"Of course, she can have milk. I'm not a monster."

"Yes, you may," Jamie said and waited until the door slammed again. "I teach school in inner-city Dallas. Shall we set down some classroom rules here, since we are all living in the same house?"

"Maybe I'm sorry that I didn't ask before I ate the sandwich or drank the tea, but rules or no rules, I'm staying right here until September," Amanda declared. "Aunt Ellie says I need to get my head on straight."

"Apology accepted," Kate said, ignoring the latter part of her statement.

"I vote that we each take care of our own space, keep things picked up in the living area, buy our own food, and do our own cooking. Any leftovers that go in the refrigerator are up for grabs unless we put our name on them," Jamie said.

"Fair enough. Where's the nearest store?" Amanda asked.

"About six or seven miles south in Seymour," Kate answered. "Open until nine every evening. Hopefully the whole thing will be settled by the end of summer."

"The business part might be all done and finished by summer's end, but I'm scarred for life," Amanda whined.

"Stop the dramatics. Think about him in bed with a fifty-five-year-old woman," Jamie said.

"Yuck!" Amanda's nose wrinkled in disgust. "My Conrad wouldn't do that. He might have married her, but he didn't go to bed with her."

"Or all those women he brought up here toward the end of the month? You stupid enough to believe they weren't screwin' like minks?" Jamie argued.

"How do we know Hattie isn't lying or just sayin' those things because Iris was her friend?" Amanda asked.

"It'll be easy to verify," Kate said. "I can check his bank records as soon as the lawyers get this straightened out. I bet we see where he deposited your money, Amanda. There are probably receipts where he bought gasoline right here in Bootleg at the end of every month."

"How could he do this to me?" Amanda whispered.

"You? Do you think you are the only one? He was cheating on all of us outside of being married to us," Jamie said. "Grow up. How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-eight," Amanda said defiantly.

"Then stop acting like you are sixteen."

"And you?" Kate looked over at Jamie. "I'm guessing you are about thirty-five?"

"Thirty-six," Jamie said.

"I'm forty-four," Kate said. "We were all about thirty when he married each of us."

Amanda's chin popped up two inches. "He married you for your money and Jamie to get a kid. He married me for love."

Kate shook her head slowly from side to side. "Wake up and smell the bacon, girl. Jamie, how much is your mortgage?"

"Four hundred eighty-nine dollars and fifty cents a month," Jamie said.

"Amanda"-Kate pointed at her-"your five hundred made her house payment so he could use his money to look around for rich women to fleece."

"No! He wouldn't do that," Amanda declared. "If you are so smart, then why didn't you divorce him? Oh, wait! Because he divorced both of you. When the papers show up, you'll both feel like fools."

Jamie pushed up out of the chair and stretched. "I'm tired of this crap. If you were serious about us using your food for tonight, I'm going to make sandwiches for our supper."

"I was serious, and Amanda, he would never divorce me," Kate said.

"Why? You are old," Amanda said.

Kate took a couple of deep breaths. "Because the prenup said that if he divorced me he only got what he brought into the marriage, and that could fit into a suitcase. If I divorced him, then he was entitled to a lot more. He said on the day that he signed it that he loved me so much that he would never leave me. A year later he vowed to make my life so miserable that I would divorce him and give him what was legally his for marrying someone no one else would have."

"And?" Amanda pressured for more.

"I inherited my mother's stubborn streak," Kate said as she headed inside the house.

CHAPTER SIX.

Kate spread an old quilt out on the ground and sat down. The past two days had been a time of cool adjustment, sometimes a bit awkward, most of the time simply learning to stay out of one another's space. She'd already said more than she'd intended to ever share with these women, and she'd given them permission to use her tea and her food. That was enough.

It would take more than listening to the gentle waves lapping against the grassy shore to comfort her that day. She wished that she was back in her office, where the carpet was every bit as plush as the soft green grass beyond the quilt. Once this was over, she would go home, put it all behind her, and never deal with those two snippy women again.

Gracie's giggles drifted across the slight breeze-she had the spirit of an angel and the smile of an imp. It would take a heart of stone not to be even a little charmed by Miss Gracie. She skipped around the edge of the lake, running back and forth to the lawn chairs Jamie had brought up from the old boathouse for Hattie and Victor.

Kate smiled at the child, and a weight lifted from her soul for a moment.

