Our Husband

by Stephanie Bond

  "Maybe you should suggest a full psych workup."

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He grinned. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Psychology degree from Penn State."

  Her eyes widened. "Now you're scaring me." She set down her coffee cup. "I'm going to call Masterson to get his advice."

  "I'm going to find a trash bin and get rid of this smelly garbage."

  She walked through the hall that was big enough to bowl in toward the massive living room. As she reached the marble foyer, the doorbell rang, scaring the bejesus out of her. Beatrix was coming down the stairs, knotting the ties of her robe. She held up a hand to stop Natalie from answering the door.

  Natalie's heart pounded as Beatrix stepped to the window of the second-floor landing and peeked through a shutter. Then her shoulders sagged in relief. "It's just the florist—more goddamned flowers for Raymond."

  "Do you want me to answer the door for you?"

  "Yeah, but don't tip the kid, for heaven's sake. I've already given him enough for college tuition."

  Noting that sobriety had restored Beatrix's good cheer, Natalie unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

  Her first thought was that someone was incredibly generous to send such a huge vase of red roses.

  Her second thought was that she would be reunited with her beloved Aunt Rose Marie sooner than she'd planned.

  Chapter 40

  In slow motion, Beatrix watched the vase of red roses crash to the ground and a handgun appear inches from Natalie's face. The delivery person wore a loose uniform over her long curvy figure, gloves, and a snug hood pulled over her head.

  But several strands of long hair had managed to escape the hood—several strands of long red hair.

  She thought she might be sick.

  "Move back," the woman ordered, then kicked the door closed.

  If she remained perfectly still, perhaps she could go undetected until they moved out of the foyer. Then she could call for help. Her hungover brain chugged slowly—her revolver was on the table in the living room. Shit. If she got out of this alive, sweet Jesus, she would never drink anything but Evian.

  "Beatrix," the woman growled. "Get your ass down here. Now."

  So much for going undetected. The woman swung the gun back and forth to let them know she could pull the trigger at any minute. Where the hell was that good-looking behemoth when you needed him? Beatrix descended the stairs very slowly, then walked to stand next to Natalie. Perhaps together they could reason with the young woman. "Ruby, don't do this."

  The woman stopped and stood fully erect. "Ruby?" She laughed, a sound that struck a memory chord in the back of Beatrix's mind. "Well, you're right about one thing. I'm going to let poor little Ruby take the rap, but I think it'll be more fun if you know the truth." She pulled off the hood in one motion, sending piles of red hair flying. A red wig.

  But the face beneath the wig wasn't Ruby's, and it wasn't young. And for one long moment, it wasn't familiar. Then her heart dropped to her knees. "Blanche Grogan."

  The woman smiled. "Hello, Beatrix. It's been a long time. How's that lying, cheating husband of yours? You know, the man you stole from me, then left me a laughingstock?" She put one hand to her temple. "Oh, wait—he's dead."

  Natalie tried to speak past her tightened throat. "You... killed... Raymond?"

  "Well, I didn't want to. We ran into each other at a conference several months ago, and picked right up where we left off." Her face was mean and gloating. "I always knew he loved me, but your daddy had all the money in the state, so he married you." Her hand began to shake, and she looked confused, far away. "Raymond told me he'd always loved me and he would divorce you so we could marry. But I got smart this time and did a little investigative work. Not only had he not divorced you, but he was married to two other losers besides."

  "Wh-What did you do?" Beatrix asked, trying to find something in the woman's eyes that was reasonable, lucid.

  "Did you know that I got married?" Blanche asked, lifting her chin.

  "Yes, to a doctor, I recall."

  "I hated him. He kept putting me in hospitals, telling people I was crazy. He took ouabain for his heart and made the mistake of telling me one day that too much of it would kill him. So I helped him along."

  "What about Raymond?"

  "Do you believe he had the nerve to propose to me?" she asked. "When I told him I knew his dirty little secret, he told me it didn't matter—that no one would believe a crazy woman like me." She laughed. "It was tricky, but this 'crazy woman' was able to get rid of him and make sure the three of you met at the hospital. I wanted you to suffer, Beatrix. Who knew things would work out this well? I've been having the time of my life watching the three of you dig yourselves deeper and deeper into a hole."

