The First Wife

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

She pulled out her order pad and pen, wrote on it, then laid it on the table. “My number’s on there. Call me. I’m so sorry.”





CHAPTER NINE

The cold slapped Bailey in the face as she exited Faye’s diner. She stuffed the ticket with the waitress’s number into her jacket pocket and started toward her SUV.

Only to find Billy Ray Williams there, his cruiser blocking her vehicle, the engine running. She’d had enough of the man and his games, and strode across the parking lot and rapped on his window.

He lowered it. He’d removed his sunglasses and she saw that he had broad, even features and brown eyes, weathered at the corners from years of squinting in the sun. An everyman sort of face.

He smiled pleasantly. “Hello, Mrs. Abbott.”

“Cut the crap. It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Me who what?”

“Believes Logan’s first wife is a third missing woman.”

“I’m not alone in that belief.”

“What game are you playing here?”

“This is no game. Ask your husband about True.”

“Don’t tell me what to do in my marriage.”

“Did he tell you he was investigated in her disappearance?”

He hadn’t. But it didn’t matter. “She left him.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

“Get in the car.”

She laughed, the sound disbelieving. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Get in and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I’ll tell you the truth.”

She laughed. “The truth according to you, Chief Williams. Not interested.”

“I’m the law.”

“That’s supposed to mean something? You can’t be the law and have an agenda.”

“Everyone has an agenda. Mine’s uncovering the truth. Bringing it to light.”

Instead of acknowledging him, she spun around and stalked to the Range Rover.

“Do you want to live, Mrs. Abbott?”

She stopped. Looked back at him in disbelief. “Are you threatening me?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Just a friendly heads-up.”

She unlocked the driver-side door, yanked it open. “Leave me alone.”

“Death follows him. It follows that family. You have to ask yourself why.” He stuck his head out the window and called after her. “Ask him why he lied when we interviewed him. Why his story kept changing. Does an honest man do that? A concerned husband?”

“You had better move your vehicle now, or I’m going to ram it. Don’t think I won’t.”

Bailey slid in, inserted the key and the powerful engine roared to life. Shaking with anger, she shifted into reverse. In that same moment, Billy Ray flipped on his cherry lights and tore out of the parking lot.





CHAPTER TEN

The courtyard fountain mocked Bailey with its rhythmic trickle and splash. The sun, playing peekaboo with the scattering of clouds, seemed to taunt her for her agitation.

Since returning from town, she had been unable to sit still. She had wandered, inside to outside, upstairs to downstairs. Her mind moving quicker than her feet. It spun with the things Billy Ray Williams had said, the things Stephanie had shared.

Four years. Two women missing.

Some thought True made three.

Logan had been questioned in his wife’s disappearance. He’d lied to the police, changed his story. Why would he have done that? She rubbed her forehead. True hadn’t disappeared. She’d left of her own free will.

True had been having an affair. Logan had told her so.

“Death follows him. It follows that family.”

What did that mean?

And why hadn’t Logan told her any of this?

What else hadn’t he told her?

A lot, she acknowledged. But what did she expect? She had married a stranger.

No. Bailey drew a deep, steadying breath. She knew him. What she needed to know anyway—that he was strong but gentle, loving and compassionate. He understood loss, because he had lost so much. He had promised to never hurt her.

Everything else was nothing.

She would not allow Billy Ray Williams—or anyone else—to steal her happiness.

Bailey heard him arriving home, the crunch of his tires on the gravel drive. She ran out to meet him, breaking into a smile. “You’re home!”

He caught her in his arms and held her tightly. “You make coming home the highlight of my day.”

She lifted her face to his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stood a moment, staring stupidly into each other’s eyes. Love drunk, she thought. Completely ridiculous.

But wonderful. Worries over what she did and didn’t know about her husband and small-town gossip melted away, and she let herself be wrapped in their love and this perfect moment.

Until even in his arms, she was cold. Bailey shivered and he drew away. “You should have grabbed a coat.”

“And shoes.”

He looked down at her bare feet. “Crazy wife. What were you thinking?”

Tell him, Bailey. He’ll answer your questions and everything will make sense again.

Instead, she caught his hand and led him inside. “I’ve opened a bottle of your favorite Pinot.”

“Pour me a glass. I’ll get cleaned up.”

“Don’t go!”

He frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it and smiled. “What could be wrong?”

He kissed her. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Wait!”

He stopped, frown deepening.

“How’d today go?”

Representatives from the North American Danish Warmblood Association had come to a neighboring breeding farm, Oak Hill Ranch, to inspect the two-year-olds.

“Really well. Paragon scored an eight and Paradox a nine. To give you an idea, a ten is virtually unheard of. I wish you had been there.”

If only she had. “Too many horses and horse people, all talking about—”

“Horses.”

“Exactly.” She waved him off. “Go. I’ll get the wine.”

The minute he disappeared from view, her doubts returned, flooding her thoughts. Not doubts, she told herself as she poured them both a glass of wine. Concerns.

That she’d married him too fast, that the things she didn’t know about him outweighed the things she did.

Stop it, Bailey.