Free Now You See It by Cáit Donnelly Page A

half. But, dammit, why didn’t she want him to marry you?” He sounded insulted, and Gemma could have kissed him.
    “It was kind of confusing.” Gemma retrieved her iced green tea latte from the console cup holder. The interview hadn’t lasted long enough for the ice to melt. “Julia—and Ned too, for that matter—have this idea they’re some kind of aristocracy. She flat-out accused me of wanting to marry him to improve my bloodline. Like dogs, or horses, or something.”
    “The family rich?”
    Gemma took another sip of tea. “Uh uh. I think they may have been, a couple of generations back. Ned had a small trust fund from her parents—so does she. She called it her ‘widow’s portion,’ like something out of a bad novel. There wasn’t much. Enough for Ned to finish law school and escape.”
    “Property?”
    “No. I don’t think so. She lives in this hideous, moldering rattletrap of a house. I can’t imagine it’s worth all that much. It’s on a corner lot in Sweetwater, Texas. It’s not a historical building, or anything, just a big, ugly pile of red brick with phony Doric columns, three or four stories, oil portraits of stuffy-looking people in ’20s’ and ’30s’ suits and ball gowns. And just her and a maid who’s even older than she is.
    “I got the whole lecture when we went back to Sweetwater that first Christmas after we were married,” she said. “Ned spent a couple of weeks ‘preparing’ me so I’d fit in. He might as well have saved his breath. I was halfway surprised she didn’t put us in separate bedrooms.”
    Mike snorted into his soft drink.
    “My house is probably worth five times as much. I see where you’re going with this, Mike, but even Julia never accused me of wanting money. She just hates me. Maybe it’s a little more intense now. A couple of years ago she sent me a letter saying I had put Ned in the ‘Death Line,’ whatever that means, and demanding I leave him immediately.”
    “Too bad you didn’t.”
    “Yeah. She also said it was my fault her son was ‘dead to her,’ unquote. But I didn’t start the trouble between them.”
    “What did, do you know?”
    “He wouldn’t talk about it. When I’d ask, he’d just say she was crazy and change the subject.”
    “I’ll bet she gave Olsen an earful.”
    “Probably.” She rolled her eyes.
    Mike looked back at her like a man who knows he’s doomed to fail. “I don’t think you should go back home today. The story was on TV last night—all the local channels and Northwest Cable News.”
    “I need to get back to my office. I have to notify my clients, and I need to bite the proverbial bullet and talk to Julia again. She keeps leaving me messages on my voice mail, asking about a funeral.”
    “Work from my house. Can’t your clients send you copies of whatever you need? You have all of their contact information in your phone, right? I know you use Drop Box.”
    “Thanks, Mike, but I need to be home. I need to be there for the locksmith, and the alarm company is going to reset the codes. I forgot all that yesterday. Besides, I can think better there. I’ll just see where the day takes me. I’ll be back for dinner.”
    “If I can’t talk you out of it, take the dog with you. She’ll be good company. And, um...I’ve asked Brady to stay close the next couple of days.”
    Gemma opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
    “Until they get some leads on Ned’s death, nobody gets near you. Got it? Don’t pout.”
    “I’m not pouting.”
    “Don’t sulk.”
    “You’re the one who sulks. I pout, but I’m not pouting. I understand what you’re saying. I just hate it. You’re thinking about whoever messed with my computer.”
    “Yeah. That did cross my mind. Tell you what, your choice—Brady, or I hire someone else. Those are the options right now.”
    “I hate that I don’t feel safe there, any more. It’s my home. It’s not the house of my heart, or anything like that, but it’s