by Regan Black
“We need to see Nicole Mabry,” Frankel said. “Could you send her out please?”
“Just a moment.” Trying to remember if Nicole had been dressed, Kyle headed back to the kitchen. She’d finished nursing and now had the baby on her shoulder, burping him. She wore a pair of cotton shorts under her T-shirt and what must have been a nursing bra.
“There are two sheriff’s deputies out front who want to see you,” he said. “Maybe they’ve got some news on your husband’s murder.”
She gave a slow nod. Still burping Jacob, she hurried to the front door.
“Ms. Mabry,” Frankel said, appearing uncomfortable for the first time as he took in the baby. “I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the sheriff’s department.”
“Now?” she asked, looking from one man to the other.
“Yes, ma’am. Now.”
“Is she under arrest?” Kyle asked, not liking the way they were treating her.
“Not yet,” Perkins spoke up, the grim set of his jaw letting Kyle know he took his job seriously.
“I don’t think—” Starting to argue, Kyle stopped when Nicole place her hand on his upper arm.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “Kyle, will you watch the baby?”
On the verge of insisting he go with her, Kyle remembered her earlier words, when she’d let him know clearly that he shouldn’t do stuff for her. “I’ll watch Jacob,” he replied, for once ignoring his instinct. “But if you need me, promise me you’ll call.”
“I will.” And she left, walking between the two deputies. Kyle watched as they helped her into the backseat, wondering what had happened now.
* * *
Nicole waited until they’d pulled away from Kyle’s house before asking what was going on.
“The sheriff wants to see you,” Deputy Perkins, who rode in the passenger seat, replied. He glanced back over his shoulder at her. His sunglasses made it impossible to read his expression.
She guessed she’d find out what was going on in a few minutes.
When they pulled up at the sheriff’s department building downtown, the two deputies escorted her one on each side, making her feel uncomfortably like a prisoner. They flanked her all the way inside and down the hall to Sheriff Cantrell’s office.
Once inside, she stopped short, stunned to see Theresa Mabry seated in one of the chairs across from the desk. The older woman glared at her, making it plain she found this entire thing distasteful. Nicole looked from her to Sheriff Cantrell, who’d stood when she’d entered.
“Sit,” he said, waving her to the empty chair next to Theresa.
Stiffly, Nicole sat. Her former mother-in-law appeared to have aged ten years. She’d stopped coloring her hair, and now the brown had become liberally speckled with gray. New lines had appeared on her face as well as dark circles under both eyes. She’d always had perfectly manicured fingernails, but now they were unpainted and ragged, as if she’d been chewing on them. Nicole couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.
Theresa caught her looking and shot her a death glare.
Sheriff Cantrell cleared his throat. “I invited you both here today because I wanted to discuss the murder investigation on Bill’s death.”
“She doesn’t have any right to be in this room.” Theresa jumped to her feet. “I don’t want her here.”
“Theresa,” the sheriff replied, his tone calm and steady. “Nicole was Bill’s wife. She has just as much right to be here as you do.”
Nicole braced herself for Theresa to spew a string of insults. Instead, Theresa sat back down, her mouth a tight line, and said nothing. The rigid stiffness with which she held herself revealed her continuing protest.
“First up, I’m sorry to inform you, Theresa, that Dan has confessed to breaking into Nicole’s house and setting it on fire.”
“What?” Both Nicole and Theresa spoke simultaneously, with equal amounts of shock.
“But why?” Theresa asked. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“He needed to steal a key that Bill had in his desk. It was to a locker at one of those mailbox places in a strip shopping mall.”
“A locker?” From the bewilderment in the older woman’s voice, she had no idea what any of this meant. Nicole, however, suspected she had a pretty good idea what the sheriff was going to say next.
“Yes. It contained the cash he needed to pay for the next drug shipment. If he wasn’t able to retrieve that cash, someone from the drug cartel would kill him.”
