Spin a Wicked Web (7 page)

Now I was unsure. "Isn't it?" I took a shaky sip of beer.

"No, no. Nothing like that. Remember when I told you that ten
years or so ago I was involved with a woman who works at my
parents' dude ranch? That it was a mistake, and didn't work out?"

"Sure"

"That was Hannah."

I gaped at him. "Involved? Getting married is `involved'? What
are we then, acquaintances?"

He sighed. "It only lasted a couple months. It was a long time
ago. I wasn't trying to keep anything from you; I really did think
you understood that we'd been married for a short time."

Damn it. That took the wind right out of my sails. Barr had
indeed told me about that woman. It was just possible I'd misunderstood the level of their "involvement"

He'd neglected to mention what she looked like, though.

"Well, you certainly do like a type, don't you." I felt bitter and
defeated at the same time.

"Type?"

"She looks just like me. Or rather, I look like her, since I'm the
Janey-come-lately. At least I used to look like her." My hand started
to go to my short hair, but at the last moment I scratched my nose.

"God," Barr said. "Sometimes I just want to shake you."

And I just want to shoot you, I thought, but didn't say. A bolt
of understanding hit me, a very personal glimmer of how crimes
of passion can occur.

"So why is she here?" I asked.

He looked uncomfortable. "I can't be sure, but I imagine she
wants to get back together."

Great. As mad as I'd been, as much as I'd already considered
that we might be done and over with, that still hit me hard in the
solar plexus. "Do you want to get back together with her?"

"Of course not, you dope. I love you."

I took a big swig of beer and considered him. "She still loves
you?"

"Maybe. I doubt it. What Hannah loves is money. Always has."

Another swig. My stomach gurgled. "I don't get it," I said. "You
don't have money."

Now he looked uncomfortable. "That's what I was trying to
tell you."

What the heck? I put the beer bottle back on the table, and it
started to tip over again. I caught it and directed another glare at
Barr.

But he was looking out the window. "My uncle died earlier this
year. It turns out he left some money to my mom and dad, my
brother and sister, and me." He looked directly at me now. "A lot
of money. That's what I've been trying to figure out how to tell
you.

My mouth dropped open.

"You have a sister?" I practically shrieked the question.

He looked startled. "Sure. Glory. She and her husband live outside of Missoula."

"You never told me you had a sister!"

"I didn't?"

"No. You didn't. Any offspring around that you also forgot to
mention?" I wasn't kidding. All of a sudden, it seemed like a valid
question.

He laughed. "No"

I very pointedly did not laugh. "You can't expect me to be
happy to suddenly meet some woman who says she's your wife.
You can't expect me to move in with you when that same ex-wife
is staying in town."

His eyes widened. "Listen, Sophie Mae..."

I shook my head so hard my hair whipped across my cheek. "I
don't know who you are, Barr Ambrose. I thought I did, but it
turns out that I don't."

He tried again. "Listen to me." His voice was reasonable, down
to earth, all the things I loved about the guy.

Aargh.

"Hannah must know about the inheritance from my uncle. It
would be just like her to think she could get to it through me.
Mom will know. I'll call her after dinner."

"Your mother? Why would she know?"

"I told you: Hannah works at the ranch." Barr's parents owned
and operated a touristy dude ranch in Wyoming.

"She still works there?"

He nodded. "I'll call her tonight, too. Send her packing. Hannah showing up all of a sudden does not mean anything. You can't
let this mess up our plans"

"It's not just about your ex, you know? What about the sister I
knew nothing about? What else haven't you told me?"

He shifted in his recliner, leaning toward me. "What do you
want to know? I'll tell you anything you'd like."

I shook my head. "We've been dating for eight months, Barr.
This is the kind of stuff that just comes up. If I have to know the
questions to ask to get basic kinds of information like siblings and
past marriages, I don't want to ask them."

"Oh, come on, Sophie Mae. Don't be like that. I'm willing to
tell you everything."

My face grew hot, then my eyes. Don't be like that. If the phrase,
we have to talk" was dreaded by most males, "don't be like that,"
trumped it for women. Those were words a man says to a woman who is not behaving in a way they find easy or comfortable. Oh
come on. Don't be like that. It was a horribly typical way of trying
to control the situation by making me feel bad for being angry.

"Go to hell."

He blinked. The expression on his face changed to contrition.
"I'm sorry. You're right, and I'm sorry. I should have thought
about the things in my past that might interest you. It's just that
I'm not, anymore. Interested, I mean. Glory and I aren't close, I've
moved on from the whole Hannah thing, and I'm not one to look
backward. But if you want to know, I'll tell you every detail, starting with, `I was born on a stormy winter's night' and going from
there."

At least he'd apologized, and it sounded genuine. I sighed. "I'll
hold you to that."

Was I being stupid, giving in like that? I'd have to wait and see.
As for Barr, he was on probation, as of now.

"I'm going home," I said. "To eat dinner with Meghan and
Erin."

He didn't look very happy. "Are you sure?"

"Positive"

"Okay. I'll call you later." He knew when to back off.

I stood up and walked to the door.

He followed. "Are you still willing to help me?"

"Help you what?"

"Find out a little more about Ariel Skylark? Just get some people to gossip about her? No one seems to want to talk to us."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Just gossip. Nothing else. You know, no obvious questions,"
he said. "You can be subtle when you want to."

"I don't get it," I said. "You hate it when I snoop. What's with
the sudden change of attitude?"

He looked nonplussed. "Well, you're pretty good at finding
things out."

I waited.

