Our Husband (a humorous romantic mystery) (37 page)

words, and sheer nerve, considering the song was supposed to be sung by a woman. But the crowd was either too polite or too

drunk or too hungry to throw their food, and he received a respectable smattering of applause as he left the stage.

"Wha'dja think?" he asked as he dropped into his seat.

"Nashville's loss," she managed to say, still tingling with embarrassment for the clueless man. But at least the performance

had sobered her enough to come up with a story. "Listen, um, Chub, I'm looking for a friend of mine and I was told you could

help me out."

"I'll sure try."

"I was supposed to meet Raymond Carmichael here, but he didn't show."

His eyes widened, then he shook his head. "I hate to tell you this, little lady, but Raymond's dead."

She feigned surprise. "Dead?"

"Yep. Murdered by his three wives."

"Three wives?"

"Yep. Man was married to all three of them at the same time, can you believe it? I've got one and that's e—" He stopped,

realizing he'd almost spilled the beans on his marital status. "I mean, uh—"

"Oh, that's just terrible." She made a face. "Raymond was going to introduce me to a friend of his, a lady he said could get

me a job."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"I... make things. I'm sorry about Raymond, but I
have
to talk to this woman, and I don't know her name. Would you have

seen them together? She might be a local."

"I don't know who she could be." He snapped his pudgy fingers. "Wait a minute! I saw Raymond the night before he died,

right here. He'd been after me for months to sign a deal with his company—I'm the head of a big medical center in town—and I

finally agreed." He frowned. "At least I think I did—we were both plenty drunk."

She gave him an encouraging smile, but her heart pounded in anticipation.

"Anyway, since I'd picked him up at the hotel, I offered him a lift back, but he said he already had a ride." He grinned.

"Good thing, too, since I ended up taking a cab. But from the look Raymond gave me, he was going to get lucky."

She swallowed. "Did you see who he left with?"

"Nah. He left the bar alone, and was still standing outside when my cab came. But when my cab pulled away, I looked

back and saw him getting into a car."

She tried to be calm. "What kind of car?"

"Red Ford Taurus, looked like a rental." He shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't see the face of the driver."

She wrote down her cell number on a napkin. "Will you call this number if you find out who she is? I simply have to find

this woman—Raymond promised me she had the position of a lifetime."

"Okay," he said, stuffing the napkin into his pocket. He pointed his pinkie toward the stage. "Wanna sing a duet with me?

Do you know 'The Woman in Me'?"

"Um, no. Thanks for the drink." She pumped his hand and grinned like a fool, hoping the man would come through for her

with a name, but doubting it. She looked over his head for Beatrix and Ruby, found them, then jerked her head toward the

bathroom.

"Okay," Chub said, then gave her a hopeful smile. "See you around?"

"Definitely," she said, then made a beeline for the john. Well, her bee was a little inebriated, so it took longer than she'd

planned, wobbling and fending off a handful of invitations to dance and share a table. The women were waiting inside, feet

tapping.

"Well?" Beatrix asked. "What did you find out?"

Natalie sighed. "Not much." She repeated Chub's bits of info as they listened.

"So," Beatrix said, "all we have to go on is a red car? The woman isn't from around here if she's driving a rental."

"Maybe her car's in the shop," Natalie said with a shrug.

"Or maybe she doesn't want her real car to be spotted," Ruby suggested.

"At least we have something to go on," Natalie said. "We can check out the rental places tomorrow."

Ruby looked at her watch. "It's too early to go back to the hotel, but I don't want to stay here—it's kind of creepy being

where Ray was. Let's check out that dance place we passed on the way here."

"I don't dance," Beatrix said. "At least not to that freaky new music."

"Oh, come on, let's have some fun." Ruby shook her booty for encouragement.

"I said, I don't dance."

"We can drop you off at the hotel," Natalie suggested, not about to squander what might be her last weekend of freedom.

Beatrix inhaled and exhaled deeply. "All right—only because I refuse to spend the evening with a damn dog. But I
don't

dance."

"We won't laugh," Ruby said, her expression sincere.

"I don't think I should drive," Natalie said, holding the keys out to Ruby. "Can you?"

"Gee, I've never driven anything but a stick shift, but I'll try." She skipped ahead to the parking lot.

Beatrix crossed herself. Natalie laughed and pulled her in the direction of the Cherokee.

Chapter 34

When Natalie pulled under the carport Sunday in the early afternoon, her chest felt lighter and her head clearer than in

ages. The weekend adventure that she'd embarked upon with such trepidation had turned into the emotional and physical

release she hadn't even realized she needed. After leaving Razor's Friday night, Ruby had driven (and she used the term

loosely) to the dance club, where they had partied like the loose women they weren't. Beatrix had discovered that she could

dance after all. Ruby had discovered that she could dance with her clothes on. And Natalie had discovered that she could

dance without a partner.

They'd fallen into their room late and laughing, she and Ruby and the pooch shared one bed, Beatrix sprawled across the

other. But she and Ruby had both gotten a kick out of waking up to find Miss Mame curled snugly around Beatrix's shoulder.

Still determined to track down the rose lady, they had checked with the three local car rentals, which revealed nothing. At a

loss what to do next, they elected to kill the day shopping—Beatrix had sprung for makeovers at a Clinique counter—before

taking in a chick flick and gorging on popcorn.

