The First Wife (24 page)

“What were you doing out there?”

“I told you, going to see Henry. Tony ran off and I went searching for him.”

“Bailey, baby, that wasn’t very smart. You could have gotten lost. It gets pretty
swampy in places, you could have fallen … there are snakes, too. Water moccasins.”

The mention of snakes made her queasy. “Except for the snakes, those all crossed my
mind. But you’re missing the point. When I found Tony, he was digging up something.
It turned out to be the shoe.”

“Did you bring it back with you?”

“No. But I snapped a picture.”

“Seriously?” When she didn’t return his smile, he said, “Okay, let’s see it.”

She showed it to him. He’d gazed at the image for a long moment, then handed her phone
back. “Okay.”

“Then Henry showed up. He walked me back.”

“You’re right, it does sound like a big adventure.” He opened the gate, started through.
“And Tony stayed with him?”

“Yes. Wait—” She touched his arm stopping him. “What should we do?”

“About Tony?”

“No. The shoe.”

“I don’t see that we need to do anything about it.”

“But … how did it get out there?”

“Kids go out there all the time to go swimming. It may seem like the middle of nowhere,
but it’s actually not that far from the edge of the property and Hay Hollow Road.”

“It wasn’t a kid’s shoe. It belonged to a woman.”

“When I say ‘kids,’ I’m talking about young people. It’s a make-out spot. One time
somebody couldn’t find their shoes, so they left without them.”

It sounded logical. “I suppose that could happen.”

“I can promise you it has. Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll pour us a glass of wine.”

But she had hung back, Bailey remembered. “How did a woman wearing high-heel shoes
get to that spot?”

He looked back. “What?”

“Like you said, it’s swampy and uneven. And she wouldn’t take them off and go barefoot,
because of the snakes.”

“Maybe the man she was with carried her?”

An image popped into her head, one of a victim being carried.

Logan returned to her side, took her hands. “They’re cold.” He rubbed them between
his. “This has really upset you.”

“Yes, Logan … two women from Wholesome have gone missing.”

He searched her gaze. “You’re being serious?”

“I am.”

“You really think Tony may have unearthed one of those women’s shoes?”

“It probably isn’t. But it could be.”

“On our property?”

“Why not? It could happen to anybody. And what if it was and we did nothing?”

“Look, I’ve lived here all my life and have seen just what I’ve described to you a
hundred times before. Hell, I’ve participated before. It’s so swampy there because
it’s spring and we’ve had so much rain. In the summer, it’s dry and lovely. But, if
it would make you feel better to take it to the police—”

“It would, Logan. It really would.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s getting too
dark now. In the morning, we’ll go out there, collect the shoe and bring it to Billy
Ray.”

Bailey blinked; the memory evaporated. The flashlight in her hand, illuminating the
deep of night. The empty drive.

She had told Logan about the shoe. There had been a logical explanation. And they’d
dealt with it.

Relief was as heady as a narcotic. Why not join him down there? Show her support.
That they were a team and should share everything. Even nurse duty for a sick horse
in the middle of the night.

She acted on the thought, staying to the path, keeping the flashlight beam directed
at her feet. A strange sensation moved over her as she walked—of being completely
alone in some strange world. The towering pine trees and thick underbrush that lined
the path seemed to close in on her. The night sounds, the buzz of insects and rustle
of some creature in the thicket. Something swooped past her head and her heart leaped
to her throat. A bat, she realized, shuddering.

Her every instinct urged her to run. Reason held her back. She couldn’t risk falling
again. So she kept on, one foot in front of the other, carefully picking her way.

And then the path opened up. Manicured grounds with fenced paddocks. Occasional solar
lamps providing a welcome glow to the dark path. The barn ahead. A small, welcoming
light at its entrance. The golf cart parked directly under it.

Bailey hurried to it, slipped through the barn doors, then hesitated as the strangest
sensation of dread came over her. Something wasn’t right here. The barn was dark.
The animals sleeping. A lone, lonely light came from the far end, a feeble glow escaping
from under a doorway.