Jamie sat at the end of the dock with her bare feet in the water. Amanda had propped her swollen feet on a chaise lounge up on the deck. If Kate turned her ear just right, she could hear country music coming from an old boom box that had been in the house fourteen years ago. At least she liked the same kind of music Kate did and not that hard rock stuff.

The hair on Kate's neck prickled, and a chill chased down her spine in spite of the heat. She glanced up to see Waylon walking down the hill carrying sunglasses by one stem, the brim of his cowboy hat obscuring his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he was going to tell her that the whole thing had been solved.

"So you are all still here?" He sat down uninvited on her quilt and stretched out his long legs. His short-sleeved, pearl-snap shirt hugged his body and biceps like it had been tailor made. "I figured one or all of you would last about twenty-four hours and then go scampering back to your own places."

"I don't scamper." Kate's smile at Gracie's antics disappeared, taking the happiness with it.

He chuckled. "But you still aren't best buddies?"

"Sure we are. We're as close as sisters. That's what happens when you plan a murder together," she said sarcastically. "I hope you came to tell me that you found out who killed Conrad and that you won't be showing up here anymore."

"Your wishes and hopes aren't coming true this week."

She didn't know if it was a physical attraction brought on by that confident swagger that jacked her pulse up several notches or if it was anger that he would even entertain the asinine assumption that she would be involved in a crime.

He set his straw cowboy hat on the quilt and tossed his sunglasses inside it. "The sun was still bright when I left Dallas," he said. "So, have you always worked in your family's oil business?"

"I'm sure you have checked into my job, my alibi, talked to my mother, and know where I got my education and that I do not have children or pets," she answered.

"A little prickly tonight, are you?"

"Wouldn't you be if someone accused you of murder?"

"Maybe."

Gracie's dark ponytail flipped back and forth, and her bright-colored shorts and shirt flashed in the moonlight as she ran from the edge of the lake toward the dock. When she passed Kate's quilt, she stopped.

"Kate, guess what? I just stuck my toes in the water and Mama said if it ain't cold we can swim tomorrow." She threw herself down on the quilt, barely missing Waylon's hat and sunglasses. "And guess what else? Hattie says we need to go fishin'. Did you know about the festival? It's got a carnival and rides and a Ferris wheel and funnel cakes and it's all got to do with fishin' so we need to practice?" She inhaled and went on. "I'm going to catch the biggest fish for little kids this year and get the prize. Hattie says it's four tickets to Six Flags and I want to go. Daddy said he'd take me someday, but now he's gone away and Mama will have to take me, but we will get some extra tickets so you can go with us if you want to."

"Wouldn't that be fun?" Kate smiled up at her, pausing the entertaining monologue.

"Gracie!" Jamie yelled from the dock.

"I gotta go. 'Bye." Gracie ran as hard as her little legs would carry her toward the dock.

"Cute kid."

"Yes, she is."

"Ever wish you had a couple of children?"

He had no idea how much his question stung. She'd always wanted children, especially a daughter. But a miscarriage six months after she'd married Conrad had ended that dream. The doctor had said that the possibility of ever conceiving a child was a million to one and carrying one to term would have even slimmer chances.

"Do you?" she shot right back at him.

"I married my career and lost two wives because of it. No children. I'm too old to start now," he said.

"And that is?"

"Forty-five. By the time I got one through college, I'd be pushin' seventy." He pointed at sky over the lake. "Look at that moon and the way it's reflected in the water. Gorgeous, ain't it?"

The lake was indeed acting like a mirror, but she didn't give a damn about the moon. She wanted him to either tell her that she wasn't a suspect or get up off his butt and go find the real killer.

"You didn't answer my question," Waylon said.

"I don't intend to," she said. "What are you doing in Bootleg in the middle of the week?"

"I told you that I have a little ranch in Mabelle. My folks owned it. My dad died several years ago and my mother last year. So I spend most weekends here and come and go pretty often through the week when I can get away from the desk. It's not a long drive from Dallas," Waylon answered.

"So you grew up in this area?" Kate asked.

He nodded. "Went to school right here in Bootleg. Know everyone in this town and quite a few in Seymour."

"Hattie and Victor?"

Another nod. "Yes, and I knew Iris, too. So I already knew the scuttlebutt on Conrad Steele. And before you ask, there was not a shred of evidence that he caused Iris to have that heart attack."