Theresa gasped. “I knew you’d arrested him,” she said, her voice breaking. “But I was positive he’d be cleared and released. All of this is a total shock to me. Now you’re telling me my husband was working with my son and using our trucking company to make money from drugs?” Her voice rose with every word, until she was practically shouting at the end.
To his credit, Sheriff Cantrell didn’t react at all. He sat back in his chair and waited for Theresa to finish. Once she’d wound down, he leaned forward. “He’s given us a written confession, Theresa. I’m sorry.”
“What about Bill’s murder?” Nicole asked. “Have you gotten any leads on that? Have you talked to that woman who called me and claimed to be his mistress?”
“She’s coming in shortly for questioning,” he replied.
“Mistress?” Theresa asked, practically spitting the word at Nicole. “Now you of all people have the nerve to accuse my son of having a mistress? He’s dead. He can’t defend himself.”
At first not sure how to respond, Nicole decided she’d simply tell the truth, as gently as possible. She could see the other woman was suffering a lot of pain. “Her name is Leslie. She called me once. I’m sorry, but I think there’s a lot you didn’t know about your son.”
Facing her down, Theresa raised her hands, which she’d clenched into fists. “You have a lot of nerve,” she began.
“Ladies,” Sheriff Cantrell interrupted. “While I strongly suggest the two of you should settle your personal differences, this is not the time nor the place.”
Nicole nodded. Theresa shook her head. “I want nothing to do with this woman.”
“Fine.” The sheriff shrugged. “Then you are free to leave. Go on home, Theresa. We’re not arresting you, not today. You claim you didn’t know anything about the drugs and right now, we have no evidence to show us otherwise.” He stood, fixing her with a stern look. “Just don’t leave town, you hear?”
Face flaming, Theresa managed a quick nod before she slammed out of the office and stormed down the hall toward the exit.
Heaven help her, Nicole actually felt sorry for her former mother-in-law. Theresa Mabry might have a lot of unpleasant qualities, but she’d truly loved her son.
“About this mistress…” For the first time, Sheriff Cantrell actually appeared uncomfortable. “Are you going to cause any problems if I let you two both be in the same room?”
“Problems?” After she asked, Nicole realized what he meant. Most wives would be furious and eager to confront the other woman in their husband’s life. For herself, Nicole sort of wanted to thank her for taking some of Bill’s attention away from her.
Since she knew she couldn’t voice that sentiment out loud to the sheriff, Nicole pretended to seriously consider his question. “I think I’m more curious than anything else,” she finally said. And she truly was curious to see what kind of a woman would willingly choose to be with a man like Bill Mabry.
“Nicole,” the sheriff continued. “Normally, I would do everything in my power to keep you two separate. But my gut instinct is telling me something’s off here. She mentioned that she’d called you. Do you think you could still recognize the voice?”
“I think so. Off how?”
“I’m not sure. She’s giving her statement now. I’ve got two men with her. She actually volunteered to come in for questioning.”
He swallowed, then grimaced. “She claims to know who killed your husband.”
“What?” Nicole sat forward in her chair. “I’m surprised you’re telling me this. Especially since you didn’t say anything to Theresa.” And she knew since he went to the same church, he and his family were close to the Mabry family.
“I was afraid if I did, Theresa might come unhinged.” With a self-conscious smile, he consulted a piece of paper. “Anyway, Brenda Meroni will be with us shortly.”
“Brenda?” Confused, Nicole eyed him. “You must be mistaken. The woman who called me said her name was Leslie.” Maybe there actually were two mistresses. That would explain why Leslie had said Bill hadn’t given her any jewelry.
He frowned. “Are you sure? Because this woman’s name is not Leslie. It’s Brenda.”
“What? That makes no sense.” Nicole stared. “The only explanation I can come up with is that she gave me a fake name. I wonder why?”
“You can ask her once she’s finished making her statement. The difference in names only adds to my feeling that something is definitely off.”
