Free The Man She Married by Ann DeFee Page B

“Do you really think there’s something going on between Maizie and the tennis dude?”
    “No. I overreacted.”
    “The shouting match at the country club has hit the rumor mill.” Zack tossed in that bit of info.
    “I was afraid of that.” Clay glanced at Win. “But you’re not in the loop, huh? Kenni hasn’t said anything?”
    “Nope, afraid not.” Win called a waitress over. “Before we get too deep into this conversation I think I need some sustenance. How about you guys? You want some wings, or nachos or something?”
    “Why don’t you order up a couple of each? I’m sure we’ll be here long enough to polish ’em off.” Zack leaned back and crossed one booted foot on his knee. “So what are we missing?”
    Leave it to a cop to get right to it.
    “I messed up. I hadn’t told Maizie that my company’s in serious financial trouble and when she started raggingon me about not paying enough attention to her, I blurted it out.”
    “Bad move.” Win grimaced in commiseration.
    “Yeah, I know. So what do I do now?” Clay asked. “And even more important, is there something going on with the girls that I need to know about?”
    Zack shook his head. “I have a feeling they’re cooking up some kind of scheme, but honestly, I don’t have any particulars.”
    “Can you get anything out of Liza?” Clay asked, even knowing Zack wouldn’t betray his wife’s trust. “Forget that. But I would appreciate any help you can give me. I’m sure you’ve heard about Maizie tossing everything I own out on the lawn.” Clay frowned. “My national championship Little League trophy got broken. I worked my ten-year-old butt off to win that thing.”
    “Hey, man, that’s too bad,” Win sympathized. His compassion, however, didn’t deter him from digging into the nachos.
    “It’s not right when a man’s trophy gets busted,” Zack agreed.
    “So, back to what I can do.”
    “Do you love her?” Win asked, using his best courtroom interrogation skills.
    “Absolutely.”
    “Are you miserable?” Zack asked.
    “Yep, afraid so.”
    “Do you want to move out of Eleanor’s garage?” Zack tried to make it a serious question, but spoiled it by chuckling.
    “Are you kidding?”
    Zack and Win shared a glance before Zack took charge of the conversation. “Considering we’re working blind, I think your best bet is to hang tight and see what she does next. Then we can plan accordingly.”
    “I wouldn’t wait too long, though,” Win added. “That’s a sure way to mess things up.” He spoke from the experience of a trial lawyer.
    “Wait, but not too long. How do I know what’s too long?” Clay asked. “Do I wait a week? Longer?”
    “Why don’t you try for a week, and then if nothing has happened we can reconvene and discuss the next step,” Zack suggested. Win nodded his agreement.
    “I’m game. So you really think she’ll try something soon?”
    “I’d be surprised if she didn’t,” Zack said. “The Westerfield twins aren’t known for their patience.”
     
    A N HOUR AND A HALF later Clay parked his Dodge king cab beside his in-laws’ garage apartment. What was that on the porch?
    Clay cut the engine and carefully mounted the stairs. What was that thing? Pom-poms? Beer cans? He started laughing and couldn’t stop. Until the stink bomb went off.
    That stench was unmistakable. Back in junior high Clay and a buddy set off a couple of those in the boys’ restroom. Now, he kicked the basket off the porch in frustration. It was the best he could do until the smell dissipated.
    So that’s what she thought of him. Clay scrubbed his hand over his face. Damn! Instead of offering an apology, Maizie had launched a particularly odious volley.
    This was war.

Chapter Sixteen

    The Westerfield ladies had their noses pressed against the kitchen window eagerly awaiting Clay’s reaction. There was a collective gasp when he deep-sixed the basket and stomped into the apartment.
    “Why did he do that?”