Twisted: The Collected Short Stories of Jeffery Deaver

between leaving the church and arriving at Starbucks. That means you had to have the gun with you in church. And that's right next to the Sunday school.' The prosecutor summarized, 'You admitted under oath that you broke section eighteen thirty-one. This transcript's admissible at your next trial. That means it's virtually an automatic conviction.'

Hartman said, 'All right, all right. Let me pay the fine and get the hell out of here. I'll do it now.'

Tribow looked at his lawyer. 'You want to tell him the other part of eighteen point thirty-one?'

His lawyer shook his head. 'It's a do-time felony, Ray.'

'What the hell's that?'

'It carries mandatory prison time. Minimum six months, maximum five years.'

'What?' Terror blossomed in the killer's eyes. 'But I can't go to prison.' He turned to his lawyer, grabbing his arm. 'I told you that. They'll kill me there. I can't! Do something, earn your goddamn fee for a change, you lazy bastard!'

But the lawyer pulled the man's hand off. 'You know what, Ray? Why don't you tell your story to your new lawyer. I'm in the market for a better grade of client.' The man turned and walked out through the swinging doors.

'Wait!'

The detective and two other officers escorted Hartman away, shouting his protests.

After some congratulations from the police officers and spectators, Tribow and his team returned to the prosecution table and began organizing books and papers and laptops. There was a huge amount of material to pack up; the law, after all, is nothing more or less than words.

'Hey, boss, sleight of hand,' Chuck Wu said. 'You got him focusing on that game and he didn't think about the gun.'

'Yeah, we thought you'd gone off the deep end,' Viamonte offered.

'But we weren't going to say anything,' Wu said.

Viamonte said, 'Hey, let's go celebrate.'

Tribow declined. He hadn't spent much time with his wife and son lately and he was desperate to get home to them. He finished packing up the big litigation bags.

'Thank you,' a woman's voice said. Tribow turned to see Jose Valdez's widow standing in front of him. He nodded. She seemed to be casting about for something else to say but then she just shook the prosecutor's hand and she and an older woman walked out of the nearly empty courtroom.

Tribow watched her leave.

I guess people like that, really bad people, they don't play by the rules. And there's nothing you can do about it. Sometimes they're just going to win…

But that means sometimes they're not.

Danny Tribow hefted the largest of the litigation bags and together the three prosecutors left the courtroom.

The Blank Card

The little things.

Like the way she'd leave the office at five but sometimes not get home until six-twenty.

He knew his wife was a fast driver and could make the trip in maybe forty minutes that time of day. So where did she spend the remaining minutes?

And little things like the phone calls.

He'd come home and find Mary on the phone and, sure, she'd smile at him and blow him a little kiss-across- the-room. But it seemed that the tone of her voice would change as soon as she saw him and she'd hang up soon after. So Dennis would go to take a shower and pretend to forget a clean towel and call for Mary to get one for him, please, honey, and when she disappeared into the laundry room he'd go into the kitchen and debate a minute or so but then he'd go ahead and hit redial on the phone. And sometimes it turned out to be a neighbor or Mary's mother. But sometimes nobody picked up. He remembered seeing in a movie once, about spies or something, one guy would call this other one and they'd let it ring twice then call back exactly one minute later and he knew it was safe to pick up. Dennis tried to figure out the numbers from the sound of the dialing but they went too fast.

He'd be embarrassed because he was acting so paranoid. But then there'd be another little thing, and he'd get suspicious again. Like the wine. Sometimes he'd meet his wife at the door of their spacious Colonial in Westchester County, after she'd been out; he'd walk up to her fast and kiss her hard. She'd act surprised, all the passion and everything. But occasionally he'd smelled wine on her breath. She'd claim she'd been at a church fund- raising meeting at Patty's or Kit's. But do you drink wine at church meetings? Dennis Linden didn't think so.

Dennis's suspicions of his wife smacked of midlife crisis. But they also made some sense. He was too generous — that was his problem — and the women he'd ended up with in his life had taken advantage of him. He never thought it would be that way with Mary, a sharp, ambitious businesswoman in her own right, but not long after they'd been married, five years ago, he'd started to wonder about her. Nothing big, just being cautious. Sometimes in life you have to be smart.

But he hadn't really found any proof until about three months ago, in late September — after Dennis had met his best buddy, Sid Farnsworth, for drinks in White Plains.

'I don't know, I have this feeling she's seeing somebody,' Dennis had muttered, hunched over his V&T.

'Who? Mary?' Sid had shook his head. 'You're nuts. She loves you.' The men had known each other since college and Sid was one of the few people who'd be completely straight with Dennis.

'She made this big deal out of going on a business trip to San Francisco last week.'

'Whatta you mean, made a big deal? She didn't want to go?'

'No, she did want to go. But I wasn't sure it was a good idea.'

'You thought it wasn't a good idea?' Sid hadn't understood. 'Whatta you mean?'

'I was worried she'd get into trouble.'

'Why you think that?'

' 'Cause she's a beautiful woman, why else? Everybody's always flirting with her and coming on to her.'

'Mary?' Sid had laughed. 'Gimme a break. Guys flirt with women. If they don't they're gay or dead. But she doesn't flirt back or anything. She's just… nice. She smiles at everybody.'

'Men take it the wrong way and then, bang, it could be a problem. I told her I didn't want her to go.'

Sid had sipped his beer, cautiously eyeing his friend. 'Listen, Denny, you just can't tell your wife you're not going to let her do something. That's bad form, man.'

'I know, I know. I didn't go that far. Just kind of said I didn't want her to. And she got all upset. Why'd she have to go? Why was it so important?'

'Duh… 'cause she's a senior marketing manager and she needed to go on the trip?' Sid asked sarcastically.

'Except she doesn't cover the West Coast.'

'My company has its conferences all over the country, Den. So does yours. Has nothing to do with territory… You thought she was going to meet somebody? A lover or something?'

'I guess. Yeah, that's what I was worried about.'

'Get real.'

'I called the hotel every night. Couple times she was out until eleven or so.'

Sid had rolled his eyes. 'What, she's got a curfew? It was a business trip, for Christ's sake. When you're away, how late do you stay out?'

'That's different.'

'Oh, yeah, right. Different. So why do you think she's cheating on you?'

Dennis had said, 'Just a feeling, I guess. I mean, I don't know why she would. Look at me. I'm only forty-five. I'm in great shape — check out this gut. Solid as a board. Not a single gray hair. I bring home a good paycheck. I