The First Wife (19 page)

Billy Ray smirked. “But basic serology is quick.”

Bailey looked up at Logan. “I can’t … Do you think … Could I have seen Henry … shot?”

“Must have been more than saw him,” Billy Ray said. “Otherwise how’d you get all that
blood on your—”

“Shut up, Billy Ray! You don’t know for sure it’s even Henry’s blood.”

“Who else’s could it be!” Bailey got to her feet, legs shaking so badly, she feared
she might fall. She grasped the banister for support. “It must be his.… How did I
end up with Henry’s blood all over me!”

“My question exactly, Mrs. Abbott.”

“I told you, I don’t remember!”

“How about the last time you saw him alive?”

Henry. Alive.
She brought a hand to her head, to the bandages that covered her wound. “I don’t …
recently … it must have been. We talked about True.”

The words landed with a silent roar. All three looked at her.

Logan held a hand out. “What did you say?”

She stared at him, heart thundering. Head pounding. “Nothing. I didn’t say…” Her vision
blurred. “No. That was a mistake. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yes, you do,” Billy Ray said. “Tell me, when did you last see him?”

“He was my friend.” Her tears spilled over and she brought a hand to her mouth. She’d
always wondered why people did that, and now she knew. To hold back the sounds of
their pain, as if holding them back somehow kept the hurt at bay. “I don’t remember.”

Logan moved to take her into his arms. “Sweetheart, I’m so—”

She pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. You must have known this. All that blood … how
else … you must have—”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You see why it’s so important you talk to me,” Billy Ray said, taking a step toward
her. “Who knows what he will or won’t tell you?”

“You son of a bitch!” Logan lunged at Billy Ray, knocking him into the entryway table.
A lamp crashed to the floor.

Raine jumped in, dragging Logan back. “Don’t! He wants you to hit him!”

Bailey stared at them.

“Who knows what he will or won’t tell you?”

“Ask him about True.”

Ask him.

About True.

True. What happened to True?

“Stop it!” she shouted, and pain knifed through her skull. She did it again anyway.
“Both of you! Leave me alone!”

She turned and ran up the stairs to the bedroom and locked the door behind her. There,
pain crashed down on her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sunday, April 20

5:10
P.M.

Billy Ray stared after Bailey, her words reverberating in his head. To leave her alone,
go away. He couldn’t breathe. As if something from the depths of his being was spilling
forth, like helium filling a balloon to bursting. Until there was room for nothing
else in its skin.

“You son of a bitch.”

Billy Ray jerked his gaze to Logan.

“You leave her alone. Do you hear me? You leave us alone!”

Billy Ray didn’t respond. He turned to go; Logan grabbed his arm, stopping him. “That’s
my wife, and she’s carrying my child. And I swear to God, I’ll do whatever it takes
to protect what’s mine.”

He released him. “Now get the hell out of my house!”

Billy Ray half stumbled, half ran to his cruiser. He felt sick. If he puked in front
of Abbott, he’d know just how personal this was.

“You’ve got to stop this, Billy Ray.”

“You’ve got to leave me alone now.”

He started the vehicle and tore out, spitting gravel up as he did. He made it past
the barn and through the main gates and onto the road before he had to pull the cruiser
over. He climbed out and stumbled to the side and vomited.

Billy Ray retched until he thought there could be nothing left inside him. Empty.
He was completely empty.

He made it back into the vehicle and slumped behind the wheel. The image of Bailey
Abbott’s stricken face taunted him. The way True’s did. Expression afraid. And lost.
So very vulnerable it tore him apart.

True
. She was right there, where she lived in his head, so real he was sure that if he
could find a way to crawl inside himself, he could hold her in his arms.

She was beckoning him. To try. To open the door, step through. Join her.

Billy Ray looked at his hands. They were shaking. He was so tired of fighting the
memories and feelings, stuffing them deep down, so deep they occupied the very marrow
of his being. Holding them there. He was tired, so tired.

