bad for avoiding the Rendezvous, but he just didn’t want to see Pop tonight. His father always had to reign supreme over the crowd in there and act like being a regular endeared him to all the customers. Most of the time Fender could deal with Pop’s unrelenting friendliness and hospitality, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood.
    He also didn’t want to discuss the dead guy’s ring or girlfriend with Pop. He could talk about it with Sam. He hadn’t seen Sam in a long time, and maybe he could understand why this ring thing bugged him so much. And if Sam didn’t understand, hell—they could just get tanked.
    He stepped outside to call him. The phone rang twice before someone answered it.
    “ What?”
    “Hey, Sam, it’s Fender.”
    “Oh geez, sorry. Sears Credit’s called nine times in the last two hours, and I’m gettin’ sick of it. I keep