The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (19 page)

"Mrs. Randolph—"

The older woman patted Amanda's hand. "Please, call me Irene. One day I hope we'll be close enough you'll call me Mom, but we'll give that some time."

"Uh, Irene, I have an appointment with my attorney this morning, but if you're still going to be here in a couple of hours, maybe we could grab some lunch." Even as she spoke the words, Amanda wasn't sure where they had come from. This woman was a stranger. She hadn't known her mother-in-law while she was married, and now she was no longer married. Yet there was something compelling about this woman who offered cookies and a family.

The happy smile on Irene's face relieved any misgivings Amanda had about her offer.
"That'd be real nice. I'll just do some shopping while you're gone. They don't have stores like these in Silver Creek."

Amanda regarded her new-found mother-in-law with unexpected affection. How on earth had this gentle, compassionate woman produced Charley? 

"Let me give you my cell phone number," she offered. "I don't have a land line. That's why you couldn't find my listing." She scribbled on a piece of paper, tore it off the pad and handed it to Irene. She started out the door, then turned back. "Charley mentioned one person from Silver Creek. Do you happen to know
a man
named Roland Kimball?"

Irene's lips tightened, and her expression looked as if she'd just tasted something bitter. "Everybody knows Roland Kimball. Big shot. Mayor of the town. Running for governor. Probably gonna win."

Chapter
Nine

"There's no doubt your motorcycle was deliberately sabotaged."

Amanda sat in a comfortable, muted blue client's chair in Brian Edwards' office, listening to the statement delivered in his matter-of-fact lawyer's voice. She understood the words, had even expected to hear them, but
she was having trouble processing the meaning
.

Somebody had damaged her motorcycle. Somebody had wanted her to have a wreck, be hurt, perhaps even die.

Last night she'd listened to Charley tell her the same thing, but she hadn't believed it, wasn't
sure if she was really hearing it from Charley or if she imagined the whole thing.
Today, in the stark light of day, sitting in Brian's
mundane, medium-sized
office
on the fourteenth floor of a building in downtown Dallas, she had to accept it as truth
.

Had
Charley had tampered with her bike? Was he that
upset
about the divorce?

Or was it possible that
Charley's outrageous story about Kimball
was
true? Had the Mayor of Silver Creek tried to kill her to
keep her quiet?

The thought that
either of them
had tried to kill her sent a chill down her spine.

"Our expert tells me these things were done by someone who knows bikes and who knew you would have to ride several miles before your brakes failed and the rear wheel came loose. That person would presumably have known you were going on a trip." His expression grim, Brian took off his glasses and laid them on his polished walnut desk along with the papers from which he'd been reading, then folded his hands and looked at her.

She felt that he wanted her to respond, to say something, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'm sorry, Amanda, but the only conclusion we can reach is that Charley tried to kill you. He knows motorcycles, and he knew you were leaving on a long trip."

Amanda shook her head slowly. "I don't think Charley would do that." Though hadn't she accused him…or his ghost…or her hallucination…of doing just that? "Why would he try to kill me?"

Brian spread his hands. "The two of you were going through a bitter divorce. Perhaps he was angry. Perhaps he didn't want to be left with nothing, wanted to inherit your assets."

Amanda gave a brief snort of laughter. "That's not a whole lot more than nothing."

"People have killed for less."

"Well, he's the one who's dead."
I think.
"So what difference does it make if he tried to kill me?"

Brian replaced his glasses, then took them off again. Amanda liked that he hadn't been a lawyer long enough to develop the air of supreme self-confidence and omniscience that seemed to come to all of them with age, experience and training. On the other hand, it didn't bode well for her that he seemed nervous.

"If you had reason to believe your life was in danger from Charley, it gives us a plea of self-defense."

A spear of cold shot through Amanda's chest and settled in her stomach. "I don't need a plea of self-defense. I didn't kill Charley." She almost added that Charley said Roland Kimball killed him, but bit back the words just in time. Brian would probably leap from self-defense straight to a plea of insanity if she started talking like that.

Her lawyer pulled a yellow legal pad toward him and lifted a silver pen from its holder on his desk. "I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the day Charley was killed, especially your visit to his apartment and the gun he wanted you to bring to him."

The cold in Amanda's gut swirled upward, squeezing her heart. "It sounds like this is getting serious," she said. "Am I going to be arrested?"

"Don't worry," Brian reassured her. "If you are, we'll post bail and get you out immediately."

Bail. We'll post bail and get you out.
Somehow, his words weren't all that reassuring.