So he let go, and she was opening her front door. His knees went weak at the sight
of her.

“What are you doing here, Billy Ray?”

She looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone else with him.

“Just checking on you, True. Making sure you’re okay.”

Her smile looked stiff. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Was she teasing him? Or did she really want him to spell it out for her? “Can I come
in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Logan wouldn’t like it.”

“But he’s out of town.”

A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “How’d you know that, Billy Ray?”

He hadn’t meant to make her feel uncomfortable. “This is a small town, everybody knows
everything.”

“You still can’t come in. Logan’s my husband, and if he wouldn’t like something, I
don’t do it. Out of respect.”

No wonder he loved her. “Can we talk out here?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “I suppose so.” She stepped the rest of the way out onto
the porch and closed the door behind her. “What’s on your mind?”

“You, True.”

“You’ve got to stop this, Billy Ray—”

“No, wait! I know some things about this family and I think you need—”

“No.” She held up a hand, obviously upset. “I know about this family. I know how sad—”

“And about Logan. He’s a bad guy, True. You’ve got to believe me. The woman who went
missing, she wasn’t the only one. Five years ago—”

“No.” She shook her head. “I love Logan. He wouldn’t hurt me or anybody else.”

“Please, True. Just listen to me.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. You’ll find somebody. The right girl.”

He didn’t respond and she squeezed his hand. “You’ve got to leave me alone now. And
if you don’t, I’m going to have to do something about it.”

“I have to save you, True.”

“I know, Billy Ray,” she said, her expression as sad as any he’d ever seen. “And you
are a sweet, sweet man. But you have to believe me now, I don’t need saving.”

A truck rumbled past, the driver honking in greeting. Billy Ray snapped back to the
present. He realized he had been crying and wiped his eyes and sat up straight. He
couldn’t save True. Not then and certainly not now.

But Bailey, he could. And her unborn child. It wasn’t too late for them. He fastened
his safety belt and pulled onto the highway. If it cost him his last breath, he would
see to it that Logan Abbott never hurt another woman.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Sunday, April 20

6:05
P.M.

Stephanie Rodriguez sat on her small front porch, a drink cradled in her hands, staring
out at the pasture and the waning day. An idyllic scene: the three mares grazing,
her chestnut, Molly, stopping every so often to whinny softly at her.

The animal had picked up on her distress. They were amazing creatures. Sensitive.
Capable of a range of emotion. Of devotion.

If Stephanie would allow herself to be soothed, Molly could do it. But Stephanie wasn’t
ready to feel better. Tears stung her eyes and she brought the glass to her lips and
sipped. The alcohol burned, but she welcomed its sting.

Uncle Henry was dead. Shot in the back by some idiot with a rifle and more than likely
a belly full of beer.

She took another sip, acknowledging anger. At the gun-happy, trespassing son of a
bitch who did it. But also at herself. Why had she allowed him to continue to live
out there alone? She should have convinced him to come live with her here, at her
farm.

Truth was, she’d hardly even tried. Asked when she should have insisted. Bought into
her own self-assurances. If she was vigilant, all would be well.

But it wasn’t well. Now he was gone.

And she was alone.

From inside came the sound of the phone. She left the call for voice mail to answer;
she didn’t have the heart for another condolence or the inevitable questions that
followed. The calls had been coming nonstop. As much with concern as curiosity.

From one of the callers she’d learned about Bailey’s accident. Her amnesia. The fact
it had happened the same day as Uncle Henry had been shot. One neighbor had actually
posed aloud what the rest of them had been salivating to know: What really happened
out in those woods?

The sound of tires on her gravel drive drew her attention. A Wholesome police cruiser.

Billy Ray.

Once upon a time she would have waved and waited for him, or run to meet him. Flung
herself into his arms. Stephanie closed her eyes, and pushed aside the memories of
those times. She couldn’t change the past. She understood that just as clearly as
she believed she
could
control the present—and the person she would become.

