Janet thought, Can you believe this guy?

“Yeah, Kenny, old pal, I’m sure Kathleen will say whatever you tell her to say. Listen, I’ve got to run. The wedding’s off. I’ll put the ring in the mail. Do not call me. Do not come near me, or Kimberly, ever again. If you try to contact me in any way, for any reason, I’ll turn Donovan Creed loose on you. Believe me, you don’t want that. Again, if you don’t believe me, ask around.”

The third call Janet made was to her best friend, Amy. She got into it quickly. “Did you know about Ken?”

“Know what, sweetie?”

“Did you know?”

“Uh, you’re kind of weirding me out here, babe. Did I know what?”

Did … you … know?”

Amy was silent a moment. “Oh, honey,” she sighed, “that was such a long time ago. And anyway, there are always two sides, you know?”

“I have a daughter! How could you not tell me?”

“Janet, I’m begging you, think it over before you rush to judgment. Please. Don’t screw this up.”

“Too late.”

“Let’s get together and talk about it.”

“Drop dead.”

CHAPTER 20

It had been two days since Cincinnati, when I’d made the offer about beating her up and Lauren had asked, “Just for the sake of argument, how much would you have paid?” When I told her, she decided to at least hear me out. So I handed her Kathleen Chapman’s police fi le and watched as she reviewed it. She took her time, studied all the photos carefully, read a portion of each page of the police reports. When at last she finished, she’d looked into my eyes and said, “If you know all this about her, and understand her pain, why would you want to physically assault me?”

I shrugged. “It’s not about hurting you. It’s about making my ex-wife happy. Happy in the long run, at least.”

She gave me an encouraging smile and said, “Sugar, you really are pitiful when it comes to explaining yourself to women.”

“That bad, huh?”

“World-class bad,” she said.

She took both my hands in hers and looked into my eyes. She seemed to be searching for something better inside me than what I’d shown her so far.

“You’ll have to explain how beating the shit out of me will make your ex-wife happy,” she said. “It frightens me to think there’s a woman out there who would appreciate that type of gesture, and it makes me wonder why you’d be attracted to her in the first place.”

I nodded and told Lauren I cared a great deal about Janet and Kimberly and wanted only the best for them. I told her I wasn’t interested in taking Ken’s place; I just didn’t want a man like him living in the same house with my family. I told her how horrified I’d been to learn that Janet was planning to marry a habitual wifebeater.

With that preamble out of the way, I explained my plan: Lauren would pretend to be Chapman’s ex-wife, Kathleen, and pretend Chapman had beaten her as a warning to keep her mouth shut about the abuse. I assured Lauren that I was a professional, meaning I would assault her very carefully, going for the maximum effect with the minimum pain. I reiterated there’d be no enjoyment in it for me and that I didn’t go around beating up women on a regular basis—but that I couldn’t think of any other way to discourage Janet from marrying Ken Chapman.

Then I gave her a handful of pain pills and told her if she decided to go through with it, she should take two now and one every four hours for two days. I told her the pills would make her feel so good she’d probably call to thank me for the beating.

“Whoa, cowboy,” Lauren said. “There you go again!”

I looked at her blankly. Then it registered. “Oh, right. Sorry.” I shook my head. “That was a figure of speech about thanking me for the beating. I just meant that the pills are incredibly effective. I really am an idiot with women.”

“I’ve had pain pills before,” she said.

“Not like these,” I said. “They’re laced with something that gives you a feeling of euphoria.”

Then I got out my duffel bag and handed her two bricks of money held together with rubber bands, each of which contained ten thousand dollars. She stared at the money. “It pains me to say this, but let’s see if I can help you save a few bucks. Why not just call Janet and tell her about Chapman? Or better yet, send her this folder and tell her you did a background check on her fiance and this is what turned up.”

“She won’t believe me,” I said. “She knows my people can fabricate legal documents in a matter of hours. We can alter it, falsify it, destroy court records or create published testimony overnight. And don’t forget, she loves the bastard, and he’s persuasive. His last girlfriend still believes Kathleen beat herself up all those years to maintain control in the relationship.”

Lauren was running out of ideas. I knew the feeling. “What if you sent the information anonymously?” she asked.

“Janet would know I did it,” I said, “and she wouldn’t believe it anyway. She really hates me.”

“Honestly, sugar, if this is your best idea, I can see why she might feel that way.” Lauren gestured toward the photos on the bed. “I admit there’s a resemblance,” she said, “but we’re not even close to identical. Really, this whole thing is insane. Even if I agreed to do it, when Janet sees the real photographs, she’ll know I’m not Kathleen.”

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