The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Constable, what happened?" Trinket gasped, instinctively reaching her hand out to him.

He winced as her fingers brushed against his bruised skin, but he forced a smile and gently gripped her wrist. "Nothing to worry yourself about," he said, lowering her arm.

"Booker didn't—"

"No, no, Larkin had no part in it. I . . ."

The officer trailed off, his eyes wandering away as he cleared his throat. Trinket waited for him to continue, furrowing her brow with concern. Who could've done this? Had it been a Mouse? Or had he caused a problem at the station trying to get the bodies to her and Booker?

"Constable?" she asked softly when he still didn't speak.

Heaving a sigh, he turned back to her and hunched up his shoulders as he dug his hands into his pockets. "It was my wife."

That was not what she'd been expecting. She blinked a few times, taking in his response. "Your wife?"

"Yeah, she's a lot tougher than she looks."

"What happened? Why did she—oh!"

His mistress. Had she found out?

After another sigh, Jewkes pulled out a cigarette. "It's not what you think," he said as he clumsily tried to light it. "She didn't find me out. I told her."

Trinket's eyes went wide. "You told her?"

Having lit the cigarette, he shook out the match and took a drag. "I did. Told Rhea it was over a week or so ago, gave her what I could to keep her on her feet. Took me a little longer to work up the nerve to tell my wife, though. And when I did . . . well . . ."

He gestured to his eye, and Trinket winced in sympathy.

"Can't blame her, though," he went on, letting out a stream of smoke. "Can't blame her for kicking me out, either."

"She kicked you out?"

"Quite literally, in fact." He rubbed his lower back.

"Do you need a place to stay?"

He shook his head. "I'm staying in a room down on Cordella. It's no luxurious suite, but it's close to work."

"Oh, Jewkes, I'm so—"

Holding up a hand, he cut her off. "Don't say it, Miss Trinket. I don't deserve any sympathy. Like I said, can't blame her for it. I'm the one who strayed. I'm the one who broke our marriage vows." He released a sigh, tapping the cigarette and sending a tiny flurry of ash into the air. "I do love her. Guess I loved Rhea, too, but my wife's the one I gave my word to. I hope she'll forgive me. Someday. Can't expect her to, though. What I really worry about is my daughter. I pray I haven't ruined everything between me and her. Because if there's someone I love more than life, it's her."

The tender feeling in his voice tugged at Trinket's heart. "What made you tell her, though? It wasn't to get out from under Booker's thumb, was it?"

He scowled. "No, Larkin had nothing to do with it. And I don't want him knowing anything about this, either."

The firm stare he gave her took her by surprise, and she nodded her understanding.

His expression relaxed as his eyes turned soft. "I just realized how wrong it all was. Someone made me think."

The gentle smile he flashed made her stomach twist with guilt. It was her? She was the reason his marriage had fallen apart?

"Keeping secrets from the ones you love is a recipe for disaster," he continued. "Wish I'd figured that out a while ago."