Thirty-Six and a Half Motives Page 5

“No,” she said softly, “Aunt Bessie’s coming with me.” She grimaced. “I only told her before you because I asked for her help.”

“Oh.” I searched her face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

“For weeks?”She shook her head. “No. You have your own problems to sort out. I still can’t believe Mason left you like that. Especially right after you were kidnapped. What is that man thinking?”

“You can’t blame him, Violet. I did something that hurt him terribly. He has every right to be upset with me.” I swallowed my tears. “I only hope he finds it in his heart to forgive me.”

“What could you have possibly done?” Violet asked in disbelief.

I shook my head. “This is about you, not me. Will you take me to get tested? I want to get it done right away.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She studied me for several seconds and then stood. “No, you’re already doing it.”

I got to my feet and took her hand in mine. “Okay, but I want to come visit you in Texas, all right?”

She squeezed back. “I’m counting on it.”

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Violet sat with me while I had my blood drawn in the clinic, then dropped me off in front of my office downtown. I gave her a long hug, pushing my worries aside as best as I could. When it came down to it, she had to be okay. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

I stood on the sidewalk, waving goodbye as she drove away. When I turned to go inside, I saw Neely Kate through the window, focused on her computer screen. Something made me stop before going in. I couldn’t do anything else to help Violet, but maybe I could still make things better for Neely Kate.

It was time to pay Carter Hale a visit.

Besides, I didn’t just want to grill him about what he was up to with my best friend. I wasn’t happy with the slow wheels of justice in J.R. Simmons’s case, and since Mason and I weren’t on speaking terms right now, and since Joe’s answers were always carefully worded to placate me, I needed to talk to someone else who might know something.

Greta, Carter’s receptionist, looked up from her desk when I walked through the door.

“Hi, Rose. What are you doing here? Carter said your legal troubles were all cleared up.”

“They are . . . kind of. I was wondering if he was in. I need to talk to him about some follow-up issues.”

“Sure, just let me buzz him,” she said, picking up the phone. I half expected him to tell her no, but to my surprise, she gave me a warm smile. “He says to go on back.”

His door was ajar when I got to the end of the short hall. I pushed it open and found him sitting at his desk, his feet kicked up, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Why, Rose Gardner, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“I thought I’d stop by to chat,” I said, stepping through the doorway.

His eyes lost some of his sparkle, but his grin remained in place. “I’m not able to discuss Ms. Colson’s case with you, no matter how close the two of you are. She’s asked me to keep it strictly confidential.”

That would have surprised me if I hadn’t known Neely Kate’s cousins’ penchant for nosiness. I wouldn’t put it past them to needle Carter for information. But now I couldn’t very well ask him any questions about the divorce papers. I’d have to swing the conversation back later. “Well, I’m not here to ask about her, so I guess you’re in the clear.”

He sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. “If that’s the case, then why don’t you close the door behind you and take a seat?” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk.

I shut the door and perched on the same chair I’d sat in a week ago, back when I was still facing murder charges. Which got me thinking—we still didn’t know a thing about the man who’d bailed me out of jail.“I wanted to see if you know what’s going on with J.R.’s case, and if you found out anything about Glenn Stout.”

He laughed. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Did Glenn Stout pick up the million dollars he posted as my bail?”

“Nope.”

“So the money’s still sitting there?”

“Yep.”

“Who leaves one million dollars sitting around?” I asked in disbelief.

He winked. “That is the million dollar question.”

I shot him a glare. “Very funny.”

He sat back in his chair. “In all seriousness, I suspect he’s waiting until things die down, hoping he can pick it up without someone noticing.”

“Is that likely to happen?”

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Although, frankly, other than your boyfriend, no one’s paying much attention.”

I sat up. “Mason’s watching?”

“Yeah, he’s given strict orders to the court clerks to call him the moment someone shows up to pick up the money.”

I wasn’t prepared for the hope that warmed my chest. Mason still cared.

“But we’re watching, too,” Carter said in a slow drawl.

“And why do you care?” I asked.

“Because it’s a true mystery, Lady. And any mystery man with that much cash is bound to be bad news.”

“But why do you care? I’m not your client anymore.”

“You really believe that?” He released a short chuckle. “I’m still very much your attorney.”

“Why?”

“More like who. Skeeter Malcolm doesn’t buy the story that J.R. Simmons orchestrated your kidnapping. He believed the bastard when he denied it. If that’s true, whoever did it is still on the loose. Not to mention that J.R. definitely has it out for you now, if he didn’t before.”

“He’s worried about J.R. coming after him?”

“No. More like he’s worried about J.R. coming after you.”

“But J.R.’s in jail—or at least he’s about to be.” At least that’s what I told myself when I got worried. That J.R. was no threat to me now. Joe had told me that he was being transferred from the Henryetta Hospital to the Fenton County Jail that very day. The doctors had declared him ready to be moved out of the hospital even though he was still recovering from the gunshot wound to his thigh—courtesy of me.

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