Free Husband and Wives by Susan Rogers Cooper

all brothers or cousins, or related in some way, so we had plenty of kids to comb the whole cul-de-sac for the suspected murder weapon.
    Jean called me around ten and gave me the addresses of five other plural families in Prophesy County. I was flabbergasted.
    ‘There are at least ten families in the church, according to Rene,’ Jean said. Then added, ‘But of course, you’ll have to take that with a grain of salt.’
    ‘Why are you so hard on poor little Rene?’ I asked.
    ‘Maybe because you call her “poor little Rene,”’ she answered. Then laughed. ‘No, dear, I’m not jealous.’ There was a silence, then she said, ‘There’s just something about her. She’s so different from the other two—’
    ‘You never met Mary,’ I reminded her.
    ‘Not in person, but have you been around her children? Have you heard the way they talk about her? The kids, Jerry, Carol Anne, hell, even Rene? She was a saint. Carol Anne is––’
    ‘Your secret crush,’ I said.
    ‘Stop it. She’s a stand-up woman. She’s trustworthy. Rene . . . isn’t.’
    ‘You know, honey, I’ve never seen you go this much on instinct with patients—’
    ‘These people aren’t patients.’
    ‘Well, yeah they are. You had Rene in your office.’
    ‘Interviewing her for the case. Not as a patient,’ my wife said.
    ‘Still. You seem to be going more by the seat of your pants than usual. That’s my territory, honey.’
    Jean sighed. ‘I don’t know, babe,’ she said. ‘These people are getting under my skin. Part of it is I have strong opinions on this lifestyle, and these people . . .’
    Her voice drifted off. I said into the silence, ‘These people are changing your opinions?’
    Again, she sighed. ‘I don’t know. But they are certainly putting a strain on my certainty.’
    With that she said goodbye and hung up, and I looked at the list set before me. The church house, according to what I’d found out, was in Tejas County, which was the next county over, where my amigo Bill Williams was sheriff. Checking out the six names given to me, all except Andrew Schmidt were in Prophesy County. Schmidt was in Tejas County. I wasn’t sure how this church worked, if it was like a lot of Protestant sects, where there was a preacher and a board of elders or whatever that oversaw paying him and the bills of the church, or what. But if I had to guess, I’d guess that the other person who lived in Tejas County, where the church house was, would be the person in charge.
    I called Bill Williams, found him at his desk like he should be, and told him what had been going on over here with our plural family.
    ‘Ah, hell, I’ve been keeping quiet about old Earl Mayhew and his wives and kids,’ Bill said. ‘He’s a nice enough old bird and his wives seem happy enough. Kids keep out of trouble. But yeah, he’s the preacher or whatever it is at that church. It’s way back in the piney woods and I try not to disturb ’em or let anybody else do so. I think to each his own, ya know?’
    ‘Yeah, I know,’ I said. ‘I haven’t arrested the husband over here either. Figure he’s got enough trouble. How many wives the preacher got?’ I asked.
    ‘Only two that I know of. Ha!’ Bill said, letting out a laugh. ‘Who’da thought I’d ever say that about wives, huh?’
    I laughed back. ‘Know what you mean. This kinda thing gets your thoughts all twisted up.’
    ‘Yeah, I know. When I first met Earl, I came home, looked at my wife, and thought, ‘‘now what would she think about us bringing in a cute little twenty-two-year-old?’’’
    ‘Whoo, don’t I know it. Had the same kinda thought myself. But seriously, Bill, I need to talk to this Earl fella. Find out what I can about Hudson and his three wives.’
    ‘Woodoggies,’ Bill said, ‘three of ’em. Don’t that beat all?’
    ‘I’m tellin’ ya,’ I said.
    ‘Well, you come on over here and I’ll take you out yonder where the church is. He’s got a trailer set up