“That she was going to leave him for another man? If it was you who was leaving, how do you think he’d react?”
She didn’t know. But he wouldn’t hurt her. She told August so, then removed the saddle blanket and began brushing the horse. “You’ve spent too much time listening to gossip. Or Billy Ray Williams.”
“Billy Ray?” He snorted. “I don’t need that little man thinking for me. I’ve trained some of the best riders in the world. I’ve worked with horses that belong to kings and are worshipped like Gods. The way I was worshipped. Billy Ray Williams isn’t good enough to be a fly on one of their asses. He’s not good enough to be a fly on mine.”
She’d never seen him angry. His dislike of the other man ran deep and personal. What happened between them? And what had brought August here, so far from kings and the horses they owned?
She stopped brushing the mare and looked up at him. “Why are you here, August?”
The fire of indignation died in his eyes. Replaced by something sad and slightly bitter. “Because I’m just a man. Not a God.”
He squatted so he could look her in the eyes. “Why would True have left her car that way? Like the others? She would have known what everyone would think. Would she want that? For her husband … her friends to think … that?”
She wouldn’t. Not the woman whom everyone had described to her.
But that woman wouldn’t have had an affair, then run out on her husband and family without a word.
A clandestine grave.
“You knew her, you said you were friends. Was she going to leave him?”
“She never said anything that made me suspect that.” He paused. “Anyone could have killed her. Not just Logan.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better?
“Even you?” she asked, then resumed grooming the horse, though her heart wasn’t in it.
“Of course.” He straightened. “But I didn’t.”
“Which is what every killer says.”
“If it helps, I don’t think Logan killed her, either.”
She stopped again, surprised. “You don’t?”
“Logan’s my friend, Bailey. He took me on when I’d burned every bridge within a thousand miles. I’d never betray him.”
Which wasn’t the same as believing in a man’s innocence. She pushed the thought away. “Who killed True?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you can figure that out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bailey sat curled up on the keeping room sofa. She couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with August. He’d been toying with her. But no. He was nothing if not a troublemaker, but he also had heart. And a sense of loyalty toward Logan.
“I’d never betray him.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose, at the beginning of a headache lurking there. True had been his friend. He believed she was dead. Murdered. Along with Amanda LaPier and Trista Hook.
Bailey replayed the things he had said about True. The things others had said. About the kind of person she had been. That she had been completely devoted to Logan. Madly in love.
She hadn’t had an affair. There was another explanation for the hotel rooms and missing cash. There had to be.
August didn’t believe Logan a killer.
And neither did she.
In the hours that had passed since that conversation Bailey had tried to put herself in Logan’s head that night in the office. His mind-set after their argument. She’d come to the conclusion, he’d seen the cloud hanging over their heads. Of suspicion and accusation. The unanswered questions. He saw how it could kill their love.
Maybe he wondered, too? Maybe he had begun to doubt?
What really happened to True?
The truth took her breath. He had been searching for answers. Trying to figure things out himself.
It had made him look guilty. But just as easily, by her thinking, made him look innocent.
They’d fought about True, her disappearance, the other women who had gone missing. The things Billy Ray had said and believed.
Billy Ray Williams.
Logan’s number-one detractor. Who believed Logan a killer and had done everything but shout it from the rooftops.
“Who killed True?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you can figure that out.”
Billy Ray had given her his card, that day at Faye’s. She had been furious. Disgusted. She had wanted it out of her sight and had tossed it into the console. Snapped the console lid shut.
And hadn’t thought about it again until now.
She jumped to her feet and ran outside. To the garage. Her SUV.
Sure enough, the card was there. She snatched it up, found her phone and dialed.
Her voice shook when he answered. “It’s Bailey Abbott. You said you’d tell me everything I wanted to know about my husband. I’m ready to listen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Billy Ray lived in a small, brick home only a couple of blocks from the police station. Bailey had felt a small measure of relief as she passed the station, though since Billy Ray was the law, the proximity wouldn’t do her much good. If he meant her harm, there would be no help coming.
Billy Ray would know how to make her disappear.
Bailey’s mouth went dry. A half-dozen times during the drive here, Bailey had nearly changed her mind. But here she was, heading willingly into the enemy’s camp.
She parked on the street and climbed out of her vehicle. There, she stopped, drew a deep breath. She had to do this. She had to know what “evidence” Billy Ray had against Logan.
As she climbed his porch steps, Billy Ray opened the door. “Hello, Bailey.”
The familiarity felt wrong. It grated. This man was not her friend. “I prefer you call me Mrs. Abbott.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “If that makes you more comfortable.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “It does.”
“Why’d you change your mind?”
“That’s not really any of your business.”
“Fine.”
“So, talk to me.”
“It’s not what I want to say. It’s what I’m going to show you.”
His secret room. The one Stephanie had told her about. Diagrams. Pictures of True. A picture of Logan, at the center.
“But I need something from you first,” he said. “Your promise. To look at what I have with an open mind.”