Billy Ray no longer had the ability to hurt her. Because she wouldn’t allow him that
power, and it was her choice how the next few minutes would go.

She stood as he drew to a stop, watched as he climbed out of the cruiser and crossed
to her.

“Billy Ray,” she said when he stopped at the bottom of the porch steps and looked
up.

“Hello, Steph.”

“What’re you doing out here?”

“Came to make certain you were doing all right.”

“Seeing is believing. I’m dandy. You can go now.”

He nudged his hat back so he could see her better. “I’m really sorry about Henry.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she cursed them. She would not cry in front of this man.
Never again. “Why are you really here, Billy Ray?”

“I tried to call. You didn’t answer.”

“Because it was you calling.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What do you want?
If this is just more of your nonsense, I really don’t have time for it.”

“It’s an official visit from the chief of police. If you call that ‘nonsense.’”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Village of Wholesome, population seven hundred.”

“That used to be good enough for you, Steph.”

“And so was baby food.”

His mouth tightened. She’d hit her mark. “I came to talk to you about Bailey Abbott.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

Of course he didn’t. To him, she’d never been worth fighting for.

“When’d you see her last?”

“A little over a week ago. Right before all that rain.”

“Friday.”

She thought a moment. “That’s right.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“What was the purpose of her visit?”

“The purpose of … Really? You have to ask that?” Stephanie made a sound of disbelief.
“We’re friends. You know that. Obviously.”

“And friends talk.”

“Of course.”

“What did you talk about that day?”

“None of your damn business!”

He flushed slightly. “You heard about her accident?”

“Yes. No way to keep a juicy tidbit like that quiet.”

“She was riding. Caught a low-hanging branch in the temple.” When she frowned slightly,
he added, “Doesn’t sound right, does it?”

“It doesn’t sound like Bailey. She’s cautious.”

“As I understand it, she doesn’t ride. She’s terrified of horses.”

He sounded smug. Of course he would, he prided himself on knowing everything about
the man he hated most in all the world. “Yes, she does. Sorry to disappoint you, but
she’s actually a competent rider. Just rusty.” She smiled slightly at his surprise.
“And no, she’s not terrified of them. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.”

She flushed. “That’s not something
I
do.”

“Did Logan know?”

He always brought it back around to Logan. “No. She wanted to surprise him for his
birthday. It’s one of the things we talked about that Friday.”

She saw his consternation. Obviously this news had forced him to rewrite whatever
nefarious plot he’d composed in his head.

“Bailey has no memory of what happened. You don’t find that odd?”

“Give it a rest.”

“There’s more about her accident, you want to hear it?”

She did, but not from him. “I’ll call Logan. I’m a family friend, I don’t have to
rely on gossip.”

“It’s not gossip. It’s right from the police report.”

“One you wrote up yourself, no doubt. I’ll take my chances.”

“It has to do with your uncle.”

She stopped on that. “Uncle Henry?”

“When they found Bailey, she had a lot of blood on her. It wasn’t all hers.”

Stephanie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “Oh, my God.”

“A week ago, besides her riding, what did you talk about?”

“We’re friends, Billy Ray. We just talked.”

“That’s what girlfriends do, isn’t it? Talk about everything. Their husbands, trouble
they may be having in their marriage, their concerns—”

“You’re so full of shit.”

She turned to go inside; before she could, he was up the porch steps, hand on her
arm. “Did she? Talk about Logan? Was she worried about anything?”

“No, she was happy. Ecstatic even. Now, take your hand off me.”

He tightened his grip instead. “You’re lying.”

“And you’re obsessed!” She jerked her arm free. “She’s not True. She doesn’t need
you to ‘save’ her.”

“How good a rider had she become?”

“I told you, she’s competent.”

“Confident enough to be galloping through the woods?”

She couldn’t imagine it.
“I’m not in her head.”

“But I need you to be.”