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  Gently Kelly tightened his arm around Stella and dropping her head to his chest, she snuggled up to him like a small kitten. He could feel her shoulders shake as she cried silently.

  “Are you ok? That’s the doorbell. You’ll have to get it. It’s probably your niece.

  She smiled shakily and blotted at her eyes. “Thanks Kelly, you are one hell of a friend.” She stood and walked out of the room.

  Easing off the bed, Kelly headed for the shower where he turned the tap on full and let the sharp spray pound against his body. Stella would want him to meet her niece but he wanted the chance to take a shower and collect his thoughts a little before he talked with her.

  * * *

  Kelly had dressed and was pulling on one of his boots when a sharp rap sounded against the door.

  “Come on in,” he called.

  “Are you decent?” Stella peeked around the door. Kelly grinned. “That’s a loaded question.”

  Blushing, she stepped into the room. “Marcy’s here. Will you come out and meet her?”

  “You bet.” Kelly stood up, shoved his foot down in the boot and shook out his pant leg.

  Stella watched him. “Lead on,” he said taking her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  She led him along the hallway into a small sitting room. Marcy was huddled into the corner of a wing back sofa with an afghan snugged around her shoulders.

  Kelly walked over to the sofa and extended his hand. “I hear you’ve been having a pretty rough time of it.”

  Marcy smiled and Kelly could see the resemblance to Stella. She was dark and intense, where Stella was coppery and light but they had the same smile—an elfin grin with a hint of mystery.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, taking his hand and Kelly gave hers a warm squeeze.

  “I’ve just been telling Marcy about her dad’s telephone call,” Stella said, stepping behind the couch and placing a hand on Marcy’s shoulder.

  Marcy raised her eyes to Kelly and in a trembling voice, she said, “I didn’t kill Alex. I could never kill my baby’s father.”

  The mention of her baby burst the dam. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face and she collapsed in a sobbing heap.

  Stella bent over, wrapped her arms around Marcy’s shoulders and rocked her like a child.

  “Hush, darling. Nobody’s accusing you of anything. Now stop crying. It’s not good for the baby.”

  That got Marcy’s attention. She reached out and took the tissue Stella offered and wiped her nose. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m just so scared.”

  “I know you are, sweetheart.” Stella hugged her tightly and looked up at Kelly with a plea in her eyes. “Don’t you worry,” she said. “We’ve got Kelly and if anyone can straighten this out, he can. Now you rest for a little while. I’ll take Kelly into the living room and when you feel better, you can come and join us.”

  Marcy nodded and gave them a wan smile.

  Stella and Kelly moved into a comfortable living room. The long couch and thick, overstuffed chairs were covered in brown leather and faced a fireplace with brass fittings and a raised oak hearth that burned an electric log. Kelly dropped into one of the chairs and raised his eyebrow at Stella.

  “You might be biting off a little more than I can chew,” he said fixing her with a steady gaze.

  She shook her head. “I know Marcy. She couldn’t kill anyone, especially Alex. You saw how she fell apart in there. As far as I’m concerned, it’s ridiculous to even think she could commit murder.”

  Kelly shook his head. “I didn’t mean that. It’s the logistics that worry me. If Alex was killed in Nashville, the police there will be in charge. They aren’t likely to appreciate an amateur—especially an outsider—sticking his nose in their business.”

  “You aren’t an amateur,” Stella snapped. “Didn’t you tell me you’ve got your private investigator’s license? Okay, I’m a customer. I’ll give you a check for ten thousand dollars as a retainer and as of now, you’re acting as my representative.”

  Kelly shook his head again. “It still won’t work. I’m a private investigator, not an attorney. I won’t have any authority to act for Marcy.”

  “Is that all it takes?” Stella grabbed his arm. “I’ve already got the answer. Marcy’s going to need a lawyer in Nashville and I’ve got someone in mind. His name is Mark Fischer. He’s fairly young but he spent a couple of years with the district attorney’s office before going into private practice. From what I hear, he’s damn good.”

  “From what you hear from whom?” Kelly gave her a sharp look.

  Stella grinned. “His mother. Her name is Betty Fischer. We were best friends in high school.”

  “Great! An unbiased recommendation if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Stella had the grace to blush. “Seriously, Kelly, Betty’s told me about some of the cases Mark has taken on and I’m impressed. The family is rolling in money, so he doesn’t have to work but according to Betty, he’s a real crusader. Of course, he’s not an investigator but that’s where you come in.”

  “Aren’t we rushing things a bit? We don’t even know if Marcy’s going to need any help. Maybe she’s got an alibi for last night.”

  Stella shook her head. “I’ve already asked her. After she hung up from talking to me, she tried to sleep but couldn’t, so she loaded some things into her car and headed for Houston. Nobody saw her come home last night. Nobody saw her leave the apartment and she hasn’t seen or spoken to anybody all day today.

  “She didn’t even stop at a motel on the way. She drove until she was exhausted and pulled into a rest area. She slept in her car for a few hours, then drove on in. The only places she stopped were a 7-Eleven in Nashville and a couple of self-serve gas stations along the way. She paid cash and doubts if anyone will remember her.”

