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intense affair.
    When he met Rozanne, Gailiunas was dating someone else, but he quickly terminated that arrangement so he could devote more time to the dark-haired nurse. However, for at least several weeks after the beginning of their affair, he was not aware of the fact that Rozanne was already married. By the time she got around to telling him, she added that she had filed for a divorce and would soon be free.
    Within a few months they had decided to move to Dallas and get married. It was a decision that Rozanne, at least, would learn to regret.
    Rozanne, who had lived all her life in leafy, wet, and chilly New England, was not prepared for the heat, the humidity, the relative barrenness of the North Texas prairie. Dallas’s only saving grace, as far as she was concerned, was her job at Parkland. But that did not last long. She had been at the hospital only three months when she got pregnant. After their son was born six weeks prematurely in 1979, Gailiunas encouraged her to quit. She complied, but soon afterward their marriage began a definite downhill slide. The decision to have Larry Aylor build them a grand new house—a dream house—was an attempt to salvage the relationship. The result would be a tragedy.
    After the fateful lunch in 1983 when each learned that the other was in the throes of a collapsing marriage, Larry and Rozanne began seeing each other regularly, slipping away for trysts when they could, and making do with hurried telephone conversations when they could not. In no time at all, the relationship evolved from a need for mutual consolation over their individual marital problems to a steamy romance.
    Early in June, Larry decided to move out of the Arbor Trail house he shared with Joy into an apartment on Fair Oaks Crossing, less than two miles away. When he told Joy he was leaving, she dashed out of the house in tears and sped away. She drove to White Rock Lake, an oasis in the center of thickly populated East Dallas, and pulled into a parking space along the shore. She was sitting there, she told Larry later, crying like a six-year-old who had just dropped her ice cream cone, when a male jogger stopped and asked her if everything was all right. She replied that it was; that she was only broken up because her husband had just told her he was leaving. The two started chatting and the man asked her to have dinner with him.
    “Thanks,” Joy said, smiling through her tears, “but I’m not ready for that yet.”
    “Well,” the man told her, “when you think you’re in the mood, give me a call.” Borrowing a piece of paper from her, he wrote out his name and phone number and handed it back to her.
    A couple of days later, when Larry was packing for his move to the apartment, Joy walked by and he noticed something in her hand.
    “What’s that?” he asked, grabbing her arm.
    “Nothing,” she said, clenching her fist.
    Larry looked at her and smiled. “I think you’ve got a boyfriend,” he said.
    Many years later, Larry suspected that the stranger Joy had met on the shore of White Rock Lake was a plumbing contractor named Jodie Packer.
    Days after he moved out, Larry filed for a divorce.
    Less than a week after that, Rozanne also left Peter Gailiunas. Taking her young son with her, she moved into a three-bedroom rental house at 804 Loganwood Drive in Richardson, a North Dallas bedroom community of about seventy thousand people.
    Following Larry’s example, Rozanne also filed for divorce, using Larry’s lawyer to prepare the papers. And, as soon as she was out from under Gailiunas’s spell, she took a part-time job as a nurse in a pediatrician’s office.
    Although Gailiunas had suspected for some weeks that there was another man in Rozanne’s life, he was slower to realize that it was Larry. One day when the two were hunting birds on Larry’s Kaufman County ranch, several weeks before Rozanne moved out, Gailiunas confided to the contractor that he thought Rozanne was seeing someone