He remembered Vivian’s expression when he had shown her the marriage record from 1923, and explained that he had not been able to find any evidence that the Edward/Mildred marriage had been annulled, nor evidence of a divorce. He had also told her that Mildred was still living. It had been a lot for a person to hear all at once.

The husband-and-wife cases made up the bulk of his workload, but they were also the toughest for him. It was the criminal cases that kept him chomping at the bit, salivating for justice. And, just so you know, he could have found Gilbert Ogden and Flora Parker if he’d really wanted to. In fact, when business was slow, he did a little bit of snooping, just to satisfy his own curiosity, to see if his instincts were correct. And they were. Give old Don a couple of days, a week at the most, and he could’ve had them both back in Wooster, in handcuffs, standing in front of the judge down at City Hall. But he was infinitely loyal to his clients, and did exactly as they asked. The thing was, he was being paid not to find them.

Don sucked thoughtfully on a peppermint candy, looked at the date on the flip calendar on his cluttered desk. Friday the thirteenth, the day before Valentine’s Day. He shook his head.

Chapter 37

The day before Valentine’s Day was the day Gilbert decided to leave, so it was not in the least bit romantic for Flora Parker. Frantic was more like it. She rushed at the suitcase and started grabbing the folded shirts and pants and throwing them on the bed.

“You can’t do this!” she begged.

Gilbert returned from the bathroom holding his shaving kit and stood in the doorway. He shook his head at the scene before him.

“Flora, please stop.”

But she had upended the entire suitcase onto the pile of clothes and slammed both palms down onto the hard shell.

“You can’t do this,” she repeated, this time in a small voice, which threatened to crack.

Gilbert crossed the room to the bed and stood next to Flora, righting the suitcase and placing his shaving kit in the bottom. He rubbed his forehead.

“I have to go. She’s sick. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

Flora turned around and then slid down until her backside hit the floor and she was leaning against the bed, her hands covering her face.

“If you’re caught, you’ll get the electric chair.”

“I’m not going to get caught. I told you, I will be careful.”

“Gil, that was a lot of money to steal. People don’t forget about that much money.”

Footsteps echoed on the stairs.

“Bill.” Flora moved her hands away to reveal a tear-stained face. “Tell him not to go.”

Bill hated to see his wife like this. Desperate and high-strung. It was completely out of character for her, but she had always been that way about her brother.