I look to the chief.
He will have to tell his story publically.
I say, “It’s time. Stand up. Turn around. Put both hands behind your back.”
“You’re making a big mistake, Ballinger.”
“Danny.” Stella is crying into her hands and pleading with me not to take her husband, even when she discovers a pair of red Milanos overturned on the hardwood floor next to the stone hearth.
She looks to Barton and asks the inevitable question, “Whose are these? And why does it smell like smoke in here?”
He doesn’t answer, and I walk him out the front door to a block of gawking neighbors and police officers waiting for him in the street.
Before I leave, I want to tell Stella about the young brunette woman who I saw driving away from the house in a blue Honda when I arrived at the house earlier.
But she already knows.
She’s known about his infidelity for a long time.12
One week later
Police Chief Charged in Double Homicide.