men who called her. Maybe, when it came right down to it, she was just like them. Tears rose in her eyes, but they didn’t dare fall.
“He was a cop with Miami-Dade. We had a good life. Other cop families for friends. Good kids. A house we didn’t pay that much for in Doral, then the price just rose and rose until we were sitting on a pot of money. Kenny liked what he did, made it all the way to detective. Him and me, we were happy as could be, even though we’re as different as apple pie and lemon meringue.”
“So what happened? He killed somebody on the job?”
“A drug dealer, a young one, which made it worse. Down in Cutler Bay, at one of the high-rises. He had a gun in plain sight, and turned it on Kenny and his partner. Kenny shouted his warning in English, and Spanish, too. He took Spanish classes every chance he got, so he’d be able to make himself understood, and not just to the Latin Kings, to any man on the street who wanted to tell him stuff. He was that kind of cop.”
“He sounds like a natural.”
“He probably couldn’t have lived with himself even one bit if he hadn’t shouted that warning in Spanish, too. The man heard him, but instead of dropping his gun, he fired. Kenny had to take him down. That’s all there was to it. And they investigated, you know, the way they have to. But there were plenty of people, not just his partner, but good people who lived there and saw what had happened and said so, even when they knew it might make trouble for themselves. But they said their piece anyway, because the guy who died was nothing but trouble.”
“I can imagine how your husband must have felt.”
“Maybe at first I saw how it was for him. Right after. He’d fired before, but nobody ever died. And the kid was from a family that loved him and tried to make things right. That made it worse. Like maybe he still had potential, even though he went off to jail after high school the way some kids go to college.”
“So why is it so hard to see the problem now?”
“That was a year and a half ago. And every day since, Kenny’s moved away a little more, ’til he’s not here at all, even when he’s home. We moved to Palmetto Grove so he could work in a quieter place. And he does do mostly desk work now, something he used to hate. Manages stuff, goes to meetings. He rented this place ’cause he said he wanted to be near the water, that maybe he would find peace. Instead he just drifted further and further away.”
“Doesn’t it take time to get over something like that?”
“He’s just getting deeper.”
“Man, I would never have believed it, but you and I actually have something in common.”
Wanda raised one tired eyebrow. “Well, aren’t we special to share bad marriages.”
“Of course, my husband went to prison. Yours sticks people there.”
“Your apology’s accepted.”
Tracy smiled. Wanda thought the lovely smile really made the woman. And unlike some of the others, this one looked completely genuine.
“You find out anything more about old Herb?” Wanda asked. “Did you go back and apologize to the chess players, too?”
“I’m afraid they’ll beat me over the head with their canes. No, I tracked down an old landlord, and he gave me a reference Herb had used, a preacher in Kentucky. I heard from him this afternoon while I was painting my living room. He remembered Herb because he used to do chores around the church and never asked for a cent in return. Pastor Fred didn’t remember much that was personal, but he did say he was pretty sure Herb had a daughter out of state, that he mentioned her once, then clammed up when he asked more. He said Herb was a man with secrets, and nothing Pastor Fred did or said made him comfortable enough to talk about them.”
“Well, that’s a kick in the head,” Wanda said.
“Until he called, I was feeling good about just telling the funeral home I washed my hands of the whole mess. Now I’m pretty much obligated to go through his stuff and see what I can find. But I’m not looking forward to it.”
Tracy sighed and got to her feet again. “I’m going to go now and let you rest. Can I get you anything before I