Free Heart of a Killer by David Rosenfelt Page B

skin. He had asked why Novack didn’t do anything about his suspicions at the time of Charlie Harrison’s murder. The answer had been the right one; once Sheryl Harrison confessed, there were other cases that more urgently needed his attention.
    But it was bullshit, and Novack knew it. The case had bothered Novack ever since, and he had the autonomy to have pursued it if he thought it was worthwhile. But he never did, and even though he made the excuse to Wagner, he knew better.
    Of course, time was always a factor, and there was never enough of it, but at this point he was going to make the time. He would try to find out what really went on in that room that day, and whether Sheryl Harrison killed Charlie or not.
    He was tired of beating himself up over this case; he had plenty of other cases to beat himself up over.
    Sheryl’s mission to save her daughter’s life and give up her own was not the motivating factor for Novack. He wasn’t sure where he came down on the issue, and didn’t spend much time thinking about it. Deep philosophical thinking was not really Novack’s thing, especially when the issue at hand was strictly other people’s business.
    But if he were pressed, he’d probably be on the side of saving the daughter’s life. He and his ex-wife Cindy didn’t have any children, but if they had, Novack would do everything he could for that kid, including giving up his own life, if that became necessary. So he admired and respected Sheryl’s guts, whether or not she slit Charlie’s throat.
    Novack had discussed it the night before with Cindy. She was pretty much the only person in the world that he ever had an outside-of-work conversation with that didn’t include the words “Knicks,” “Mets,” “Giants,” or “Jets.”
    He and Cindy were married for seven years, which could best be described as turbulent. Novack was simply impossible to be married to; he was moody and difficult, and his level of impossibility exactly mirrored what was happening at work.
    There were many good moments, and she loved him, but he was just too unpredictable, and she didn’t want to walk on eggshells all the time. So finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, and she threw him out. She immediately filed for divorce, which he did not contest, and began the process of overhauling her life.
    She finished her masters in speech therapy and got a good job in an already thriving private practice. She started dating, nothing too serious, which was just as well, since there was a problem.
    Its name was Novack.
    For all practical purposes, Novack didn’t recognize the divorce. He took an apartment of his own, but considered the post-marriage situation simply a phase. He kept showing up at Cindy’s house, helping her whenever he could, and just hanging out until she told him to leave.
    It definitely inhibited her dating, since Novack was six foot two, a hundred and ninety pounds, was trained in martial arts, and carried a gun. Prospective suitors found that to be a somewhat unappealing combination.
    And the truth was that Cindy didn’t mind. This was a different Novack, attentive, respectful, and even, her mind boggled at the thought, sensitive. Plus, since they didn’t live together, she could throw him out whenever he started to get on her nerves, though that happened on surprisingly few occasions.
    Sex between them, though always satisfying to both, became even better. And money, a cause of some friction in the past, was not an issue, since they kept separate finances. Cindy actually made more than he did, which was a secret she would carry to her grave and beyond.
    They were planning a vacation, for one week starting that Monday. Nothing fancy, they were heading to Long Beach Island, New Jersey. Surprisingly, Cindy was looking forward to it without any trepidation, even though it was the first vacation they would take together since the divorce. She figured that if any problems came up, they were advanced enough to handle