  “I guess you can give it a try.” Kelly’s voice was edged with doubt.

  “Good.” Stella got up from the table. “I’ll go call Mark. He can get in touch with the police and tell them Marcy’s down here with me. I don’t know what the procedure is for questioning her. Do you think they’ll expect her to go back to Nashville?”

  “It’s hard to say. They may get someone from Houston to question her. Then again, they could send someone down here to get her.”

  “She might be better off to go back to Nashville and have Mark go in with her and talk to them.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Why don’t you let Mark decide? Once he talks to the cops, he’ll have a better idea of where they stand. Then he’ll be able to advise Marcy what to do.”

  “Okay. I’ll see if I can get him now. Will you check on Marcy and make sure she’s okay?”

  “Sure.” Kelly got up and followed Stella out of the room.

  Marcy had evidently spent some time in the bathroom. She was sitting up on the couch and her hair had been brushed and the blotches were gone from her face.

  “Feeling a little better?”

  She nodded. “You must think I’m a goose.”

  Kelly smiled. “You’ve been having a rough time of it and I don’t imagine it was pleasant getting hit with more bad news the minute you walked in the door.”

  She looked up at him. Her eyes were still moist but she was holding back the tears. “Thank you for understanding. I didn’t kill him, you know.”

  Kelly nodded. “Do you feel up to talking about last night?”

  She grimaced. Kelly knew it was hard for her but she nodded and when she spoke, her voice was clear and firm.

  “Alex came to my apartment about eight-thirty. We had dinner reservations for nine.

  “We left the apartment but on the way there, we had a flat tire. Alex changed it and we got to the restaurant at nine-thirty.”

  She stopped and her eyes searched Kelly’s face. He smiled and nodded for her to continue.

  “After we were seated and the waiter had taken our cocktail orders, Alex left the table for a while. He knew quite a few people there a
nd he went over and talked to different ones.”

  “Did you notice where he stopped?”

  “Well, there was Mr. Marston and his date. He sent us a complimentary bottle of wine and Alex went over to thank him. Then he stopped to talk to Winn Gordon. Winn is a sales rep for Wyatt Recording and he was there with his wife. Alex sat down at their table for a few minutes. He talked to a couple of other people too but I didn’t recognize them.”

  “Okay. Then what happened after Alex came back to the table?”

  “He was kind of put out at me. He accused me of being moody, which I suppose I was. It always irritated me a bit when Alex went off and left me alone at the table and I wasn’t feeling too well last night. I’d been so keyed up with the idea of telling him about the baby that I had a headache.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “Thanks,” she said, giving him another weak smile. “It hurt my feelings when Alex accused me of moping around and before I thought about what I was saying, I told him I was pregnant.”

  She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. Kelly knew this was tearing her apart but if he was going to help, he needed to know exactly what had happened last night.

  Marcy clenched her hands and fought back her tears, then she took a couple of deep breaths and continued. “Alex was horrible. He acted like being pregnant was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He asked me how far along I was and when I told him I was only a couple of months he said, ‘Good. You’ll have plenty of time to get an abortion.’”

  Kelly leaned over and touched her shoulder. “That was pretty hard to take, huh?”

  Marcy nodded. Tears spilled down her face and she clenched her fists and swiped at her eyes.

  Kelly stood up and smiled down at her. “My mom has always sworn by warm milk to calm the nerves. You just sit there and relax for a few minutes while I go heat some up.”

  He left her on the couch and went to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator in search of milk, he saw the makings for fajitas neatly stacked on the shelf and his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the truck stop.

  “There you are.” Stella came through the door. “I thought you were in the sitting room with Marcy.”

  Kelly held up the milk carton. “She was a bit upset, so I’m fixing her some warm milk.”

  Stella took the milk out of his hand and flashed him a smile. “You’re a sweetheart. I’ll heat it before I do up the fajitas. I bet you’re starved.”

  “I’m a mite empty.” Kelly leaned against the counter while Stella filled the cup and placed it in the microwave. “I noticed those trimmings in there. If you’d been half a second longer, you’d have had to slap my hands.”

  Stella laughed and handed him the steaming mug. “Here, you take this to Marcy. Then give me fifteen minutes and we’ll have dinner.”

  “Deal,” Kelly said and headed back to the sitting room.

  “Here you go.” He handed the mug to Marcy and sank back down in his chair. “Thank you.” She smiled.

  Kelly sat back and watched her sip the hot liquid. She looked so vulnerable huddled up on the sofa. It was easy to understand why she brought out Stella’s maternal instincts. Kelly just hoped they wouldn’t get any unpleasant surprises when they dug a little further into her relationship with Alex Wyatt.

  “I can’t really tell you much more about last night,” Marcy said, reaching for a coaster and setting her mug on the table. “I was so angry with Alex after he told me to get an abortion, I’m afraid I lost it. I remember screaming at him, then I ran out to the lobby and asked the maître d’ to call me a taxi.

  “I waited outside for a few minutes but people kept coming out and I couldn’t stand the way they were staring at me. Winn Gordon even tried to put his arm around me and that was the final straw. I took off down the road and kept going until I got to the bus stop. I was lucky, I guess, because a bus came along right away and it took me all the way home.”

