Page 32

You Don’t Say

Brenda was savoring a cup of freshly brewed coffee and checking her email at their kitchen table. She had her husband’s mug ready across from her, with the sugar bowl beside it.

Brenda sipped her coffee. “Any word from the wives?”

The bagel Brenda had put in the toaster for him popped. Hector slathered a pad of butter around the holes. “I spoke to Pam at the funeral. They’re waiting on the insurance money. They didn’t know about Presumptive Death Waivers.”

Brenda nodded. “See. I told you it pays to watch Law & Order reruns.”

In the middle of pondering the best way to take care of the husbands, and mindful of the wives’ need for bodies, Hector and Brenda had been curled up on the sofa late one night, and providentially, those waivers had been a pivotal plot point in the middle of the show’s rerun marathon. A widow had argued to Sam Waterston she wouldn’t possibly have blown up her husband’s Cessna airplane—she had cancer and was only expected to live five more years, tops. She had no motive because she couldn’t claim his insurance for seven years, and she’d be dead by then. But Detectives Briscoe and Curtis had checked her computer’s search history and found she’d looked up Presumptive Death Waivers. She was nailed. The next day Brenda had searched their own state laws, and Hector had his plan.

“How patient will you be?”

“I have to give them a bit more time. Normally I wouldn’t, but what am I going to do? I can’t get blood from a stone, and their ship is coming in.”

He shook his head. “That’s what I like about English. You have a silly saying for everything.” He pulled out the chair, sat down, and raised his mug to Brenda. “Congratulations on your first week at the new job. You stayed late last night. Everything okay?”

She touched her mug back. “Hec-toro.”

Brenda looked like the cat who ate the canary. Yet another English expression that made no sense. She set her mug down and leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

Hector raised his eyebrows and bit into his bagel.

“We got new slot machines, and now Padma suspects someone was using the old ones to rip off the casino. She thinks it might have been going on since they got those machines four years ago.”

Hector swallowed and sat back in his chair. “You don’t say.”

“I do say.”

“And . . .”

“And she thinks it might have been your husbands.”

Brenda raised her eyebrows back.

“You don’t say.”

Hector took another bite.

“And I bet the wives were in on it. And they were fighting over that money. And I bet that’s the real reason the wives wanted the husbands dead.”

Brenda sat back and crossed her arms. “To get the casino money.”

Hector chewed a moment, then shook his head. “If the wives had the money, they’d have paid me already.”

“Maybe they don’t have it yet. I said, ‘fighting over it.’ Think about it. They’re all hiring you right about the same time Padma changes out the old slot machines for new ones. Don’t you think that’s a strange coincidence?”

“Maybe.”

Hector pushed the stray sesame seeds into a little pile with his fingertip. “But even if the husbands did pull something off, that doesn’t mean the wives know about it.”

“Of course the wives know about it. What kind of marriages would they have if they didn’t?”

Hector split the pile of sesame seeds into two smaller ones. “The kind of marriages where wives hire someone to kill their husbands, and husbands hire someone to kill their wives.”

“Oh. That kind.”

Brenda smiled and then sipped her coffee. “Well, in fairness, maybe the husbands didn’t know it was their wives who were after them.”

Hector frowned and squinched an eye.

Brenda studied him a moment and then put her mug down. “Did Hank ever say why someone was after them?”

Hector looked at his wife and lowered his chin.

She put her hand up. “I know. I know. Some things we don’t want to know.”

She looked out the window and then back to her husband. “I know you say that, but I don’t think you mean it. I think you always want to know.”

Hector shrugged.

Brenda looked into her mug and then up into Hector’s eyes. “I think you just say that to shield me from nasty things.”

She wasn’t wrong. Hector took another bite of his bagel. “Things?”

“Yes, things. And you know, you don’t have to protect me.”

Hector chuckled. “You should run that by your father.”

Brenda smiled. “Point taken. But I mean, I know you don’t take every job you’re offered. I think you only go after bad people.”

“I just figure forgiveness is between them and God . . . My job is to arrange the meeting.”

A furrow appeared between Brenda’s eyebrows, and then she smiled. “Oh my God. Denzel Washington. Man on Fire.”

“Best movie ever.”

“Agreed. Well, I’m not sure who needs forgiving here. What if the husbands were afraid the wives were coming after them for the casino money?”

She leaned forward. “Seriously, why else would the wives want them dead?”

“Depending on how much insurance there is, that could be reason enough.”

“If the husbands have tons of money from the casino, that’s way more motivation for the wives to want them killed. Way more than just their insurance money. Don’t you think?”

Brenda took a sip of her coffee.

Hector scattered the sesame seeds on his plate. “Insurance money is usually enough.”

Brenda put her chin in her hands and rubbed her cheeks. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right. It wouldn’t be the first time. That Murdaugh case in the Low Country. That big, red-headed lawyer killed his wife and son for the insurance money.”

Brenda took another sip of her coffee. “Or.” Hector loved watching her brain work. “Or, the husbands were stealing, thought the casino caught them, and that’s why they were scared. But they didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because they were paranoid. And they thought if you knew about the casino money, you’d try to take it.”

Hector stirred three teaspoons of sugar into his coffee one at a time, then swirled his spoon. It had cooled down, just the way he liked it. “How much money are you talkin’?”

“Padma thinks it could have been about fifty grand a week since they got those machines four years ago.”

“That’s . . . “

Brenda slid her phone across the table, and Hector looked at the calculator readout. “About ten million dollars.”

Brenda tapped the screen. “What do you think about that?”

Hector gave a low whistle. “Interesting. But she’s not positive it was them?”

“She knows Dave Brand had access. And she knows Hank lied about being friends with Dave, so that makes her think Hank could be involved. Although she doesn’t think he was smart enough. She thinks he was a boob.”

Brenda smiled at Hector. “She’s asked the head office in India to send help to sort it out.”

Hector drained his coffee, came around to Brenda’s side of the table, leaned down, and tenderly kissed her neck, then her cheek, her ear, and finally her lips. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Gotta go. I love you.”

“I know.”

She smiled.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Hector picked up his backpack on the way to the door.

Brenda called after him. “Remember—‘a man’s got to know his limitations.’”

Hector stopped and turned around. Tilted his head. “I’m hearing Clint Eastwood.”

“One of the Dirty Harry movies. Not sure which one.”

He scratched his chin. “Magnum Force.”

Her smile widened. “Be safe. Love you.”

And their apartment door closed behind him.