The First Wife (18 page)

He shook his head. “Logan Abbott hasn’t been in here since … hell, not since his first
wife ran off. They used to come in sometimes and dance.” He brought his coffee cup
to his lips but didn’t sip. “Besides, I hear he was in the hospital all night. His
new wife was in some sort of riding accident.”

The perfect alibi.

Or the perfect way to catch him in a lie. With cell phone records or the hospital’s
security video. Problem was, at this point a judge would deny any request for a search
warrant. Which meant the cell carrier was out. He may, however, be able to sweet-talk
the hospital into a little peek.

He returned his focus to the interview at hand. “Can you remember anything else about
Dixie from that night? Anything that jumps out at you?”

He thought a moment. “Just that her Mustang was in the lot when we left.”

“You didn’t find that strange?”

“Nope. It wasn’t the first time, if you know what I mean.”

“Even when it was still there yesterday?”

“Nope.”

“Did you check the car out, take a look inside, anything like that?”

Ricky shook his head. “Like I said, wasn’t the first time. Although I don’t believe
it’s ever still been here this long.”

Billy Ray nodded and stood. “Joe said I could look at Friday night’s surveillance
video. Mind if I do that now?”

“Not at all. I’ll get you set up in his office.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Sunday, April 20

3:30
P.M.

Dr. Bauer had released Bailey. Now, as they neared the farm, she asked Logan to lower
the windows. “I want to smell the air,” she said. “Then I’ll know I’m almost home.”

The fresh, warm breeze rushed into the car, whipping at her hair. She breathed it
in, letting it fill her senses and chase away the institutional smell of the hospital.

The neurologist had warned her not to expect too much of herself at first. She had
suffered a brain trauma, she needed time to heal. He had assured her the memory of
what happened would return, and had cautioned her not to try and force it.

“Just let it happen, Mrs. Abbott.”

Easy for him to say, she thought. It wasn’t a piece of his life that had gone missing.
It wasn’t him existing in this constant state of uneasiness. As if some terrible surprise
lurked up ahead, one she couldn’t predict—or avoid.

They reached the iron gates and rolled through. “Welcome home, Bailey.”

Weirdly, even her memory hadn’t prepared her for how beautiful it was. The rolling
green hills and blue sky, the white fencing and azalea bushes, exploding with pink,
white and fuchsia blossoms. The horses, with their rich brown coats shimmering in
the sun.

Bailey let its magic wash over her, the memory of her antiseptic hospital room fading
away.

The barn and arena came into view. Jo-Jo and Max, the chocolate Lab and corgi, trotted
out to greet them. She didn’t see Tony and asked Logan about him.

“He’s fine.” Logan squeezed her hand. “Stephanie has him.”

A moment later, Paul appeared, followed by August.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

The men watched them roll past, hands lifted in greeting.

“They were worried about you. Everyone was.”

“Even Raine?”

He smiled. “You are feeling better.”

“Wind and Raine—” she said.

“Thunder and lightning,” he finished, and they both laughed.

“Do they know?” she asked.

“The details of the accident?”

She shook her head. “About the baby.”

“No. No one knows but you, me and the medical staff.”

“Thank you.”

They came upon the second set of gates, and Logan drove slowly through. Moments later,
she stepped out of the car and stood a moment, drinking it in with all her senses.
As if they had been newly awakened. The smell of earth and plants, the sun warming
them. The rustle of the leaves and chirp of the birds. The trickling of the fountain.

She held out her hand. “Home.”

He took it. “Our home.”

“I want to see it all again. Just to know I remember it. Do you think that’s weird?”

He smiled. “I think it’s nice.”

So, they went from room to room, the country-style kitchen and keeping room, the formal
living room and Logan’s study. Bailey stopped in front of the portrait of his mother.
“You look exactly like her.”

“That’s what you said the first time you saw it.”

“I know.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. “And I really meant it.”

He laughed and together they headed upstairs, holding hands. In their bedroom Bailey
stopped, her gaze on the bed.