  Out of the corner of her eye, Beatrix saw Brian sneaking up the hall. "Okay, Raymond's dead, and I've suffered. Why are you here?"

  "Because," she said in a superior tone, "I realized that I could get rid of all of Raymond's wives this way." She whipped out a tiny plastic bag. "They'll find the two of you dead and a few of Ruby's long, red hairs. Oh, and I rented the Taurus in her name—it's just down the road. I'll make sure several people see me driving around in the wig. Ruby will go to prison and guess who has enough money and clout now to adopt Raymond's baby when she has to give it up?"

  Not you, you lunatic. "You'll make a wonderful mother, Blanche. Now why don't you put down the gun and let's talk?"

  "Talk?" The woman's arm straightened and she took aim with the automatic. "How about pray?"

  With a whooshing sound, Brian tackled Beatrix and Natalie from the side, shoving them so hard they were lifted off the ground. Beatrix heard a bone or two crack as she fell hard on the cold, slick marble, but all she could think about was reaching her revolver. Behind her, Blanche's gun went off three times, followed by ricocheting pings. She clawed her way to the table and reached for the revolver only to realize the bones cracking must have been in her right arm, since she couldn't use it. She grabbed the gun with her left hand and turned, horrified to see Natalie lying still. Brian, whose shirt was soaked with blood from an unseen wound, wrestled with Blanche, who was still holding the gun. She was no match for his size, but he was no match for her insanity. Beatrix took shaking aim with her left hand and pulled the trigger.

  Blanche dropped to the floor and Brian went with her momentum. He rolled off the woman and dragged himself to his feet, holding his side. When he saw Natalie, his face went ashen.

  "Don't pass out on me," Beatrix warned him, then stooped to find a pulse on Natalie's wrist before giving him a reassuring wink. "She must have hit her head when you tackled us." Assuming some of his weight with her left side, she helped him to the sofa, trying not to think about the bloodstain on her four-thousand-dollar couch. Or the events she'd set into motion twenty-some years ago for a woman who had once called her a friend. With her left hand she yanked up the phone and awkwardly punched in 911.

  "Nice shot," Brian murmured weakly.

  "Thanks to target practice. It was one of the ways I was planning to kill Raymond."

  "Oh."

  "Yes, operator, there is an emergency at 2525 Saddlebrook. One person is dead, one is almost dead, and one will wish she were tomorrow when she wakes up."

  Chapter 41

  Ruby stopped outside the hospital door and crossed her fingers. Then she turned the knob—hard to do with crossed fingers—and poked her head inside the room.

  Beatrix's eyes flew open at the noise.

  "Hi," Ruby said, and offered a smile.

  To her amazement, Beatrix smiled back. "Hello, Ruby. Come in."

  "I promise I won't stay too long," she said. "I brought you some cookies," she said, holding up a little plastic container. "Chocolate chip."

  "My favorite."

  "Mame's too." She moved closer to the bed. "Wow, cool cast. Can I be the first to sign it?"

  Beatrix smiled and nodded against the pillow.

  Good thin
g she had a Chango marker pen in her purse—it wrote two colors at once. Being real careful not to press down, she put a big swirl on the "Y" and made a smiley face in the top of the "R." "There. How are you feeling?"

  "Old."

  "Well, you look great."

  "Have you seen Natalie and Brian?"

  Ruby fell into the guest chair and nodded. "Natalie's still got a pump knot on her head, but she said she was feeling fine. Brian said he could go home in a couple of days. He's cute, don't you think?"

  Beatrix nodded.

  "Do you think they're in love?"

  "I hope so."

  She picked at a raveling at the hem of her sleeve. "I wanted to thank you, Beatrix."

  Beatrix frowned. "Whatever for?"

  "Detective Aldrich told me that woman who killed Raymond wanted my baby, so thank you for stopping her."

  "You're welcome, but they would never let someone as nutty as Blanche Grogan adopt your baby, or any baby."

