After It's Over Read online

  One night, his girl on the side canceled on him. He came home to find Evelyn sitting behind the wheel of her running car with the garage door closed. Bianca had been safely tucked in bed as he pulled her mother from the car; his ex-wife was barely breathing when the paramedics arrived.

  Ben could still picture Evelyn lying in the hospital bed, pale and unconscious with tubes coming out of her. The doctors said it was a miracle that she survived. Five more minutes and Ben would have been a widower. The idea of Bianca growing up without a mother had sobered Ben. He knew he had to change or get out. So he stopped cheating and recommitted to his marriage. In turn, Evelyn stopped buying prescription meds from the other stay-at-home moms.

  When Bianca was six, they decided to have Bev. They were happy for a few years after that. Bianca seemed to thrive in the role of big sister and Evelyn appeared content with their life. But then Ben met Beth and everything changed forever.

  Tech Sargent Beth Barton was twenty, short, curvy and had a way of making every guy she met feel like they were the only man in the room. The squad was full of single guys with plenty of time and money to burn, but Beth chose him. Ben was doomed from the first time they made eye contact. She was clever and coy. She worked on him daily for months. When they found themselves alone in the supply closet, Ben was putty in her hands. Sex at work was just the beginning of their tawdry affair.

  They managed to sneak around for a few months before Evelyn found out. When she confronted him, they fought and had angry sex. He expected her to beg him to change, but she didn’t. Instead, Evelyn packed up their daughters and left him. The divorce papers were signed before he found out that Billie was on the way. He masked his guilt by drinking and sleeping with as many women as he could. Beth was relegated to the back burner, but she didn’t care. She said she’d wait forever if she had to. While Ben partied, Evelyn graduated to hardcore substance abuse. The divorce did nothing to heal the wounds he had inflicted; she constantly self-medicated. When Billie was two, he showed up for his weekend visitation and found Evelyn passed out on the kitchen floor. That was the last time the girls had lived with their mother. Ben rubbed his head and tried to push the guilt out of his mind.

  I need a drink.

  Ignoring the sound of the girls arguing in the garage, he made his way to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of Grey Goose out of the freezer and grabbed a glass.

  “It’s a little early to be hitting the hard stuff, isn’t it?” Paige asked.

  Ben started at the sound of his wife. She stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in a tight skirt and blouse that showed the tiniest bit of cleavage.

  “I was just going to take a sip,” he replied.

  Paige walked down the steps and into the kitchen. She took the bottle from his hand and returned to it to the freezer.

  “You can’t drink and drive carpool.”

  “Is there carpool today?”

  “Yeah, but it’s so late the other moms have driven their kids to school already. I’ll probably get some angry texts while I’m in court today,” Paige said, grinning.

  She hates driving carpool. The ‘mom’ routine has never been her thing and yet, she keeps trying.

  “Thank you for all that you do for the girls,” Ben said. “Most days I don’t even think about the sacrifices you make.”

  Paige tilted her head to the side. “What’s come over you lately?”

  “I’ve just been thinking. Do you remember that night we met in the bar?”

  “Yes, you were very handsome in your uniform. Did you wear it just to pick up women?”

  “I can’t remember exactly, but I think I had it on because we had come straight from a class that was so boring I needed a drink right away.”

  Paige nodded and smiled; she politely humored his walk down memory lane.

  It wasn’t that long ago that her eyes lit up when I came into the room. Why did I have to kill that? Why do I have to destroy every good woman I touch?

  Ben cleared his throat. “Do you remember that dive of a diner we went to afterwards?”

  “Yes, I heard it got torn down by the health department.”

  “The food was awful, but we laughed and talked all night,” Ben smiled.

  I am so stupid. I have the greatest woman in the world in my life and I’m out running around with Ms. White Trash USA. What is my problem?

  “I do remember that, and I remember how you ran over my phone in the parking lot as you pulled away. I’ve never seen a phone crushed like that. You even destroyed the memory card. I lost all of my contacts,” Paige sighed.

  “That’s what you remember?”

  Ben tried not to feel disappointed. He saw that night as magical. He’d never felt that way about anyone before, or since, for that matter.

  “Well, I also remember that you were funny, charming and…” Paige’s cheeks flushed red.

  “And?”

  “And you were hot. I was pretty sure that you’d look amazing naked,” Paige’s cheeks colored.

  Ben laughed. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Paige looked at her watch.

  “You have to get to work,” he said.

  “Yes, it’s really late and you’re going to have to walk the girls into the office and make up some excuse for why they’re late to school.”

  “I’ll tell them I got a flat.” Ben wrapped his arms around Paige’s waist and pulled her in. “I married you because I knew that you would make me want to be a better man. You’re strong in ways that I could only dream of being strong.”

  “Thank you.” Paige rested her wrists on Ben’s shoulders and looked into his eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about the past, and the mistakes I don’t want to repeat. I’m going to be a better husband from here on out.”