Turn around now, Bailey. You don’t want to be here.

She thought of the big, warm bed. The locks on the doors. She rubbed at the goose
bumps on her arms.

“Logan?” she called.

One of the horses neighed softly in response. Another peered out of its stall as if
curious at the commotion.

Bailey switched off the flashlight and started toward the closed door and its feeble
glow. She realized she was creeping. Like a mouse—or a thief. She didn’t know why,
but even as she told herself to stop, she didn’t.

She reached the door. Pressed her ear close to listen. Movement. Something being opened
and closed. A rhythmic hum. What sounded like a washer or dryer.

The blood pounding in her head, she reached for the knob. Before she could, the door
swung open. With a squeak of surprise, Bailey jumped back.

Paul looked as shocked to see her as she was him.

“Bailey?” He held out a hand to steady her. “What are you doing down here?”

Her gaze shifted to the open door behind him. “Looking for Logan.”

“Logan?” He reached behind him and closed the door. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know. I woke up and he was gone.”

“What made you think he’d be here?”

“He wasn’t in the house and the golf cart was gone, so I assumed he came down here.”

“I’m using the cart tonight. Catching up on some things.”

Her gaze slid over his shoulder again. His office was at the other end of the barn;
what work could he be catching up on here?

“Laundry, feed inventory,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “Not enough hours
in the day.”

“Logan said one of the horses was colicky. That’s another reason I thought he might
be here.…” At his blank look, her words trailed off. She caught her bottom lip between
her teeth. “I feel pretty ridiculous right now.”

“Don’t.” Paul hesitated a moment, then said, “Logan doesn’t sleep well. On any given
night, he could’ve wandered down here. But not tonight.”

“Will you talk to me, Paul? I want to help him, but I don’t know how.”

“Help him what? Sleep better?”

She didn’t understand the edge in his voice and frowned. “Trust that I won’t leave.
That I’m safe from whatever boogeyman he expects to pop out and snatch me.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that.”

“Why?” She reached out a hand to touch him; he jerked away. Her cheeks heated. “I
see now. You won’t help me because you think it’s a lie. You think I’ll leave him,
too. That I’ll disappear.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to. If you see Logan, tell him I was looking for him.”

“I didn’t hear a car.”

“I walked.”

“Walked?” He frowned. “At this time of night, with your head still bandaged from your
last accident?”

She flushed and held up the flashlight. “I was careful. Came prepared.”

“There are some things you can’t prepare for.”

“Like the bat that did a flyby of my head.”

He didn’t smile. “I’ll bring you back up to the house.” When she started to protest,
he added, “You don’t want Logan to return, only to find you missing and freak out.”

“A ride it is. Both of us freaking out in one night might be a little much, even for
this family.”

“Let me turn off the dryer before we go.”

He ducked back through the door, once again closing it behind him. Odd, she thought.
Almost as if he didn’t want her to look inside.

“What is that room?” she asked when he returned.

He looked surprised. “Feed room. Medicine and supplement storage. Laundry room. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Want to see it?”

He started to reopen the door; she stopped him. “Really, just curious.”

He nodded and closed the hasp and snapped the padlock tight. “I keep it locked at
all times, mostly because of the pharmaceuticals. But the supplements add up, too.
Don’t need them walking off.”

They started toward the front of the barn.

“Bailey?”

He stopped; she looked at him.

“Another woman’s gone missing. Did you know that?”

“No.” The word came out choked. “When?”

“While you were in the hospital. Her name was Dixie.”

“Was?”

“Is,” he corrected. “She was last seen at a local bar. I just want you to be … It
pays to be cautious, that’s all.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re right. Thank you.”

A moment later, they were in the cart. It started silently.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” he said. “Refusing to help you with Logan. But I can’t
encourage him to trust, not after True.”

