Lisa McClure
My ex-husband has always excelled at ruining things in the most fashionable of ways. “I’m supposed to be on vacation,” I say to the detective when he calls. “And I’ve already spoken to the cops.”
“Forgive me,” he says kindly. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but you don’t seem surprised your former husband was found murdered. You seem… I don’t know…quite put out.”
“It hasn’t hit me yet,” I tell him. “Maybe it’s the time difference.”
“I appreciate sarcasm,” he says. “What can you tell me about Jason?”
“Mark? You said your name was?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, Mark, I’ll tell you what I tell everyone…”
He’s quiet for a beat. “What’s that?”
“The truth is the truth, no matter how many times you have to explain it.”
“I’m all ears.”
I take a deep breath in and let it out. How do yo