This morning they'd slept in before piling into the Cherokee and heading home. They'd passed the time exchanging stories

about their courtships with Raymond, his good and bad habits, even his idiosyncrasies in bed.

"Lights on," Beatrix said.

"Socks on," Natalie added.

"Toupee on," Ruby said, and Natalie had run off the road.

"I didn't know he wore a toupee," she and Beatrix had cried in unison.

"It was a good one," the young woman offered.

All in all, it had been a very....
satisfying
weekend. They had gathered enough evidence, in her opinion, to warrant a

meeting with Aldrich and the D.A. as soon as possible. And despite their marked differences in age and personality, they'd

actually, well... gotten along. Attributed, most probably, to the fact that they had more in common right now than any three

women on the planet.

Tony wasn't home, although she didn't mind the quiet of the big house since she was fatigued from driving. He'd left a note

on the table, though, asking her to call him at the pawnshop when she got home. Remembering that Brian didn't work on

weekends, she judged it safe to call and punched in the number.

"Butler Family Pawn, Brian speaking."

She hung up. Tony was probably busy anyway.

The phone rang, and she winced, but answered. "Hello?"

"So you're home," Brian said, his voice smiling. "I recognized the number."

"I thought you didn't work weekends."

"I just stopped by to pick up a deposit. Are you free?"

"If you mean am I not in jail at the moment, then yes."

"Good, because I was thinking about driving to Shakerag to check out an estate jewelry sale, and I'd like a second

opinion."

"On whether you should go? Absolutely, go."

He laughed. "On the jewelry. I can pick you up in ten minutes."

"I thought you were Mr. Mom on the weekends."

"The girls went to my mother's house for a few days."

"That's nice."

"How about it? I could use the company."

"But I just walked in the door. I'm tired. And cranky."

"You can sleep on the way if you want."

"I snore."

"That's okay, I'm hard of hearing."

"You must be."

"Wear comfortable clothes." Then he hung up.

She hesitated ten seconds before bounding up the stairs.

Thirty minutes later, they were on their way to Shakerag. "My father always told me not to trust men who drove vans."

He smiled. "I'll add that to my list of things to tell Ally and Jeanie."

Their photos were taped to the dashboard of the dilapidated van, both grinning, one front-toothless. "You miss them."

"Not sure what I did before they were with me. Life has a way of forcing you into situations that make you a better

person."

"Is that my pep talk for the day?"

"No. I didn't figure you'd need one after a weekend of peace and quiet."

"You're right."

"Good." He tilted his head at her. "Whatever you did, it put some color in your cheeks."

"I could be running a fever," she said, willing away the blush.

"Guess that means another kiss is out of the question."

She dragged her gaze from him and looked out the window. "I wouldn't be much of a doctor if I started an epidemic."

His laugh boomed around them. "So, what were you really doing this weekend?"

"That's none of your business."

"You're right, but I'd like to know. I might be jealous."

He was so ridiculous, she couldn't suppress her smile.

"Whatever that thought is," he said, "hold it for the rest of the day."

"I didn't realize I was such a morose person."

"Understandable, but temporary, I hope. Did you change your hair?"

"No."

"It looks good."

"Thanks."

The blush held fast for the remainder of the drive, and while they inspected the hodgepodge of jewelry at the out-of-the-

way estate sale. "What do you think?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Well, I don't know much about jewelry, but the sapphire tennis bracelet is nice."

"Excellent eye." He picked it up, along with six other pieces and paid a man after some good-natured dickering. She

watched him, fascinated at the easy way he had with people. They gravitated toward him.
She
gravitated toward him.

On the way back, they picked up chicken salad sandwiches from a hole-in-the-wall grocery and ate them sitting on the

grass at a roadside park.

"This weekend I went to find out about someone else Raymond might have been involved with," she confessed.

"Does this have anything to do with the ladies' watch?"

"You knew?"

"Pretty coincidental that Mrs. Carmichael discovered the watch, asked to hang on to it for a few days, and then you

disappeared. I figured you were either chasing down information or had sold the watch and both of you split." He grinned. "I

was really hoping you hadn't split."

"Because I owe you so much money?"

"Because you owe it to yourself to see your name cleared."

She smiled. "Hopefully that will be sooner than later."

"You found this woman?"

"No, but enough leads, I think, to get the police off our backs."

"So both other wives went too?"

Natalie nodded.

"What a motley crew."

"As strange as it sounds, I actually enjoyed myself."

"Now that I'd like to see."

"What?"

"You enjoying yourself."

The air was summer-sweet, the sun beating down. Natalie chewed her sandwich slowly and studied the big, handsome

man sitting across from her. "Then take a look at me now."

"I've been looking." His Adam's apple bobbed. "I missed you."

She tried to laugh, but failed. "I was only gone for a couple of days."

"You're habit-forming."

And to her dismay, his face had been hovering less than a split second away from her mind over the past few days, too.

Natalie shook her head and looked away. "This is crazy."

"What? Being honest? I'm not very good at playing games."

She glanced back. "I mean this—" She gestured vaguely between them. "Is too soon."

"I'm getting old and wise. When I find something good, I don't keep browsing."

Natalie sighed. "Brian, you know what I've been through—what I'm still going through. I'm not exactly in the most healthy

frame of mind here."

He abandoned his sandwich and leaned forward to brush her cheek with his thumb. "I figure that's the only way I have any