Our Husband (a humorous romantic mystery) (8 page)

her mother were alive to witness this unbelievable humiliation, she wouldn't begrudge her a comforting bout of gnawing.

She, along with everyone else, heard Ruby coming before they saw her. Her unmistakable high-pitched voice, the
clomp-

clomp
of...

Natalie swallowed as the door swung open. Of white vinyl thigh-high go-go boots.

The young woman pranced in, pale but glowing, shadowed by a gum-popping slick-haired man wearing a short-sleeve

plaid shirt and carrying a Mead binder.

"How y'all doing today?" he asked, grinning and popping.

"Who are you?" Gilliam yelled.

"Billy Wayne Lewis, Attorney-
at
-Law," the man announced, then jerked his thumb toward Ruby. "Her cousin, twice

removed."

Gilliam smirked. "Speaking of remove—lose the gum, Billy Bob."

The man stopped midchew. "Billy
Wayne
." He glared at Gilliam while he removed the pink wad with one finger and stuck

it underneath the table. "And this is my client, Ruby Lynn Carmichael."

Ruby smiled, adorably pitiful. "Hi-do."

Masterson and Gilliam both nodded cordially, maintaining stoic expressions, but Natalie didn't miss their heightened

color. They took in Ruby's head of splendid red hair, white halter top, short yellow skirt and, of course, the boots. On the

outside, the men seemed neutral, but inside she knew they were thinking,
Damn, Raymond, how'd you do it
?

How
did
you do it, Raymond? Juggle all of us? Lead a triple life? Sleep at night?

While the men introduced themselves, Natalie smoothed a hand over her khaki skirt, then crossed her arms over her pale

blue button-down. Between Beatrix's sophistication and Ruby's flamboyance, she felt mousy and... beige.

"Won't you have a seat?" Masterson said to Ruby, gesturing vaguely, as if he didn't want to be responsible for a seating

arrangement that might lead to injuries.

"Hi, Natalie," she chirped, dropping into the seat at the head of the table between the two women. "Beatrix," she added

coolly.

While Beatrix's eyes rolled back in her head, Natalie managed a noncommittal grimace in Ruby's direction, still torn

between hating the young woman and feeling sorry for her. Ruby probably assumed they were friends because she had helped

bring the girl around at the hospital when she'd fainted at the pronouncement of Raymond's death. In truth, she'd simply assisted

the doctor by elevating Ruby's legs.

Long, slender legs that had been wrapped around Raymond's waist God only knew how many times.

Natalie closed her eyes and forced her mind back to the legal matters at hand. After all, the sleepless nights ahead would

provide sufficient time to torment herself.

The receptionist wheeled in a tray of coffee and tea in deference to the late arrivals, cast a nervous smile over the motley

group, which had fallen silent, then exited, pronto. The men poured coffee into Styrofoam cups and passed them around the

table with sugar packets.

"Coffee beans have to be picked one at a time," Ruby announced to the group.

Beatrix cut her eyes toward the young woman. "Don't. Start."

Natalie stared at her own unwanted cup, her stomach roiling from the strong aroma, thinking how absurd that they were

indulging in morning routines while her husband lay in the morgue across town, waiting for them to reach some kind of

consensus.

"Can we
please
get on with this?" she asked, her strident voice surprising even herself.

The attorneys respectively scurried, swaggered, and strolled to their seats, then Gilliam and Masterson seemingly

competed to see who could remove the most paperwork from their crammed briefcases to stack on the table. Billy Wayne

joined the race, emptying his binder down to a plastic protractor, while Natalie wondered if sheer frustration could be the

elusive scientific root of spontaneous combustion. She shot Masterson an exasperated look, spurring him to his feet.

"We are gathered here today—" He flushed, then coughed. "I mean, we're here this morning to discuss the ramifications of

the events which have recently come to light in the wake of Raymond Carmichael's untimely, um... passing."

