Free Born to Be Wild by Catherine Coulter Page B

this morning, I saw that he hadn’t come home. I was really mad, Chief Wolf, really mad. I made coffee, went out to get the newspaper, through the garage. I saw him lying on the garage floor, between the cars.” She looked faintly disconnected. “There was blood splattered all over the Mercedes. It’s white, you know. It looked sort of like a postmodern painting. I remember thinking it reminded me of Randolph Crier’s work. I remember thinking Jason loves that car, he’ll be—” Her eyes misted up again. “Then I realized he was dead and he won’t care now, will he?”
    Jack kept his voice low and calm. “No, he won’t care now. You never awoke during the night?”
    â€œNo, I’m a sound sleeper.”
    â€œTell me what you fought about, Mrs. Maynard.”
    Again, an instant when she considered a lie, and then she said, “Who cares who knows the truth now? The thing is, Jason had a girlfriend over in Cloverdale.”
    â€œAnd her name is…?”
    Marci Maynard shook her head. “I have no idea. I never wanted to know. I’ll bet everyone knows her name but me.”
    â€œIncluding your parents?”
    â€œMy father, certainly. My father knows everything. When I was growing up, I could never get away with anything. He always found out. Always. My mother? If she knows, she’d force herself to lock it away, real deep.”
    â€œHow do you know his girlfriend lives in Cloverdale?”
    She frowned, looked down at her hands. “I suppose I must have heard someone say something about Jason going over to Cloverdale a lot these days. Yes, that’s it.”
    â€œWho said that?”
    â€œI don’t remember. Ask my dad, he probably knows all about it, like I said.”
    â€œI’ll ask him. How long was this affair going on?”
    Marci pleated the white chenille bedspread. “Maybe three months, give or take.”
    â€œHow did you find out about it?”
    â€œA wife knows, Chief Wolf. A wife always knows. There doesn’t have to be lipstick on a shirt collar. Jason was different, in bed, out of bed. I knew, and last night, he admitted it when I accused him.”
    â€œHad you spoken to him about this before your fight last night?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œLast night was the very first time he wanted to leave during the evening. He even made up this stupid lie about seeing a client so he could get away. Like I said, he’d never done that before. I couldn’t very well ignore it any longer, now could I? So I called him on it.”
    â€œHe admitted to the affair but he didn’t tell you her name.”
    â€œNo, he didn’t, and believe me, I asked him several times. But he did go on with the usual crap about how she was the one who really understood him, who gave him what he needed. I’ll be honest here, Chief Wolf, if I’d had a gun I might have shot him, right there in the middle of the living room.” She paused a moment, looking toward her white-lace-curtained window. She looked up at him again. “If I had, then at least at his funeral, we could still tell it was Jason.”
    That was surely the truth. “Were you ever tempted to get back at him, Mrs. Maynard? To have an affair yourself? Maybe a brief one? For revenge?”
    She looked at him straight on. “Yes, I thought about it. In fact, I even cruised the Night Owl last week, half looking to see if there was a guy there for me, a guy bigger and better looking than Jason. I didn’t see anyone who interested me. Then I realized how stupid it was.”
    â€œYou play golf, Mrs. Maynard?”
    She nodded. “Most everyone we know plays golf.”
    â€œDid either of you own Callaways?”
    â€œMy clubs are Titleist. Jason wouldn’t ever let me touch his Pings.”
    â€œWhere do you keep your golf clubs?”
    â€œThey’re in the front hallway closet along with a pile