Free The Final Detail: A Myron Bolitar Novel by Harlan Coben

done?”
    Myron shrugged. “Help maybe.”
    “Help how?”
    He shrugged again, spread his arms. “I don’t know what to say, Bonnie. I’m flailing here.”
    She looked at him a moment, challenging, then dropped her eyes. “I’m just lashing out at whoever’s in front of me,” she said. “Don’t pay any attention.”
    “I don’t mind; lash away.”
    Bonnie almost managed a smile. “You’re a good guy, Myron. You always were. Even at Duke there was something about you that was—I don’t know—noble, I guess.”
    “Noble?”
    “Sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
    “Very,” he said. “How are the boys?”
    She shrugged. “Timmy is only eighteen months old so he doesn’t have a clue. Charlie is four so he’s just pretty confused right now. My parents are taking care of them.”
    “I don’t want to keep sounding like a bad cliché,” Myron said, “but if there’s anything at all I can do …”
    “One thing.”
    “Name it.”
    “Tell me about the arrest.”
    Myron cleared his throat. “What about it?”
    “I’ve met Esperanza a few times over the years. I guess I find it hard to believe she’d kill Clu.”
    “She didn’t do it.”
    Bonnie squinted a bit. “What makes you so sure?”
    “I know Esperanza.”
    “That’s it?”
    He nodded. “For now.”
    “Have you spoken to her?”
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    “I can’t talk about specifics”—mostly because he didn’t know any; Myron was almost grateful that Esperanza had not told him anything—“but she didn’t do it.”
    “What about all the evidence the police found?”
    “I can’t answer that yet, Bonnie. But Esperanza is innocent. We’ll find the real killer.”
    “You sound so sure.”
    “I am.”
    They fell into silence. Myron waited, mapping out an approach. There were questions that needed to be asked, but this woman had just lost her husband. One had to tread gently lest one trip an emotional land mine.
    “I’m going to look into the murder,” Myron said.
    She looked confused. “What do you mean, look into?”
    “Investigate.”
    “But you’re a sports agent.”
    “I have some background in this.”
    She studied his face. “Win too?”
    “Yes.”
    She nodded as if something suddenly made sense. “Win always scared the crap out of me.”
    “That’s only because you’re sane.”
    “And now you’re going to try to figure out who killed Clu?”
    “Yes.”
    “I see,” she said. She shifted in her chair. “Tell me something, Myron.”
    “Anything.”
    “What’s your priority here: finding the murderer or getting Esperanza off?”
    “One and the same.”
    “And if they’re not? If you learn Esperanza killed him?”
    Time to lie. “Then she’ll be punished.”
    Bonnie started smiling as though she could see the truth. “Good luck,” she said.
    Myron put an ankle up on a knee.
Gentle now
, he thought. “Can I ask you something?”
    She shrugged. “Sure.”
    Gently, gently. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Bonnie. I’m not asking this to be nosy—”
    “Subtlety is not your strong suit, Myron; Just ask your question.”
    “Were you and Clu having problems?”
    A sad grin. “Weren’t we always?”
    “I hear this was something more serious.”
    Bonnie folded her arms below her chest. “My, my. Back less than a day and already you’ve learned so much. You work fast, Myron.”
    “Clu mentioned it to Win.”
    “So what do you want to know?”
    “Were you suing him for divorce?”
    “Yes.” No hesitation.
    “Can you tell me what happened?”
    In the distance the fax machine started its primordial screech. The phone continued beeping. Myron had no fear that they’d be interrupted. Big Cyndi had worked for years as a bouncer at an S&M bar; when the situation called for it, she could be as nasty as a rabid rhino with a bad case of piles. Er, even when the situation didn’t call for it.
    “Why do you want to know?” Bonnie asked.
    “Because Esperanza didn’t kill him.”
    “That’s