Beaufort had replaced the television the very next day after he’d broken it. And using some superglue he had been able to repair the figurine that had broken off the base of her favorite sculpture. It wasn’t as damaged as he had thought.

Or maybe Gloria’s moping had something to do with the Quinn woman’s visit to their house. Maybe Gloria hadn’t told him everything. Damn that Quinn woman. Whatever the reason, dinner was a little strained the night after their row, and the next one, too. So was the sex that Jerry attempted. Gloria was like a limp dishrag and it was her fault if Beaufort was, too. Without comment, without even saying good night, they gave up and rolled to their opposite sides of the bed.

Beaufort fell asleep quickly as he always did, but woke up to find the moonlight coming through the blinds. His cell in prison had been totally dark, and he hadn’t gotten accustomed to the light that came into Gloria’s bedroom. Tossing a couple of times, when he didn’t hear light snoring, he realized that Gloria wasn’t in bed. Gloria, who always slept like a rock.

He lifted his head slowly from the pillow and looked toward the bathroom, which was darker than the bedroom. Then outside the bedroom door he saw the bright pinpoint light of a small flashlight. It held steady like she was standing in one place in the living room.

Beaufort turned rather than pushed back the covers so they wouldn’t make so much as a swishing sound, and slowly drew out his feet and put them on the floor. He didn’t bother to put anything on but walked naked one step at a time into the living room, hugging the doorjamb and then the walls where the light of the flashlight didn’t go.

Gloria must have been holding the flashlight between her teeth, because when he put his hands on her bare shoulders she screamed and the light dropped. Beaufort gripped her strongly enough so she couldn’t bend down, and they stood there in the dark with what light there was spilling uselessly across the carpet.

“What are you doing up?” he said, pretending that she was just startled by his sudden presence.

“Just. Up,” she said, having no excuse prepared.

He put his arms around her from behind, ran his hands down her arms and felt that she was holding something. His wallet, open, in one hand, a piece of paper in the other.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, taking both from her unresisting hands. Though it was dark with only the thin beam of the flashlight across the carpet, he knew the paper was the receipt with the DiForenzas’ phone number written on the back.