Dean said nothing and she finally broke the silence. "Jeff is very moral. He has a black and white sense of right and wrong. It's difficult to put in words, but if he were to leave, he'd do it up front-he'd never just sneak away." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry. There's no reason I should expect you to understand. I know you had to ask but I'll save you the next question," she added. "There wasn't another woman...ever."

Dean didn't press the point. He was curious why she was so emphatic and he didn't even consider mentioning the wife was the last to know.

She seemed to read his mind and smiled. "We just didn't have secrets-at least not the sneaky kind."

"What kind did you have?" he asked with a smile.

She paused. "None about important things. Sometimes Jeff had this notion about protecting me from anything unpleasant. It infuriates me, but he keeps doing it-some macho thing, I guess. When there is a problem at work, he keeps it to himself or mini­mize it. Jeff does kind things for people, sometimes to a fault, but he seldom talks about it."

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"What sort of things?"

"Picking up a hitch-hiker, giving a homeless person a dollar- things like that. He says he doesn't want me to worry. But impor­tant things, like his health or our budget or Randy-those we share."

Dean continued with the rest of his questions and she dutiful­ly responded. Sometimes she answered as if she were alone, talk­ing out loud, reminiscing, remembering the tiniest of details of a life now forever changed.

Most of their friends were local to Maid Marian Lane where they had lived for nine years. Slowly a portrait of the missing man emerged. Jeff Byrne had worked for World Wide for 15 years and seemed at least content with the work he was doing. His health was excellent and he had never expressed more than mild dis­pleasure with his lot in life. Between job, commuting and home life there was little extra time. Nor did he personally have access to much money. Cynthia Byrne handled the finances.

"Jeff was terrible with money. I handled the checkbook from the very first. I don't remember us ever not being on a tight budg­et. Jeff doesn't make much, but we make do, and he's tickled pink to let me do the paper work." She named a salary figure close to the small amount Dean drew from the Parkside Police Department. He could imagine the difficulty in supporting a fam­ily of three on the figure.

The Byrne family had finally scraped aside enough for Cynthia to go back to school. She was close to completing training to become a physical therapist and would graduate at the end of the summer. The second income would be a must if Randy were to attend college. Otherwise, it had looked as if further education was out of the question.




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