  She bit into her lip. "It's funny, isn't it? You have to be rich and successful and not crazy to adopt children that no one else wants or can take care of, but any stupid person can have their own kids."

  Beatrix smiled. "I never thought about it, but I suppose you're right."

  "Do you think I'm smart enough to be a good mother?" The more the baby moved, the more she worried about how she was going to pull it off, this parenting thing. She didn't want to be a failure at absolutely everything in her life.

  Wincing, Beatrix pushed herself up straighter. Ruby leaned forward in case she needed her.

  "Ruby, I think the fact that you're worried about whether you'll be a good mother is a sign that you will be a good mother."

  "You mean even good mothers worry about whether they're good mothers?"

  "Well, I don't have much experience in this department, but I think that good mothers especially worry about whether they're good mothers."

  Ruby smiled as understanding dawned. "Because bad mothers don't care."

  "Precisely."

  She sat back, feeling important, even without her lab coat. "When do you get to go home?"

  "As soon as I can hire someone to stay with me for a few weeks until my arm heals."

  "I'm sure there are lots of people who would jump at the chance."

  "Actually, Ruby, I was hoping you might agree to."

  Stunned, she could only mouth, "Me?"

  Beatrix nodded.

  "Me, live in that big fancy house and help you?"

  "Well, I'll pay you, of course. But it won't be a picnic. You'll have to help me bathe and dress, and drive me around and fix meals."

  She grinned. "I fix an awesome grilled cheese sandwich."

  "I haven't had a good grilled cheese sandwich in a long time, although I think I have a machine that makes them."

  Ruby laughed, already thinking how much she could learn from Beatrix. Then she stopped.

  "What's wrong?"

  "What about... Miss Mame?"

  "Hmm. Well, she'll just have to learn her way around a new house, won't she?"

  She clapped her hands. "It'll be like a vacation."

  "That's another thing," Beatrix said, then wet her lips. "We'll see how it goes, but I've been thinking about how it might work out for both of us if you consider living with me even after the baby is born."

  She didn't know what to say. "I don't know what to say."

  "Say you'll think about it."

  "You'll think about it!" Ruby cried, so happy she couldn't imagine a more wonderful day.

  Chapter 42

  "So you're really going through with it?" Tony asked.

  Natalie sighed. "I've already gone through with it. The agent said I wouldn't get many offers this good. The buyer saw the pictures on the Internet, and was willing to close right away. Easy. It's over."

  "I still think you should stay here and... see what happens. Business is picking up a little, isn't it?"

  "A little, but it's mostly curiosity seekers with a manufactured cough. Yesterday a guy whipped out his phone and took a picture while I was taking his blood pressure." She stopped packing books and squeezed her brother's hand. "Listen, I was fortunate to land this position with a new medical group in Pensacola. Maybe I'll be able to have a normal life in a place where I'm completely anonymous."

  "Sounds like a barrel of fun, all right."

  "Tony, I know you like it here. It's a sacrifice for you to come with me, and I'm grateful."

  "I just don't want you to be alone."

  She smiled.

  "'Course, neither does Butler."

  She frowned. "Tony, we've been through this. I mailed Brian a check this morning from the house proceeds to cover Raymond's debts, and that's the end of our so-called relationship."

  "It doesn't have to be the end."

  "Yes, it does. Right now I need peace and quiet in my life, and Brian Butler is the equivalent of a one-man band."

  Tony leaned on the desk and crossed his arms. "I don't get it—what is it about him that's so... noisy?"

  "Stop."

  "No, humor me. Please."

  Natalie pushed up her sleeves. "He's just so... I don't know—big. He crowds me."

  "And?"

  "And I'm not so sure I like the kind of business he's in. It seems a little... suspect."

  "He's an honest man who runs an honest business."

  "And he's raising those two little girls. I'm not ready to be a mother."

  "He wasn't ready to be a father."

  "And frankly, I'm just not that attracted to the man." A bald-faced lie, but impossible to refute. "He always looks like he just got out of bed, and he doesn't exactly take pains to impress me."

  "No, he's not the kind of guy who has to impress anyone, that's for sure."

