Our Husband (a humorous romantic mystery) by Stephanie Bond Page A
Authors: Stephanie Bond
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bunch of kids running around or something?"
She poured the coffee down the drain of the porcelain sink. "As a matter of fact, the younger woman is pregnant."
"The stripper?"
She nodded.
"Wow, good thing you don't need Raymond's money because it sounds like you'd have to stand in line."
"As it turns out," Natalie said, thinking she really should take down the café curtains and wash them, "Raymond also had a
gambling problem I didn't know about. He depleted our accounts."
Behind her, Tony's spoon clattered against the table. "Are you saying you're broke?"
From the outrage in his voice, she surmised he had indeed been hoping for a handout. "It appears so."
"But we still have Rose Marie's house," he said, his tone elevated. "This place has to be worth a bundle."
We —how typical. "I'll do all I can to keep Rose Marie's house."
"So you're behind on a few bills—you have your own practice, for heaven's sake."
An unfortunate bug flew into the web, and the spider made short work of the insect. "Not for long. The town will hold it
against me when word gets around that my husband was a bigamist."
"Well, technically, he was a trigamist, but have you told anyone?"
"Just you." Had the windowpane always been cracked? She must be the most unobservant person breathing.
"Then you don't have anything to worry about. The funeral was in Kentucky, and he's buried in Tennessee. As long as the
two other broads keep quiet, why does anyone here in little old Smiley, Missouri have to know Raymond pulled a fast one on
you?"
Natalie set down her cup and turned back to face him, holding on to the counter. "Because it's possible that Raymond's
death wasn't from natural causes."
"I'll say—having all three of his wives show up at once is damned unnatural."
"Tony, the medical examiner thinks Raymond might have been... murdered."
He came out of his seat, spewing pasta. "What? How?"
She lifted her hands. "The Kentucky State Police showed up in Tennessee yesterday after the funeral, but all they would
say is they suspect Raymond was given something to trigger the heart attack."
Tony frowned. "Who'd want to kill—" His eyes bulged. He crossed to the sink and clasped her shoulders. "They'll go
easier on you if you confess. Just tell them the mailbox told you to do it and they’ll send you to a hospital instead of prison."
Natalie shrugged off his hands. "Are you insane? How could you even think such a thing?"
"Well... you're a doctor, and besides, who could blame you if you did kill the bastard?"
"But I didn't!"
He held up his hands. "Okay. So, do you think one of the other wives could have offed him?"
She pressed her hands to her temples. "I'm not thinking, period. It hasn't sunk in."
"So what now?"
"The police want to question me. I'm meeting my lawyer in Paducah in a few hours."
"Do the police know about the bigamy thing?"
She nodded. "They linked him to the woman in Kentucky first, but the funeral home led them to his wife in Tennessee and
to the gravesite. They knew we were all connected to him somehow, they just didn't know the specifics."
"Have they already questioned the other two women?"
"No, they're supposed to be questioned today, too."
"Who's going first?"
She frowned. "What does it matter?"
"The person they interview first has the advantage."
"I don't care who is interviewed first, because I don't believe Raymond was murdered. I was there, I saw him have a heart
attack."
"They must have some kind of evidence. You shouldn't take this lightly."
"Take what lightly? Even if Raymond was murdered, which he wasn't, I don't have anything to worry about because I
certainly didn't kill him."
Tony frowned. "The prisons are full of innocent people, Nat."
"Oh, right."
"I'm serious. Some people break under the pressure and look guilty even if they aren't. All it takes is a motive,
circumstantial evidence, and a persuasive prosecuting attorney."
"Now you're an expert in criminal law?"
"The lockup had a
She poured the coffee down the drain of the porcelain sink. "As a matter of fact, the younger woman is pregnant."
"The stripper?"
She nodded.
"Wow, good thing you don't need Raymond's money because it sounds like you'd have to stand in line."
"As it turns out," Natalie said, thinking she really should take down the café curtains and wash them, "Raymond also had a
gambling problem I didn't know about. He depleted our accounts."
Behind her, Tony's spoon clattered against the table. "Are you saying you're broke?"
From the outrage in his voice, she surmised he had indeed been hoping for a handout. "It appears so."
"But we still have Rose Marie's house," he said, his tone elevated. "This place has to be worth a bundle."
We —how typical. "I'll do all I can to keep Rose Marie's house."
"So you're behind on a few bills—you have your own practice, for heaven's sake."
An unfortunate bug flew into the web, and the spider made short work of the insect. "Not for long. The town will hold it
against me when word gets around that my husband was a bigamist."
"Well, technically, he was a trigamist, but have you told anyone?"
"Just you." Had the windowpane always been cracked? She must be the most unobservant person breathing.
"Then you don't have anything to worry about. The funeral was in Kentucky, and he's buried in Tennessee. As long as the
two other broads keep quiet, why does anyone here in little old Smiley, Missouri have to know Raymond pulled a fast one on
you?"
Natalie set down her cup and turned back to face him, holding on to the counter. "Because it's possible that Raymond's
death wasn't from natural causes."
"I'll say—having all three of his wives show up at once is damned unnatural."
"Tony, the medical examiner thinks Raymond might have been... murdered."
He came out of his seat, spewing pasta. "What? How?"
She lifted her hands. "The Kentucky State Police showed up in Tennessee yesterday after the funeral, but all they would
say is they suspect Raymond was given something to trigger the heart attack."
Tony frowned. "Who'd want to kill—" His eyes bulged. He crossed to the sink and clasped her shoulders. "They'll go
easier on you if you confess. Just tell them the mailbox told you to do it and they’ll send you to a hospital instead of prison."
Natalie shrugged off his hands. "Are you insane? How could you even think such a thing?"
"Well... you're a doctor, and besides, who could blame you if you did kill the bastard?"
"But I didn't!"
He held up his hands. "Okay. So, do you think one of the other wives could have offed him?"
She pressed her hands to her temples. "I'm not thinking, period. It hasn't sunk in."
"So what now?"
"The police want to question me. I'm meeting my lawyer in Paducah in a few hours."
"Do the police know about the bigamy thing?"
She nodded. "They linked him to the woman in Kentucky first, but the funeral home led them to his wife in Tennessee and
to the gravesite. They knew we were all connected to him somehow, they just didn't know the specifics."
"Have they already questioned the other two women?"
"No, they're supposed to be questioned today, too."
"Who's going first?"
She frowned. "What does it matter?"
"The person they interview first has the advantage."
"I don't care who is interviewed first, because I don't believe Raymond was murdered. I was there, I saw him have a heart
attack."
"They must have some kind of evidence. You shouldn't take this lightly."
"Take what lightly? Even if Raymond was murdered, which he wasn't, I don't have anything to worry about because I
certainly didn't kill him."
Tony frowned. "The prisons are full of innocent people, Nat."
"Oh, right."
"I'm serious. Some people break under the pressure and look guilty even if they aren't. All it takes is a motive,
circumstantial evidence, and a persuasive prosecuting attorney."
"Now you're an expert in criminal law?"
"The lockup had a
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