The bed they shared. Husband and wife. She recalled how it felt to lie there, enclosed
in his arms. Warm and protected. She brought a hand to her abdomen, to the life growing
inside her.

“What are you thinking?”

“About us. Making love, creating this baby. Here. In this bed.”

Tears stung her eyes and feeling silly, Bailey turned quickly and crossed to the balcony
doors. She stepped through them and gazed out beyond the wall, to the woods beyond.

Her accident. Henry, shot dead
. Emotion choked her.

He followed her and drew her snugly back against his chest. “To keep you warm,” he
murmured, resting his chin on her head.

This was where she’d seen Henry for the first time. With her mind’s eye she saw him
walking along the path, Tony, with him, running ahead, circling back.

Henry, with his scarred face and kind eyes. His ready smile and childlike wisdom.
With a heart as wide as the sky.

Her friend. Shot dead.

Dead, she realized, the truth of it swamping her, bitterly real. She brought a hand
to her mouth. “No. It can’t be. Not Henry, he … I can’t—” She started to cry, great,
wracking sobs of despair.

Logan turned her in his arms and held her against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby,” he
murmured over and over, rubbing her back. “So sorry.”

She cried until her eyes burned and her throat ached, until she hadn’t the energy
for more. “I’m going to miss him so … Just a moment ago, I was thinking how wonderful
it was to remember. How beautiful to reexperience it all. But now … this … I wish
I didn’t remember.” She tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “It hurts, Logan.”

He cupped her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. “I wish
I could take it away.”

“But you can’t. No one can.”

“Why don’t you lie down? You’re tired. I could bring you some tea? And a magazine?”

“The courtyard,” she said. “I need the sun.”

He set her up on one of the chaises. He worried it was chilly, so he brought a blanket
along with her sunglasses and iPhone and a magazine.

“There are a couple of things I have to take care of,” he said. “The office, I’ve
been away—”

“Go. I’m not sick. And I’m not made of glass. Obviously, considering the knock I took
to my head.”

He didn’t smile and she went on. “I’m fine. Really.”

He bent and kissed her. “I’ll be in the study, answering e-mails. Call if you need
anything. Anything. Promise?”

She did, but still he lingered. “Enough, you. Just go—” She waved him off. “I won’t
be able to nap with you hovering like this.”

So he left her. Bailey laid her head back and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift,
like the puffy clouds above.

A sharp sound broke the gentle day.
A gunshot
. Her eyes snapped open, fear gripping her. She looked down at her lap, her hands.

A cry of terror escaped her. Blood. Where had all this blood come from?

“There you are.”

Bailey jerked her head up, and pain shot through it. Raine, standing just inside the
courtyard gate, a huge arrangement of flowers in her arms.

“My God, Bailey, what’s wrong?”

“I was dreaming. I thought … Did you hear a gun go off a moment ago?”

Raine went white. The arrangement slipped from her hands, the vase shattered as it
hit the brick patio floor. “Where’s Logan?”

“His study. Raine, what—”

But the other woman was gone before Bailey could get the words out, running into the
house, calling Logan’s name.

And then it hit her why. No. He couldn’t … he wouldn’t. Panicked, Bailey leaped to
her feet and ran after the other woman. She flew through the kitchen and into the
foyer, then stopped short. She grabbed the banister for support, dizzy, head throbbing.

Logan, alive and well, his sister, clinging to him and shaking. He looked befuddled.

“Raine, it’s okay.” He patted her back, then drew away from her, looking her in the
eyes. “What brought this on? I’m fine.”

“Bailey said she heard a gunshot.”

“I did.” Bailey stepped into his line of sight. “I’d dozed off and it woke me up.”

“When?”

“Just now. Right before Raine arrived.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” He looked at his sister. “Did you?”

She shook her head. “But I had the radio on.”

“I’d better call down to the barn, see if they heard it.” He quickly dialed. “Hey
Paul— Yeah, she’s fine. Look, she was outside and thought she heard a gunshot. You
hear anything down there?” He paused, obviously listening, then nodded. “That’s what
I’m afraid of. If so, it was damn close to the house.” He stopped to listen again.
“I agree. But let me get a little more information from her first. Thanks, man.”