  Paige smiled and looked down. Ben lifted her chin.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all. I have to get to the office.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and pulled away.

  Paige picked up her keys and grabbed her briefcase. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she grinned.

  “Good luck with Mrs. Batchman in the office.”

  “Huh?” Ben asked.

  “There’s a reason why the kids swap the ‘a’ in her name for an ‘i’.” Paige chuckled as she walked out.

  Ben stood in the empty kitchen and took a deep breath.

  I am going to be a better husband, because I do love Paige. I love her, and I want my girls to have her for a mom. I don’t need anyone else. I can do this.

  He gathered his things and headed out to the garage. He climbed into the driver’s side of the Jeep. Bianca shot him a dirty look.

  “I’ve missed half of first period,” she said.

  “You missed the first half, so you might as well miss the second half.” Ben looked back at Bev and Billie. “Donut run, anyone?”

  They smiled and cheered. Ben looked at Bianca. “Dunkin’ Donuts it is.”

  As they pulled out of the garage, his phone beeped. Ben glanced at the screen. Beth.

  “Who’s that? Is that Mom? She was going to text you about us coming to visit,” Bianca said.

  “Nope. Not your mom.”

  “Then who is it?”

  “It’s no one. No one at all.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I heard you were on a stakeout on Sunday.” Joan’s tone belied her disapproval. Holding a large plastic binder in her hands, she tapped her manicured nails against the plastic surface.

  “Sunday? What’s today?” Kade sat at his desk, a mountain of paperwork before him. He cringed and rummaged through his desk for something else to do.

  “It’s Tuesday, and don’t try to change the subject.” Joan poked the pile of paperwork on his desk.

  The days just run together at this point. I know that look and a lecture is sure to follow.

  “Who told you?” he asked.

  “Sally at the bakery. She said you b
ought a dozen donuts on Sunday. Everyone knows that you only eat donuts on stakeouts,” Joan answered.

  “You should’ve been a detective, Joan.”

  “You shouldn’t be doing unauthorized stakeouts, Kade.”

  “This one was off the books and on my own time,” he said.

  “We don’t do stakeouts that are off the books, because it’s considered stalking. There are laws against stalking.”

  Kade leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.

  “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

  Joan set the binder down on his desk and leaned forward.

  “I’ve got a lot of years on you, young man, and I’m telling you right now that this road you are going down—it’s not going to lead anywhere good.”

  “Yeah, well, someone needs to go down it.”

  “What do you think you’re going to find?”

  “I think I already found some circumstantial stuff,” he replied. “Where there’s smoke, there’s some a-hole who lit the fire.”

  Joan leaned in and lowered her voice. “Is it enough to get him charged and thrown out of office? Because that’s the only way you’ll keep your job if word of your investigation gets out. Men like that have powerful friends.”

  “I’ve got a lead on something,” he explained, clearing his throat.

  “What’s your lead?” Joan looked doubtful.

  “I told you. It’s better you don’t know.”

  It’s like she can read my mind and see that all I’ve got is a strong suspicion that the mayor is connected to prostitution. He wouldn’t be the first politician to dabble in that world. But suspicion doesn’t equal a conviction. Act confident in your lead or she’ll never leave.

  Kade smiled at Joan, who leaned back, folded her arms across her ample bosom, and stared down her nose at him.

  “Look, I have the situation under control,” he said.

  “No, you don’t, and that’s why you’re going to end up getting fired,” she retorted.

  Joan snatched her binder off his desk, turned on her heel, and walked away before he could protest further. She slammed the door on her way out for good measure.

  Kade waited until she was back at her desk before he pulled out the battered notebook he kept locked in the top drawer of his desk. He’d meant to get to the stakeout journal sooner, but between his stomach and his trip to the cemetery, he was woefully behind on everything. He opened the book and studied his notes.

  Keeping tabs on the mayor had proved to be very simple—he just had to follow him on Twitter. The mayor was young for a politician. He was also considered charming and sophisticated, which made him the most popular mayor the city had ever seen. His constituents clamored to know what was going on in his life and social media gave him the opportunity to control what the public knew, and when they learned it. According to the mayor’s secretary, every single post was carefully contrived in order to keep the public hungry for more.

  Kade had taken the mayor’s secretary, a chubby brunette who liked to talk, on a couple of dates to humor his mother who somehow knew the girl. During their first date, the secretary had explained that she maintained the mayor’s Facebook account, as opposed to his Twitter account, which he personally updated every hour.

  After their last date, Kade created a fake persona on Twitter so he could discreetly follow the mayor. The idea of being online repulsed him; he valued his privacy and anonymity, but he didn’t see any other choice and became Buffy2003. He wasn’t sure who Buffy was, but Paige had really liked her television show. Kade signed up as himself on Facebook because no one would think twice about the sheriff following the mayor.

