Page 106 of Speak of the Devil

Angling her head, she asks, “What?”

“We need to talk to Roberta.”

My phone vibrates against my leg, and hers by the glare I’m shot. “Jesus, Shane. You’re going to kill me with the texts.”

I’d chuckle, but I think she’s serious. Pulling it from my pocket, I see a message from Tommy:

The car will pick you up at ten a.m. on Wednesday. Enjoy the day off tomorrow.

I look at her. And though she’s feigning complete disinterest, I know she’s on edge from it. “It was Tommy, my manager. We have two shows next weekend.”

“When do you leave?”

“Wednesday.”

“The county offices open on Tuesday. I can’t go this week, though. My schedule is booked full.” She sets her laptop on the coffee table, then slides onto my lap.

I slip my hands up the back of her T-shirt, and say, “What if I go?”

“It might work better for us. She loves you.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she says, “In the meantime, it looks like we have another thirty-six hours. How should we spend them?”

Squeezing her fine ass, I stare into her playful eyes, reading a whole book of naughty ideas populating the irises. “I have a few ideas.”

“I thought you might.”

I kiss her, then rise to carry her into the bedroom. We’ve fucked all over this house, but this time, I want to savor our time together.

Tuesday 8 a.m.sharp

“You’re here bright and early,”Roberta says, hoisting herself up on the stool that’s too tall for her legs. “My first account of the day.”

“Wanted to make sure I got in to see you.”

“You’re seeing me. How can I assist you today, Mr. Faris? Are you still Scooby Doo-ing the mystery marriage?”

“Sure are.” I rest on my elbow, leaning in. “I wanted to get a little more information, and I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

Poised with her fingers over the keyboard, she says, “What am I searching for?”

“How was the marriage license sent? Was it an online form back then, through email, fax, or . . .?”

She types, stares at the screen, and then types again. “Ah. Submitted online.” Tapping the screen, she says, “Did I tell you that you and Mrs. Faris were part of our original beta program?” My mind is still stuck on the Mrs. Faris part of that question and how much I like the sound of that.

“No, you didn’t mention it, Roberta. What does that mean exactly?”

“We’ve had so many people come in over the years to finalize the marriage.”

My gut twists. My chest tightens.I start rubbing the knot forming near my heart to loosen it while the worst flashes through my head. Is she saying— “What does finalize mean?”

“There was a glitch in the system. Some people got their emails, and some didn’t.” Spinning on her stool, she leans on the counter in front of her. “We were testing an online system to move from hard copies . . .” Her hands roll into the air above her head. “And put everything into the clouds. It was also being tested in case of emergencies. Natural disasters, pandemics, the ocean swallowing up California like they’ve predicted forever. That kind of thing.”

I’m still staring at her when she sits back like she’s wanting to chat all day while my life is falling apart. When I don’t say anything, she continues, “Anyway, you were part of the program. The license was filed as if it was complete, but now I see you never got the follow-up email. I wasn’t looking at the file as a whole. I was looking at the license since that’s what you were both verifying. The license is correct. The marriage . . . ”

Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please—“Mystery solved. You’re not married, after all.” She’s smiling like she’s done me a favor. “All that upset for nothing.”

It’s for something alright. I’ve not only had my life ripped out from under me, but I no longer have my wife. Now I realize they were one and the same.

I can’t lose Cat.I can’t.“How do we finalize it?”

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