Our Husband

by Stephanie Bond

  She arched an eyebrow. "And next they'll try to get rid of me, is that what you're saying?"

  Aldrich pursed his mouth, then said, "Not if they had your cooperation."

  Keane's demeanor changed—his head tilted, his eyes softened. "Mrs. Carmichael, if the three of you were in on this together, I'll do my best to arrange a deal for you... if you tell us everything that happened."

  Words of denial exploded in her head, but she couldn't speak. Everything was going wrong.

  The door opened and relief flooded her that Gaylord had arrived. But instead of her comforting, arrogant lawyer, an officer stood in the doorway, gesturing to speak with Aldrich. The detective obliged, and after a muttered exchange, turned back.

  "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this little meeting short. I just received word that Ms. Hicks was admitted to the hospital this afternoon."

  Beatrix's heart quickened. The baby?

  "She was released in good condition," he continued, giving his waistband a yank. "But the real interesting part is that Natalie Blankenship and her brother drove all the way up here to take Ruby home." He eyed Beatrix. "Funny how the whole bunch of you alleged strangers have gotten so chummy now that your husband is out of the way."

  Beatrix curled her fist, digging her nails into her palm. Could Natalie and that other one be in cahoots? She pressed her lips together, mindful that between the cigarettes and the constant licking, she'd worn off her lipstick, dammit. To think she'd believed their acts of grief and innocence—had even come to this pedestrian place to try to help Natalie. Were they planning to turn on her next? Or maybe they were going to set her up.

  The bitches.

  The stout detective walked to the door and stopped, his hand on the knob. "Mrs. Carmichael, if I were you, I'd seriously consider Mr. Keane's generous offer. The first birdie who sings gets the prize. I'll let you think on that while I collect the other two Mrs. Carmichaels."

  "I was just leaving," she said, half-standing.

  "I don't think so," he said with a nasty little smile. "It's high time we talked to all three of you wives in the same room."

  Her mouth opened as she searched for the words to profess her innocence without protesting so much that she looked even more guilty than the picture of collaboration all three of them had unwittingly painted.

  She scowled at Keane and sat down with a sniff. "Where the hell is my lawyer?"

  Chapter 24

  Ruby hugged herself. Every time she walked into the nursery, happiness bubbled so high inside her, she had to raise onto her tippy-toes to keep from getting a head rush. "It's bunnies," she announced to Natalie, then pulled her inside the small, yellow room because she seemed hesitant to enter.

  "I see," Natalie said, tilting her head, probably so she could take it all in.

  Ruby knew just how she felt—from the bunny-covered wallpaper and bunny border, to the bunny bed linens and curtains, she'd never seen a more beautiful room, not even in a magazine. "How do you like it?"

  "It's very... stimulating," Natalie said, nodding. "Lots of bunnies."

  Pointing to the ceiling fan, Ruby said, "I cut bunnies out of the wallpaper border and pasted them on the blades." With a flip of a switch she turned on the fan. "See, it looks like they're running."

  "Backward," Natalie said.

  "Oh, that was a little mistake, but Ray said it was 'unexpected.' Just don't stare too long 'cause it might make you dizzy."

  "Okay."

  "Isn't the furniture to die for?" Crib, chest of drawers, and changing table, all white, with decoupage bunnies, except for the bottom drawer because she'd gotten a blister from the scissors and had to stop.

  "It's very nice," Natalie said. "Very... coordinated."

  "You don't think it's too girly, do you, in case I have a boy?"

  "Well, babies are babies. Gender decorating is more for the parents."

  Ruby grinned. "Ray said the same thing!"

  "He probably heard me say it."

  "Oh. You look really pale, Nat. Want to go for a couple of minutes in my tanning bed?"

  "You have a tanning bed?"

  "In the guest room. State of the art."

  "Er, no, thanks. Tanning isn't good for your skin, you know. Especially for someone with your fair coloring."

  "Oh, I don't use it that much. It was Ray's idea—he loved being brown."

  "I thought his tan was natural. He said he was playing lots of golf with clients."

  Ruby smiled. "I didn't know he was an athlete. Ray was a talented man, wasn't he?"

  "You could say that."

  A strange tickle inside her stomach stopped her, a bubble dancing behind her navel. Gas?

