London
Later That Night
“Can you believe the gall of that detective?” Roderick yelled so that his wife, Luisa, could hear him while she was in the bathroom getting ready.
He was struggling to tie a double Windsor knot while looking in the mirror. His fingers were trembling, and he was still fuming from the previous day’s interview.
“‘I’m a great detective. I’ll figure it out.’ Can you believe he said that to me? To me!”
He wondered whether his wife was even listening to him. She tuned out a lot of things he said because Roderick was a gregarious man. Mostly it was tedious conversations about work or some golf outing or a work-related dinner he had to attend with clients somewhere across the country far away from Tucson. This topic was serious. He needed her to be there for him. But wo
