The Barefoot Summer(17)

“He came near the end of each month?”

“Oh, yes. How’d you know that?”

“Just a lucky guess.” She dropped four tea bags into the boiling water, covered the pot, and set it aside. While they steeped, she ran water into a plastic pitcher until it was half-full, added a cup and a half of sugar, and stirred it until it dissolved.

“Just the way I make tea. Your mama taught you well,” Hattie said. “Would you look at the time? Thirty minutes until Sunday night church services. Y’all are all invited anytime you want to attend. It’s the little white church on the north side of town. The one on the south side has been closed down for a couple of years now. We usually have a potluck after Sunday morning services, so bring along a covered dish if you want to join us for that.”

“Thank you for your help, Hattie.” Kate smiled.

“Anytime. Me and Victor will be popping in to check on you girls.” She grinned. “Like I said, I’m nosy, and besides, I’m old. That means I get to ask rude questions and say what I want.”

“Then I can’t wait to get old,” Kate said.

“’Bye, now.” Hattie waved as she crossed the room to the door and disappeared.

Kate removed the tea bags, squeezed all the water from them, and then poured the tea into the pitcher. When it was stirred well, she took a glass down from the cabinet, filled it with ice and tea, and carried it to her bedroom. She gulped down a third of the tea, set it on her dresser, and reached for her laptop. She opened a new folder and typed:

Information about Conrad:



Conrad came home at least one day toward the end of every third week. He would meet with his accountant to discuss his business and sign any tax papers or forms that she needed him to take care of. He’d draw out his monthly paycheck at that time, and he’d be at the house when I got home from the office. The conversation was always the same. He wanted me to divorce him. I refused. He’d have his evening meal in the dining room and I’d take mine to my bedroom. My house was simply a free hotel for the night.



She closed her laptop and drank the rest of the tea. When she went back for a refill, there was not one drop left in the pitcher. Her sandwich was gone and now her tea—it was the old proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. She marched out to the porch to find Jamie and Gracie sipping away at a glass each and Amanda on the other end of the porch chomping on the ice pellets left in hers.

“What’s your problem?” Amanda asked.

“That was my tea and it was my sandwich in the refrigerator,” Kate said.

“Well, pardon me,” Amanda said with a head wiggle. “I was hungry, and it was the only thing in the house. Conrad never said I couldn’t eat something that was left in the refrigerator. And I was thirsty, so I had a glass of tea. What do I owe you?”

“Being the first wife don’t give you the right to get all bitchy over a glass of tea,” Jamie said.

“Conrad is dead, so what he said in this house does not matter. And I’m not the first wife. I’m just likely the oldest one alive today. Didn’t Hattie tell you about Iris?” Kate propped a hip on the porch railing.

“Who is Iris?” Amanda asked.

Kate told them the story, continuing, “I have started a file with things I can remember, like how Conrad only came home a day a month to talk to his accountant—or maybe I should say he came to my house. If you’ll do the same, maybe it will help that detective to see that we aren’t guilty of conspiracy to commit murder.”

“I’m not doing one blasted thing,” Jamie said.

“Then if he finds us guilty, you’d better get your affairs in order as far as Gracie is concerned, and you’d better have someone designated to raise that baby, Amanda.”

“You are just trying to scare me.” Amanda frowned.

“No, she’s not. She might have money, but . . .” Jamie stopped.

Gracie picked up a couple of dolls. “I’m going to my room where it’s cool. When is supper, Mama? I’m hungry.” She slammed the screen door on the way inside.

Kate almost smiled as she remembered how she used to get into trouble from every single nanny she’d ever had for slamming the back door at her house in Fort Worth.

“But what?” Kate shook away the memory and glanced over at Jamie.

“Do you have children?” Jamie asked.

“No, I do not,” she answered.

“Then she has less to lose than we do if that detective makes a case against us,” Jamie said. “And she’s not trying to scare you. I can prove the days that Conrad was with me and Gracie with my credit card accounts. I charge everything to get the points and then pay it off at the end of the month. Until the past eight or nine months, he came home on Sunday night and we always went to McDonald’s for supper, and every evening after we had supper at home, we went to Culver’s for an ice-cream cone. He said it was his way of spoiling Gracie since he didn’t get to be with her all the time.”

Kate set her mouth in a firm line. “He was spoiling her, but you paid for everything, right?”

Jamie shook her head. “He took care of the taxes and insurance on the house and paid the mortgage.”

“No!” Amanda slapped the arm of her rocking chair. “I wanted to buy a house instead of living in an apartment, but he said we had to pay off this cabin first. I’ve been giving him five hundred dollars a month to make an extra payment on this place.”