  "Is something wrong?" Natalie asked.

  "I don't know. I felt something." She frowned and rubbed her tummy through the loose sweatshirt. "There it is again." Realization dawned and she gasped. "The baby moved!"

  Natalie's tongue moved over her thin lips, then she nodded. "It's a little early, but you might be further along than you think."

  "She's okay, then." Ruby cupped her stomach. "Oh, Nat, she's okay!"

  Natalie was slow in responding—thinking heavy doctor stuff probably, because she was leaning against the bunny-covered bookcase and staring at her sensible shoes. "Of course the baby is okay," she said. "But you'll need to take your vitamins every day, and monitor your blood sugar level."

  "Oh, I will," she sang, overjoyed. "I promise." She felt a rush of affection for Ray's second wife, for coming to her rescue and making her feel better. She wished they could be girlfriends—go shopping, see matinees, swap clothes. "Nat, can I show you something else?"

  Natalie looked up. "What?"

  "Curtains I made for the master bedroom. Ray never got to see them."

  Natalie looked as if she might say no, but finally she nodded. Bursting with pride, Ruby led her to their master bedroom where she discreetly kicked last night's costume beneath the bed and smoothed the floral comforter where Mame had put a dent in it.

  "They're very nice," Natalie said of the ruffled calico valances that topped the miniblinds, but her eyes darted all around the room. "Do you like to sew?"

  "I don't have a sewing machine," Ruby admitted. "But I can use a glue gun and Velcro."

  Natalie was staring at the two pictures of her and Ray's wedding that she'd put in one frame on their dresser.

  "The pictures aren't very good," she said. "The old justice of the peace took them, and his hands shook something awful."

  Natalie picked up the frame and ran her finger over Ray's blurry face. Suddenly she thrust the gold frame back into Ruby's hands. "I have to go."

  "Already?" Ruby said, fighting her disappointment. It seemed like everyone else had somewhere to be, something important to do. Everyone except her.

  Natalie practically ran down the hall back to the living room where her brother Tony waited. "How about some lunch?" Ruby asked, wanting to prolong their visit. "I can make grilled cheese sandwiches."

  Before Natalie could answer, the doorbell rang, setting off Mame. Ruby grinned—she loved having a doorbell. Delighted at the prospect of a house full of company, she swept by Natalie and Tony and flung open the door. But at the sight of the man standing on her stoop, she banged it closed again.

  "Who is it?" Natalie asked, her brow wrinkled.

  "Nobody," Ruby croaked.

  "Open up, Ms. Hicks," Detective Aldrich boomed, pounding on the door. "We know Dr. Blankenship is with you. We need to talk."

  Across the room, Natalie's eyes widened and she glanced at her brother, for comfort, no doubt. Tony was a religious man, judging from the tattoo on his arm. She had once considered being a nun. Before Ham, that is. Ham had changed everything.

  "What do I do?" Ruby whispered loudly.

  "Now, Ms. Hicks," Aldrich said, rattling the doorknob so hard, the wall shook.

  "Let him in," Natalie said, her voice dull.

  Recalling her promise to God that she'd come clean with the police if she su
rvived the sick spell, Ruby wondered if the detective was psychic. Puffing out her cheeks with a sigh, she opened the door again.

  Detective Aldrich gave her a little salute. "Afternoon, Ms. Hicks. Feeling better?"

  She swallowed—he was psychic. "Y-Yes."

  "May I come in?"

  She shrugged, but stepped aside. Mame went nuts, snapping in the air in the direction of the man who smelled like cheeseburgers. He ignored her pet, and instead, nodded at Natalie and Tony.

  "Dr. Blankenship, Mr. Blankenship. Nice day for a drive, eh?"

  "What do you want?" Natalie asked, clutching her medical bag. She didn't look scared at all, but then again, she wasn't a murderer.

  The detective unfurled a sheet of colored paper with important-looking signatures at the bottom.

  "I know why you're here," Ruby blurted out. She felt everyone's eyes on her. Ruby Hicks, such a little hick.

  "You do?" Aldrich asked.

  "Yes," she said, then released a squirming Mame and took a deep breath. "And I'm ready to come clean."