“What … what do you believe happened to her?”

“I believe the same thing Logan does.” He hit a rut, causing Bailey to come off her
seat. She grabbed the dash for support.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered. “She was having an affair and left him. It all adds
up.”

“But it doesn’t. Not the way everyone loved her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No one saw it coming. No one … saw that in her.”

He hit another rut; it tossed her against him. She scooted away. “It’s been since
True, hasn’t it? That Logan’s been unable to sleep.”

He glanced at her, then back at the path. “You should ask him, Bailey.”

“I know, but he—” She looked down at her hands and absently rubbed away a rusty-looking
smudge on her fingers. “It’s hard. When I ask things that … he shuts me out.”

He didn’t respond and she reached over and touched his sleeve. “Please. I could really
use a friend.”

His expression softened and he stopped the cart. “No. His insomnia started when his
mother died, it’s gotten much worse since True. She was the most … wonderful woman.
Kind. Funny. Pretty. She was good to me.”

Bailey frowned, confused. “True?”

He looked surprised. “What?”

“You’re talking about True? She was good to you?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. I was talking about Logan’s mother. Elisabeth.”

Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. Obviously, she had been very important
to him. “Growing up, I spent more time here than at home. It was she who encouraged
my love of horses.”

He looked away, then back at her. “Everything was different after she died. Everyone
was different.”

“When did you suspect that Logan’s dad, you know—”

“Killed her? We all knew he did it. The four of us, right away from the moment we
learned she wasn’t onboard.”

“But you didn’t … say anything? To anyone?”

“Logan did, finally.”

“He told me the two of you testified against him.”

“We just relayed what we saw and heard that weekend.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been.”

“No, you can’t.” He glanced apologetically at her, as if sorry for how sharp that
sounded. “Then Roane hung himself. He was so sensitive. So easily … influenced. He
was despondent the day he did it.”

“You talked to him?”

“I did. I was maybe the last. He’d never recovered from his mother’s death. The court
validating what he knew, what we all knew, only made it worse.”

He was silent a moment. “Logan was the one who found him.”

“Oh, my God.” She paused, hurting for her husband. “He didn’t tell me that. Just that
he had hung himself in the old barn.”

“Not the main barn. The hay barn. We don’t use it anymore.”

Bailey thought making that distinction was important to Paul, though she didn’t get
why. “He blames himself,” she said. “I wish I could take that away. I don’t know how.”

“You can’t. He was the big brother. He feels like he should have somehow known … That’s
who he is, Bailey.”

That’s why he blamed himself for his mother, too.

It only made her love him more.

“Thank you, Paul, for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.” He started the cart and they eased forward. “This is a very sad
family you’ve married into.”

He rounded the curve and the house’s secondary gates came into sight. Moments later,
he pulled to a stop at the courtyard gate. She climbed out, then looked back. “What
about you, Paul? Why do you stay?”

“Because they’re my family, too.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Tuesday, April 22

4:20
A.M.

She watched as Paul turned the cart and headed back the way he had come, then ducked
inside. “Logan” she called softly. He didn’t reply; but she did a quick search of
the downstairs anyway, before heading up.

Where was he? It was almost dawn. She crossed to the balcony doors, opened them and
stepped through. The moonlight seemed brighter from above than it had below. She gazed
out, past the courtyard wall, to the woods, to where she had seen Henry that day,
picturing him.

But as she did, the memory of him there on the path shifted and changed. A memory
from another time. Logan. Heading away. Carrying something. A stick … No, a shovel.

Her knees went weak. She remembered. The next morning her stomach had been fluttery.
Logan had been sweet, felt her head to see if she had a temp.

Then he’d called off their hike out to the pond. He had to go into the city. A problem
with a property on the Westbank, Algiers Point.

So she had gone without him. As she had feared, the shoe was gone. The stick she’d
dug it out with had been there, the debris from around it. She’d searched the area,
thinking maybe an animal had dragged it away.