  She waved him off. "See—I knew you'd take everything I said and turn it around. Aren't you late for work?"

  "Yep."

  "Have a nice day."

  He shook his head. "Why the man is so crazy about you, I'll never know."

  She scowled after him as he exited the library, then threw herself into getting as many books packed as possible. The man was not crazy about her. He was just crazy, period. Damsel-in-distress syndrome. They'd been thrown together in this whole murder investigation mess, but proximity was no basis for a relationship. And, yes, she was grateful that he'd saved both her life and Beatrix's, even though he'd given her a concussion in the process and nearly induced a secondary stroke when she woke to find him bleeding all over Beatrix's couch. If for no other reason, she hated him for the fact that she...

  Tears spilled over her cheeks. For the fact that she could feel something stronger for a man she'd known mere weeks than for the man to whom she'd been married for six years.

  It scared her, dammit. What if she plowed up her life and her plans and invested in becoming a mother, only to find out years down the road that she wasn't good enough or exciting enough to keep his interest? She refused to spend the rest of her life starting over.

  A sound from the back of the house caught her attention. She wiped her eyes, cursing herself, and went to see if the new bench she ordered had arrived. The least she owed Rose Marie was to leave the garden in better shape than it had been when she moved in.

  But at the back door, she stopped, supremely irritated. Brian was pushing a wheelbarrow of white round stones over the pathway, whistling. She flung open the door and charged down the steps. "What do you think you're doing?"

  He looked up. "Oh, hi. I thought I'd scatter these rocks between the stepping stones—it'll cut down on weeds."

  "You're not supposed to be lifting."

  Brian grinned. "Are you worried about me?"

  She jammed her hands on her hips. "I'm your doctor, remember. Besides, I happen to like the stepping stones just the way they are."

  He set down the wheelbarrow. "Well, since I'll be doing the weeding, the rock is going down."

  "You'll be doing the weeding?"

  He cross
ed his arms and surveyed the area with a proud smile. "It's my garden."

  "Have you lost your mind?"

  "Nope. I just bought this house, and if memory serves, the garden goes with it." He pulled a paper she recognized as the house listing from his back pocket. "Yep, says right here: 'English garden with great hobby potential in back yard.'" He waved the paper for emphasis.

  Her jaw felt loose. "But... but..."

  He shoved the paper back into his pocket. "Now don't start complaining—I gave you a good price."

  "But... but..."

  "Of course, I did throw in a little extra as a bribe in case you wanted to, say... stay?" He gave her a hopeful, little-boy-in-a-man's-body smile.

  Natalie pressed her hand to her heart, feeling its insistence on her palm. Brian's smile was for her alone. If there was such a thing as one moment of transformation in a person's life, this was hers. Her long-held illusion of an orderly, safe existence was not only arrogant, but utterly foolish. She'd married the presumably perfect man—handsome, ambitious, and charming—only to be used and humiliated. And she'd almost allowed Raymond to rob her again, by rendering her too tentative to extend herself to a man who held out the hope of real happiness.

  "Natalie?"

  She lunged for him.

  Epilogue

  Natalie stood with Beatrix and Ruby over Raymond's grave, each holding a long-stemmed red rose. Natalie could scarcely believe the recent changes in her life—she was a bona fide wife and mother now, her days jammed with so many snatches of joy, her existence before seemed comatose by comparison.

  Beatrix's broken arm had healed nicely, although Natalie suspected she had dragged out her recovery longer than necessary to keep Ruby close by. Meanwhile, the younger woman had settled into Beatrix's life with the pervasiveness of a kudzu vine, and despite their constant arguing, it was clear they adored one another. Beatrix was taking cooking classes, of all things, and working part-time in an antique bookstore.

  Ruby's stomach was well-rounded. She was due to deliver a baby girl in a couple of weeks (a relief to Natalie and Beatrix who shared nightmarish visions of Raymond Carmichael's son being unleashed on the unsuspecting women of the world). Flush with pride over her recent GED certification, Ruby chattered on and on about the possibility of taking college classes in the spring. The metamorphosis was nothing short of astounding.