Standing in front of the mirror, Kier slowly pulled off his bandage. His nose was still swollen, his left eye was puffy and black, his other a dull collage of purple, green, and yellow. For a minute he just looked at himself. “How many people have wanted to do that to you?” He put the bandage back on.
He took his phone out of his pocket. He looked at it for a moment, then pushed speed dial. A woman whose voice he didn’t recognize answered. “Kier residence.”
“Is Sara there?”
“I’m sorry, she’s not available right now. May I take a message?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Beth, Sara’s sister. May I take a message?”
Beth was Sara’s only sister and Steve’s mother. Kier hoped Steve hadn’t told her about how he’d treated him through the divorce’s legal wrangling but guessed he had. “This is James.”
“Jim,” she said coolly. “You don’t sound like Jim.”
“I’ve got . . . a cold.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk to Sara.”
“Over my dead body,” she said coldly.
“That would be nice, Beth, but it’s beside the point. I need to talk to Sara.”
“No, you can’t.”
“You can’t stop me. She’s my wife.”
“Since I’m holding the phone, yes I can stop you, and no, she’s not your wife. At least not anymore. You’ve been pretty clear about that.”
She had a point about the phone. “Come on, Beth, just let me talk to her.”
“Haven’t you hurt her enough? You just leave her alone.” Beth slammed down the phone.
Kier flipped his cell phone shut. Now what?