  After weeks of online stalking, Kade finally got a morsel of information that had potential. On Saturday afternoon, there was a brief post on the mayor’s Facebook page announcing a garden luncheon for a University of Washington sorority, hosted by the mayor at his own home. The agenda was “mentoring youth into politics in order to create the strong leaders of tomorrow”. The event seemed like something that the mayor’s wife would host, so he texted her and asked if she would be home on Sunday. Still recovering at the ‘spa’, she replied that she would not be home until Wednesday. When he went back to the page to confirm the date and time, he discovered the post had been taken down minutes after it appeared.

  Maybe the secretary made a mistake when she posted the event. The mistake would have been easy to make if she’d been perusing the mayor’s calendar, seen it, and decided it would make for good publicity without consulting him first.

  A hunch led Kade to sit outside the gates of the mayor’s house for hours, watching his home through a set of binoculars. Around mid-afternoon, a group of college-age women arrived in a limo. While the girls looked about the right age to belong to a sorority, they were certainly not dressed like co-eds. Each one was dressed in high-end cocktail wear and their hair and make-up were heavy—like what a fashion model would wear. A short time after they entered the house, cars began to pull into the drive. Men who were clearly much too old to be college-aged drove up in one luxury car after another. They were well groomed; some wore suits, while others had a more casual look.

  The party lasted well into the night. Dance music blared from the house. People wandered in and out. Bottles of alcohol were tossed around the yard. At times, the party was so loud that Kade was sure the neighbors would call the police to report the noise disturbance.

  Maybe they did and their calls were ignored. There’s nothing civic about this gathering.

  Kade checked the mayor’s Twitter feed. According to his stream, he was happily visiting the art museum’s latest exhibit.

  What’s he hiding?

  The last of the mayor’s guests left in the wee hours of the following morning. Sick and weak from a bad tamale, Kade was off his game. Barely able to think straight, he only caught a couple of license plate numbers as the cars drove off. He decided that didn’t really matter anyway. Any man there could say he was simply a businessman doing their civic duty.

  At every party, there’s always someone who doesn’t belong.

  Kade watched for someone who stood out from the rest of the group; someone who could give him an indication of what had really been going on in that house. The sun had just come up when Kade spotted her. She was tall, rail-thin, and had black hair. He figured the statuesque woman was of Eastern Indian descent. Her exotic beauty set her apart from the young women that had entered the home earlier. Kade hadn’t seen the woman arrive, but now she was clearly the last to leave. She gave the mayor a side hug, the kind you give to someone you don’t much care for or don’t really know. The mayor tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned away at the last second and he planted a sloppy one on her cheek. The mayor smacked the woman on the butt as she walked away. She paused momentarily before continuing on, as if nothing had happened.

  Through his binoculars, Kade could see contempt on her face as she pulled her lips into a tight line. She slipped into a luxury sedan and roared out of the long driveway just as the gates swung open. He barely managed to get her plate number as she whizzed by. Kade ran the number, but quickly hit a wall. A business and not a person owned the car. He would have dug deeper, but his stomach had other ideas and he was forced to head home to bed.

  Now Kade looked out his office window into the outer area where Joan sat. Her nose was buried in a cheap paperback murder mystery.

  You’d think working with cops that would be the last thing she’d want to read.

  Kade looked at his computer and rubbed his head. Doing research on the computer ranked right up there with filling out paperwork—he was lousy at it and often got frustrated. He considered Joan’s warning, and then picked up the phone and dialed the extension of Blake, a rookie and all-around office nerd.

  “Blake? Get in here and try to look casual about it. I don’t want to draw Joan’s attention.” He hung up before Blake could respond.

  Kade tore a page out of his n
otebook and carefully folded it into thirds. Blake didn’t knock on his door; he walked in with a confused look on his face.

  “Yeah, sheriff?”

  “I’ve got a plate number for you. I ran it, and it led to a corporation. I need to know who owns that corporation and whether they have ties to anyone local.”

  “Why not get Forensics to do that? They can run it really fast.”

  “Because that would require paperwork and a trail of documentation. If anyone asks, you’re looking for the person who sideswiped your mom’s car last week.”

  “My mom’s car got hit?” Blake scratched his head. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Your mom’s car is fine. Just do the search and don’t tell anyone, got it?” Kade’s instructions were terse as he held out the paper.

  Blake appeared to want to ask another question, but Kade motioned for him to use the door. The younger officer took the paper and left. When Blake was gone, Kade took a breath and looked around. The paperwork was nearly done and there were no open cases. He needed a coffee break and knew exactly where to take it. He grabbed his jacket and keys, leaving before Joan could ask where he was going.

  ***

  “Hi Dad,” Kade said.

  His father sat on a stool with a half-eaten bear claw in front of him and a nearly empty cup of coffee.

  A few more minutes and I would have missed the old man altogether.

  “Hello, son. What brings you down here in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “I was hoping you might be able to give me some answers about a case.” Kade sat down on the stool next him.

  A waitress appeared and tried to pour him a cup of coffee. He smiled politely and covered his cup. She shrugged and walked away.

  “I don’t understand.” His father’s hand shook as he sipped his coffee.