Название: The Texas Soldier's Son
Автор: Karen Whiddon
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781474078917
isbn:
The answering machine picked up. “Nicole? It’s Theresa. We just wanted to let you know that we intend on filing for custody of our grandson.” And she ended the call.
Nicole had to remind herself to breathe. Her disbelief turned to anger. Who did these people think they were? How could they possibly believe any judge would give them custody of her son? She’d done nothing wrong. And she was a wonderful, devoted mother. On what basis did they think they could rip her baby away from her?
Then she realized the Mabrys must truly believe she’d murdered her husband. That would be the only scenario in which she could imagine a judge handing Jacob over to them. If she were convicted of murder and sent to prison, her son would need family to take care of him.
Except she hadn’t killed Bill and she wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was Jacob. She’d fight to her dying breath to keep her boy by her side.
Failing that, there was one tiny fact Bill’s parents were unaware of. A simple DNA test would prove that Jacob wasn’t truly related to them. He carried none of their blood. Bill had known; it had been one of the conditions she’d insisted on when her parents got her to marry him. She wasn’t a liar and there’d been no way she’d try to pass Kyle’s child off as another man’s.
Now Bill’s parents—and the sheriff—clearly believed her capable of murder. Kyle was alive—and she’d rejoice in this knowledge once she could breathe again—and also considered her not only a cheat, but a liar. And she’d lived in Anniversary her entire life, so she knew soon the entire town would be talking and drawing up sides.
What a way to cap an already horrible day.
She truly didn’t know how much more she could take. At least the day was almost over. Soon, she could fall into her bed and escape into the land of dreams.
Right before darkness fell, she headed out front to get the mail from the mailbox. Bill’s credit card statement had arrived. He’d informed her in no uncertain terms that she was never to open his mail, so she usually left these on the kitchen counter for him to open when he got home.
Now Bill was gone and she’d be cancelling all his credit cards. Until then, she’d need to pay all outstanding bills. She slit the envelope and pulled out the statement and blinked.
The total balance was quite a bit more than she’d expected. Nearly two thousand dollars. The list of charges made her stomach clench. Flowers from a florist, three times that month. A twelve-hundred-dollar charge at Guller’s Jewelry Store. Dinner at an expensive Italian restaurant, which mustn’t have been for business since he’d used his personal credit card.
And the final charge was the real kicker. Two hundred and thirty dollars in lingerie at Victoria’s Secret.
None of this had been for her. Bill hadn’t once brought her flowers or gifted her with jewelry or lingerie.
Which meant he had a mistress. Another woman. Which would explain all those nights when he hadn’t come home, claiming to have slept at the office.
A mistress. Rather than dismay or regret, all she felt was relief.
She needed to notify the sheriff. If they didn’t know about this woman, they needed to. Maybe they could get a search warrant for her home too.
* * *
All the way back to his rental house, Kyle muttered a running litany of curses. He’d been hurt and angry before. Now he was furious. How could it be possible that he’d never truly known Nicole at all?
When he passed the sign for the lake, he took a sharp left, catching the turn so fast for a moment he thought his wheels might leave the pavement. He drove to the park at the top of the bluff—once his and Nicole’s favorite spot, though he wouldn’t think of that night.
Out of the truck, he climbed down to the water’s edge, stripping off his clothes as he went. The hot Texas sun beat down on him unmercifully. Finally, clad only in his boxers, he jumped into the lake.
And swam. Clean, crisp strokes, the physical action of using his body to move helping to clear his head. Across the lake he went, all the way to the other shore, before turning around and heading back. He did this three times, until his chest and arms were screaming in protest.
When he finally climbed up on shore, his muscles quivering, he felt better. More like himself. As if he had a snowball’s chance in hell of being in control of his destiny.
Dressing, he climbed back up to his truck. He needed to get to the supermarket and stock up on provisions.
The H-E-B store looked unchanged. He parked and went inside, grabbing a cart. Though he hadn’t made a list, his little rental house was totally empty, so he’d need staples including cleaning supplies, as well as food.
As he perused the choices in paper towels, someone called his name.
He looked up, breaking into a grin. “Bret Atkinson. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
The two men shook hands. He and Bret had been buddies in high school. When Kyle went off after joining the army, Bret had stayed in town and gone to work at his father’s boot repair shop. Bret had married his high school sweetheart, Heather.
“I was pretty damn surprised yesterday when I heard you were in town,” Bret said. “Considering I went to your memorial service about a year ago.”
Once again, Kyle found himself explaining what had happened to him. He figured he might ought to consider printing up his story on paper and handing them out since his appearance clearly was a shock to everyone in town.
“Wow,” Bret marveled when he’d finished. “It’s a shame what’s happening with Nicole, isn’t it?”
“I heard about her husband getting murdered.” Kyle kept his tone noncommittal.
“Yeah, and she’s the prime suspect.”
Though Trudy had said something similar, this was his friend. Bret knew Nicole well. The two couples had spent a lot of time together.
Surely Bret didn’t truly believe Nicole could do such a thing. Kyle wasn’t sure how to react. He waited for Bret to laugh and say he’d been joking, but the expression on his old friend’s face was serious as dirt.
“Really?” Kyle finally asked. “Are you saying the guy had no other enemies?”
“That we know of. He was a deacon at his church, a well-respected community guy, and from what I hear, an easy boss to work for at the trucking company.”
Kyle nodded. “Were he and Nicole happy?” Inwardly, he winced. He hadn’t meant to ask that—the words had just slipped out.
“They appeared to be.” Bret shrugged. “But you know how that can be. Lots of folks just put on a happy face. No one really knows what goes on in private.”
Another stab straight to the gut. Yet Kyle managed an impersonal smile. “How’s Heather?”
Bret’s smile slipped a notch. “We’ve got just about one more month. СКАЧАТЬ