“How long before?”
“Before?”
“How long before you married Walton Weeks did you divorce your first husband?”
“Oh God, I don’t remember, a long time.”
“You were granted a divorce,” Jesse said, “in Las Vegas on August fifteenth, 1990, after six weeks of residency.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lorrie said. “Why are you asking me these things and trying to trick me?”
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H I G H P R O F I L E
“Trying to give you a chance to be honest,” Jesse said.
“What was your first husband’s name?”
Lorrie stood suddenly and stood in front of Jesse with her hands on her hips and leaned slightly toward him.
“Conrad Lutz,” she said. “Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I was married to Conrad Lutz.”
Rosa Sanchez turned from the view and folded her arms and looked at Lorrie. Suit continued to make notes.
“Which is how you met Walton Weeks,” Jesse said.
“So?”
“Tell me about that?” Jesse said.
“There’s nothing to tell. Conrad and I were at the end of our relationship, and Walton and I were just beginning.”
“Did they overlap?”
“It happens,” Lorrie said.
“How did Conrad feel about it.”
Lorrie said, “He knew we were done.”
“So it wasn’t Weeks that broke up the marriage?”
“No.”
“What did?”
“Why do you care?” Lorrie said.
Jesse smiled.
“Advanced investigative technique,” he said. “Just covering all the bases.”
Lorrie nodded.
“So what broke up your first marriage?” Jesse said.
“Boredom, I suppose . . . and . . .” Lorrie stopped.
“And?”
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