Now she understood what he meant. In fact, it might be entirely possible that Brenda Meroni might actually be the one who’d killed Bill.
A few minutes later, a uniformed deputy came into the sheriff’s office. “She’s finished with her statement,” he said. “Are you ready for her?”
“Yes. Bring her in.”
Nicole took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. A moment later, a short, stout young woman with spiky dark hair entered the room. She wore a low-cut T-shirt and tight, ripped jeans. When she caught sight of Nicole, she stopped short.
“Who is this?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you found the other one.”
Other one? “What other one?” the sheriff asked. Right then, Nicole knew. Her suspicions had been correct.
“The other girlfriend.” Impatience colored Brenda’s voice. “At first, neither of us knew Bill had another one on the side.”
“Not me.” Nicole shook her head. She took a deep breath. “How do you know there’s more than one?”
“Because she contacted me the other day. We’re both masseuses at the same massage parlor, though we work different shifts. That’s how we met Bill. He came in weekly for a massage.”
Nicole hadn’t known that. Of course, the more time that passed since Bill’s death, the more she learned about her husband’s other life.
“So, this other mistress, er girlfriend, called you?” Nicole asked. “How’d you find out about each other?”
“That’s the good part. Apparently, Leslie had the balls to call Bill’s wife. I’m not sure why. The woman’s got to hate her, right? After talking with her, Leslie figured out there had to be at least two of us.”
Something told Nicole that the other woman wasn’t being entirely truthful, though about what, Nicole had no way of knowing. A quick glance at the sheriff revealed he, too, appeared to be studying Brenda more intently.
“That would be when she learned about Bill’s credit card charges for flowers and lingerie and jewelry,” Nicole supplied. “Stuff he didn’t buy for her.”
“Right. He bought them for me.” Brenda eyed her with a kind of distant curiosity. “How do you know that? Who are you again?” she asked.
With a rueful grin, Nicole eyed her right back. “My name is Nicole. Nicole Mabry. I’m the wife.”
* * *
Driving back to Kyle’s house forty-five minutes later, Nicole reflected on how much like a soap opera her life had become. And now this. Her former husband, the man she’d been planning to leave as soon as possible, had actually had two mistresses. Had one of them actually killed him?
Her phone rang just as she pulled into the driveway. It was her insurance agent’s office, calling to inform her that the insurance company would be issuing a check, made jointly to her and to the mortgage company, so she could begin repairs. Which also made for an interesting situation, since Nicole had no idea where she was going to get the money for the next house payment. Since Bill had cleaned out their bank accounts and Nicole didn’t have a job, she could barely afford to feed herself and her son.
Her mother had offered to help, so maybe she’d be willing to loan Nicole enough to pay the mortgage. Once the necessary repairs had been made, Nicole realized she’d need to sell the house and purchase something smaller and less fancy. Hopefully there’d be enough equity to enable her to do that. Otherwise, she had no idea how she’d survive.
Kyle opened the front door before she even reached it. He held little Jacob in one arm, the baby’s small head resting in the crook of his elbow. Jacob grinned and gurgled when he saw his mama, which melted Nicole’s heart.
Instinctively she reached to take her son, but Kyle shook his head. “He’s good with me,” he said. “I like that he doesn’t mind me holding him.”
Even though her insides turned to mush, she managed to calmly nod.
Once inside the living room, he took a seat on the couch. Gus jumped up next to him and settled with his head resting trustingly on Kyle’s leg. Nicole took the chair opposite them, wondering if Kyle felt the same sense of coziness. Inhaling deeply, she told him everything that had transpired at the sheriff’s office.
He listened, his expression thoughtful while he rocked Jacob. “It sounds like Theresa Mabry is coming unhinged.”
“I actually feel bad for her,” Nicole confessed. “She’s an awful woman, but she’s in so much pain.”
