Baited Read Free Page A

few people bonded over tobacco anymore. “Since you were expecting me, I hope you won’t mind answering a few questions?”
    “Got one for you first. What’s your name?”
    “Julie Collins.” I waited for her to ask me for a business card, or anything proving my identity. She didn’t. Sometimes we’re far too trusting in the “fly-over” states.
    Cindy Jo exhaled, staring at me through the haze. “Well, Julie Collins, what is it you want to know?”
    “According to our information, your husband, JC Bettleyoun disappeared four weeks ago.” She nodded. “The police report said he called you on his cell phone on his way to Kansas City.”
    “Yep. Of course, we had a fight, which was nothin’ new.”
    “I assume you remember what the fight was about?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Him and his damn fool idea of becoming a professional fisherman.” Leaning back, she blew smoke rings toward the dingy ceiling before facing me again. “You married?”
    “Once. A few years back. Didn’t work out.”  
    “I hear ya.” Her jaw flexed grotesquely as she filled the space with lopsided smoke rings. “Did you ever look across the breakfast table at the man you’d married, wondering what the hell you’d done? Think I would’ve learned my lesson when I had that exact same thought with my first husband.” Cindy Jo chuckled at my surprised expression. “Guess your little report regarding JC’s life insurance policy didn’t tell you I’d been married before.”
    “How long ago?”
    “Been twenty years since Eddie, that drunken fool, wrapped his Harley around a pine tree. Died instantly. Left me in a helluva bind. I walked away from that life and never looked back.” She gestured around the cramped space with something akin to pride. “Built this place on my own and swore I’d never be dependent on any man to take care of me again. That’s what attracted me to JC. He wasn’t one of those men who wanted a woman as his cook, maid and whore.” She snickered. “Hell, most of the time he was doing those things for me.”  
    A spot beyond the door held her attention and I waited.  
    “When it was good between us, it was perfect. But when it was bad, it was hell on earth. Know what I mean?”
    I knew exactly what she meant; I was well versed in hellish relationships, both familial and intimate.  
    “As long as I kept money in his account he was willing to let me call the shots. Then he got real cocky and secretive last fall. I knew he was up to no good, with his sudden influx of money.” She punctuated her displeasure with the end of her cigarette. “I recognized the pattern. I’d lived through drug raids with Eddie and I’m too damn old to do it again.”
    Confused, I ground out my half-smoked Marlboro. This conversation wasn’t helping. In fact, I found myself sympathizing with Cindy Jo. JC was a total loser. She would be better off if he had skipped town. However, I doubted my client would be pleased with my analysis. “Do you have any idea where JC is?”  
    “Dead, probably.”
    I lifted a brow and leaned back on the stool. Both Rich and Cindy Jo assumed JC was dead.  
    “I don’t play the part of the grieving widow very convincingly, do I?” A frustrated hand raked her glossy hair. “I’ll be honest. JC was stupid to get mixed up in the drug trade. If he hadn’t disappeared, we’d be in divorce court anyway. I talked to our attorney last week and found out another interesting tidbit. Seems before he took off, he changed his will.”
    “The lawyer disclosed the new terms of JC’s will to you?” I frowned. “Isn’t that illegal?”
    “Of course. But he knows which side his bread is buttered on.”
    That description fit a boatload of lawyers, but a greasy one in particular floated to the top in my mind. “Charles LaChance?”  
    Cindy Jo nodded, unperturbed by my guess.  
    “Why would JC change his will?”
    “Because he was a bastard. After he became flush with cash, he took great