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“Jane.” He stopped her before she entered the revolving door that led to the lobby of their building.

“Yes, Matt?”

Ever since his phone call she’d been so cool and distant. He wished he could make up the ground that had been lost.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

Her expression softened. “Me, too.”

“And we will do it again. Right?”

She hesitated. “Maybe.”

And then she quickened her pace and disappeared into the building. He watched and wondered what she would have said if he’d told her the truth.

That Gillian thought they’d been having an affair because during one of their arguments he’d admitted that although he wasn’t having an affair with Jane, he was more than halfway to being in love with her.

Chapter Five

ON WEDNESDAY EVENINGS from seven to ten, Gillian taught drama at night school and Matthew went over to her house to take care of the kids. When he and Gillian had split up, Violet had been only two. Much too young, Gillian said, to be away from her mother at night. So while Derrick could spend every second weekend with his father, Matthew was able to see his daughter only on day visits.

The trouble with that was that he never could be the one who helped her with her pj’s, who tucked her in and sang her lullabies. Now she was almost too old for that, which only made the routine all the more precious to him.

Last summer, when Gillian had told him about the teaching opportunity, he’d jumped at the chance to look after the kids on that night. Now, every Wednesday, Matthew was able to be a part of his children’s everyday life. Exactly what he wanted—and missed—the most.

On this Wednesday, Matthew read three of Violet’s favorite books to her, then made her a snack of sliced apples and cheese.

Derrick was out with his friends. According to the note Gillian had left on the kitchen table, he was supposed to be home by eight to do homework. Matthew checked his watch. It was ten to now. He glanced out the front window.

Hurry home, Derrick. He was eager to see his son and discuss the soccer coach situation. He’d been talking his dilemma over with one of the young lawyers on staff, who was also a father with kids who played soccer. Tim had suggested he work out a team coaching arrangement with one of the other parents. That way, if work interfered with a particular game or practice, he’d have some backup.

Matthew wanted to ask his son what he thought about the idea. If Derrick seemed keen—hell, if he seemed mildly supportive—Matthew planned to start working his way through the team phone list to find a coaching partner.

“I’m s’posed to brush my teeth now.” Violet had finished her snack and was gazing up at him with her huge blue eyes.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bathroom.

“I can walk, Daddy. I’m a big girl.” She slithered from his arms and scampered ahead of him. Once there, he helped her to squeeze a tiny bit of paste on her princess toothbrush.

She set to work, brushing vigorously, while with her free hand she held on to his shirt as if to prevent him from going anywhere. He wished she didn’t have to worry, that she would know she could count on him being here whenever she needed him.

During those first months in his own apartment, after he’d moved out of the house he’d shared with his family for thirteen years, the hardest times had been coming home from the office. Every night he would open the door to silence. Only, in his mind, he would hear the sound of running footsteps and little voices calling out, “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”

Derrick had been beyond that stage by the time of the breakup, but not Violet. Matthew remembered setting down his briefcase so he could scoop her into his arms, and the giggles when he placed her on his shoulders and galloped around the dining-room table.

Gillian had claimed he was a workaholic, but there had been happy times, too. He wished that instead of letting his work drive a wedge between Gillian and him, she could have helped him understand how much he was missing.

But blaming Gillian for his obsession wasn’t fair. His father’s untimely death wasn’t responsible for his compulsive work ethic, either. According to his mother, he’d always been an A-type personality.

When he had a job to do, he felt like he was in a tunnel. He couldn’t focus on anything but the deadline in front of him.

His brother Gavin couldn’t understand. But then Gavin was one of those guys born to be a dad. Even though he, too, had a demanding job, as an architect, he’d had no trouble fitting in lots of time with his twin girls.

And Gavin’s life hadn’t been a picnic. First the mother of his girls had deserted them. Then, when the twins were in first grade, one had been killed in an accident on the street.

For the sake of the daughter he still had, Gavin had relocated his small family to New Hampshire, where he was now happily remarried.

Whenever Matthew was in a pinch with his kids, he always asked himself what Gavin would do. Now, as he settled Violet into her bed precisely at eight o’clock and Derrick still hadn’t shown up, he found himself once again wishing for his brother’s wisdom.

