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The Woods

“How would they have gotten their information?”

“Hard to say.”

“Any thoughts?”

She mulled it over for a few moments. “Like I said before, this is how they operate. They want to stir something up. It doesn’t matter if it’s the truth or not. Sometimes you need to shift reality. Do you know what I mean?”

“No, not really.”

“How to explain…?” Cingle thought about it a moment. “When I first got to MVD, do you know what I was hired to do?”

I shook my head.

“Catch cheating spouses. It’s big business—adultery. My own firm too. It used to be forty percent, maybe more. And MVD is the best at it, though their methods are a tad unorthodox.”

“How?”

“Depends on the case, but the first step was always the same: Read the client. In other words, see what the client really wants. Do they want the truth? Do they want to be lied to? Do they want reassurance, a way to get a divorce, what?”

“I’m not following. Don’t they all want the truth?”

“Yes and no. Look, I hated that end of the business. I didn’t mind surveillance or background checks—you know, following a husband or wife, checking out credit card charges, phone records, that kind of thing. That’s all a tad seedy, but I get that. It makes sense. But then there’s this other side of the business.”

“What other side?”

“The side that wants there to be a problem. Some wives, for example, want their husbands to be cheating.”

I looked at Muse. “I’m lost.”

“No, you’re not. A man is supposed to be faithful forever, right? I know this one guy. I’m talking to him on the phone—this is before we ever met face-to-face—and he’s telling me how he would never, ever cheat, how he loves his wife, blah, blah, blah. But the guy is some ugly slob who works as an assistant manager at a CVS or something—so I’m thinking to myself, ‘Who is going to come on to him?’ Right?”

“I’m still not following.”

“It is easier to be a good, honorable guy when there is no temptation. But in cases like that, MVD would shift reality. By using me as bait.”

“For what?”

“For what do you think? If a wife wanted to nail her husband for cheating, my job would be to seduce him. That’s how MVD worked. The husband would be at a bar or something. They would send me out as a”—she made quote marks with her fingers—“fidelity test.”

“So?”

“So I hate to sound immodest, but take a look.” Cingle spread her arms. Even dressed down in a loose sweater, the sight was indeed impressive. “If that’s not unfair entrapment, I don’t know what is.”

“Because you’re attractive?”

“Yep.”

I shrugged. “If the guy’s committed, it shouldn’t make a difference how attractive the woman is.”

Cingle Shaker made a face. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Are you being intentionally dense? How hard do you think it would be for me to get Mr. CVS, for example, to look in my direction?”

“To look is one thing. To do more than that is another.”

Cingle looked at Muse. “Is he for real?”

Muse shrugged.

“Let me put it this way,” Cingle said. “I probably ran, oh, thirty or forty of these so-called fidelity tests. Guess how many married guys turned me down?”

“I have no idea.”

“Two.”

“Not great stats, I admit—”

“Wait, I didn’t finish. The two that turned me down? Do you know why?”

“No.”

“They caught on. They realized something had to be up. They were both like, ‘Wait, why would a woman who looks like this be coming on to me?’ They saw the trap—that’s why they didn’t go through with it. Does that make them better than the other guys?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“They didn’t go through with it.”

“But shouldn’t the why matter? One guy might say no because he’s scared he’ll get caught. Does that make him any more moral than the guy who isn’t scared? Maybe the guy who isn’t scared loves his wife more. Maybe he’s a better husband and more committed. Maybe the other guy wants to screw around like crazy but he’s so meek and timid that he can’t go through with it.”

“So?”

“So fear—not love, not wedding vows, not commitment—is the only thing keeping him honest. So which guy is better? Is it the act or the heart?”

“Heavy questions, Cingle.”

“What’s your take, Mr. Prosecutor?”

“Exactly. I’m a prosecutor. It’s all about the actions.”

“The actions define us?”

“In legal terms, yes.”

“So the guy who is too scared to go through with it—he’s clean?”

“Yep. He didn’t go through with it. The why is besides the point. No one says he has to maintain his vow out of love. Fear might be as good a reason as any.”

“Wow,” she said. “I disagree.”

“Fair enough. But is there a point to this?”

“The point is this: MVD wants dirt. Any way they can get it. If the current reality isn’t providing any—read: if the husband isn’t already cheating—they’ll shift the reality—read: get someone like me to hit on the husband. Do you get it now?”

“I think so. I not only have to be careful about what I might have done, but what I look like I’m doing or appear to be doing or might get entrapped into doing.”

“Bingo.”

“And you have no idea who provided them with the information in that journal?”

“Not yet. But hey, you’ve now hired me to do counterespionage. Who knows what I’ll come up with?” She stood. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, Cingle, I think that covers it.”

“Cool. By the way, I have my bill here for the Jenrette-Marantz case. Who should I give it to?”

Muse said, “I’ll take it.”

Cingle handed it to her and smiled at me. “I liked watching you in court, Cope. You nailed those sons of bitches but good.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” I said.

“Nah. I’ve seen a lot of prosecutors. You’re the real deal.”

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