  Chapter 25

  "So I killed him," Ruby said with a shrug.

  Natalie stared at the young girl sitting across the table. They'd graduated to a larger room at the Paducah State Police post to accommodate the three of them and their hastily summoned lawyers, not to mention Assistant D.A. Keane, and the perpetual Detective Aldrich. Tony waited for her somewhere.

  No one moved for a good thirty seconds. Finally Aldrich cleared his throat. "You're admitting to the murder of Hammond Jackson five years ago?"

  Next to her, Masterson stirred, and she knew what he was thinking—that Ruby's lawyer wasn't, else he'd never let her confess to murder in the presence of so many witnesses. Indeed, Billy Wayne seemed morbidly fascinated by Ruby's tale of repeated sexual abuse at the hand of her mother's boyfriend.

  "Yep," Ruby said with wide-eyed conviction.

  "How did you do it?" Billy Wayne asked, evoking a strangled noise from Masterson.

  Ruby was undaunted. "Mom was working, and Ham was drunk, like always. It was just the two of us. He held me down and when he finished, he zipped his pants and staggered over to the recliner, then conked out. I was getting dizzy because I hadn't taken my insulin, so I went to the bathroom for a syringe. I had to throw up and saw a bottle of rat poison next to the toilet that my mom had bought at the hardware store. And I couldn't think of a bigger rat than Ham."

  Natalie's heart squeezed for the girl. To his credit, even the D.A. looked queasy.

  "So I loaded up the syringe with poison and stuck it in his big stomach. Then I set the poison next to the empty beer bottles beside him and went to a movie."

  Keane wet his lips. "A movie?"

  "The Polar Express in 3D."

  Ruby's level of immaturity in juxtaposition to the horrible things that had been done to her made Natalie swallow hard. Masterson looked away.

  "Ms. Hicks," Keane asked, looking none too comfortable himself, "why are you coming forward with this information now?"

  "I promised."

  "Promised whom?"

  "God," she said solemnly. "I got real sick today and promised if the baby were okay that I'd come clean about what I did to Ham. He deserved to die, but I shouldn't have lied about it."

  The D.A. appeared to be at a loss. He glanced at her attorney, who seemed mesmerized. "You understand, Mr. Lewis, that I'll have to place your client under arrest?"

  Billy Wayne finally came around. "But you heard her—it was self-defense."

  "The man was asleep," Keane said quietly. "And drunk."

  "Not too drunk to rape her," Masterson said, obviously unable to remain silent. Natalie silently cheered.

  "Am I going to prison?" Ruby asked, her eyes filling.

  Keane squirmed when every eye in the room landed on him. "I'll see what I can do. You were a juvenile... the victim was abusing you... you've stayed out of trouble—"

  "Whoa," Aldrich broke in. "Believe me, I won't be losing sleep over the death of a scumbag who liked little girls, but it seems a little too coincidental that Raymond Carmichael went out in a similar manner." He aimed a dark look toward Natalie. "And it seems a little too coincidental that the two of you are so darned friendly." He motioned for a uniformed cop to enter the room. "Add that to the fact that the girl was alone with Mr. Carmichael in the ICU, and my job is pretty clear. You can sort out the charges, Keane. Stand up, Ms. Hicks." He addressed the cop. "Place this woman under arrest."

  Natalie sprang up. "But she was in the hospital only a few hours ago from insulin shock—she needs to rest." Masterson laid a hand on her arm and pressed her back into her seat.

  "She'll be under medical supervision," Keane assured her.

  Ruby cast a tearful glance at Natalie while being led out, which only made them look more guilty, she realized.

  "Now what the hell am I supposed to do?" Billy Wayne demanded.

  Masterson glared at him. "Arrange bail for your client."

  "Oh."

  With a look of disgust, Gaylord Gilliam extended a business card toward Lewis. "Here's the name of a bondsman. Scram."

  Billy Wayne beat a hasty exit, probably hurrying home to reread the laws of arrest.

  Natalie glanced at Beatrix, but the woman stared straight ahead. Was that guilt in her eyes? Why?

  "Well, we're through here," Beatrix's lawyer said, standing.