  Kelly raised an eyebrow. “So you didn’t wait for the taxi?”

  She shook her head. “I just couldn’t stand there with everybody coming out and staring at me like I was a hysterical fool.”

  “Did you hear from Alex after you got home?”

  “The phone rang a couple of times but I didn’t answer it. I called Stella and she invited me to come down here. After that, I tried to get some sleep but I couldn’t, so I threw some things in the car and left.”

  “What time was this?”

  “It was about two.”

  Stella poked her head around the door. “Shall we eat in the kitchen or would you prefer the dining room?”

  “The kitchen’s great with me,” Kelly said and Marcy nodded agreement. “I’d like to freshen up first,” she said and Stella gave her a warm smile.

  “Of course. I’ll take you to your room. Kelly, would you mind fixing us a couple of drinks?”

  “Sure! What’ll you have?”

  “I’ll take a gin and tonic.”

  “Nothing for me, thanks,” Marcy said.

  When Stella returned, he handed her a tall glass, grabbed a beer for himself and joined her on the couch.

  “Did you get hold of Mark?”

  Stella nodded. “We’ve got it all settled. Mark’s going to call the police station and give them a statement on Marcy’s behalf. He’s sure they’ll want her back in Nashville and he definitely wants to be there when they question her. He hadn’t heard about the killing, so he’s going to dig up the details and get back to me later.

  “I told him I wanted you for an investigator and he didn’t see any problem but he suggested we wait until we found out if Marcy was actually involved before we took any steps.”

  Kelly nodded. “Sounds good to me. There’s always the possibility they’ll nail the killer.”

  Stella gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “I sure hope so but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I’m so glad you’re here, Kelly.”

  By unspoken agreement, they changed the subject at dinner and as soon as they finished, Marcy excused herself and went to bed. Stella and Kelly decided to pay a call on the Longhorn Saloon, their favorite country western dancing spot. They danced ’til midnight and when they got home, Kelly said an emphatic good night and headed for his room. Stella’s laughter followed him down the hall.

  * * *

  The rest of the weekend was spent relaxing and enjoying the late fall sunshine. The only hint of murder came with Mark’s call on Sunday morning. He’d talked to the police and given them Marcy’s whereabouts. They hadn’t seemed too concerned and had promised to let him know Monday if they wanted Marcy back in Nashville.

  Sunday afternoon, the three of them drove out to Galveston and fooled around on the beach for several hours. Kelly braved the cold waters for a quick dip but he didn’t stay in too long. The sun was warm and friendly and they sprawled out on giant bath towels and toasted themselves until discretion suggested they get out of the rays. They gorged themselves on shrimp and fries at an open-air cafe and even Marcy had a smile on her face when they finally headed home.

  Kelly was up and dressed by eight on Monday morning. He knocked on Stella’s door and got a mumbled, “Come in.”

  “I’m ready to hit the road.” He stooped over and smoothed the hair out of her eyes. “It’s been a great weekend.”

  Stella propped herself up on the pillow. “It was almost perfect,” she mumbled, her voice husky.

  Kelly chuckled. “You’re a handful, girl.”

  “I’ve got your promise you’ll be here for us if Marcy and I get into trouble, don’t I?” she asked.

  “Of course.” He took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “It doesn’t sound like there’s much to worry about though. Apparently the cops aren’t too concerned, or they’d have insisted on seeing Marcy immediately. Chances are all she’ll have to do is give them a quick statement and that’ll be the end of it.”

  “I hope so but I’ll hold you to your promise if things start to ge
t nasty.”

  “You do that.” He bent to kiss her mouth. She locked her arms around his neck and flicked her tongue against his lips.

  Kelly jerked his head back and laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I could think of a few things,” she said and Kelly shook his head and started for the door.

  “You take care now,” he said. “And thanks for the hospitality.”

  Kelly climbed into Old Blue and headed for Sugar Land. The American Mutual Insurance Exchange—nicknamed AMIE by stockholders and customers alike—was downtown and with Houston traffic in full rush, it took Kelly well over an hour to navigate the loops.

  Brad had told him to look for the tallest steel-and-glass building in Sugar Land and Kelly had no trouble picking it out. AMIE occupied an entire block and Kelly drove straight into an underground garage and entered the building through the back door.

  Brad Meyer’s office was on the third floor and seeing a stairway, Kelly bypassed the elevator and climbed the three flights. Choosing the stairs had become a habit when he was training for the police force and he still never took an elevator for anything less than five stories.

  “Hi! I’m Kelly McWinter here to see Brad Meyer,” he said to the blue-eyed blonde at the third-floor reception desk.

  “He’s expecting you, Mr. McWinter. Third door on your right. Just go right in.”

  “Thanks.” Kelly nodded and turned to stride down the hall. At Brad’s office, he knocked briefly on the door.

  “Come on in,” a robust voice called from inside.

  A short, bald, middle-aged man with a round face and sharp brown eyes stood up when Kelly entered the room and stuck out his hand.