Violet had always been a sound sleeper, and her eyes were closed by the time he had her covered. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, then left her room with the door ajar.

The view out the front window was disappointing. No sign of Derrick. He called his son’s cell phone—last year’s Christmas gift—only to be put through to messages.

“It’s after eight, Derrick. You should be home by now. Please call as soon as you get this.”

Matthew riffled through the newspaper, but he couldn’t concentrate. An ad for watches caught his eye. Wasn’t that the same brand Jane wore? He felt a rush of pure sexual desire as he pictured the gold band slipping up and down her slim, elegant wrist.

He imagined pressing a kiss to her wrist, then trailing his mouth along the length of her arm until he reached the delicate skin of her neck. Would she moan? Sigh? How did Jane react when she was aroused?

He stopped the fantasy before it could go further. He had no right thinking of her this way. No right to wish for anything more than the possibility that they could be colleagues again. Friends.

He located the remote control for the television and cruised through the channels, finding nothing that could hold his interest. Resisting the urge to phone Jane, he started to pace.

The door to Gillian’s bedroom was open, and as he walked by, he noticed a pair of men’s shoes on the floor.

He paused. It was none of his business. He knew Gillian had been dating. But was the guy also spending the night?

For Matthew not to go into the bedroom to look around took a lot of willpower. He was especially curious about the master bathroom. Would there be an extra toothbrush in the holder? A razor and some shaving gel?

He didn’t begrudge Gillian a sex life. But what impact would it have on the kids when their mother’s boyfriend showed up at the breakfast table? Violet was too young to think much about it, but Derrick would understand what was going on.

The last thing Matt wanted was to start a fight with Gillian. But he would ask her about this, he decided. Surely he had some rights as a father.

His concern about Gillian’s boyfriend faded, though, as another fifteen minutes went by and Derrick still wasn’t home.

There were some numbers by the phone, and he recognized the names of two of the boys on Derrick’s soccer team. He called both of them, but neither of the mothers who answered had seen Derrick this evening.

Hell. Now what?

Matthew was considering phoning Gavin, or even Nick, whose connections on the police force might be useful right about now, when finally the back door opened.

“Derrick.” Thank God.

His son kicked out of his runners, then headed for the fridge without saying a word, or even glancing in his direction.

Don’t jump to conclusions, Matthew counseled himself. It was what he imagined Gavin’s advice would be if he were here. Keeping his tone calm and reasonable, Matt pointed out to his son, “You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago. Did something happen?”

“I missed the bus.” Derrick poured himself a tall glass of juice.

“You missed the bus,” he repeated. Did Derrick know how lame that sounded? Or perhaps that was the point. “Maybe you should have showed up at the bus stop five minutes earlier.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Matthew couldn’t help it. His anger rose. “At the very least, you could have phoned.” He checked the impulse to say that he’d been worried, that he’d even been thinking about contacting the police.

“The batteries in my phone were dead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Derrick’s eyes met his and they were so full of defiance that Matthew knew he was lying. As if to prove it, his son’s cell phone let out a burst of music, signaling an incoming call.

The chime repeated four times. Derrick ignored it. He was still staring at Matthew as if daring him to do something. Options ran through Matthew’s head, most of them out of the question. He didn’t want his first words to be spoken in anger. He struggled for calm.

One. Two. Three.

“You were supposed to be home by eight, Derrick, and you weren’t. You don’t have a good reason, so there will be consequences.”

Derrick smirked.

Again Matthew had to rein in his temper. “You’re grounded for the rest of the week—and that includes no cell phone.” He held out his hand until his son passed it over. “Plus you won’t see any friends this weekend.”

His words hit their mark. The pressure on his chest eased as uncertainty flickered in Derrick’s eyes.

But a moment later, the arrogance was back. “Fine. Ground me. Mom won’t stop me from going out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Matthew was so disappointed he was practically choking on it. He’d been thinking about the conversation he wanted to have with his son all evening, and none of this had been part of the script.

He cleared his throat. Tried to make a fresh start. “Now, about your soccer situation—”

“If you’re talking about the coach, don’t worry about it. Like you said, the soccer association found us a new one.”

Damn. Could nothing go right for him and Derrick tonight? “Good,” he said weakly. “I guess this means the game on Friday is a go.”

