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“I—” The rest of the sentence died on her lips at the sound of a door opening in the rear of the clinic. It took a split second for Beau to realize it was the door leading from the main part of the house.
Natalie’s face paled. She took a step away from him. “I’m up front, Slade,” she called.
Beau stood his ground, waiting for Slade to appear. He hadn’t meant to get Natalie in trouble. But they’d done nothing wrong, and he’d be damned if he was going to turn tail and run.
“Hello, Slade,” he said as the man stepped out of the hallway.
“What’re you doing here, Tyler?” The tails of his work shirt hung loose over his belly, and one hand clasped an open can of beer. He looked mean enough to spit acid.
Beau kept his calm. “Your wife’s antivenin saved my brother. The folks at the hospital in Lubbock asked me to bring her a new supply. I just dropped it off.”
“So, if you just dropped it off, how come you’re still here?”
“Show some manners, Slade!” Natalie burst out. “We were talking about the murder of that poor girl, and Beau was asking me if I had a gun. That’s all.”
Slade’s eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “If my wife needs a gun, I’ll give her one of mine. You’ve got no business hanging around her. You got a problem with that, feel free to take me on. I’d enjoy beating you to a bloody pulp.”
Beau’s gaze flickered toward Natalie. Her eyes were big and frightened. Her mouth formed the word Go!
Reining in the urge to drop the man to his knees with a well-placed jab, Beau took a step toward the door. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble for either of you. I’ll be going now. Thanks again for your help, Natalie.”
Tearing his gaze away from her, he strode out the door to his truck. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he backed into the street and switched on the radio. As he headed out of town, he punched in a country music station and cranked the volume up so loud that it almost hurt his ears. He’d hoped the pounding noise would drown out the thoughts in his head—wanting Natalie, worrying about her, knowing he couldn’t allow her problems to become his. It didn’t work. The music’s blare became annoying. He switched the radio off.
Natalie faced her husband across the clinic’s small reception room. “That was uncalled for, Slade,” she said. “Beau’s an old friend and he had a legitimate reason for coming here today. Beyond that, there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Nothing, my aunt Maggy’s ass!” He crushed the can in his fist and flung it to the floor. “I know you went tearing off to Lubbock to be with him. Did you think that because I was on the road I wouldn’t hear about that?”
“Stop it!” Natalie’s fist came down on the counter, hard enough to hurt. “Will was snakebit and had to be Life Flighted to Lubbock. Beau rode along in the helicopter. The hospital was out of antivenin, so I rushed there with what I had. That’s all there was to it. Call the hospital if you don’t believe me! Ask anybody who was there!”
“Like I’d want people to know I was checking up on my wife!”
Seething, she drew herself up, chin thrust at a defiant angle. “I’ve been completely faithful to you, Slade. The whole time we’ve been married, I’ve never strayed once, never even come close. Can you say the same for yourself?”
The moment the last question was out of her mouth, Natalie realized what she’d just said. She saw Slade’s expression harden, saw the color deepen in his handsome, fleshy face. And suddenly, in a flash of insight, what she’d been denying for years became brutally clear.
“Good Lord, that’s what’s behind all this,” she said in a strangled voice. “That’s why you’re so suspicious of me. You’ve been cheating all along, haven’t you?”
His mouth flattened into a grim line. “You bitch!” he snarled, lunging for her. Natalie sprang away, but he caught her wrist and yanked her back toward him. “I’ll teach you to talk that way to your husband—” His hand came up, only to freeze as the front door opened.
“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry.” It was the little old lady with the blue hair and lavender pantsuit. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. “I was just looking for my glasses. I believe I may have left them on that counter.”
With an explosive breath and a muttered oath, Slade stalked past the woman and out the front door. A moment later, Natalie heard his pickup backing out of the garage and roaring down the street.
Beau arrived at the ranch to find a van from a local TV station parked in front of the house. Pulling up next to the vehicle, he turned off the engine and slid out of the driver’s seat. A perky blond reporter sat on the front porch swing, talking with Lute as a cameraman videotaped the interview. Beau could hear her as he walked closer.
“Other people have claimed the girl was a prostitute, Mr. Fletcher. What do you have to say to that?” She was actually smiling, tilting her face to get the best angle for the camera.
Lute was hunched into himself, looking wretched. His skinny arms clutched his ribs, and he appeared to be on the verge of tears. Beau had never punched a woman, but as he strode toward the porch, the urge was there.
“She wasn’t what they say,” Lute mumbled. “She was a nice girl. Nice to everybody. She even let me take her out for pizza.”
“I understand you were one of the last to see her alive,” the blonde continued in a voice so upbeat that she might have been covering a child’s birthday party. “How did you feel when you found her body?”
Lute hunched deeper, not answering.
“Mr. Fletcher, please tell us exactly how you felt. A million viewers out there are wanting to know.”
Beau had reached the porch. Moving to block the camera, he glowered down at the reporter. “This interview is over,” he snapped. “You and your crew have five minutes to get off this property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”
