IT WAS A LONG DRIVE by 
"He is dead." Francine said, her eyes bright in the rearview mirror. I nodded and dropped my eyes. My knuckles stood out on the steering wheel as I maneuvered through the busy road.
"You are not going to say anything? You murderer!" She yelled.
She was hysterical now; Valium; she would need Valium and maybe a shot of whiskey.
I avoided a bus which grazed my rear-end and disappeared in the night.
I glanced at the mirror again. She was looking at Davies. She has never looked at me like that. She raised her head and I dropped my eyes to the road.
"Did you love him?" I asked.
"Love? He knew what to do with me." she replied, frowning.
What did she mean?
I glanced at the mirror but Francine was staring out the window, her eyes wide. I turned to see the flashing lights of a police car.