‘My dad was a cop,’ he said. ‘But I do like the gun idea
– now we just need someone to match it to besides you.
Nothing is too far out. If she argued with a neighbor
constantly over a barking dog, if she was forced to rebuff a
flirty guy, whatever you got, I need. What do you know about
Tommy O’Hara?’
‘Right! I know he called the tip line a few times.’
‘He was accused of date-raping Amy in 2005.’
I felt my mouth open, but I said nothing.
‘She was dating him casually. There was a dinner date
at his place,
things got out of hand, and he raped her,
according to my sources.’
‘When in 2005?’
‘May.’
It was during the eight months when I’d lost Amy – the
time between our New Year’s meeting and my finding her
again on Seventh Avenue.
Tanner tightened his tie,
twisted a diamond-studded
wedding band, assessing me. ‘She never told you.’
‘I haven’t heard a single thing about this,’ I said. ‘From
anyone. But especially not from Amy.’
‘You’d be surprised, the number of women who still
find it a stigma. Ashamed.’
‘I can’t believe I—’
‘I try never to show up to one of these meetings without
new information for my client,’ he said. ‘I want to show you
how serious I am about your case. And how much you need
me.’
‘This guy could be a suspect?’
‘Sure, why not,’ Tanner said too breezily. ‘He has a
violent history with your wife.’
‘Did he go to prison?’
‘She dropped the charges. Didn’t want to testify, I
assume. If you and I decide to work together, I’ll have him
checked out. In the meantime, think of
anyone
who took an
interest in your wife. Better if it’s someone in Carthage,
though. More believable. Now—’
Tanner crossed a leg,
exposed his bottom row of teeth, uncomfortably bunched
and stained in comparison with his perfect picket-fence top
row. He held his crooked teeth against his upper lip for a
moment. ‘Now
comes the harder part, Nick,’ he said. ‘I
need total honesty from you, it won’t work any other way. So
tell me everything about your marriage, tell me the worst.
Because if I know the worst, then I can plan for it. But if I’m
surprised, we’re fucked. And if we’re fucked,
you’re
fucked.
Because I get to fly away in my G4.’
I took a breath. Looked him in the eyes. ‘I cheated on
Amy. I’ve been cheating on Amy.’
‘Okay. With multiple women or just one?’
‘No, not multiple. I’ve never cheated before.’
‘So, with
one
woman?’ Bolt asked, and looked away,
his eyes resting on a watercolor of a sailboat as he twirled
his wedding band. I could picture him phoning his wife later,
saying,
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