"Nice?" Charlotte's mouth fell open, then snapped shut. "I had head-banging, mind-blowing, totally anonymous sex with that man thirteen years ago! And I'm talking minutes before Kurt proposed to me! Do you hear what I'm saying, Bonnie? He popped my cherry while Kurt was waiting to pop the question!"

"Oh. Oh, dear," Bonnie managed.

"And Kurt thought I was a virgin when we got married. It was really important to him. But I lied, Bonnie! I had sex with this guy in the weeds! Three times! And he was… oh, my God… nothing has ever been right since!"

Charlotte swayed, her arms hanging at her sides, the scotch spilling onto the carpet. She looked like she might faint. She began to sob.

Bonnie jumped up and grabbed her by the upper arms. "Charlotte. Look at me. Tell me right now-did he hurt you? My God, honey-did he attack you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Charlotte shook her head and the tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked away briefly, then steeled herself. "Actually, Bon," she whispered, a look of pleading in her eyes, "I think I may have attacked him."

Chapter Four

Her name was Charlotte.

Charlotte Mary Nelson Tasker was a thirty-five-year-old registered nurse who ran an errand service. She had two kids. She was a widow.

Joe blinked, skimming the computer file one last time, rereading the obituary for the man who'd been her husband. Kurt Lewis Tasker was a local boy, an All-State lineman who became a popular sports columnist for the Cincinnati Enquirer, apparently known for his straight talk and good humor. He left work early one Thursday with what he thought was a touch of the flu. He dropped dead a few hours later from a congenital heart defect no one knew he had.

The obit photo showed a robust, friendly looking guy with wide shoulders and questionable taste in ties. The color picture showed him at work on the sidelines at a Bengals game, curly brown hair, a lopsided grin, and pale, laughing eyes. He looked like a good guy. Joe read again how he was mourned by fellow journalists, coaches, players, and readers.