Breaking Up Is Hard to Do (The Sam McCain Mysteries Book 6) by Ed Gorman

She looked pretty damned wonderful. “He left me for somebody else.”
    “Wes? Wes Lindstrom?” he said. “My God, he was one of the most upstanding people in the whole town. What’s gone wrong with this place? Has everybody lost his sense of decency? My wife lying there in her underwear. And you Mary up here with—with McCain.” He made “McCain” sound very dirty. Stu was another local Brahmin. I was not fit for local society.
    “Stu, before you get all set up in the pulpit up there,” I said, “let me remind you that you left your wife and kids and ran off with Pamela. That means you don’t get to judge people the way you’re judging Mary and me. Or anybody else, for that matter.”
    “You didn’t sleep with Pamela?”
    “I didn’t sleep with her.”
    “It still pisses me off that she came running back to you.”
    “She’s confused.”
    He touched his hand to his head. I figured he either had a headache or was fighting back tears. “I never should’ve left my wife and kids like that. My kids haven’t forgiven me yet, I’m not sure they ever will. Of course their mother poisons their minds against me every day.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “I talk to them on the phone all the time. They tell me some of the things their mother tells them. Man, I’m Hitler and Stalin rolled into one.”
    He gaped at the bed again. “You really didn’t sleep with her?”
    “I really didn’t sleep with her.”
    “But I’ll bet you wanted to.”
    “Oh, Lord, Stu,” Mary said. “You practically break in here and start accusing Sam of all sorts of things when he tells you over and over that he and Pamela didn’t do anything. He’s telling you the truth. I was here the whole time.”
    He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re one of the nicest people in this town, Mary. Why McCain here didn’t marry you is beyond me.”
    She laughed. “It’s beyond me, too.”
    He saw the bottle on the table. “Mind if I have a snort?”
    “Be my guest,” Mary said.
    He had two snorts. Once, he sobbed. A single sob. It just sort of escaped. And then you could see him force himself to stop. He made a fist, he made a face, he said, “Shit, this is great, isn’t it?”
    “Just calm down, Stu.”
    “Calm down? I’m back in this town where everybody hates me. My wife wants to leave me. And I’m making an ass out of myself in front of Mary and you.”
    “Stu,” I said, “I’ve made an ass of myself in front of so many people, they’d fill a stadium.”
    His face showed surprise. “Really?”
    “Hell, yes, if I don’t make an ass of myself at least twice a day, I can’t sleep at night. I just lie there and think of all the opportunities I missed.”
    He gave me his courtroom smile. Before he’d wrecked his legal career by fleeing town with a woman named the beautiful Pamela Forrest, he’d been one of the highest paid attorneys in the state. There was talk of the governor’s mansion or at least a state supreme court appointment. “You’re being a lot nicer to me than you should be. One more?”
    “Be my guest.”
    He poured. He drank. He sighed. “And all this insane stuff with Ross Murdoch and his three buddies. Keeping a woman. Incredible. I knew it’d all catch up to them some day.” He took one more drink. “He said he’d nail them.”
    “Who?”
    “Little guy. They had a magic act. I met her when she first came out here, but I didn’t know why she was here. But her brother did. He found out what she was up to. I heard them arguing as I was leaving the courthouse one day. She’d been in the driver’s license bureau, I guess. Anyway, I was waiting for an elevator and just stood in the hall while they kept going. That’s how I found out what she was really doing about it.”
    “He was mad because she was a concubine?”
    “Hell, no. He was mad because she was cutting him out of the money. She’d done things like this in the past but he always got some of the