21. Hattie

"You mind if I sit here?" I ask, falling into the seat across from Mrs. Draper right here in the Whisk and Whip Gourmet Coffee and Pastries Shop.

The petite redhead looks my way and the whites of her eyes are lost in crimson railroad tracks. Her friends just left, and yet she remains glued to her seat, looking dazed and confused.

"Oh my goodness," I say, leaning in. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were having a private moment."

Her hair is slightly mussed, and she's wearing a stark white shift that only brings out the grief in her poor eyes.

"No, it's quite all right." She lifts a hand. "It's crowded. And I'm done. I shouldn't be hogging a table all to myself. Feel free to stay. My friends and I are through. I'm just a little slow to leave at the moment."

"Please, take your time," I say.

I'd give anything to dig deeper into this woman and her shady husband, but I don't have the nerve to do it.

Something Missy said this afternoon comes back to me.

"You know"— I whisper as I lean in— "I took this class once and the instructor said that the most therapeutic thing you can do is spill your problems to a complete stranger. I certainly don't know you, and we'll probably never see one another again. If it makes you feel better, I'm all ears. No judgment, I promise."

But I sure as heck don't mind judging her two-timing husband.

Her crimson lips twitch as she considers this. "No judgment?"

I shake my head just enough. I'm afraid if I make any jarring movements it might break the spell.

"Oh, what the heck." She tosses her hands in the air. "My husband of five years has been cheating on me. And not only is he quickly becoming a problem, but so is the little gift he's given me." She wrinkles her nose. "Don't worry. You can't catch it. I was just put on antibiotics strong enough to turn Brambleberry Marsh into purified drinking water."

"Oh, that's terrible. I mean, it's a good thing you're on the mend." At least she's not dying. However, if he keeps up with his naughty double-dipping routine, she might eventually succumb to something that no antibiotic in the world could cure her of.

I could kill Erol for doing this to me, she growls to herself. Not only is he breaking my heart, he's taking down the rest of my body along with it.

"I'm afraid it's not the first time he's done this to me," she seethes as she gazes out the window. "And I know what you're thinking. I'm a fool for sticking around." She folds her arms tight across her chest, her gaze still angry and distant. "After my husband of forty years died, I didn't think I'd marry again. Then I met Erol. He didn't have a family, never married. He was so charming back then." She huffs at the thought. "My kids are grown and I thought why not? We were married within six months. Then he started coming home late, regularly. I didn't think too much of it. He has a thriving dental practice, so I could understand that. He left on long conferences, and when the conferences grew closer and closer together, that's when I grew suspicious. How many conferences does a dentist have to attend, anyway? And he never once invited me." Her entire body is vibrating with anger at this point. "It turns out, he wasn't at any conference. He had women on the side—more than one—and he was treating them to expensive hotels, buying them fancy clothes, and jewelry, not to mention the exotic meals. I didn't have half the perks they did. I should have passed on the wedding and opted to take him up on a tryst instead."

"I'm so sorry. Have you confronted him about it?"

"Oh, yes." She gives an incredulous laugh. "Twice I walked out the door, but he lured me back in by promising he would never do that to me again. But these last six months his libido has been on the uptick again and I don't mean with me. There were plenty of clues. I found a secret charge card in his office, a stray lipstick that wasn't mine rolling around on the passenger side of his car, and, of course, this little treat that took both me and my general practitioner by surprise." She tosses her hands up again as she glances down at her body. "I confronted him again, but he denied it. I'm through with all that. I know the truth. I started following him. He's been with several hussies. One is a pretty young thing who just started teaching these hippie dippy classes down at the country club."

I blink back.

Oh my word. I think she's talking about Missy!

"Then there was his accountant." Her fingers float to her lips. "Actually, I'm not sure if that was a genuine affair. But something fishy was definitely going on."

I nod because I saw Dr. Draper and Jane arguing with my own two eyes.

Something she mentioned earlier catches up with me.

"So he was never married and had no children?"

She shakes her head. "No to both, or at least he's never fessed up to them. He said he was from Missouri, but how do I believe anything he's said when he's taking up lying to me as if it were a sport? Plus, before my father died, he thought it was strange the way Erol claims to have been born and raised in the Show MeState and yet he got away without having a stitch of an accent."

"That is odd." More than odd! "I bet he had pictures from his past? Stories?"

She shakes her head. "It's like he just materialized one day and fell right in my lap." She glances out the window once again. "I'll admit, it made me wonder what or who he was running from. A part of me worried that he walked out on some poor woman—perhaps left her saddled with children. Oh, it's silly." She waves the idea away. "Of course, he didn't do that. Deep down he's a good man. Or at least I used to believe it." And now he's turned me into a killer.

My mouth falls open as I try to make heads or tails out of that last thought.

"I have to go." She jumps out of her seat. "Thank you for your time." She presses her lips together, but they tremble, nonetheless. "You don't know how cathartic this was for me. What was your name?"

"Hattie," I say.

She gives a complacent nod. "I guess we're not strangers after all." She bolts from the shop, and before her seat can grow cold, Killion fills it.

"That was some hello," he says, landing a cup of coffee in front of me along with a couple of chocolate glazed donuts.

"She looked like she needed a shoulder to cry on." I hook my gaze to his and lean in. "That was Dr. Draper's wife." I quickly relay everything she just said and Killion's eyes turn into a couple of donuts themselves.

"I don't know how you do it, but you manage to get more information from people than one of my guys with a spotlight and a baton in their hand."

"What can I say? People love to tell me things. Speaking of telling me things, what did the official coroner's report say about Jane Jordon?"

Killion's brows swoop down low and he casts a dark glance in the direction where our mothers are busy chatting away.

If my mother didn't just implicate herself, it would make this conversation a whole lot easier.

I gasp at the thought and his eyes dart to mine.

I swear it's as if she can hear me.He frowns. "How about we find somewhere a little more private to chat and I'll tell you everything."

"I know just the place," I tell him. "Mine."