“How young did he like them?” Jesse said.
“Sometimes maybe too young,” Ellen said. “I don’t know. If that’s the only time he was caught, he’s very lucky.”
“Girl was Bonnie Faison, she was nineteen,” Jesse said.
“Mean anything to you?”
“No. But I wasn’t with him by then. He was Stephanie’s problem in 1987.”
“Did he fool around when he was with you.”
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“Jesse,” she said. “He could no more not fool around than he could not breathe. I don’t think it was really a choice for him.”
“So you assume he fooled around when he was with Stephanie?”
“Of course.”
“And Lorrie?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know Carey Longley?” Jesse said.
“The woman who died with him?”
“Yes.”
“No, but I can describe her. Quite young. Quite pretty. Quite amazed to be with a man like Walton.”
“She was young and pretty,” Jesse said.
“I’ve known a hundred of her,” Ellen said.
“She was also ten weeks pregnant,” Jesse said.
Ellen sat silently for a moment.
“With Walton’s child?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Ellen said, “my God.”
Jesse waited. As he watched, Ellen Migliore teared up.
“How awful,” she said. “To come so close, to finally come so close . . .”
“He wanted children?”
“Terribly,” she said. “At least during our time.”
“And you never had any.”
“No,” she said.
“Do you know why?”
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