Natalie glanced toward the door, still holding onto a thread of hope that Raymond would burst into the room guffawing,

admitting that one of his practical jokes had gone too far, announcing he was whisking her off to Rome for their anniversary.

Six years ago today they had exchanged vows.
Forsaking all others, until death do us part
. She willed the hulking door to

open, but it sat still, separating her from the sane world.

Masterson squirmed. "According to my initial research, it appears that Mr. Carmichael, whether intentionally or

inadvertently, married my client, Natalie Marie Blankenship six years ago without securing a divorce from his first wife,

Beatrix Lenore Richardson."

She didn't belong here, Natalie thought, looking around the table at people she didn't want to know. These kinds of squalid

things happened to naïve housewives in Peoria whose husbands were pilots... whose waistlines had vanished... whose

marriages were deplorable.

"It further appears that Mr. Carmichael, whether intentionally or inadvertently, married—" He referred to a legal pad.

"Ruby Lynn Hicks six weeks ago without securing a divorce either from his first wife or from his, um, second wife."

Women whose tongues were sharp... whose demands were many... whose eyes or hearts strayed.

"Inadvertently?" Beatrix asked. "Raymond knew exactly what he was doing—he simply hadn't planned on getting caught."

"Or on dying," Ruby added, nodding as if she were making a significant contribution.

Natalie hadn't yet divulged Raymond's betrayal to anyone other than Masterson, but not because of the pact of silence

Beatrix had extracted from them in the surreal aftermath of the doctor's pronouncement at the hospital. She simply needed time

to come to grips with the situation herself before deciding how much information, if any, to reveal to friends and family.

"I'm only trying to make the best of a very difficult situation," Masterson said to Beatrix, mopping his neck with a

handkerchief.

She'd given Sara just enough details about Raymond's death to satisfy a few shocked questions, then asked her nurse to

arrange for a retired physician to fill in for a couple of weeks.

Gilliam waved in the air. "Let's cut through the crap, Masterson. As Raymond's legitimate wife and sole heir, my client is

entitled to all of his assets, and to half of his jointly owned assets, including homes, cars, jewelry, et cetera, et cetera."

She hadn't even had time to call her brother Tony. Actually, she'd had time, but not the strength to deal with him.

"Sole heir?" Masterson fished through the papers on the table, then held up a substantial-looking document. "I have a copy

of Mr. Carmichael's will, dated January of this year, where he names Natalie as his heir."

So much to do. She still hadn't unpacked Raymond's book collection. And Rose Marie's flower garden in the back yard

was getting out of hand.

"May I see the will?" Gilliam asked, pushing reading glasses on his face.

Plus Raymond's den was a disaster. His desk hadn't yielded documents easily—one locked drawer had required a chisel

before revealing expense reports and travel logs that showed he'd spent every other weekend of the last year with her or

Beatrix, but most weekdays in the vicinity of Ruby.

"Ah," Gilliam said, triumphant. "This will specifies 'Natalie, my wife' as Mr. Carmichael's heir. But since we've already

determined that she isn't his wife, the point is moot."

No wonder he'd been so exhausted on Friday nights.

"Even without a valid marriage license, Natalie and Raymond were practically common-law man and wife according to

the state statute," Masterson said.

She'd refused to live with Raymond despite his numerous requests. Blame it on her strict Pentecostal upbringing, but she'd

held out for a commitment. And now she'd discovered she'd been fornicating with another woman's husband for nearly seven

years. If she were to die of humiliation, she would go straight to hell.

"'Practically' isn't a legal term," Gilliam snapped. "And if the man is already married, he can't very well be the common-

law husband of someone else. Did you get your law degree through the mail, counselor?"

The town of Smiley would crucify her if the facts surrounding her marriage were released, guilt be damned. The gossip

alone would destroy her practice, her reputation, her sanctity, everything she held dear. The events unfolded in her head as if

on a movie screen, with the absence of a happy ending.