Turning both palms to the ceiling, he said, "All right. Here's the
thing. Your yarn was the murder weapon, so I can't be the lead on
this case even though I have seniority over Robin in the department. So she's the lead, and she loves it. She's good at investigating,
but darn it, she questions people like she's killing snakes. Especially
when she's excited about getting the answers. Not a lot of finesse,
you know?"

I nodded. "Oh, yes. I know exactly what you mean."

Detective Lane and I had had our difficulties a few months
back as I tried to convince her to investigate a poisoning. I admired her abilities, and liked her well enough; eventually we'd
called a tentative truce. However, the more time she spent in Cadyville, the more pig-headed she seemed to become.

"So will you put some of that Reynolds charm to work for the
common good?"

Oh, brother. Talk about charm. Sheesh.

"Maybe," I said.

He inclined his head. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

He kissed me then. Despite the post-fight awkwardness, I still
felt the same thrill as always. Damn.

I opened the screen and began walking out to my Toyota. A few
steps down the sidewalk, I turned around. He stood in the doorway.

"A lot of money?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

"Just how much is a lot?"

He licked his lips. "Two million," he said. "Give or take."

The blood drained from my face. "Yeah. That's a lot," I croaked.

"Each" He flushed when he said it, as if embarrassed. Knowing Barr, he probably was.

"Right. Uh, well, congratulations. Bye." Dumbfounded, I walked
to my vehicle, got in, and started the engine. I drove home like a
zombie.

Holy crap. No wonder Hannah was on the prowl.

I FOLLOWED THE SOUND of voices around to the backyard and found
Meghan, Erin, and Ruth Black seated at the picnic table. The scent of
lime-and-garlic-marinated shrimp lingered on the still-warm air.

Meghan greeted me. "Hey there. How did it go?"

"It was ... odd," I said. "Hi, Ruth."

"Hello dear."

"Go get some dinner," Meghan said.

"It smells delicious. I'm surprised there's any left."

"There wouldn't be if I hadn't hidden yours away in the kitchen."

I held up a finger. "Be right back."

In the kitchen I discovered not only crustaceans grilled to pink
perfection, but a pile of grilled asparagus and the remains of a gorgeous summer salad. Harvest continues late into the fall in the
northwest, but can start slowly due to damp, cool springs. But lettuce, radishes, baby carrots, scallions, and various herbs were
abundant in June. Meghan had added sprigs of chickweed gleaned
from weeding our organic beds, a few succulent dandelion leaves, and a sprinkling of violas. I could have feasted on how pretty it
was. Theoretically, at least. I added a light lemon and olive oil vinaigrette to the salad, piled shrimp and asparagus onto a stoneware
plate, and returned to the group sitting in the backyard.

I slid onto the cedar picnic bench. Brodie waddled over and sat
by my foot, making corgi noises in his throat. Now that I had food,
I was back on his A-list.

Across the table, Meghan leaned forward, anticipation all over
her face. "So? Who was she?"

I glanced at Erin, an even more petite version of her mother,
and asked, "How was math camp today?"

"Fun enough," she said. "We played with Mobius strips. Mom
already told us some strange woman was at Barr's house today,
and you went over there to yell at him about it. So don't try to
send me inside or anything."

Meghan suddenly became inordinately interested in one of our
hens pecking at the tray of oyster shell in their pen. What a gossip, I
thought, surprised. Maybe Barr should have asked for her help instead of mine.

"It certainly does sound like you've had a full day," Ruth said.

"That's putting it mildly." I took a bite of salad. Something peppery in there. I peered at my plate. Ah. Nasturtium leaves. I swallowed. "I either won't sleep at all tonight, or I'll sleep like the dead."

Meghan coughed.

"Oh, God. Not like the dead, I mean, you know..." I rubbed my
forehead.

"Whatever," Erin said. "So who was the lady at Barr's house?"

"We don't want to pry," Ruth said. "But we want to know you're
okay."

So Meghan had told her, too. I couldn't blame her.

"I'm fine," I said. "It turns out he did tell me about Hannahthat's her name, Ruth. But I didn't realize they were married."

"He's not actually married now, is he?" Meghan asked.

"No, it all happened several years ago, and apparently only lasted a
couple months."

"Then what's she doing here now?"

Between bites, I told them most of my conversation with Barr
up until I walked outside his house. Then I found myself growing
silent.

"So Barr's rich?" Erin asked.

"I guess," I said, reluctant to talk about it further. Now I understood why he'd had such a hard time telling me about his sudden wealth. The idea of having that much money bordered on
the obscene.

Both Meghan and Ruth seemed to sense my unwillingness.
"Are you happy with his explanation?" Meghan asked.

I hesitated, then said, "I think so."

"You know what you should do, to put it to bed once and for
all?" Ruth asked.

"What?"

"You should do a background check on him. Then you won't
wonder. I bet Meghan's beau would give you a discount."

My lips parted in surprise. Who knew Ruth was so mercenary?

"Meghan?" she prompted.

"Well," Meghan said. "I guess I could ask Kelly about it."

Kelly O'Connell was Meghan's sort of boyfriend. The sort of
part was mostly because he lived in New Jersey. They chatted on
the phone for hours every night like school kids, and there'd been talk of him moving out to Cadyville once he got his private investigator's license in the state of Washington.

Hmmm. I considered the idea. It really would make me feel
better to know for sure, to stop wondering if Barr was keeping
anything from me. Call it trust issues if you want to, but I'd never
before thought of myself as one of those walking wounded who
couldn't get close to anyone. I just didn't want to be stupid.

"Will you talk to him about it tonight?" I asked Meghan.

"Urn." Her reluctance was palpable.