Jennifer Morey

Cold Case Manhunt


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an affair.”

      “He has a good bedside manner.” A man like that could fool a lot of women.

      “But I can see how it could happen. I know how it can happen.”

      She turned her head and looked out the window, putting her hand to her mouth. He could feel her tension.

      “What do you mean you know?” He began to get a bad feeling about this. Did she have something else she’d kept hidden, like the good doctor had?

      “Before my husband was killed...”

      He predicted what she would say and everything in him went rigid.

      “Let me guess...you had an affair.” Just when he thought he’d connected with another woman she turned around and revealed she was no different from his ex-wife. That’s why he didn’t date much. He didn’t trust women. He preferred to have solid confidence that his significant other wasn’t the type to sneak around with other men.

      She looked at him. “It’s not what you think.”

      He yanked the gear into Reverse and backed out onto the street. “It never is.”

      “Why are you so mad?”

      “Thanks for being so honest. I do appreciate that.” He couldn’t help snapping at her as he drove down the street.

      “Wha—How dare you!”

      “How dare I? You’re the one who cheated on her husband right before he got himself shot to death. Did he know?”

      Her mouth had dropped open.

      “Did he?”

      “No.”

      What was that old saying? Once a cheater, always a cheater? Cal would be sure to steer wide and clear of this one.

      “I didn’t cheat,” she said. “Not really.”

      He wanted to ask her what her definition of “not really” was. “Did you kiss him?”

      Her lack of reply gave him the answer he needed.

      “Why are you so mad? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

      “That’s exactly what my wife said when I read her text messages with another man.”

      “Ah.” Jaslene nodded. “That’s why you were divorced. Your wife cheated and now you think every woman is the same.”

      “Not every woman. Only the ones who cheat.”

      She gaped at him again. He could feel her anger and outrage and wondered why. How could she find herself faultless?

      “You don’t even know what happened.”

      He didn’t need to.

      “My wife tried to tell me her excuses, too. I didn’t want to hear any details. After I found the texts, I followed her. What I saw with my own eyes was plenty.”

      “You saw them...naked?”

      “No. I saw them start to get undressed in a bedroom. His bedroom. When I confronted her later, she denied it until I threw the text messages in her face and told her I saw her. Then she admitted it. I left and filed for a divorce the next day.”

      “Wow. You are bitter.”

      “Wouldn’t you be?” Cal didn’t even like thinking his ex-wife’s name. She was just his past now.

      After several seconds she said quietly, “Yes.” And then after additional seconds, she added, “But I wouldn’t be so quick to judge others who once found themselves in awkward situations.”

      He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to hear her side of the story. The only side he’d like to hear was her husband’s, but he was dead and didn’t even know his wife had been unfaithful. Still, there was something in the way she’d said she hadn’t done anything wrong. Did she mean because she hadn’t slept with another man, only kissed him? He didn’t care. She’d said it herself: she’d found herself in an awkward situation and didn’t have enough respect for the man she married to stop things from escalating. Bitter? Oh, yeah. He was bitter, all right. Every time he met a woman like Jaslene, someone he might be able to get intimate with, he was reminded of the pain he had suffered.

      Cal had made himself a promise that if he ever found another woman, he could trust he’d be sure of two things. One, she would need to handle his work schedule; and two, he wouldn’t choose someone who would ever cheat. He’d stay true to that promise. He’d rather be alone than risk that kind of betrayal again. Funny, before he’d caught his former wife with another man, he never imagined how much it would bother him. He supposed no one did...until it happened to them.

      That’s what Jaslene didn’t understand. She didn’t realize the consequences of immoral, disrespectful decisions, what they did to those closest, to the one they married and once claimed to love.

      Cal had realized something about himself, thanks to his ex-wife. Honor and integrity, the truth, were far more important to him than love. These feelings of attraction he had for Jaslene had to stop. He could never get involved with a woman like her.

       Chapter 3

      The next day, Jaslene put one harness boot down onto the slushy pavement and alighted from Cal’s SUV. She couldn’t look at him without anger flaring. She didn’t tell him what happened in her awkward situation because he had labeled her without having the facts.

      “I’ll be back in about an hour,” he said.

      She turned back to see his handsome face, dark hair neatly trimmed and blue eyes glowing even on this dreary day. Irritation joined her temper. Why on earth was he still so attractive to her?

      “Okay.” She hated how attracted she was to him, a man who was so quick to judge.

      Shutting the door harder than necessary, she ducked her head from the spitting snow and hurried into Pinocchio’s. The hostess led her to where Catherine and Tatum already sat at a tall bistro table along the front window.

      “Sorry I’m late.” She sat on a chair next to the window, feeling a chill radiating through the glass.

      “Who’s the hottie?” Tatum asked, as Cal pulled out into a break in traffic, windshield wipers swiping big snowflakes clear.

      Jaslene watched him disappear up the road, his profile blurred by moisture on the windows of the car and the restaurant, but still managing to imprint on her brain.

      “Detective Chelsey,” she said tersely, hanging her purse on the back of the chair.

      “The detective you’ve been complaining about?” Catherine asked.

      Jaslene shrugged out of her long black jacket and let it fall over the back of the chair, wishing they wouldn’t go there.

      “You’re kind of edgy,” Tatum said. “Is he still going nowhere with the case?”

      “He dropped her off for lunch,” Catherine pointed out. “They’ve been getting close.”

      Tatum observed Jaslene, scrutinizing her. “Have you?”

      “You look nice today,” Catherine said.

      “She does,” Tatum added.

      “Would you two stop?” Jaslene had worn a long black sweater over heavy tights, nothing sexy but she wouldn’t admit she’d taken more care getting ready today than she usually did. She wanted to make Cal squirm somehow for the things he had said to her.

      “What happened to you?” Catherine asked with a sly smile.

      “Nothing. What do you mean?”

      “You haven’t