Blind Tiger by Sandra Brown

“What’s he do there?”

“Sets dynamite. He blasts through mountains for railroad and highway construction.” She raised her head and gave Bill a baleful look. “Is this important?”

“When did you last hear from him?”

“Barking up that tree will be a waste of your time. Every two months I go to see him. He hasn’t come home since Norma moved in with us.”

“They didn’t get along?”

“Couldn’t stand each other. She called him a bore. He called her silly and conceited.” In a mumble, she added, “Among other things.”

“If there’s so much animosity between them, why did she come to live with you?”

She hesitated, looking resentful of the question. Finally she said, “Because the man she had been living with in Austin kicked her out for cheating on him. She had no money, no job, nowhere else to go.”

Bill asked her to write down the name of the company her husband worked for. She did. The sheriff tucked it into his breast pocket.

“What about the father of her son?”

She smoked, saying nothing.

Bill prompted. “Had Norma been asking him for money? Demanding that he marry her? Something like that?”

Having smoked her cigarette down, she ground it out. “I wouldn’t know, Sheriff Amos, because I don’t know who Arthur’s father is.”

She caught the skeptical look Thatcher and Bill exchanged. “You don’t believe that? It’s true. Swear to God, I don’t know.” She turned to Thatcher. “You’re young and good-looking. Were you acquainted with my sister?”

“No, ma’am. But I saw her once.”

“Did your eyes pop out of your head?”

He gave a shy smile, and she snuffled.

“Norma had that effect on men.” Turning back to the sheriff, her momentary mirth disappeared. “She used her looks to her advantage. She had a lot of men. But to be dragging her name through the dirt while her body is still warm just doesn’t sit right with me.”

Before Bill could respond, Thatcher said, “It isn’t right. But neither is a brutal, fatal assault. What Sheriff Amos is trying to do is find out who did it. The more information you give him, the better chance he has of catching the man and seeing him punished.”

Patsy’s chest caved in a little. Her hostility cooled. As she thought over what Thatcher had said, she picked at the loose stitching on the handbag in her lap. “Norma had been carrying on an affair with Dr. Gabe Driscoll.”

She looked at Bill and Thatcher in turn. He wondered if she noted that neither was surprised to hear this.

Bill asked, “For how long?”

“Close to a year.”

“Where did they rendezvous?”

“He always came to the house. Or did. He hasn’t been there since the night his wife disappeared. Norma wasn’t happy about not seeing him.”

“Up until Mrs. Driscoll’s disappearance, how often did they meet?”

“Two or three times a week. He would come by while he was out making rural calls. But he isn’t Arthur’s father. Norma was already pregnant when she met him. She only passed the baby off as his to reel him in. She set her sights and went after him.”

Watching her closely, Bill tugged at the corner of his mustache. “Did they conspire to get rid of Mrs. Driscoll?”

“I don’t think Norma had anything to do with it.”

“Mrs. Kemp—”

“I’ll tell you why,” she said, cutting Bill off. “Norma didn’t consider Gabe’s missus competition. She had convinced herself that Gabe would ultimately choose her and Arthur over ‘that fat German cow,’ as she called her.

“She had big plans for Gabe to move her and Arthur into that large, pretty house. As his wife, she would become a society maven. I told her she was delusional. But I also saw how besotted Gabe was with her.” She shrugged. “Maybe he gave in to her impatience.”

“Gabe claims to have been at your house twice on the day his wife went missing. Once in the afternoon, once late that night.”

“He was, but not to help with Arthur’s breech birth, because Arthur was already a month old. Gabe came that afternoon. He held the baby for half an hour and spent another thirty minutes in the bedroom with Norma. They were lovey-dovey. She begged him to stay longer and was pouty when he left.

“When he came back that night, it was a different story. He was frantic. I mean berserk. Batshit crazy. I had to deal with him myself because Norma was out.”

“Out where?”

Thatcher could tell she was reluctant to answer, but finally she did. “There was someone else. Before Gabe, and the whole time she was with him.”

“The baby’s father?”

“That would be my guess, but I don’t know. It was a very secretive affair. She always went to him. She was with him that evening of Mrs. Driscoll’s disappearance. When she got back home, Gabe was there, but he was too distraught even to ask where she’d been.”

“What time did she get home?”

“Midnight or better. Honestly, I believe Gabe is rather thick. She smelled of sex. He’s a doctor, right?” She snorted with derision. “Arthur was a hefty newborn. Any fool could see he was too big to be six weeks early, as Norma claimed. But Gabe never raised a question about his size or seemed to doubt that he was the father. In my opinion he’s a loser.”