“I can’t use the threat of criminal action as a bargaining chip in your divorce.”
“Why not? He’s guilty!”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m an attorney. As such, it would constitute an ethical violation. So, if you’re going to threaten him, I don’t know about it, okay?”
She hesitated, wondering if threatening Keith violated her own ethics, and decided it did not. “Okay.”
“And…”
Reenie clenched her hands in her lap. This was probably where things got worse.
“A bigamy charge is not much to stand on, unless…could your husband also be engaged in some kind of fraud?”
“Fraud?” Celeste repeated.
“Like marrying multiple spouses to steal their money?” Reenie asked.
“That would definitely be one form of fraud, yes.”
“I don’t think so. If he got any money from Liz, he certainly didn’t share it with me.”
“So…has he broken any other laws that might put him more at risk?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Is he a good father?”
“Yes.”
“Then, unless we find out something new, most likely it won’t be worth the state’s time to prosecute him. Do you want to hire a private investigator to see if there might be something you don’t already know about?”
“No. I can’t imagine there’s more.”
“Well…” He pursed his lips as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “I guess we can forget about prosecution, then.”
No one cared that bigamy was a crime? What Keith had done was fine because he’d never stolen anyone’s money?
“Great,” Reenie said. “Any more good news?”
“Maybe.” Rosenbaum gave her a sly smile. “A man with a guilty bigamy secret wouldn’t necessarily know what I’ve just told you.”
“I see.”
“You weren’t hoping to send him to prison, were you?” he asked.
Reenie rubbed her eyes, which were burning from lack of sleep. She’d spent much of the past several nights sitting at the kitchen table making budgets and projections and plans for her life without Keith and, more than anything else, stewing over her decision to end her marriage. “No, that wouldn’t help anyone. I only want custody of the girls.”
“Do you plan to allow Mr. O’Connell visitation?”
“Of course!” Celeste cut in. “He can see the girls any time he wants.”
“Mo-ther,” Reenie said.
“I’m sorry, honey. I want to be supportive. I really do. It’s just…I’m not sure you’ll be any happier with a divorce.”
Mr. Rosenbaum arched a thick eyebrow at Celeste. It was easy to tell he thought she was crazy for supporting a bigamist son-in-law. But he seemed to think twice about stating that opinion. “Would you like to ruminate on it for a few weeks and then give me a call?” he asked Reenie.
Reenie imagined taking Keith back. Of course she wanted what they’d had before. But that was gone.
“No, I want to file immediately, while he’s still repentant,” she said. “I’ll have a much greater chance of his not contesting anything.”
Celeste muttered something Reenie couldn’t make out and began wringing her hands, but Reenie kept her spine straight and her focus on Mr. Rosenbaum.
“You’re certain?” he said.
“Positive.”
“Very good.” He stood to shake hands. “I’ll draw up the papers and get back to you.”
EVERY FEW SECONDS, Keith’s eyes darted toward the window. Since Reenie would no longer accept his phone calls or let him come to the house, except to visit the girls while she retreated to her bedroom, he hoped to bump into her somewhere else. Dundee was small enough to make a chance meeting more than a remote possibility. Especially because her sister-in-law owned the photography studio three doors down, and her parents lived only blocks away.
She’d walk by at some point, he told himself, and when she did, maybe she’d see him working at the hardware store and know he was serious about making the changes he’d promised her. Once she realized he was keeping his word, that he was really leaving Liz without looking back, maybe she’d soften and let him come by for dinner once in a while. In a few weeks, she might even let him move in. Eventually, once they were together again and everything was back to normal, he felt certain he could convince her to let him spend a little time with Mica and Christopher. They were innocent in all of this, after all—
“You ever cut those keys for Dot Fisher, Keith?”
Keith stepped aside as Ollie Weston, the owner of the store, slipped behind the cash register and opened the drawer so he could check the levels of their change. Ollie had to be nearing seventy. A taciturn man with a wiry build, a ruddy face and large callused hands, he was beginning to show his age. But he could still explain how to build or fix just about anything. Keith liked him. He’d worked for Ollie before. When he was only sixteen, he’d spent the summer sweeping and straightening the hardware store—which made it pretty fitting to be working here again, since he was starting over.
“Not yet,” Keith said. “Peter Granger was ready to check out, so I helped him first.”
“What’d Peter want?”
“More lumber for the shed he’s building in his backyard.”
“He’s not done with that yet?”
“Guess not.”
“Humph. Well, see what you can do about those keys. Dot’s coming by to pick them up as soon as she’s done at the beauty parlor.”
“You mean the salon?” Keith asked, trying not to smile at Ollie’s dated speech.
“That’s what I said, ain’t it?”
Keith chuckled while ambling to the far corner to use the key machine. In a way, he was glad to be relieved of the pressure, the traveling and the stress of his former job. He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied selling tools and insulation forever. But right now, his obsession with getting Reenie and his girls back put anything that required much concentration well beyond his reach. He’d resolve things with Reenie first, then do what he could for Liz and his other kids. Finally, he’d worry about his career.
A flash of movement outside caused him to glance up again. A woman passed by, but he couldn’t see her face.
He stopped the noisy key cutter and leaned around a display of car fresheners to get a better look. But as it turned out he didn’t need to make the extra effort. A second later, the bell jingled over the door and the woman walked in.