“I guess.” Taking the glass of juice with him, Derrick disappeared into his bedroom.

Matthew groaned with frustration, then picked up the newspaper one more time. He’d read through the business section and sports by the time Gillian arrived home.

She entered through the back door, too, and set down a bag stuffed with what looked like a batch of test papers. She’d taught drama between acting gigs before they were married, but she’d never really loved the work. It was something she did for the extra cash and to get out of the house.

She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes alighting on the plate he’d used for Violet’s snack.

Feeling as if she’d caught him out, Matthew grabbed the plate and stacked it in the dishwasher. “How was class?”

“Not bad. I’ve got a decent group this semester. Some of them even have talent.” She bent over to move Derrick’s sneakers out of the way. “Did Derrick finish his homework?”

Matthew felt his shoulders tense. “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. He wasn’t home until almost nine. He’s been in his room with the door closed since then.”

Gillian rolled her eyes, as if this was nothing new to her. “I wish you would talk to him.”

“I did. I told him he was grounded for the rest of the week.” He remembered the men’s shoes in her room. “By the way, is your boyfriend staying the night now?”

“What?”

“I saw a pair of men’s dress shoes in your bedroom—”

“You were in my bedroom?”

“I was walking past your bedroom.”

“Whose shoes are on my bedroom floor is none of your business, Matt. Or who is in my bed, for that matter.”

“When it comes to my kids—”

“This has nothing to do with Derrick or Violet.”

“I don’t want strange men spending the night.”

“Bruce doesn’t spend the night, okay? He’s a doctor and he works shifts, and sometimes he needs to shower and change after we’ve gone out.”

His ex was dating a doctor. That stopped Matt cold. Of course, he’d assumed that eventually Gillian would move on with her life. But what bothered him was that his kids had a new man—a permanent man—in their lives.

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“That’s not any of your business, either. I don’t ask you for an accounting of your dating life.”

“Well, maybe you should.” Matthew was about to elaborate, when Derrick walked into the room. As earlier, he headed for the fridge.

“Derrick. Your father tells me you were home late.”

“Yeah. He grounded me,” Derrick said, as if it were some kind of joke.

“I don’t understand why you find that so funny.”

Derrick just shrugged and looked at his mother. Then he grabbed a soda from the fridge and left again.

“That kid,” Matthew muttered. “You better watch that he sticks to the grounding I gave him.”

“Really, Matt. And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Tell him to come straight home after school, that’s how.”

“And when he shows up at six, saying he missed the bus? Or at seven because he had to stay late to work on a school project?”

Matthew wondered how long these problems had been going on. “I guess you’ll have to pick him up after school and drive him home.”

“That easy, huh? And what about Violet? Nursery school ends at three-thirty, the same time Derrick gets out of classes. How am I supposed to be in two places at once?”

A movement from the hallway caught Matthew’s attention. He realized their son hadn’t gone to his room, after all. This was the moment of truth. He had to prove to both of them, to Gillian and to Derrick, that he was serious.

“Then I’ll pick him up.” He made his way to the front door, pulling his car keys from his pocket. When he passed his son, he patted his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Derrick.”

As he let himself out, he heard him mutter, “I’ll bet.”

JANE HAD GONE FROM NEVER being around Matthew Gray at all, to running into him several times a day, and it was proving to be hell on her composure. Midafternoon on Thursday she went down to the Cookie Tray, a kiosk next to the deli, hoping a heavy hit of sugar would help her through to dinner. Matthew was in the line ahead of her. All he ordered was black coffee.

“I admire your willpower,” she said as she stepped up beside him. “Two cookies for me, please. And a large coffee with room for cream.”

“How you stay so slim with that cookie addiction…” He shook his head.

“It’s my new health club membership.”

“You said you only use it for the hot tub and the sauna.”

She shrugged. “Blame job stress, then.”

“Speaking of which, have you got a minute?”

She checked the time. “Maybe two.”

“Let’s grab a table. We need to talk.”

He had no idea, she was sure, how his words filled her with anticipation.

Undoubtedly, he wanted to discuss work, but the reason didn’t matter. Just being around him was enough. Since they’d been assigned the Keller case, he’d been in her thoughts more than ever.

