Mistress

Chapter 111

Anne Brennan walks down the steps of her condo and looks up at the sky. It is promising rain. She begins to head north, then she catches my eye across the street. She stops and looks at me, unsure of how to respond. A casual wave wouldn’t fit the occasion.

I cross the street and stop short of her.

“They made me do it,” she says.

“I know.” I sigh. “You were in love with Diana.”

She nods. Her eyes well up with tears. “They said if I helped them keep tabs on you, they’d go easier on Diana. And they’d let me see her.”

That’s about what I figured.

“When I first came to you,” she says, “I wasn’t doing it for them. I didn’t even know Diana was alive. I really wanted your help. But they saw me with you, and then they sunk their claws in me. They told me Diana was in custody and that how well she’d be treated depended on how much I helped them.”

None of this is surprising. I take it in without comment. There’s really nothing for me to say to her, which makes me wonder why I’ve come here at all. I guess I just wanted to see her one more time.

She searches my face for something other than bitterness. I’m not sure what she finds.

“That night we had,” she says. “That wasn’t part of the plan. It just happened. I was…kind of a mess at that point. And you’re such a good guy. Anyway, I don’t regret it. I hope you don’t, either.”

But everything else was a lie. That night she called and said she’d been attacked and threatened. Her fear of being prosecuted. All of it was a lie, orchestrated by the feds to get me to stand down.

“They’re never going to let her out of prison,” she says, speaking the words as though she hopes they aren’t true.

But they are true. Diana will spend the rest of her life behind bars.

Anne’s lucky she didn’t get pinched, too. After all, she was Diana’s lover. Didn’t she know Diana was blackmailing the US government? Apparently not-or at least the feds don’t think so.

My guess is she didn’t know. But who am I to judge? This lady fooled me twenty times over.

“You got caught in a tough situation,” I say. “No hard feelings. Move on with your life, Anne.” I consider a hug, or extending my hand, but nothing makes sense. It will probably be a long time, in fact, before any of this fully makes sense to me.

So I just walk away as warm rain drops on my shoulders.