“Did he?” Bailey asked.

“No, but it wouldn’t surprise him if you did. Considering recent events.”

Henry.

“Paul’s going to call the sheriff’s office, but I wanted to get as many details from
you as possible first.”

“The sound awakened me. I opened my eyes and I—”

Saw blood. A lot of blood.

“What?”

She brought a hand to her head. “I don’t feel so good. My head hurts really bad.”

He was by her side in an instant, helping lower her to sit on the stairs. “Deep breath,
baby. Everything’s all right. Just calm down.”

He looked at his sister. “Could you get a cool cloth for the back of her neck?”

Moments later, Raine returned with it and Logan laid it on the back of her neck. “That’s
it,” he said. “Breathe. In your nose, out your mouth.”

She did and after several seconds the pain eased and the dizziness passed. She took
the cloth from her neck. “I feel better now. Thanks.”

“So stop scaring us, please,” Raine said. “I don’t think I can take any more.”

The image of red filled her head. “Logan, I—” Her throat closed over the words; she
cleared it. “I may have remembered something. Or—” She bit the last back, moved her
gaze between Logan and Raine. “Or maybe I was dreaming.”

He curled his fingers around hers. “Tell us.”

“I opened my eyes and saw … blood. On my hands and my jeans.”

“Anything else?”

“No. There was Raine—”

“Having the life scared out of her, thank you very much.”

Logan ignored his sister and squatted in front of Bailey. “You were dreaming,” he
said.

“Why do you think so?”

“I told you about Henry in the hospital and you were really upset about it right before
your nap.”

“But the blood—”

“Remember what Billy Ray said? That you had a lot of blood on you. Of course it was
on your mind.”

That’s right. Of course.

From out front came the slam of a car door. Bailey jumped. She noticed Raine did,
too. The other woman’s nerves seemed to be just as fried as hers.

Raine started toward the door. “Maybe what you heard was me slamming the car door?
It certainly made us both jump just now.” Raine peered out the sidelight, then looked
over her shoulder at Logan. “We have company, and it’s your very favorite person.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Sunday, April 20

4:05
P.M.

“Hello, Billy Ray,” Raine said, cracking open the door. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise.”

“Give it a rest, Raine. I’m here to speak to Logan and Bailey.”

“I don’t think they want to speak to you.” She looked over her shoulder at her brother
and grinned. “Do you?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to Billy Ray. “He said to go screw
yourself.”

Logan strode forward. “That’s enough, Raine.”

“After all the trouble he’s caused our family? Not near enough.”

Logan yanked the door the rest of the way open. “Now’s not a good time, Williams.”

“I’m sure it’s not, but I’m here anyway. Just came to check on your wife. See how
she was feeling.”

He looked past Logan to her and smiled. “The doctor let you go home. That’s good news.”

“Yes, it is,” Logan said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

But the man ducked past Logan and into the foyer. “How about your memory, Mrs. Abbott?
Has it started coming back?”

Blood. On her hands and lap.

A dream? Or a memory?

Logan answered for her. “Not yet, Billy Ray. You’ll be the first person we call.”

Bailey frowned slightly. Obviously, he hadn’t wanted Billy Ray to know about the gunshot
or blood. Because it might have been her imagination? Or because of something else?

“Bailey was just going up for a rest. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back another—”

“I have news.”

She looked at Logan, then back at the lawman. “What news?”

“About Henry’s blood.”

Red. Everywhere. Her hands and jeans.

“I got a report back from the lab. I was right. Not all that blood was yours.”

The strangest sensation came over her. A chill that started at the top of her head
and eased downward.

“Blood belonged to a male. Type matched old Henry’s.”

“Oh, my God.”

That had come from Raine. She stood as if frozen, face as bloodless as a ghost’s.

“He’s guessing it’s Henry’s,” Logan said. “DNA profiling takes weeks. Even months.”