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What the hell was he thinking of, not telling me anything? Here I was just offered a job in D.C. and the first thing I think of is talking to him about it.
Weeks?
So that's why he hadn't picked up the phone but used the coward's hideout of voicemail.
But the first rule of law enforcement was not to make assumptions. "Are you sure? You couldn't have misunderstood?"
"No, no. He was alone, in the back by the pool. He thought I couldn't hear. And when Wes stepped out, he changed the subject completely. He basically hung up on the broker."
Dance could say nothing for a moment.
"I'm sorry, honey."
"Yeah. Thanks, Mom. Just need to think about this a little."
"You get some sleep now. The kids are happy. We had a fun dinner. They love camp." She tried to be light. "And more important, can you believe it? They're looking forward to school. We're going book bag shopping tomorrow."
"Thanks. 'Night."
"I'm sorry, Katie. 'Night."
A moment later Dance found she was still holding her phone, disconnected, in front of her face. She lowered it.
The loss of her husband was like a digital event to Kathryn Dance, as Jon Boling the computer genius would describe it. On or off. Yes or no. Alive or dead.
But Jon Boling's leaving? It was analog. It was maybe. It was partly. Was he now in her life or not?
The big problem, though, was that he'd made this decision without her. It didn't matter that the job had probably happened quickly and he'd had to move fast.
Dammit, she was a part of his life. He should have said something.
She recalled that Edwin Sharp had referred to a song o
f Kayleigh's at the restaurant yesterday. "Mr. Tomorrow." It was about an abusive, straying man who swears he'll get his act together and mend his ways. He promises he'll change. Of course, the listener knows he never will.
As Dance lay in bed now, the lights out, she stared at the ceiling and that song looped through her mind until she fell asleep.
You know me by now, you've got to believe
You're the number-one girl in the world for me.
I've sent her the papers and she's promised to sign
It'll just be a while, these things take some time....
And his words are so smooth and his eyes look so sad.
Can't she be patient, it won't be so bad?
But sometimes she thinks, falling under his sway,
She got Mr. Tomorrow; she wants Mr. Today.
Chapter 32
DANCE WAS IN the sheriff's office with P. K. Madigan and Dennis Harutyun.
There was another law enforcement jurisdiction present too: Monterey County.
