going to burst into tears, but then he lunged forward and grabbed Eliot's tie. "I don't reckon that's any of your damned business, fancy boy."
Wayne was no taller than Eliot, though he probably outweighed him by fifty pounds...most of it fat, Eliot suspected. He had no intention of getting into a fight with the man, but he had no intention of being bullied either.
He grabbed Wayne's wrist, holding it in place with one hand, then snapped his other hand up under his elbow, stopping just short of enough pressure to break the joint.
Wayne grunted and jerked back, and Eliot released him. He rubbed his elbow and looked even more furious.
"What did you tell her about a divorce?" Eliot demanded.
"I didn't want her after she'd been fooling around with the likes of you. Does that answer your question? Now get outta here." He turned away, still holding his elbow, and picked up his helmet.
"What was her maiden name?" Eliot called after him, but the big man didn't look back. "Was it Becker?"
Wayne pulled on his helmet. The interview was over. If he could believe Wayne, he'd agreed to give Kay a divorce. Which meant she would have called her lover to celebrate.
If he could believe Wayne.
He didn't want to believe the man, but he couldn't forget the overpowering sadness that had flashed across Wayne's face when Eliot had asked about the divorce. Wayne had loved her, and now he mourned her.
Which didn't mean he hadn't killed her in a fit of anger. He definitely had a temper.
Eliot held onto that thought as he left the car repair shop and drove toward Leanne's office. He had to believe Wayne could have killed Kay; otherwise, he would have to believe Edward had killed her...that he had crushed her throat with the hands that shaved his face in the mornings and put food in his mouth at meals.
Those hands were sweaty on his leather covered steering wheel. Somewhere deep in his gut, he didn't believe Wayne had killed Kay.
***
Eliot parked his car and went up to Leanne's office.
He pushed open the door of her outer office and found it empty. The receptionist had already left. But Thurman would be there today. Though initially he'd been opposed to involving a third party in his problems, it was good that the older man would be here. It would solve the problem of Leanne's safety. It would allow him to meet with her after hours instead of waiting until she could work him into her day schedule.
He perched on the edge of a pale blue chair. Leanne had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to make her office soothing, to relax her patients. The colors were all muted pastels, even in the paintings that decorated the walls. But the effect was lost on him.
Even the thought of Thurman's presence grated on his nerves. In addition to his usual reluctance to reveal himself, he felt resentment toward Thurman, as if Thurman were an intruder. As if Eliot and Leanne shared a closeness that Thurman would shatter.
He shifted uncomfortably in the comfortable chair.
It didn't take a psychiatrist to point out to him the analogy between his teenage experience with Kay and Edward and the present situation with Thurman and Leanne. Except Leanne was his doctor. He couldn't afford to lose control of his hormones where she was concerned.
Leanne's office door opened, and she came out wearing a white suit with a sapphire blue blouse that just matched her eyes. She managed to look soft and sexy in spite of the severe lines of the outfit...and he didn't dare see her that way. He had to see her as a doctor, only as a doctor. Her blasted Code of Ethics aside, if he thought of her as a woman, an attractive woman, he wasn't sure he could make himself trust her enough to spill to her what little was left of his guts.
And he was certain he couldn't trust Edward.
She gave him a tired smile and lifted one hand to rub the back of her neck. In spite of his resolutions, he wanted to push her hand aside and replace it with his own, massage away her tiredness, see if
Wayne was no taller than Eliot, though he probably outweighed him by fifty pounds...most of it fat, Eliot suspected. He had no intention of getting into a fight with the man, but he had no intention of being bullied either.
He grabbed Wayne's wrist, holding it in place with one hand, then snapped his other hand up under his elbow, stopping just short of enough pressure to break the joint.
Wayne grunted and jerked back, and Eliot released him. He rubbed his elbow and looked even more furious.
"What did you tell her about a divorce?" Eliot demanded.
"I didn't want her after she'd been fooling around with the likes of you. Does that answer your question? Now get outta here." He turned away, still holding his elbow, and picked up his helmet.
"What was her maiden name?" Eliot called after him, but the big man didn't look back. "Was it Becker?"
Wayne pulled on his helmet. The interview was over. If he could believe Wayne, he'd agreed to give Kay a divorce. Which meant she would have called her lover to celebrate.
If he could believe Wayne.
He didn't want to believe the man, but he couldn't forget the overpowering sadness that had flashed across Wayne's face when Eliot had asked about the divorce. Wayne had loved her, and now he mourned her.
Which didn't mean he hadn't killed her in a fit of anger. He definitely had a temper.
Eliot held onto that thought as he left the car repair shop and drove toward Leanne's office. He had to believe Wayne could have killed Kay; otherwise, he would have to believe Edward had killed her...that he had crushed her throat with the hands that shaved his face in the mornings and put food in his mouth at meals.
Those hands were sweaty on his leather covered steering wheel. Somewhere deep in his gut, he didn't believe Wayne had killed Kay.
***
Eliot parked his car and went up to Leanne's office.
He pushed open the door of her outer office and found it empty. The receptionist had already left. But Thurman would be there today. Though initially he'd been opposed to involving a third party in his problems, it was good that the older man would be here. It would solve the problem of Leanne's safety. It would allow him to meet with her after hours instead of waiting until she could work him into her day schedule.
He perched on the edge of a pale blue chair. Leanne had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to make her office soothing, to relax her patients. The colors were all muted pastels, even in the paintings that decorated the walls. But the effect was lost on him.
Even the thought of Thurman's presence grated on his nerves. In addition to his usual reluctance to reveal himself, he felt resentment toward Thurman, as if Thurman were an intruder. As if Eliot and Leanne shared a closeness that Thurman would shatter.
He shifted uncomfortably in the comfortable chair.
It didn't take a psychiatrist to point out to him the analogy between his teenage experience with Kay and Edward and the present situation with Thurman and Leanne. Except Leanne was his doctor. He couldn't afford to lose control of his hormones where she was concerned.
Leanne's office door opened, and she came out wearing a white suit with a sapphire blue blouse that just matched her eyes. She managed to look soft and sexy in spite of the severe lines of the outfit...and he didn't dare see her that way. He had to see her as a doctor, only as a doctor. Her blasted Code of Ethics aside, if he thought of her as a woman, an attractive woman, he wasn't sure he could make himself trust her enough to spill to her what little was left of his guts.
And he was certain he couldn't trust Edward.
She gave him a tired smile and lifted one hand to rub the back of her neck. In spite of his resolutions, he wanted to push her hand aside and replace it with his own, massage away her tiredness, see if
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