“Maybe so, but she could be dangerous. I think you need to keep an eye out for her and be careful.”
She promised him she would and then told him about her insurance agent’s call. Because he’d been so kind and helpful, letting her stay with him and feeding her without asking for anything in return, she didn’t feel right about burdening him with her money worries.
“Once your house is repaired, you’ll be moving back there,” he said, his face as expressionless as his tone.
“Right.” Saying the words made her feel as if her heart might be breaking. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a time line or anything. I need to get a few estimates, and then I’ll have a better idea of how long the work will take.”
He nodded and then glanced down at Jacob, who had fallen asleep. The tenderness in his face as he gazed at their son filled Nicole with so much love, she felt as if she might burst.
She cleared her throat, hoping for a steady voice. “Since he’s asleep, you can put him down in his bed if you want. Just make sure he’s lying on his back. That’s the safest way for infants to sleep.”
“Thanks, but he seems comfortable right here and I’m enjoying holding him. If you don’t mind, I’d really like to continue.” He leaned back, the sunlight from the window catching his hair.
If she’d have dared, she’d have liked to pull out her cell and snap a picture. Because this moment, right here, right now, was what she’d dreamed of from the first time she’d met Kyle Benning. Being with him and their child—a family. Together.
Something she clearly would never have.
“I met Bill’s mistress,” she said, trying to put herself back on firmer ground. “And learned he apparently had more than one. The girl I met today was named Brenda. There’s another girl named Leslie. Apparently they’re now at each other’s throats. The sheriff questioned Brenda and is bringing in Leslie too.”
“Interesting. What’s he hoping to learn from them?”
She took a deep breath. “Who actually murdered Bill. If the sheriff presses, I’m thinking that Brenda will probably accuse Leslie. And I’m willing to bet Leslie will point the finger right back at Brenda. It could have been either one of them.” She thought for a moment. “Or possibly even both.”
CHAPTER 16
Glad of the change in topic, Kyle pretended to consider Nicole’s words. In reality, he cared very little about
who’d actually murdered Bill Mabry, unless they meant to harm Nicole and Jacob. Since someone clearly did, the sooner the sheriff arrested that person, the better.
Kyle had survived a lot of horrible things. Losing his unit, nearly losing his life, months of rehab learning to make his brain work again. Flashbacks and nightmares that had nearly broken him. Yet they hadn’t. Because he understood all too well now what he had to live for.
Yes, he recognized his own strength. He knew how to overcome just about every situation fate could throw at him. But the one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d never make it through would be if something happened to his son, Jacob, and Nicole. This, having all of them under one roof, gave him a sense of what his life could have been like, should have been like. False hope? Maybe. Or simply a tantalizing glimpse into the possibilities of a future as a family.
If he could just get his act together, that is. He’d seen the way Nicole’s expression had softened as she watched him holding their son. He also couldn’t forget the fear mingled with pity in her eyes when she’d witnessed him during one of his episodes. The last thing he’d ever want to do would be to hurt her while in the grip of night-terror-induced flashbacks. She’d need to learn to stay away when those occurred. Far, far away.
Surely, with time, he could learn to manage with the help of therapy. Therapy and his loyal companion Gus, who woke when Kyle woke, remaining right by Kyle’s side, letting him know he wasn’t alone.
He’d never been so grateful for having a dog. Gus didn’t care about reasons or logistics. Gus simply was there.
Kyle wondered how he could feel like two people sometimes. He liked who he was right this instant—Jacob’s daddy, Nicole’s lover, Gus’s owner. Being that man filled him with a joyous sort of peace. And a tentative sort of hope for the future.
And then there was the other Kyle. The one who mostly only came out in the dead of the night. The broken soldier who’d let all his buddies die in an explosion. If the guilt and the shame weren’t bad enough, he’d been cursed to continually relive the terror in nightmares, over and over again. He despised that man, and once again Kyle hoped the steps he’d taken would begin to help heal him.