  "Not exactly," said Aldrich, strolling the perimeter of the room. "You see, while we've been socializing all afternoon, a search warrant was exercised at Mrs. Carmichael's home in Tennessee."

  Beatrix shot up. "What? How dare you?"

  "And guess what we found?"

  Gilliam sputtered like a car. "I forbid you to discuss evidence that might be used against my client in front of the woman who has already been arrested for the crime."

  Keane held up his hand. "Sit down, Mr. Gilliam. From my point of view, I have three women, all with motive, knowledge, and opportunity to execute the murder individually, and a conspiracy between two, or even all three of them seemingly more probable every day. I think it's important for each of them to know how strong our case is, in the event one of them wants to break their silence."

  Cold fear flooded Natalie—they were serious. Dead serious.

  "What could you possibly have against my client?" Gilliam railed.

  Aldrich smiled and whipped out a plastic sleeve that contained what appeared to be a handwritten list.

  Beatrix gasped.

  "A checklist for murder, under your client's mattress." The detective read from the protected sheet. "Step number one: Increase life insurance." He lifted his gaze. "Shall I go on, Mrs. Carmichael?"

  Stunned, Natalie watched the blood drain from the woman's perfectly made-up face.

  "I can explain," Beatrix said, her voice breaking.

  "I'm looking forward to it," Aldrich said, motioning for the uniformed cop to return to the room. "Stand up, Mrs. Carmichael. Officer, place this woman under arrest, too."

  Chapter 26

  "Which do you prefer?" Tony read a morning newspaper at the kitchen table. " 'Femme Fatales,' 'Vengeful Vixens,' or 'Homicidal Housewives'?"

  Natalie winced into her yogurt. "Is that the best they could come up with?"

  "Personally, I give Mrs. Ratchet ten points for her headline 'Surplus Spouses.'"

  "Has she called this morning?"

  "Oh, yeah. Left a message. She still wants to tell your side of the story."

  She licked her spoon slowly. "No one wants to hear my side of the story—the truth is much too anticlimactic."

  He folded the paper across his empty plate. "So now that you've had a few days to think about it, which of them do you think did it?"

  The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question—literally. When Tony last checked, a bookie in St. Louis reported the odds were running 4-1, 3-1, and 3-1 on the guilt of Beatrix, herself, and Ruby, respectively, and even money that they would all be convicted. She idly wondered if Raymond were aliv
e, which bet he'd put her money on.

  "I go back and forth," she said. "It's hard to think that either one of them is capable of killing Raymond."

  "Well, according to what you said, Ruby is definitely capable of killing."

  "That's different." Despite the charges, she felt sorry for the young woman whose childhood must have been wretched. "Of the three of us, I suppose Beatrix would feel the most betrayed, and the most vengeful."

  Tony narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you afraid that Ruby or Beatrix will make up something about you to save their own skin?"

  Terrified. "I can't worry about that."

  "Are you still supposed to take the polygraph tomorrow?"

  She nodded.

  "Have the other women taken one?"

  "I don't know. Keane wants to observe the test, so I'm hoping Masterson and I will get an update."

  "Butler had to fax copies of the loan papers Raymond signed to the D.A.'s office."

  Natalie scraped the fruit-on-the-bottom from the crevices of the yogurt cup. "I'm sure they had to twist his arm." She was aggravated at the man for invading her dreams. Dreams that, by all rights, should be dark and anguished instead of... arousing and anguished.

  "As a matter of fact, they did threaten to send a state trooper to 'help' him before he finally gave in."

  "Now he knows how it feels to be intimidated."

  "He asks about you every day."

  "Gee, business must be slow."

  "Nope. Business is great."

  "It's a good thing—he has two kids to provide for."

  "I know." Tony grinned. "Jeanie and Ally spent the afternoon at the store yesterday. They're regular little dolls."

  Natalie frowned. "Why weren't they in school?"

  He shrugged. "Teacher in-service day or something."

  "A pawnshop hardly seems like a safe place for little girls."

  "Butler keeps all the dangerous goods locked up. The kids love it there. Entertained themselves for hours."

  "So he ignored them?"

  "No." Tony scratched his head. "Why are you determined to dislike this guy?"

  "You're mistaken—I don't care enough to dislike him." She turned to put away the carton of orange juice.