"I wasn't going to ask. Conrad was smarter than that. If he had anything to do with her death, you would never catch him. Did you ever meet him?"

"No, but my mother told me about the little wedding reception at this cabin when they married."

She'd been conned by Conrad with his compliments and pretty face. Waylon couldn't begin to work his charm on her.

"How long are you staying in Bootleg?" she asked.

"A couple of days this time, but I'll be around pretty often. How about you?"

"Until you tell me that I'm not a suspect."

"Fair enough," Waylon said.

Fair?

If life had been fair, Conrad Steele would have never entered her life.

Amanda dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She was doing better. This was the first time she'd gotten all misty eyed that day, but the sunset reminded her of lying on the deck in Conrad's arms the last evening of their honeymoon. Tonight Conrad was supposed to be sitting beside her, his hand on her baby bump, smiling every time their son kicked. The only thing that made her happy was the decision she'd made about his name. When the boy was born, he would be Conrad Jonathan Steele Jr., and she would call him Jonathan or maybe Johnny.

She would raise her son to know that his father was a hero who'd tried to stop a robbery, and she would never tell him about the other two wives or about Iris. He would have to grow up without a strong male role model in his life. Amanda had not had a father figure in her life, either, just Aunt Ellie, but she'd survived. This baby would have a mother who loved and wanted him very much. She swiped at a fresh batch of tears.

She laid her hand on her stomach. "I wanted more for you, baby boy. I wanted you to have the storybook daddy who played catch with you and taught you how to throw a football."

Aunt Ellie's ringtone startled her. She didn't want to talk to anyone right then, but she answered the call. It was Aunt Ellie who'd saved her hide on more than one occasion, so she couldn't be rude.

"I'm on my way home from work and thought we could chat while I drive," she said. "We had a great day. Wanda and I went for the buffet down at the pizza joint on our way home to celebrate."

"I'm watching the sunset from the deck. Don't talk to me about pizza. I'm craving it, and all I had for supper was an omelet and toast."

"You sound depressed. Are you okay? If that place and those two women are upsetting you, it's not good for the baby. Come on home. Wanda has said she'll help me out in the store the rest of the summer so you won't have to come to work every day, but you'd be close to your doctor and you'll be near the people who love you."

Amanda managed a weak smile. "I'm only an hour away from you and my doctor, and I'm fine right here, where Conrad and I spent the happiest time of our marriage."

"And those other two?"

"We're staying out of one another's way for the most part. Jamie and Gracie spend a lot of time down near the lake. The deck is mine unless Gracie decides to play out here, but she's a good kid. She doesn't bother me much. And the front porch is Kate's."

"Well, I hope you find some closure," Aunt Ellie said. "I'm driving into my garage. Talk to you later. Love you, kiddo."

Amanda flipped through the pictures of her and Conrad on her phone, taking time to touch his face on every one. He'd said his "sister" Kate called him Conrad but he hated that name. He'd always wished that their mother, Teresa, would have called him by his middle name, Jonathan, but his father's name was Jonathan James Steele, so he had to be Conrad.

She rolled over to the last picture of them together. Aunt Ellie had taken it in the shop right before he had to leave the last time she'd seen him. His smile was genuine, and his eyes were twinkling. Yes, Conrad loved her. He might not have divorced those other two women, but she would never believe those stories about Iris or about him bringing other women to the cabin. Iris had probably only loved him like a son. If he was here, Conrad could explain the women that Hattie thought she saw at the cabin. They were most likely clothing store owners that he was trying to cultivate to sell him their sale merchandise at the end of every season.

Are you an idiot? a voice in her head shouted. Strange, but it sounded exactly like her best friend, Bailey, who had served as maid of honor at Amanda's wedding. You should be throwing a hissy at that bastard, not moonin' around after him.

She sat up a little straighter. Bailey was in Germany, stationed there with her husband, who was in the service, and Amanda hadn't told her about the situation. Still, that was exactly what she would say if she knew.

Just to be sure, she sent a text to Bailey: Call me when you have time. Lots I need to tell you.

The phone rang before she could lay it back on the table beside her. Amanda hit the screen and answered. "Bailey, what are you doing awake at this hour? It must be four o'clock in the morning there."

"It is, but I'm having one of those sleepless nights. Catch me up," Bailey said.