Motive by Jonathan Kellerman Read Free Book Online Page A

Viagra.”
    “You’re saying you believe—”
    “I don’t believe, I know.” Corey let out a bizarre giggle. “Ursula made no attempt to hide what she did. A couple of years ago, during one of our go-rounds—in Fellinger’s office, as a matter of fact—I picked up a vibe. Fellinger sitting too close to Ursula. Looking at her in a personal way. When I asked Ursula about it, she came right out and admitted it. I made some snarky comment about Fellinger giving her a discount and she pretended to be offended, made like she was going to slap me. Then she cracked up and we had a good laugh. She said nude he looked like a monkey.”
    “But she—”
    “Yes, she did, guys. Came right out and said it, that was Ursula. Independent. Not when we were married. At least I don’t think so. But afterward? It was like she was making up for lost time.”
    “It didn’t bother you?”
    “Did I say that? Sure it bothered me, I loved her. And the image of her with that ape—not exactly pretty but what could I do? And frankly the fact that Ursula was so open about her behavior kind of … reduced it. Trivialized it.”
    I said, “The fact that it meant nothing to her emotionally.”
    “Exactly,” said Corey.
    “And you think she also might’ve slept with Earl Cohen?”
    “The old scrotum? She never said but, again, I was pretty attuned to Ursula’s nonverbals and one time we were in Earl’s office, he’s my lawyer but I’m getting the distinct vibe he’d rather be Ursula’s lawyer. After we left, I made a crack about that but she just laughed. Still … my bet is she was aggressively promiscuous after the divorce.”
    “Are you aware of anyone else—”
    “Not by name but my daughters intimated she was dating pretty heavily.”
    “How did you feel—”
    “Initially it hurt, but I realized that wasn’t rational, we were divorced, I had no claims on Ursula. So rather than eat my guts out, I learned to live with it. Told myself it was like learning to live with an alcoholic or an addict or a hoarder if you cared about them. I mean, let’s face it, everyone’s got quirks, that was hers.”
    He studied the bottom of his empty glass. “I know you guys are judging us but I loved her and wanted her happy, so you can believe me or not, I don’t care.”
    I said, “Did you and Ursula continue to—”
    “From time to time,” said Corey. His eyes fluttered, closed, reopened at half-mast. Looking at his glass with yearning, he said, “With me she made love. With everyone else it was sex. Once I was able to stop thinking of it as betrayal, to consider it like having lunch with friends, I was okay.”
    He put the glass down. “This is going to sound brutal but did you attend Ursula’s autopsy? Detectives do that, right?”
    “It’s a bit early for that, sir.”
    “Well,” said Corey, “here’s a prediction for when you do attend: They’re going to remove Ursula’s clothing—tight jeans, right?—and find out she wasn’t wearing any panties. How do I know? Because after the divorce Ursula told me her new motto: ‘Ready for action.’ ”
    I said, “Adventurous.”
    “Like a gun cocked and ready to shoot.”
    If the metaphor gave him pause, he didn’t show it, began turning the glass between his palms. “Trust me, guys, that’s what’s going to solve it. She went overboard and slept with the wrong guy. Some scumbag she thought she understood but didn’t. I mean you can only engage in high-risk behavior for so long before it bites you, right?”
    Milo said, “Why did the two of you get divorced?”
    Corey crossed a thin leg. “Because Ursula wanted to and at that point I couldn’t find a reason to tell her no.”
    I said, “She’d brought it up before.”
    “Constantly. Whenever she was in a low mood or stressed about something, she’d start in on three topics: running off to a remote place to find a slower pace of life, moving back to Asia because even though she didn’t believe in God she