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asked Clare as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Please sit,” she sighed and motioned toward a chair.

We were alone in the hotel room, and I didn’t like it. Apparently, her husband didn’t either.

“You know what?” I said. “I would love to hear what you have to say, as I’m sure it relates to Jerry Steele, but let’s step outside.”

I gestured toward the door, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, sure,” she said before she grabbed a manilla envelope.

We moved onto the porch and sat on the steps of the cabin.

“I know you know,” she muttered as she fingered the envelope..

“I do,” I lied. “So, I guess it’s time to get it out in the open. You want to tell me exactly what’s going on?”

“Okay,” she sighed as she averted her gaze. “I’m sure by now you’ve called Southern Life Insurance.”

“Mmm.” I nodded. I hadn’t, but I kept the charade going.

“They will have told you all about the rules,” she muttered and continued to avoid my eyes.

“Yep,” I said with finality. “So, why?”

I figured that was a general enough question.

“Why does anyone?” she mused, and her voice choked up. “I didn’t expect it to happen this way. You should meet Thad. He’s got all the good parts of his dad. And,you … you would love him. You know he’s on the debate team? He’s ten, and he can argue either side of the death penalty.”

I was never in debate. I hated the debate club. I preferred the gender bending theatre buffs with their colored hair, piercings, underaged tattoos, and off brand music. But I was used to the preconceived notion that all lawyers must have been on the debate team in school.

“But,” Clare continued, “I knew he should have the best life possible.”

I nodded as I calculated what mental gymnastics she would have to perform to conclude the best life for Thad was offing his father for the insurance money.

Which, I presumed, must have been the topic we were talking around.

“So,” she sighed, “I hid it for a long time. Brian was the first.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, even though I wasn’t entirely sure yet what “it” she was hiding. I knew it was better to give non committal responses. That way, she would just keep rambling, and she’d give me all the answers I needed without me having to ask any questions and potentially make her clam up.

“Brian was this gorgeous model from Phoenix,” she murmured as her eyes went hazy, “and oh, he had this six pack.”

She grunted and whistled, and I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly.

Did I need to hear this?

“And he was hung like… ” She shook her head at the thought. “Anyway, that’s not my point.”

God, I hoped not.

“Things with Brian didn’t last long,” she went on. “The thing about Brian was that no one loved Brian quite like Brian. Except maybe the slew of ex-girlfriends he had all over the state.” She rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous. Anyway, he ended up going back to one of them. I don’t know which one. And that was that.”

I was thoroughly confused. So, this guy who was apparently five reps away from a porn star was her first homicide?

“But,” she sighed, “after that, I couldn’t do it, you know. It was too much to ask of anyone. Why would they write it like that? It was so cruel.”

Write? Was this one of Jerry’s news stories, or a film? What was she talking about?

“So,” she said, “then I met Jim. I met him at a show. I play live music sometimes at coffee houses and bars. You should come see us sometime.”

From prison? The thought ran through my head, but I just pursed my lips.

“It was a couple of years ago now,” Clare continued. “I played at this little bar downtown. It’s not even there anymore. But, afterward, Jim asked if he could buy me a drink. Everything went from there. We started hanging out more, and then, you know.”

She sighed and fingered the envelope.

“It got complicated,” she blurted out. “How could Jerry expect that from me? I mean, he’s got … well, you know, his little twenty year olds, what’s that one? Starts with ‘A’? Uh … ”

“Allison?” I supplied.

“Yeah!” She snapped her fingers and nodded. “I mean, he’s stringing her along with all of this stuff about, ‘Oh, yeah, baby, I’m going to take you to L.A., make you a big movie star.’ Such bullshit. He knew like two people in L.A.” She laughed and shook her head. “That was Jerry for you. Master of bullshit. He could sell it, too. That’s why I stayed with him for so long.”

She leaned back against the railing and looked out into the distance.

“I’m going to miss him, you know,” she went on. “He was an asshole. Complete jerk. Couldn’t live with him. But I loved him. A part of me still does.”

“Then what happened?” I prodded. I was so completely lost. I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Well,” she shrugged, “I mean, what do you think? I fell for Jim. And, we couldn’t be together, because of you know, the whole thing. So, we started sneaking around.” She paused and played with her hair. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. I am ruining any chance I have to … but it’s not like you don’t already know.”

“Right,” I said with a nod. “I just want to know why.”

Clare looked at me quizzically. “You keep saying that. What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I want to hear you say it,” I replied.

She looked scared. “Are you recording this or something? I mean you have to tell me, legally, if you’re bugged or something. Because I don’t consent to being recorded--”

“Calm down,

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