The Texas Soldier's Son. Karen Whiddon

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truly believe Nicole could do such a thing. Kyle wasn’t sure how to react. He waited for Bret to laugh and say he’d been joking, but the expression on his old friend’s face was serious as dirt.

      “Really?” Kyle finally asked. “Are you saying the guy had no other enemies?”

      “That we know of. He was a deacon at his church, a well-respected community guy, and from what I hear, an easy boss to work for at the trucking company.”

      Kyle nodded. “Were he and Nicole happy?” Inwardly, he winced. He hadn’t meant to ask that—the words had just slipped out.

      “They appeared to be.” Bret shrugged. “But you know how that can be. Lots of folks just put on a happy face. No one really knows what goes on in private.”

      Another stab straight to the gut. Yet Kyle managed an impersonal smile. “How’s Heather?”

      Bret’s smile slipped a notch. “We’ve got just about one more month. She’s as big as a house, but hanging in there. She just finished decorating the nursery and says she’s ready. Heck, we both are.”

      Then, apparently registering the stunned look on Kyle’s face, he shook his head and grinned. “Sorry. I forgot you didn’t know. Heather’s pregnant. It’s our first. She’s had a few issues, but nothing too serious. We’re hoping the last month will go quickly.”

      “Aww, man. Congratulations!” Kyle pounded his friend on the back. “Are you having a boy or a girl?”

      “Thanks.” Bret shook his head. “Neither one of us wanted to know the sex of our baby, so I have no idea. All I want is healthy and strong. Heather’s wavered a bit, especially when she started decorating, but she stuck with the plan.”

      “Wow,” Kyle marveled. “This is just amazing. You and Heather will make great parents.” A shadow crossed his heart as he thought of Nicole, who’d become a single parent now.

      Something must have shown on his face.

      “You’ll get there too, Kyle,” Bret said. “Look at all you’ve been through. Yet here you are, back home and ready to start over.”

      They talked a few minutes more, exchanged phone numbers and then Bret went on his way. While Kyle continued his shopping, he thought of his old friend’s words. Starting over. In a way, he’d come here to pick up where he and Nicole had left off, yet when he thought of the bright and shining future he’d envisioned for them, he wanted to punch something.

      On the way to the checkout line, he ran into Bret again. Bret’s cart was nearly as full as his own. They shared a quick chuckle over that.

      “Hey, if you get a chance, stop by for dinner sometime,” Bret invited. “Maybe we can invite Nicole too, so you two can catch up. She’s probably feeling pretty down, being a new widow and all. Though she has that baby of hers to keep her busy. I know Heather’s been dying for some baby time.”

      Kyle shook his head. “I stopped by and saw her earlier today.”

      “Oh, you did?” Bret eyed him. “Did you get a chance to see Jacob? At first, his eyes were hazel like Nicole’s, but the last time we saw him, they were changing to green. The exact same color as yours.” He laughed. “Heather and I always said he could have been your son.”

      With a wave, Bret walked off, getting into one of the three open checkout lines.

      Kyle did the same, deliberately choosing the one farthest from his friend. Nicole had said she’d gotten pregnant before he’d headed back to duty overseas. In his bitterness and hurt at her betrayal, he hadn’t believed her. A wave of shame swept through him, followed immediately by anger.

      Was it possible he really did have a son? A simple DNA test would prove it.

      * * *

      Sheriff Cantrell took a look at the Visa bill and yawned. “How do you know these charges were for a mistress?” he asked.

      Nicole stared at him in disbelief. “Um, maybe because I never saw any of the things listed.”

      He looked again, leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps he bought them for his mother. You know he and Theresa had a close relationship.”

      “Victoria’s Secret lingerie?” She tapped the edge of his desk. “Do you really think they had that close of a relationship? That’s not only creepy, it’s sick.”

      “Please, Ms. Mabry.” His tone went sharp. “This is your deceased husband we’re talking about. Please show some respect.”

      She had to swallow twice to keep from telling him what she thought about his attitude. “Sheriff,” she began, keeping her voice level and reasonable. “My husband was murdered. His credit card bill indicates he bought expensive gifts for another woman. He took her to dinner. I haven’t checked his other months’ bills, but I have a feeling there will be more of the same. My husband had a mistress. There was another woman involved in his life. Since you’re investigating his murder, I’d think you’d want to check this out.”

      Glumly, he once again considered the bill. “This opens up a whole can of worms.”

      Oh for the love of... Deep breaths. “Do you or do you not want to find out who killed my husband?” she asked, refusing this time to curb her impatience.

      “Of course I do,” he answered. “That’s my job. But I can’t help but feel you’re instigating this in order to deflect attention from you. Especially since you’re a person of interest.”

      Shaking her head, she stood. “Sheriff, you’ve known me your entire life, not just since you were a deputy patrolman. I understand the pressure you’re under from the Mabrys wanting a quick resolution to this investigation. But you’re also our sheriff. You took an oath to uphold the law. I can’t help but feel you’re trying to railroad me so you can obtain an arrest. But I can assure you, I did not kill my husband. And I’d really like to know who did. So please, make a copy of the bill and look into it. Can you at least promise me you’ll do that?”

      His mottled complexion revealed how little he cared for her disparaging comments. But she was right and he knew it. Moving with exaggerated slowness, he photocopied the statement and handed the original back to her. She tucked it into her diaper bag and reached down to pick up little Jacob in his infant carrier.

      “Wait,” Sheriff Cantrell said, motioning her to sit back down. “I understand Kyle Benning is back in town.”

      Holding his gaze, she waited to hear what this had to do with her.

      “I was told he paid you a visit yesterday,” he continued. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

      “Kyle and I are old friends,” she replied. “Like everyone else in town, I was told he died in Afghanistan. He wanted to let me know that wasn’t actually the case.”

      How stiff she sounded. Still, her meeting with Kyle was none of his business.

      “I know you two were more than just friends.” The faint mockery in his voice infuriated her, though she pushed it back down inside. “And now that poor Bill is out of the way, maybe now the two of you can pick up where you left off.”

      This

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