***

Amanda met her mother-in-law (that concept still had her mind reeling) at a small restaurant next to an antique store. The place was run by a retired husband and wife who baked their own bread, cooked their own meats and served sandwiches and homemade soup on antique china.
S
he and Irene sat at
a
small round table, eating chicken salad sandwiches and drinking iced tea.

Irene took a bite of her sandwich, swallowed and nodded. "This is good."

"I like this place," Amanda agreed, taking a sip of tea. "I'm glad you do, too. The chicken salad's one of my favorites." She bit into her sandwich, unsure how to make conversation with Charley's mother. Probably
not a good idea to lead with his
other women or his unscrupulous financial activities or
her attorney's
conviction that he'd tried to kill Amanda. Those were not likely things a mother wanted to hear about her son.

"Charley was always different," Irene said. She didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable or at a loss for words concerning the awkward situation.

"Yes," Amanda agreed, peeling off a bit of crust. "He was different."

"None of us was really all that surprised when he disappeared. He always wanted to leave Silver Creek. He wanted bigger things from life, and he was smart enough to get them."

"Mmm
m
," Amanda said noncommittally, taking a large bite of her sandwich so she'd have an excuse not to talk.

"All my kids are special. Hank can build anything. Give him a piece of wood, and he'll make you the prettiest table or bookcase or carving you've ever seen. Travis, he's like a horse whisperer. He can train those horses of his to sit up and talk. Carolyn has a voice like an angel, and Susie makes clothes like you find at Neiman Marcus. The twins, Paula and Penny, they make the best pies and cakes you've ever put in your mouth. Charley was the smart one." She sighed, took a bite of sandwich and chewed slowly, looking into the distance, as if at another time and place. "I wanted him to go to college, become a doctor or a lawyer. I told him we'd help him all we could. But Charley didn't want to go to school. He thought he could make it through life on his charm."

"He could be very charming," Amanda agreed.

"He loved you."

Amanda didn't respond. If this kindly woman wanted to think the best of her dead son, Amanda wasn't going to try to change that opinion.

"When he called, he always told us how happy you two were."

The bit of sandwich Amanda had just swallowed stuck in her throat.
She coughed and swallowed again.
"He called? While we were married?"

"Not often. He said he was in trouble and couldn't let anybody know where he was, but he wanted us to know he was okay. Charley had a good heart. He called when he met you. Wanted us to know he'd met the woman he planned to marry."

"How sweet."

Irene missed the sarcasm. "Yes, he was a sweet boy. He called us when you married, and he called us when you decided to start a family. He was so happy."

Amanda choked, dropped her sandwich and went into a coughing fit.

Irene was immediately on her feet, coming up behind Amanda and pounding on her back.

"I'm okay," Amanda managed to say, though she certainly was not.
Start a family?
Charley's cookie-baking mother was in for a lot of rude shocks. When she found out the truth, she wasn't going to be baking cookies or inviting her beloved son's estranged wife and suspected murderer to stay at the family home.

Amanda cleared her throat. "I need to tell you some things about Charley and me."

With a gentle pat on one shoulder, Irene returned to her seat and looked expectantly at Amanda.

Amanda laid her napkin on the table, took a sip of her iced tea and drew in a deep breath. "Charley's and my marriage wasn't perfect."

Irene nodded knowingly. "Nobody's is. Herbert and I have had our problems, but we worked them out. You and Charley would have worked yours out if he'd lived."

Amanda shook her head. "We were separated. We were getting a divorce."

"I know. The police told me. But I know how much you loved each other. You'd have worked things out if he'd lived." Her voice was calm and certain.

"We weren't planning to start a family."

Irene's expression saddened, but she didn't appear surprised. "Charley's always been a dreamer. Sometimes he tells things the way he wants them to be instead of the way they actually are. He needed a family. It would have settled him down, made him grow up. He'd have been such a good father." Her eyes became moist, and she took a tissue from her purse to dab them.

Amanda had her doubts about Charley's potential fathering abilities, but she elected to keep her opinion to herself just this one time.

At the end of the meal, Irene again extended an invitation to Amanda. "You're welcome at our place any time. You're family. We want to get to know you. Come when you can, leave when you have to, and every day in between will be a gift."

The invitation held an unexpected appeal, but Amanda knew she'd never do it. She wasn't really a part of Charley's big family. If Charley hadn't died, they'd be divorced, and it just didn't seem right to establish a relationship with her former in-laws. She'd be accepting their hospitality under false pretenses.