The First Wife (7 page)

He lowered it. He’d removed his sunglasses and she saw that he had broad, even features
and brown eyes, weathered at the corners from years of squinting in the sun. An everyman
sort of face.

He smiled pleasantly. “Hello, Mrs. Abbott.”

“Cut the crap. It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Me who what?”

“Believes Logan’s first wife is a third missing woman.”

“I’m not alone in that belief.”

“What game are you playing here?”

“This is no game. Ask your husband about True.”

“Don’t tell me what to do in my marriage.”

“Did he tell you he was investigated in her disappearance?”

He hadn’t. But it didn’t matter. “She left him.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

“Get in the car.”

She laughed, the sound disbelieving. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Get in and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I’ll tell you the truth.”

She laughed. “The truth according to you, Chief Williams. Not interested.”

“I’m the law.”

“That’s supposed to mean something? You can’t be the law and have an agenda.”

“Everyone has an agenda. Mine’s uncovering the truth. Bringing it to light.”

Instead of acknowledging him, she spun around and stalked to the Range Rover.

“Do you want to live, Mrs. Abbott?”

She stopped. Looked back at him in disbelief. “Are you threatening me?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Just a friendly heads-up.”

She unlocked the driver-side door, yanked it open. “Leave me alone.”

“Death follows him. It follows that family. You have to ask yourself why.” He stuck
his head out the window and called after her. “Ask him why he lied when we interviewed
him. Why his story kept changing. Does an honest man do that? A concerned husband?”

“You had better move your vehicle now, or I’m going to ram it. Don’t think I won’t.”

Bailey slid in, inserted the key and the powerful engine roared to life. Shaking with
anger, she shifted into reverse. In that same moment, Billy Ray flipped on his cherry
lights and tore out of the parking lot.

CHAPTER TEN

The courtyard fountain mocked Bailey with its rhythmic trickle and splash. The sun,
playing peekaboo with the scattering of clouds, seemed to taunt her for her agitation.

Since returning from town, she had been unable to sit still. She had wandered, inside
to outside, upstairs to downstairs. Her mind moving quicker than her feet. It spun
with the things Billy Ray Williams had said, the things Stephanie had shared.

Four years. Two women missing.

Some thought True made three.

Logan had been questioned in his wife’s disappearance. He’d lied to the police, changed
his story. Why would he have done that? She rubbed her forehead. True hadn’t disappeared.
She’d left of her own free will.

True had been having an affair. Logan had told her so.

“Death follows him. It follows that family.”

What did that mean?

And why hadn’t Logan told her any of this?

What else hadn’t he told her?

A lot, she acknowledged. But what did she expect? She had married a stranger.

No. Bailey drew a deep, steadying breath. She knew him. What she needed to know anyway—that
he was strong but gentle, loving and compassionate. He understood loss, because he
had lost so much. He had promised to never hurt her.

Everything else was nothing.

She would not allow Billy Ray Williams—or anyone else—to steal her happiness.

Bailey heard him arriving home, the crunch of his tires on the gravel drive. She ran
out to meet him, breaking into a smile. “You’re home!”

He caught her in his arms and held her tightly. “You make coming home the highlight
of my day.”

She lifted her face to his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stood a moment, staring stupidly into each other’s eyes. Love drunk, she thought.
Completely ridiculous.

But wonderful. Worries over what she did and didn’t know about her husband and small-town
gossip melted away, and she let herself be wrapped in their love and this perfect
moment.

Until even in his arms, she was cold. Bailey shivered and he drew away. “You should
have grabbed a coat.”

“And shoes.”

He looked down at her bare feet. “Crazy wife. What were you thinking?”

Tell him, Bailey. He’ll answer your questions and everything will make sense again.

Instead, she caught his hand and led him inside. “I’ve opened a bottle of your favorite
Pinot.”

“Pour me a glass. I’ll get cleaned up.”

“Don’t go!”

He frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it and smiled. “What could be wrong?”

He kissed her. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Wait!”

He stopped, frown deepening.

“How’d today go?”

Representatives from the North American Danish Warmblood Association had come to a
neighboring breeding farm, Oak Hill Ranch, to inspect the two-year-olds.

“Really well. Paragon scored an eight and Paradox a nine. To give you an idea, a ten
is virtually unheard of. I wish you had been there.”

If only she had
. “Too many horses and horse people, all talking about—”

“Horses.”

“Exactly.” She waved him off. “Go. I’ll get the wine.”

The minute he disappeared from view, her doubts returned, flooding her thoughts. Not
doubts, she told herself as she poured them both a glass of wine. Concerns.

That she’d married him too fast, that the things she didn’t know about him outweighed
the things she did.

Stop it, Bailey.

Go to him, let him chase your doubts and fears away.

She picked up the two glasses and hurried upstairs. She entered the bedroom; from
the bathroom came the sound of the shower. She crossed to the dresser and set down
the glasses. Her hands, she realized, trembled.

Bailey stared at the ruby red liquid a moment, then shifted her gaze. It landed on
a photograph of her and her mother. That last birthday they had celebrated together.

It was the only photo in the room. She moved her gaze over the bedroom, taking in
every detail, every surface and wall. No framed photographs, awards or other mementos.
Nothing personal. Like a well-appointed suite at a luxury hotel.

It’s what she had felt the first time she had seen the room, but hadn’t been able
to put into words.

She imagined the rest of the house, searching her memory. The portrait of his mother.
The photographs of her. Her show ribbons; the Olympic medal.

But where were the pictures of them all as children? Of holidays? What of grandparents?
She understood removing any traces of True, considering the circumstances, but what
of everyone else? Her mother had even kept a picture of Bailey’s no-good daddy, just
because he was her father.

What of Logan’s father? He’d mentioned him, that he’d passed … but not how. Not when.
Why were there no photographs of him?

Bailey felt sick to her stomach. Light-headed.

She stepped into the bathroom. He stood in the shower with his back to her. Dark hair
slicked to his head. The water sluiced over his wide shoulders, down to the V of his
waist. He was magnificent, beautiful.

But
who
was he?

He turned, saw her and smiled. He opened the glass door, poked his head out. “Hi,
babe.”

“I brought the wine to you.”

“Perfect.” He held out a hand. “Join me?”

He smiled again.
That
smile. The one that made her melt.

“Yes,” she said, her own lips curving up. “I’d like that.”

Bailey slipped out of her jeans and shirt, then took his hand and stepped into the
shower, still in her bra and panties.

“Nice,” he said softly, trailing his finger along the cup’s lacy edge, dipping his
finger under the delicate fabric.

She arched against him. Greedy not just for his clever hands and mouth, but for the
oblivion being with him would bring. The moments of dizzying pleasure, the certainty
that came after.

That he was the man she thought he was. That their fairy tale would have a happy ending.

He pushed her up against the shower wall, hands and mouth everywhere. She shuddered
and gasped, and dragged his mouth up to hers. He lifted her onto him and took her
there, giving her just what she’d longed for.

Oblivion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bailey and Logan lay naked under the sheet, twined together, the ceiling fan circling
lazily above them. She trailed her fingers across his chest, thinking of the way she
had doubted him. The way she had let her imaginings run away with her.

“Tell me about your day, sweetheart.”

As if he had read her mind. She nuzzled his neck. “I spent much of it being ridiculous.”

He tipped his head to see her face. “What does
that
mean?”

She sat up. “Our wine, I almost forgot.”

She slipped out of bed and crossed to retrieve it.

“Nice view.”

She glanced over her shoulder and struck a pose. “Glad to hear that.”

“Come back here.”

She collected the two glasses and returned to the bed. He sat propped up against pillows,
the sheet puddled in his lap, chest, hip and thigh gloriously exposed.