Did he feel the same way? She doubted it. He appeared calm and slightly distracted as he held a chair out for her, then settled himself across the table.

“How’s your schedule for the rest of the day?” he asked.

The glasses that made him look scholarly were in the front pocket of his suit jacket right now. Without them he seemed…not sexier, but more approachable. She expected him to smile at her with easy familiarity, but instead he pulled out his BlackBerry and started pressing buttons.

She wished she had her cell phone to hide behind. Since she didn’t, she focused on the white plastic lid on her coffee cup. The small opening was smeared with lipstick. She’d forgotten she’d applied the dark red shade this morning. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Then I’m free. Why?”

“I thought it would be good to get Keller’s wife’s input this afternoon. Catch her alone while her husband’s at work and the kids are at school.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the lead on this case?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

“Besides, shouldn’t we wait until charges are laid before we put too much time into this?”

“Normally, yes. But I have a feeling that in this instance being prepared will pay off. Especially if we need to check into Keller’s history in Maine.”

“I was thinking of doing exactly that,” she admitted. “I’m not saying he’s lying. But I got the feeling he didn’t tell us the whole story behind his move.”

“Agreed. If he’s keeping some kind of secret, we’ll be better off knowing sooner rather than later. Which is why I’d like to hear Leslie’s side of this.”

Jane considered his comment. They rarely put much time on the docket before charges were brought. But Russell had asked them to pay special attention to this case. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to his wife. Did you want to come along?”

“I’d like to but I can’t. I’m off to court now, then I’m driving to Mountain View Academy for three-thirty.”

He didn’t usually pick his kids up from school. And he seemed worried about something. “Is Derrick in trouble?”

“He was late home last night, so I grounded him.”

“Sorry to hear that.” In the past Matthew had been proud of his son’s good grades and positive attitude. Was typical teenage angst causing these new problems? Or was this yet another repercussion of Matthew and Gillian’s divorce?

“Yeah. It’s a worry, all right. Not to mention a damn inconvenience. The drive to and from West Hartford will cut my afternoon in half.”

“If it’s Leslie Keller you’re worried about, don’t be. I can handle that interview on my own.”

“Thanks, Jane.” Matthew tucked away his BlackBerry and stood. “I’d better get to court now. Fill me in later, okay?”

“I will.” Before going back to the office, Jane wanted to get some breath mints. She went to the small convenience store at the far corner of the office tower and selected a roll of peppermints. On her way to the till, she noticed her reflection in one of the security mirrors angled on the ceiling.

Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were shining like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked out by the grade twelve quarterback.

She was a professional, for heaven’s sake, yet she’d never felt less like one. She had to get a grip on herself. If she couldn’t learn to work with Matthew Gray, to treat him like any of her other legal colleagues…

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone deliberately stepped up to the counter beside her.

“Jane, I’m so glad I’ve bumped into you,” said Eve Brandstrom. “We need to have a little chat.”

Chapter Six

WITHOUT QUESTION, Eve, in her designer suits and impossibly high heels, was the most stylish lawyer in the firm. She had an attitude to match—confident, poised and polished. Just her presence could sway a jury, and despite their years of working together, Jane felt a little intimidated by the older woman as she subjected her to a frank appraisal.

“Are you feeling all right, Jane?”

“I’m fine.” She fumbled in her purse for money, then dropped it on the counter in exchange for the mints.

“I assume you were just talking to Matthew.”

“Did you run into him in the lobby?”

“I didn’t need to. Your expression is…revealing.”

Jane’s hand trembled as she tucked the package of mints into her purse. “Thank you,” she said to the clerk. Eve followed her out of the store, then pointed out a bench situated in a corner of the lobby.

“Why don’t we sit and chat for a minute.”

“I have a meeting—”

“This won’t take long. And it’s important.”

Feeling cornered, Jane followed her mentor to the bench and sat reluctantly on the edge of it. Eve settled back in her seat, crossed one leg over the other, then smiled.

Jane allowed herself to relax slightly.

“You know, Jane,” Eve began, her tone confiding, “when I was a little girl and told my father that I wanted to be a lawyer and work at his firm one day, he didn’t approve. He said it was too distracting for men to have women at the office.”

