“How do you know?”
The cars ahead slowed yet again. Traffic in L.A. drove Isaac crazy. The jammed freeway, the discourteous driver who’d just flipped them off, this horrible situation. He craved the escape of the jungle worse than ever before. But now, even if the grant came through, he couldn’t leave. “This morning I called a friend of mine who works in the Attorney General’s office in Illinois.”
“And?”
Her fingers looked as though he’d need a crowbar to pry them off the steering wheel. “He said we can call the police, but the D.A. probably won’t prosecute.”
“Why not?”
Isaac fidgeted with his seat belt, bothered, along with everything else, by the chest restraint. “For starters, we have a jurisdiction problem. Because Keith has been living in both Idaho and California, they’d first have to decide which state would take the case.”
“For crying out loud. That can’t be too hard.”
“In theory. Anyway, the D.A. who ultimately gets the case would have to believe it worthy of his time and effort. And—”
“How can it not be worthy of his time and effort?” she snapped. “Lord knows we have enough proof.”
“Bigamy’s a felony, but it’s not a violent crime.”
“So what?”
“Keith wasn’t abusive, and he’s always provided for his children. Those two things will stand in his favor. Think about it. If he goes to prison, he’ll no longer be able to support either family.”
“But if the police won’t do anything to stop this sort of thing, what’s to keep other men from committing the same crime?”
“The kind of man who would do what Keith has done isn’t generally the type of man who would also support both families. They’d get him on something else.”
“So there’s no legal recourse?”
“Not really. Even if the D.A. agrees to prosecute, Keith will likely wind up with nothing worse than a few years of parole and some mandatory community service.”
Her fingers twitched, but she left her cuticles alone. “This is…this is unbelievable.”
“I know, but we’ll work through it together. We’ll figure out a fair amount of support and—”
“I don’t want to talk about support anymore,” she said.
“The whole thing’s a shock,” he replied. “But you’ll recover. I’ll stay here in L.A. with you as long as you need me.”
“What does she look like?”
The sudden change in subject took Isaac by surprise. “What?”
“You heard me. What does his other wife look like?”
Obviously, her mind was bouncing around, still trying to grasp the full extent of the catastrophe. But Isaac knew she wouldn’t like the truth. He hesitated, wondering how to answer.
“Isaac?” she pressed.
“She’s…small,” he said.
“And?”
“Dark hair.”
“Great, we’re opposites.”
He said nothing.
“Is she beautiful?” she asked.
“Liz…”
“Tell me.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Stop torturing yourself,” he said with a scowl.
“She is beautiful.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful.”
“But she’s the one who’s walking away from this with her family intact!”
“You don’t really want Keith anymore, do you? Not now. Not after everything he’s done.”
“This isn’t about me, Isaac. Keith now lives in Idaho, which means my kids will never get to see their father.”
“In the long run, maybe things are better that way.”
“Better for whom?” she cried.
“For you.”
“But not for my children!”
“We can make him pay child support. We can’t make him visit the kids.”
Her eyes darted nervously over the road as she worried her bottom lip. “If we lived closer to him, I know he’d see them. He loves them. That much of what we had has to be real!”
“You don’t live anywhere near him,” he reminded her. “Not anymore.”
“We could,” she said. “All we have to do is move to Idaho.”
CHAPTER NINE
REENIE FELT oddly removed from the situation, as if she was standing outside herself, watching what was taking place in her living room. Yet she’d slept with Keith for eleven years. She’d cooked for him, washed his clothes, planned his birthday parties, borne his children. How could he be facing her right now with tears in his eyes, begging her to believe that he’d merely “screwed up”? That she should give him another chance?
Maybe if he’d had a one-night stand, she could make an allowance. They spent a lot of time apart. She could understand being tempted. But he’d married another woman. Whenever she managed to dredge up some hope that they’d be able to salvage their marriage, the image of that other woman and her children waiting for him, kissing him hello, sending him off—everything she’d done herself—created an impenetrable barricade around her heart.
Gabe sat in the doorway leading to the kitchen, a silent but brooding presence. She could sense the rage he felt toward Keith, a man he’d always liked before last night.
Her life had reversed itself so completely. The events of the past fifteen hours seemed absolutely surreal.
She glanced at the clock ticking on top of the piano, conscious of the fact that Jennifer, Angela and Isabella would soon be getting out of school. What would they come home to? Would they have to hear that their parents were splitting up? That their father had been asked to move out? Or could she somehow save them from that?
“Reenie?” Keith looked at her imploringly. “Are you listening to me? I said we’d buy the farm, do anything you want.”
She’d heard that part, understood it easily enough. The part she couldn’t grasp was how he’d kept his actions a secret for so long. And what had made him want to develop a long-term relationship with another woman in the first place. He’d never once mentioned that he was unhappy. He’d never said she was falling short in any way. He’d said only that he loved her, that they’d be together forever, that they were a family.
Had he told his other wife the same things? Made the same promises?
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.