“I like
that
view.” She handed him a glass, then crawled in beside him.

“Did you plan anything for dinner?”

She shook her head.

“We could drive into the city?”

“Would that involve putting on clothes?”

“Unfortunately, it would.”

“I could whip up a salad? Or some eggs?”

He made a face. “Faye’s is open for dinner.”

“No, not Faye’s.”

“Because you were already there today?”

She couldn’t hide her shock. “Who told you that?”

“I was joking. Were you there today?”

For a moment, she didn’t respond. His forehead wrinkled. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s … wrong.”

“So, you were there?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had a BLT. Hardly a crime.”

“I didn’t suggest you being there was a crime. You’re just acting … guilty.”

Her cheeks heated. She was. And why? She had done nothing wrong.

She opened her mouth, then shut it. This was her opportunity. Why was she hesitating?
The longer she did, the stranger she felt about it. And the more uncomfortable he
was becoming. She could see it in his expression.

“I was pulled over today,” she said.

“You got a ticket?” He sounded amused.

“A warning. It was a local cop.”

“Billy Ray Williams.” He said the name flatly, but something dangerous glittered in
his eyes.

“Yes. I … there’s bad blood between the two of you.”

“You could say that.”

She pressed on. “What’s that all about?”

“Ancient history. Did Williams harass you?”

“Why would he?” she asked, the avoidance feeling like a lie.

He didn’t respond and she went on. “I heard something at Faye’s—”

He snorted. “I hope you took it for what it was worth. That place’s a hotbed for local
gossip. And the Abbott family is always a favorite topic.”

She cringed at the bitterness in his tone and wanted to drop the whole thing. Just
go on as if today had never happened.

But she couldn’t do that. “I saw a newspaper. I read about the missing women. Why
didn’t you tell me about them?”

“It didn’t cross my mind.” He turned to fully face her. “That has nothing to do with
us, Bailey.”

“Doesn’t it, Logan?”

“What does
that
mean?”

“I … overheard some conversation. About True.”

He stiffened. “You want to be more specific?”

“That she … that she didn’t leave you. That she went missing and should have been
considered a victim of foul play. Like the other two.”

“I told you this would happen, I told you about the gossip.”

“But not about these other two … I just thought we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. True left me. Those other two women, no one knows
what happened to them.”

“But—”

“You’re going to believe gossip over what your husband tells you is true?”

“That’s the problem. You haven’t told me anything.”

“What else do you need to know?”

“Everything! How can I defend you if I don’t know—”

“Why would you have to defend me?”

“Against people who have an ax to grind.” She slipped out of bed and into her robe.
“Or these small-minded gossips.”

“It shouldn’t matter to you.”

His voice vibrated with hurt. She steeled herself against the way it made her feel.

“It doesn’t.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “What matters is you being completely
open and honest with me. Hiding things from me—”

“Now I’m
hiding
things from you?”

“I didn’t say that. I simply—”

“You, too, Bailey?” He threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He grabbed his
jeans and yanked them on. “One trip into town and suddenly I’m a monster?”

“I didn’t say that, either!” She jumped to her feet. “Logan, I’d never say that.”

She watched helplessly as he put on his shirt and socks, then stalked to the closet
for his boots.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Just tell me what happened!”

He spun to face her. “I did! I came home and she was gone. What else do you need to
know?”

“Why do people say that about you? Why would they?”

“Because they found her vehicle at the side of the road!” The words exploded from
him. “Unlocked, her keys in it! And I lied about the last time I saw her! Satisfied?”

She brought a hand to her mouth, took a step backward. “Oh, my God, like the others.”

“I’m out of here.”

“Wait! Talk to me!” He didn’t and she ran after him. “Why’d you lie to the police,
Logan?”

He stopped, face white with fury. “My pride,” he ground out. “Ironic, isn’t it? I
didn’t want our relationship to be on everyone’s lips, and it’s still all they’re
talking about. Even you.”