“That’s an old-fashioned viewpoint.” Jane was willing to bet Eve’s father hadn’t objected to female receptionists and secretaries.

“I know. But at the time it was the prevailing one.” Eve leaned a little closer. “In all the years I’ve worked at Brandstrom and Norton I’ve made it a point to prove my father wrong. To show that a woman can work with men without letting her emotions—or her sex drive—get in the way.”

“I appreciate that, Eve. But are you suggesting that I haven’t done the same?”

Eve sighed. “We’re friends as well as coworkers, so maybe we should stop pussyfooting around the subject. Did your…relationship…with Matthew have anything to do with his divorce?”

“Of course it didn’t.”

“Don’t forget, I was in the restaurant that day. I heard every word Gillian said.”

“His marriage was already on the rocks. I was the scapegoat.” Matthew had reassured her on that point, for which she was very grateful. “Despite what Gillian thought, Matt and I were having a business lunch.”

Eve’s dark eyes were piercing, but Jane didn’t blink as she stared the other woman down. Finally, Eve let out a long breath. “Okay. I’m glad you told me that. I’d hate to see personal issues between the partners mess up the great working atmosphere we have at the firm.”

“I understand.”

“Especially where you’re concerned,” Eve continued. “You know I’ve always taken a great interest in your career. You have an excellent legal mind and an impressive presence in a courtroom. In many ways, you remind me of myself in my younger days.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Eve. I love working at Brandstrom and Norton.”

“That’s good to hear.” The older lawyer stood. “I won’t hold you up any longer. I myself have an engagement I’m running late for.”

They split off, going in separate directions. That went well, Jane told herself as she made her way to the elevators.

But if that was true, why was her finger shaking so badly she could hardly press the up button?

AN HOUR LATER, on the drive to the Keller residence, Jane rehashed her earlier conversation with Eve and tried to reason out why she’d found it so upsetting. In her own way, Eve was being as sexist as her father. But Jane had to admit that what disturbed her the most was knowing Eve had been absolutely right about her suspicions.

Maybe not technically. Jane and Matt had never had an affair. Heck, they’d never even touched each other inappropriately.

But she did have feelings for him. Feelings that just didn’t belong at work. Never in a million years would Jane have chosen to fall for a colleague. Yet that was exactly what had happened.

She was crazy about Matthew. For over a year she’d struggled with these feelings. She’d tried denial. She’d tried avoidance. So far nothing had succeeded.

Now what?

Work harder, Jane. Bury all your personal desires and disappointments and focus on your clients.

Maybe this wasn’t the best course of action in the world. But it had gotten her through other rough patches in her life. Difficult breakups. The long illness and death of her mother. Then her dad’s remarriage and abrupt disappearance from her life.

Following the instructions on her GPS, Jane ended up in front of a pleasant family home in the same neighborhood where Matthew’s family lived. She parked on the street, then paused to mentally prepare for meeting Mrs. Keller.

Wally and Leslie Keller had been married for fifteen years. They’d moved to West Hartford from Maine last August, and had a son, Daniel, who was thirteen, and a daughter, Emily, who was eight.

Mrs. Keller did not work outside the home, and Jane hoped to be lucky enough to find the coach’s wife in this afternoon. She hadn’t wanted to phone ahead, as that would have given the woman too much time to think and worry…and possibly invent stories.

Jane stepped out of her car and assessed the neighborhood. The Kellers’ house didn’t stand out from the others on the block in any way. The lawn needed mowing, but so did several of the neighbors’. She made her way to the front door, where she halted to listen before knocking.

Though the front window was open, all she heard was silence. If Leslie Keller was home, she wasn’t listening to music or watching television.

Jane rapped on the door and waited what seemed a long time. Finally, the door was opened cautiously. A woman peered out as if expecting the worst. She eyed Jane nervously.

“Mrs. Keller?” she asked. When the woman nodded, Jane introduced herself. “I’m Jane Prentice from Brandstrom and Norton. Your husband recently retained—”

“Yes, yes, come in.” Leslie Keller opened the door wider, then closed it swiftly once Jane was inside. Wally’s wife was shorter than Jane by several inches. Her hair was combed but not styled, and she was dressed for housework.

