Detective."
"Okay. Your husband was murdered."
Natalie swayed, but caught herself, trying to make sense of the man's words. It was ludicrous. Who on earth would murder
Raymond? At the sound of streaming water, she turned and stared at the growing dark stain on Ruby's shiny red dress.
"Oh, my God," the young woman whispered. "I just peed my pants."
Chapter 10
Tony scoffed. "You're shitting me. Three wives?"
Wrapped in a holey chenille robe, Natalie stood at the kitchen sink with her back to her brother, holding a cup of coffee
that had grown cold. God, how she'd hoped she wouldn't have to tell Tony the sordid truth. "No, I'm not."
"Where are the other two? I mean, what do they do?"
"His real wife lives in her family mansion in northern Tennessee." She'd been in a stupor when they'd dropped Beatrix at
her home, but later Ruby said it looked like "a freaking public library." "I got the impression that she doesn't do much except
complain. The other woman he duped lives in Kentucky outside Paducah. She's... a stripper."
He grunted. "A rich bitch, a doctor, and a stripper?"
She was glad she couldn't see his face. "Raymond was nothing if not magnanimous."
"Damn, sis. No wonder you look like hell."
"I've missed you, too."
"Now I know why you didn't want me at the funeral. I just thought you were ashamed of me."
She was. But at the time she'd been thinking only of her own shame.
"Christ," he said with his mouth full. "I knew Raymond was a player, but I never dreamed he'd go and do something that
stupid."
She set her jaw at Tony's assessment—not criminal and unconscionable, just stupid. Mrs. Ratchet was right, she conceded
as she looked across the dewy back yard; Rose Marie's flower garden was growing wild. Just another in the long list of things
she'd neglected, apparently. Her husband, her finances, her brother, her garden. She turned, already regretting her decision to
allow Tony to stay for a while. "What do you mean, you knew Raymond was a player?"
Tony shrugged and licked the mixing spoon he was using to consume an enormous bowl of pasta salad. Her parents had
been hard pressed to keep enough food on hand when he was growing up—she remembered because her mother had made her
do the shopping. In hindsight, Tony had needed his strength to pull off his many heists.
He looked toward the ceiling. Tony was so handsome, with dusky skin and aquiline features. And she should be so lucky
as to have those long black eyelashes. Prison had given him hard, lean angles, but he was still a striking man.
Tony made a rueful sound with his cheek. "Raymond had the look, you know? Something in the eyes."
Her pulse spiked. As if he, the delinquent, had been savvy enough to see Raymond's flaws, but she, the physician, hadn't.
"Coming from a professional player's point of view, of course," she added, not nicely.
His shoulders sagged, and he resumed eating with somewhat less gusto. "I suppose."
She closed her eyes. How did he do that? Her brother had been a screw-up his entire life, yet was able to make her feel
bad for pointing out that she didn't trust his opinion. Was she so easily manipulated? Had Raymond been attracted to a
weakness in her that made him feel powerful? Was what she'd deemed a cheerful disposition actually him laughing at her the
duration of their counterfeit marriage?
Regardless, her brother wasn't accountable for Raymond's sins. "I shouldn't have said that," she murmured.
"It's okay, sis. What Raymond did was pretty lousy. I know you were crazy about him."
Crazy—how fitting. She turned back to the window because she didn't want him to see her choke up. She was the strong
one. If she broke down, the laws of nature would be set on end.
"Sis, you're still young, you're a doctor, you still got your face and figure. I know it sucks right now, but—"
"There's more." A spider was spinning a web in the branches of an overgrown shrub outside the window.
He scoffed. "What, does he have a
"Okay. Your husband was murdered."
Natalie swayed, but caught herself, trying to make sense of the man's words. It was ludicrous. Who on earth would murder
Raymond? At the sound of streaming water, she turned and stared at the growing dark stain on Ruby's shiny red dress.
"Oh, my God," the young woman whispered. "I just peed my pants."
Chapter 10
Tony scoffed. "You're shitting me. Three wives?"
Wrapped in a holey chenille robe, Natalie stood at the kitchen sink with her back to her brother, holding a cup of coffee
that had grown cold. God, how she'd hoped she wouldn't have to tell Tony the sordid truth. "No, I'm not."
"Where are the other two? I mean, what do they do?"
"His real wife lives in her family mansion in northern Tennessee." She'd been in a stupor when they'd dropped Beatrix at
her home, but later Ruby said it looked like "a freaking public library." "I got the impression that she doesn't do much except
complain. The other woman he duped lives in Kentucky outside Paducah. She's... a stripper."
He grunted. "A rich bitch, a doctor, and a stripper?"
She was glad she couldn't see his face. "Raymond was nothing if not magnanimous."
"Damn, sis. No wonder you look like hell."
"I've missed you, too."
"Now I know why you didn't want me at the funeral. I just thought you were ashamed of me."
She was. But at the time she'd been thinking only of her own shame.
"Christ," he said with his mouth full. "I knew Raymond was a player, but I never dreamed he'd go and do something that
stupid."
She set her jaw at Tony's assessment—not criminal and unconscionable, just stupid. Mrs. Ratchet was right, she conceded
as she looked across the dewy back yard; Rose Marie's flower garden was growing wild. Just another in the long list of things
she'd neglected, apparently. Her husband, her finances, her brother, her garden. She turned, already regretting her decision to
allow Tony to stay for a while. "What do you mean, you knew Raymond was a player?"
Tony shrugged and licked the mixing spoon he was using to consume an enormous bowl of pasta salad. Her parents had
been hard pressed to keep enough food on hand when he was growing up—she remembered because her mother had made her
do the shopping. In hindsight, Tony had needed his strength to pull off his many heists.
He looked toward the ceiling. Tony was so handsome, with dusky skin and aquiline features. And she should be so lucky
as to have those long black eyelashes. Prison had given him hard, lean angles, but he was still a striking man.
Tony made a rueful sound with his cheek. "Raymond had the look, you know? Something in the eyes."
Her pulse spiked. As if he, the delinquent, had been savvy enough to see Raymond's flaws, but she, the physician, hadn't.
"Coming from a professional player's point of view, of course," she added, not nicely.
His shoulders sagged, and he resumed eating with somewhat less gusto. "I suppose."
She closed her eyes. How did he do that? Her brother had been a screw-up his entire life, yet was able to make her feel
bad for pointing out that she didn't trust his opinion. Was she so easily manipulated? Had Raymond been attracted to a
weakness in her that made him feel powerful? Was what she'd deemed a cheerful disposition actually him laughing at her the
duration of their counterfeit marriage?
Regardless, her brother wasn't accountable for Raymond's sins. "I shouldn't have said that," she murmured.
"It's okay, sis. What Raymond did was pretty lousy. I know you were crazy about him."
Crazy—how fitting. She turned back to the window because she didn't want him to see her choke up. She was the strong
one. If she broke down, the laws of nature would be set on end.
"Sis, you're still young, you're a doctor, you still got your face and figure. I know it sucks right now, but—"
"There's more." A spider was spinning a web in the branches of an overgrown shrub outside the window.
He scoffed. "What, does he have a
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