"What's wrong with getting a law degree through the mail?" Billy Wayne demanded.

Masterson had already warned her they were on shaky legal ground. Raymond had left her in a precarious situation,

pledging her to his debts, but none of his assets, at least not legitimately. Short of negotiation and good will, her financial

outlook was bleak.

Gilliam withdrew two forms from his impressive pile, then slid one in front of her, and one in front of Ruby. She tried to

focus on the print, but her head was still sore from the last headache, and another one was descending. Mercifully, Masterson

took the paper from her.

"The law is clearly on Mrs. Carmichael's side," Gilliam continued with a cordial smile. "But in lieu of this unusual

situation, my client has graciously agreed to forego her claim to the assets Mr. Carmichael owned in conjunction with Ms.

Blankenship and Ms. Hicks."

Blankenship
. Indeed, she had no real claim to Raymond's name. By all rights, she should change her name back. New

driver's license... new credit cards... new name on her office door.

"In return for their silence," Masterson said, then read from the paper. "The undersigned hereby agrees not to discuss the

nature or details of their relationship with Raymond A. Carmichael with any living person, and will take steps to expunge all

connections to his name from theirs."

Six years of her life, negated. Erased. Highlighted and deleted.

Gilliam adopted an accommodating stance, his fleshy mouth curling. "Mrs. Carmichael enjoys a reputable standing within

her community—I'm sure you understand how the stigma of bigamy would cast a shadow over her position and her way of life.

This agreement simply assures her of the cooperation of the other two women involved to keep the details of Raymond's

indiscretion confidential."

DEAD MAN LEAVES BEHIND THREE WIVES. VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE BY TEXTING 1 FOR THE SOCIALITE, 2

FOR THE SAINT, OR 3 FOR THE SIREN.

Next to her, Masterson scribbled a note on the legal pad for her eyes only.
You should consider signing the form to

protect your assets
.

Nausea rolled in her stomach, and she pushed away the tablet. "Right now, I simply want to know how and where my hus

—Raymond will be... buried."

Beatrix fingered the double strand of pearls at her neck, a faint smile of authority on her lips—not exactly the picture of the

grieving widow. "After a memorial service in Northbend,
my
husband will be buried in my family plot."

Natalie ached to scream. Instead, she gripped a fistful of skirt in her lap. "Raymond told me many times he wanted to be

cremated."

Ruby raised her hand. When everyone looked her way, she slung her hair over her shoulders, exposing her remarkable

cleavage bound up in the white halter top. "Ray and I had a long talk about freeze-drying his body when he died and bringing

him back to life later on."

Beatrix let out a sharp burst of humorless laughter. "Oh, that's rich. The only reason I'd want to bring the bastard back to

life would be to kill him again."

Natalie's hands twitched to slap her, but she didn't have the energy.

Besides, Ruby beat her to the punch.

The redhead lunged across the table at Beatrix with a shriek, swinging wildly. When Billy Wayne and Gilliam dragged her

off, she came away with more than a few blond hairs in her fists. Ruby strained against the men's hands, spitting and kicking.

Gilliam's hat went flying.

Beatrix's eyes bulged, and she held on to her mussed hair with both hands, her body shaking and her face scarlet. "How

dare
you assault me, you, you...
bimbo
! Gaylord, I want her arrested immediately!"

Natalie sat perfectly still, entertaining the thought that if the two women were allowed to fight to the death, her situation

would improve by fifty percent. And despite Ruby's youth and energy, she'd put five dollars on Beatrix.

"Calm down, Beatrix," Gilliam advised in a soothing tone while Billy Wayne cajoled Ruby back into her chair, now

moved safely out of striking distance.

"Don't even
think
about coming to the memorial service," Beatrix warned, shaking a finger at both of them, smoothing her

hair with her other hand. "I'll have you both hauled away."

Natalie shook her head, surprisingly calm although her heart jerked frantically at the woman's words. "You can't deny me