Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [358]
“You know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“For cheating on him with that cowboy in Nebraska.”
Maggie restrained her anger by strangling the cloth napkin in her lap.
“Nick Morrelli is not a cowboy. And I did not cheat on Greg.”
“Maybe not physically.”
This time her mother’s eyes caught hers, and Maggie couldn’t look away. She had never told her mother about Nick Morrelli, but obviously Greg had. She had met Nick last year. At the time he had been a county sheriff in a small Nebraska town. The two of them had spent a week together chasing a child killer. Ever since then she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind for very long, a task made more difficult now that he was living in Boston, an A.D.A. for Suffolk County. But she was not even seeing Nick, had insisted, in fact, that they have little contact until her divorce was final. And, despite her feelings, she had not slept with Nick. She had never cheated on Greg, or at least not in a legal sense. Maybe she was guilty of cheating on him in her heart.
Never mind. It wasn’t any of her mother’s business. How dare she claim that she had some secret access to Maggie’s heart. She had no right. Not after all the damage she had done to it herself.
“The divorce papers have already been drawn up,” Maggie finally said with what she hoped was enough finality to close the subject.
“But you haven’t signed them yet?”
She continued to stare at her mother’s concerned look, puzzled by it as much as she was uncomfortable with it. Was her mother sincerely trying to change? Was she genuinely concerned? Or had she talked to Greg, discovered he was having second thoughts and agreed to some secret alliance? Was that the real reason behind this good ole Thanksgiving plan?
“Whether we sign the divorce papers or not, nothing will change between Greg and me.”
“No, of course not. Not as long as you insist on keeping that government job of yours.”
There it was. The subtle but oh-so-effective jab to the heart. Much more effective than a slap to the face. Of course, Maggie was the bad guy, and the divorce was all her fault. And, according to her mother, everything could be fixed if only Maggie apologized and swept all the messy problems out of sight. No need to solve anything. Just get them the hell out of sight. After all, wasn’t that Kathleen O’Dell’s specialty? What you don’t acknowledge can’t possibly exist.
Maggie shook her head and smiled up at the waiter who had returned and deposited in front of her a tumbler of amber, liquid salvation. She picked up the glass and sipped, ignoring the frown on her mother’s new and carefully made-up face. Indeed, some things never changed.
Her cellular phone began ringing, and Maggie twisted around to pull it out of her jacket, which hung on the back of her chair. Only two rings and the entire restaurant was now joining her mother to frown at her.
“Maggie O’Dell.”
“Agent O’Dell, it’s Cunningham. Sorry to interrupt your Sunday morning.”
“That’s fine, sir.” This new apologetic Cunningham could easily start to grate on her nerves. She wanted her old boss back.
“A body’s been found on federal property. District PD’s on the scene, but I’ve gotten a request for BSU to take a look.”
“I’m already at the Crystal City Hyatt. Just tell me where you need me to be.” She could feel her mother scowling at her. She wanted another sip of Scotch, but set it aside.
“Meet Agent Tully at the FDR Memorial.”
“The monument?”
“Yes. The fourth gallery. The District’s lead on the scene is…” She could hear him flipping pages. “Lead is a Detective Racine.”
“Racine? Julia Racine?”
“Yes, I believe so. Is there a problem, Agent O’Dell?”
“No, sir. Not at all.”
“Okay then.” He hung up without a goodbye, a sign the old Cunningham was still in charge.
Maggie looked at her mother as she wrestled into her jacket and peeled out a twenty dollar bill to leave for the breakfast she hadn’t yet ordered.
“Sorry. I need to leave.”
“Yes, I know. Your job. It tends to ruin quite a few things, doesn’t it?”
Rather than even try to find the correct answer, Maggie grabbed the tumbler