Kate wrapped her arms around her body in a hug, but it didn’t help. Her blood still ran cold through her veins. Conrad had been a smart con. He kept his stories straight by keeping them the same, starting with her. Or did he? Was there another wife out there who was even older than Kate?
A week in the same house with those two was not the peaceful time she’d been looking forward to, but there was no way she was backing down from the challenge. Whether she wanted to be or not, she was the real wife at the time of his death. She’d paid for his funeral, and it would cost her a lot of money to get all this crap cleared up, so she was staying right here.
Amanda tilted her chin up a notch. “I’m having the master bedroom.”
“I don’t want it,” Jamie said. “Gracie and I were planning to use her room anyway.”
Kate shrugged and turned around, her high heels sounding like a BB gun on the hardwood floor. Jamie’s cowboy boots echoed like shotgun blasts as she stomped down the hallway. Amanda’s blinged-out flip-flops reminded Kate of a series of slaps as she stormed toward the master bedroom.
Two doors slammed before Kate eased hers shut. She fell back into the rocker and closed her eyes. Evidently, Amanda had kicked off her flip-flops, because Kate heard bare feet pacing from one side of the room to the other. Jamie had shut the door to her room, and although Kate couldn’t understand a word of the rapid-fire Spanish, there was no doubt that she was ready to blow.
I’m going to stay until I get all this stuff settled, not only with the cabin but with the investigation. I’m not going back until everyone knows that I was not responsible for Conrad’s death.
A hard rap jerked her into an upright position. She opened the door so she could discern between the noise of the washing machine and maybe someone knocking on the door. The second rat-a-tat-tat assured her that someone was at the door.
She headed that way, wondering the whole time if wife number four might be standing on the other side. If so, she was shit outta luck unless she wanted to sleep on the sofa or out on the deck, because the honeymoon cabin had no vacancies.
Kate found Waylon Kramer standing there, cowboy hat tilted back so she could see his blue eyes, a smile as big as a happy Cheshire cat on his face.
“Miz Steele,” he said.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Easy. I called your office and your mother told me where you’d gone. She’s as eager as I am to get this solved. Am I right in assuming that all three of the wives are going to spend time together in this house? Are you sure that you never met any of those women before the funeral?”
“I guess that’s what’s about to happen. And I’m very sure I never met them before then.”
“Did y’all plan to be here at the same time?”
“Hell, no,” she said.
He chuckled.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s so funny?”
“A cussword coming out of your prim and proper mouth.”
“I don’t think you can arrest me for cussing on my own property, can you?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. But I’m beginning to think maybe you all three did find out about the others and planned a perfect murder. You’ve all got alibis, but one of you had to come up with the money, and I’ll bet that person was you. And honey, I will close this case,” he answered.
“You drove all the way from Dallas just to tell me that?” she asked.
“No, I have a small ranch in Mabelle, so I was close by. But if you’d like to confess, I brought my recorder.” He patted his shirt pocket.
“I have nothing to confess, and just so you know, I did not know those other two were coming up here. If there’s nothing else, I’ve got unpacking to do,” she said.
“When this all comes out in court, you’ll wish that you’d come clean. We could probably make a deal to take the death penalty off the table if you didn’t make us use up man-hours and resources. The jury might even have mercy on you when they hear what a scoundrel Conrad Steele was.”
“Good-bye, Detective Kramer. You have a nice day, now. Do drive safe—I wouldn’t want folks saying that you ran off the road and blaming me for your death.” Kate shut the door in his face and slid down the back side. Her skirt hiked all the way up to her panty line when she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them flow. She would not cry, not one single tear, no matter how crazy things got.
She wasn’t aware anyone was in the room with her until Jamie’s daughter laid a hand on her arm.
“I’m Gracie. You are Kate, right? Daddy showed me a picture of you and said you was his sister. Does that make you my aunt?” Her big brown eyes bored into Kate’s. “You have blue eyes. How can you be my aunt?”
“I’m not your aunt, Gracie. I was married to your father before he married your mama,” Kate explained.
“And that other one, the fat one, was she married to Daddy, too?” Gracie asked.
Kate held the giggle inside. “Yes, she was.”
“Like Sister Wives on television?”
“Your mama lets you watch that?” Kate asked.
“No, but my babysitter watches it and I know that there’s one daddy and lots of wives, like now, huh?” Gracie asked. “Only y’all didn’t even know you were sister wives, did you?”
“Gracie, where . . .” Jamie stopped both walking and talking.
“I’m right here talking to Kate.” Gracie grinned.
“Who was at the door?” Jamie glared at Kate.
“That big man who was at Daddy’s funeral,” Gracie answered.
“What did he want?” Jamie frowned.
Amanda pushed her way past Jamie. “I heard a truck and looked out the window, hoping both of you were leaving. What did he want?”
“He thinks we have conspired together and paid someone to . . .” Kate looked down at Gracie. “You know.”
“Is he insane? I told him I would never . . .” Amanda puckered up again. “I loved him too much . . .” She threw up her hands and hurried to her room.
“You better believe I told him I would have,” Jamie said bluntly. “In a split second, if I’d known for sure.”
“For sure?” Kate asked.
“Oh, yeah, I had my suspicions this last year when he started arriving late and leaving a day or two early. Import, export, my behind,” Jamie said.
“Mama, can I take my toys out on the deck and play?” Gracie asked.
“Yes, but you can’t go to the lake or even down the steps without me. Stay on the deck.” Jamie nodded. She turned to Kate. “So exactly what is import, export? I never got a straight answer.”
“He was a jobber. Do you know what that is?” Kate asked.
Jamie shook her head.
“He was an independent buyer of clothing and jewelry from stores after they had finished their seasonal sales. He would give the store ten cents on the dollar for all that was left and then sell it for twice that to discount clothing stores. He exported stuff out of those stores and imported it into other stores,” Kate said.
“He made it sound like a fancy job.” Jamie melted into a chair. “God, I feel stupid.”
Kate rocked up onto her knees and used the door handle to help her go from there to standing. “You mentioned doubts?”
“A wife knows when a man is having sex outside of his home. Surely you did.”
“I didn’t give a damn after the first year,” Kate said.