Jane noticed the vacuum cleaner plugged in and waiting in the center of the adjoining living room. But it hadn’t been on when she’d knocked at the door.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Keller, but I was hoping you could spare me a few moments to discuss your husband’s case.”

The woman’s cheeks paled, but she nodded. “Yes. Please sit down. Can I get you something to drink? I could make coffee.”

Sensing the woman would calm down if given something to do, Jane nodded. “Coffee would be wonderful.”

“Let’s sit in the kitchen.”

Jane followed her down the hall to the back of the house. The fridge was covered with a huge calendar filled with family commitments. “Soccer practice” and “Soccer game” figured prominently in many of the squares.

As Jane had guessed, Leslie Keller visibly relaxed as she set about the familiar routine of starting coffee to brew.

“How do you like your new house?” Jane inquired, settling on a stool across from the sink.

“It’s lovely. Bigger than what we had in Bangor.”

“And the neighborhood?”

The corners of Leslie Keller’s mouth tightened again. “Our neighbors were welcoming when we first moved in. The kids had no problem making friends.”

“But things have changed in the past week?”

“They definitely have. No one talks to Wally or me anymore. It’s like we’re invisible. You’d think someone would call. Offer some support. But we’re new around here, and the Boutin children were born in this community. I guess I’m not surprised who people would choose to believe.”

“It must be difficult.”

Tears sprang to Mrs. Keller’s small, tired eyes. “Especially for the children. Emily came home yesterday to tell us that all the girls in her class had been invited to a classmate’s birthday party except her.”

“I’m sorry. Kids can be very unkind and thoughtless.”

“The birthday girl’s mother is the one who addressed the invitations,” Mrs. Keller pointed out.

“How about Daniel? Is he still playing soccer?”

“He doesn’t want to, but his father is making him. I don’t think it’s fair. It’s difficult enough for Daniel at school.”

Jane sensed there was more to this. “Has there been any trouble?”

“Daniel’s teacher phoned me yesterday. Daniel was overheard threatening to punch out one of the boys in his class.” She threw up her hands. “Daniel’s never been violent. Yet he admitted he said it. And that he was ready to do it. His father asked him why, but he wouldn’t say. Of course we know. That boy must have said something about Wally.”

Jane readied her notebook and pen. “Do you have the name of this boy?”

“The teacher didn’t mention his last name, but his first name is Derrick.”

Jane froze. Then copied down the name, even though she wouldn’t forget it. Could this be Matthew’s son? Surely not.

On the counter, the coffeepot had finished dripping, but Leslie Keller paid no attention to the full carafe. She sank onto the stool next to Jane’s, and her entire body seemed to cave in on itself.

“We never should have moved here.”

Jane waited a beat before asking, “Why did you?”

After a hesitation the other woman said, “Because of Wally’s work. He was offered a new opportunity with the company. The promotion was too good to pass up.”

The explanation sounded smooth, almost pat. But Leslie hadn’t maintained eye contact as she delivered it. “Was there another reason your family wanted to leave Maine?”

Leslie Keller seemed to be weighing options. Jane smiled sympathetically, hoping she would trust her. But all Mrs. Keller did was shake her head. “We moved for Wally’s work. It was a smart career decision.”

Jane used the probing expression that she usually reserved for the witness stand. “I hope you’re being completely open with me, Mrs. Keller. Remember, I’m on your side. The police won’t be.”

The woman’s face grew pinched at the mention of the police, but she didn’t back down. “My husband is innocent, which means that girl is lying. Wally would never hurt a little girl. We have a daughter…Emily is only eight. How could anyone think Wally would do something like that?”

Jane had no answer to offer.

“You have to talk to Sarah Boutin,” Leslie begged. “Explain to her how serious this is. She’ll ruin our lives if she doesn’t tell the truth.”

“We can’t speak to Sarah yet, Mrs. Keller,” Jane explained. “If the police do bring a case against your husband, we will have full access to the evidence against him then.”

“So now we just sit and wait?”

“Mostly, yes. But the police won’t. You can be certain that even now they are investigating not only your husband’s past, but yours, too, and your children’s. If there were any problems or conflicts, they’ll surface.”