“What do you mean? Don’t you know how worried he is? I can’t believe you didn’t call him as soon as you were released last night.”

This time, the quiet at the other end of the line stretches on so long, I start to think we’ve been cut off, but then I hear a sharp intake of breath followed by a sob. “Gloria? What’s going on?”

A small, shaky voice whispers, “I wasn’t released. I’ve been arrested.”

I don’t have to ask for what. “Jesus, Gloria. Did you talk with a lawyer yet?”

“Yes. David sent his lawyer last night, and he referred me to a criminal attorney. A Jamie Sutherland. We meet this morning.”

“So, why call me? You should be talking to David. He’s probably crazy with worry.”

There’s a short, brittle bark of mirthless laughter. “No. He won’t want to talk with me. You haven’t seen the morning paper, have you?”

I’m in the kitchen now, and my eyes go to the front door. I hadn’t bothered to pick up the paper yet, but I do now. The rubber band breaks in my haste to get at the paper and flies up to smack my chin.

“Damn it.”

Gloria starts to whimper. “I know. I know. I’ve been such a fool.”

She thinks I’m cursing her. Good. I shake out the front page and hold it up, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder.

“Oh, fuck.”

This time I am cursing her. The headline blares: “Gloria Estrella Arrested for the Murder of Billionaire Partner.”

In slightly smaller print, the headline continues: “Wife of Rory O’Sullivan Says the Motive Is Love Affair Gone Bad.”

“Love affair, Gloria? I thought you said you slept with him one time.”

This time, when she doesn’t respond, it isn’t such a big surprise.

GLORIA IS SOBBING SOFTLY. I ROLL MY EYES BUT don’t say anything. She sounds scared. For some inexplicable reason, I don’t feel like rubbing it in. I toss the newspaper in the corner and lean against the counter. I’ll give her a minute. Christ. I must be getting soft.

The minute passes. Gloria is still snuffling. Patience has its limits. I don’t intend to spend my morning listening to her spit and sputter into a telephone receiver.

Against all better judgment, I ask, “Why did you want to see me?”

She sucks in a noisy breath. “You need to know what happened between Rory and me. It isn’t what you think.”

“Oh, no? Are you telling me you didn’t have an affair with O’Sullivan?”

She hiccups. “Well, okay, it is what you think, but there were extenuating circumstances.”

This is not getting us anywhere. “You know what? I don’t care. You should be talking to a lawyer. Or a priest.”

“I will talk to the lawyer. First I need to explain it to you. So you can explain it to David.”

“Oh, no. I will not be a go-between. You made this mess, Gloria. You need to clean it up.”

“I’ll hire you.”

“For what?”

“To find out who killed Rory.” She lets a heartbeat go by before blurting, “You can do it. You know things. You have contacts. The police won’t investigate the way you can. They have no reason to. They think I did it. Even Rory’s wife thinks I did it.” She laughs. No mirth in the sound, only bitterness. “She came to see me last night. All Rory’s talk about an open marriage was evidently just that. Talk. As far as Mrs. O’Sullivan was concerned, Rory was an altar boy. She’s going to do all she can to pin this on me. I need someone on my side.”

Boy, she is desperate to think I’d be on her side. “So, let me get this straight, you want me to help David—”

“Not David,” she interjects quickly. “You. David can’t know what you’re doing.”

“And how do you think I can hide this from him? I see him every day, remember?”

Her voice drops. “I don’t think you will.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“David is gone.”

“Gone?”

She makes another gulping sound before exhaling in a noisy rush. “He left town.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t talked to him.”

“I haven’t. He went to police headquarters this morning and left a note for me with a cop he knows. He saw the newspaper. He believes the story. He thinks I called him yesterday because I knew what would happen when the story broke.”

The realization makes my spine stiffen. “You did, didn’t you? You wanted to make it look like you and David were still together. For the press. To refute the affair story.”

She pauses. “Yes.”

That admission is so unexpected, it catches me completely off guard. I don’t know how to respond. This time the silence on the line is my doing, a result of my fevered brain trying to accept that Gloria is actually admitting she fucked up. A brand-new experience.

I feel my resolve start to soften. Not out of sympathy for Gloria, but for David. Poor shmuck. He’s probably off somewhere nursing his wounds. First he thinks he has his girlfriend back, then he finds out she was using him to deflect suspicion if she found herself in this predicament.

Wait a minute.

Why would she think she needed suspicion deflected? Unless . . .

“I asked you this once before, Gloria. Now tell me again. Did you kill Rory?”

“Of course not.”

No hesitation, no heated objection to my asking. An unequivocal denial. I release a breath. “Why drag David into it?”

This time there is a pause. “I told you. I called him because I knew he’d be on my side. Then, when the story broke, if David and I were together, no one would believe Rory and I had—”

“Had what? Been fucking around?”

My first impulse, to tell her what a bitch I think she is, is interrupted by a second possibility. Another flash of inspiration like the one yesterday that had Gloria promising not to talk trash about me to David. This one is even better. I can use Gloria’s desperation to my advantage. I can get rid of her once and for all.

“Okay, Gloria. I’ll come by the jail and see you this morning. If you want my help, there will be conditions.”

“What are they?” The tone is muted, resigned, as if she already knows or suspects what I’m about to say.

“First, you cut David loose. For good. He deserves better.”

“I know.”

“I mean it. No calling him. No sneak visits. If he calls you, you hang up. You don’t answer his messages. You don’t send him a birthday card. He is out of your life.”

“Okay.” Tiny voice.

“Second, I expect to be paid for my services.” I do some quick, mental arithmetic. How much could I soak her for? May as well make the aggravation worth my while. “Two hundred an hour, plus expenses. Starting now.”

“Agreed.”

So quickly? Shit. I should have asked for more. I shrug it off and continue, “Anybody as rich as O’Sullivan will have made enemies along the way. What can you tell me about him?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing? You invested a good chunk of change in that restaurant. You must have checked him out beforehand. Or at least had your lawyer check him out.”

There’s a few seconds of profound silence before that tiny voice comes back. “My lawyer only researched what was pertinent to our deal. I was interested in opening a restaurant, and Rory was there with the funding and the know-how to make it happen.” A bit of a whine creeps into her tone when she adds, “I told you this before.”

“What about when you two were together? What did you talk about?”

“Nothing, really. We’d discuss the restaurant. Furniture. Staff. Business stuff.”

“I mean when you were fucking, Gloria. He ever let anything slip? Ever mention trouble with other business partners or at home?”

The whine morphs into irritation. “We didn’t talk all that much.”

This is getting us nowhere. I glance at my watch. It’s almost eight. “I can be at the jail at ten. When do you see your lawyer?”

“In about fifteen minutes. He’s going to try to set a bail hearing after the arraignment. I’ll either be back here or at home by ten. I’ll let you know.”