Watson, Kathi Barton [little red riding hood ebook .txt] 📗

have anyone bring too much in for her to use. Putting it in the duffle they’d handed her would have crumbled it all up.

Tina was standing at the door when a man in a suit, along with the man who had been by earlier, approached.

“Christina Wilson, you’ve been—” She said it was Tina Wilkerson. “No. According to the divorce paperwork I was handed when I came to fetch you, you’re no longer entitled to use the name Wilkerson for personal use nor in business dealings. In the event that your ex-husband wants to remarry.”

“Remarry? Honey, I don’t know how you came to that conclusion that he could remarry, but he’s married to me. Until death, we do part, which will be sooner than he expects the way things are going this minute. Now get out of my way so I can go home. You’ve no idea how excited I am right now.” He laughed with her as he chained her up. “I suppose you think this is necessary? I’m only going out to the limo that I’m sure Wesley sent for me. Really? You have to show how powerful you are now? “Christ, I hate fucking men.”

“Not from what I heard, you don’t.” She didn’t know what that meant but let it go. She saw the others in her click standing in the big hall too. They all had the same duffle and looked as excited as she did. “All right. We’re going to load up in the vans out front. Then you will—”

“Where is Christa? I have a few things to say to her.” The officer at the door asked her if she’d heard yet. “Heard what? Where is Christa Wilkerson? I need to see her too. We’re the best group of women that—”

“Christa committed suicide two nights ago.”

Chapter 3

Wats found Booker sitting outside the house that had been on the market. He had been sitting out here, the realtor told him since they’d arrived. Sitting down next to his cousin, he sat there in silence, waiting on Booker to say something first. It didn’t take him long to speak up.

“I don’t like me right now.” Wats asked him what he meant by that. “Is a son supposed to feel relieved that his mother is gone? That she’s no longer a threat to me or those that I love? I doubt very much anyone feels like this when their mother chews her wrists open rather than go on for another day. She left me a note. Did I tell you?”

“I heard, but I didn’t hear what it said.” Booker handed him the note. It was still sealed. “You’ve not read it yet. Is there a reason for that?”

“I can’t. I know it’s going to be something along the lines that it’s all my fault that she’s done this. Or Dad’s. Did I tell you that Dad and I are planning a trip to go ice fishing this winter? I’ve never done it before. I’m actually looking forward to it.” Wats was planning trips with his dad as well. More along the lines of baseball games and camping trips. “Will you read it for me? Not to me, but just read it, then if it’s not too overwhelming, I’ll take it.”

“All right. But what happens if it’s all drivel about you causing her demise? I’m reasonably sure she isn’t going to be any different with this than any of the rest of them have been.” Wats laughed. “Later, sometime soon, you’ll have to look at the recording of the women being sent to the prison. It made my entire day just watching the looks on their faces when they realized they weren’t going home, but to a larger facility.” He thought about what he’d said. “I’m sorry. Booker. That was really insensitive of me.”

“No. I would love to watch it. As I said, I have no feeling whatsoever about my mother. I don’t think I have for a very long time.” The door opened behind them, and the realtor asked if Booker wanted to see any more of the house. “No. I’ve seen enough. Tell the bank, who I know owns this place, that I’ll give them fifty cents on the dollar for what is owed in back taxes and nothing more. The house has been on the market for far too long for someone to pay what they’re asking. Also, they’ll give me a short-term loan for the balance, or I’ll pay cash for the house, and they’ll not earn anything from the deal.” He looked at Wats before continuing with the woman making notes. “Also, this is a deal-breaker—I want a good deal on the surrounding acreage. I looked it up—it’s nearly three hundred acres, not including the fifty around the house.”

“I don’t think they’ll go for that, Mr. Wilkerson.” Booker told her he’d just find another house and another realtor. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

Wats could tell that Booker had pissed the woman off. And when she went into the house again, he asked him why he’d do that. She’d not done anything wrong that he’d seen. Booker said she’d commented that the house had several more offers on it, all of them higher than the asking price.

“She lied to you.” He nodded. “I think people hear that you’re a college professor and a chemistry one at that and automatically think you’re a nerd and know nothing about anything other than a lab. But what they don’t realize, until it’s too late, is that not only are you brilliant, but you also have a good sense of the market.”

“Yeah, that’s what gets people in trouble. Assuming.” He asked him to open the letter. “I’ve decided that I want you to read it to me, buddy. I want to feel like—I don’t know. I need to feel something about my mother instead of just this nothing void that I have about her now. Hate and love, they’re two sides of the same coin if you’re