“So, he’s going to be okay?” Kip asked.
“Yep, kiddo, he’s going to be okay.”
“And they don’t know who shot him?” Randa asked.
I shook my head. “No, but they’re looking into it. The bullet didn’t penetrate—it only grazed him—but that means they have to find it at the scene in order to be certain what kind of gun it came from.”
Kip’s lip fluttered. “Did Dad shoot him?”
Oh shit, so I wasn’t the only one who thought of that possibility. “Who suggested that?” I asked carefully.
“Great-Grandma. She called Dad a bad name and then said she wouldn’t put it past him.” His eyes were wide and I knew I had to squash the situation before it became part of the rumor mill. Regardless of what I thought about Roy, until the cops excluded or included him in the list of suspects I had no right to tell my children that I secretly thought he might be responsible.
“Grandma M. has a short fuse. She’s speculating. That means she doesn’t know what happened, but is thinking about possible suspects.” I made them both face me. “Listen to me carefully. We don’t know who did it. Your father might end up being considered a suspect, but there are a lot of people who could have pulled the trigger. The shot could have been fired by a hunter or a kid out for target practice—it could just be an accident. Until we know more, I don’t want you repeating any rumors, okay?”
Kip nodded. Randa frowned, leaning forward. “Did you tell them where Dad’s staying?”
I gave her a sharp look. “Do you know where he’s staying? I didn’t even know he was in town until he showed up at the party last night.”
Kip scuffed his foot against the carpet. “Yeah, he’s at the Four Seasons Motel. He told me he was coming into town on Wednesday, but he said he wanted it to be a surprise so not to say anything to you. I thought he was coming to see us, but he hasn’t called or nothin’.” Kip looked hurt, the way he always did when Roy screwed up.
So, good ol’ Roy was playing my kids against me. I sighed and picked up the phone. No messages.
“Do you have his number?” As Kip nodded, I grabbed a notebook and jotted it down, along with his room number. Murray said Greg had found out where he was staying, but it wouldn’t hurt for me to have the information, since I was planning to light into him myself. If he wasn’t already in jail, that is. He had to learn to quit breaking his promises to the kids.
The phone rang and Kip grabbed it, but his face fell as he handed it to me. It was Murray.
“Hey, chica, we found Roy,” she said. “He doesn’t have much of an alibi for this morning—he says he was sleeping off last night’s party. I’m inclined to believe him, but I’ve ordered him not to leave town until I give him the okay. You never know. Other than that, we found the bullet. The doctor was right, it came from a twenty-two. Joe’s just lucky it wasn’t a shotgun or he’d be in hurt-heaven by now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
I mumbled a quick good-bye and eyed the phone. So, Roy had no alibi for the morning other than a tousled bed. I wanted to believe that he hadn’t done it, that he hadn’t stooped that low. My gut warned me against jumping to conclusions, but my emotions were running wild. He’d threatened to make my life hell and as good as promised to ruin my wedding. Was this what he meant? Or were his threats merely a drunken stab to make me as miserable as he was?
Either way, I pushed him out of my mind. I had a phone call to make. Joe’s brother, Nathan, was due in town tomorrow morning, but if it were me, I’d want to know as soon as possible. I debated ringing his parents, too, but then pushed that thought aside. Joe would have a fit if he found out I’d called them.
He’d refused to invite either of them to the wedding, and I hadn’t pressured him. Dexter, his father, had abandoned the family when the boys were young, following the lure of the casinos. As for Terri, Joe’s mother, she’d been shacked up with one loser or another for most of Joe’s life. He’d long ago given up on expecting support from either his parents.
I flipped through the address book, found Nathan’s number, and punched in the keys. After a few rings, Nate answered, sounding so much like Joe that it gave me chills. “Nathan? This is Emerald. Joe’s fiancée.”
A pause, then an “Oh shit!”
I frowned at the phone. “What?”
“Sorry,” came the garbled reply. “Just a minute.” Nathan’s words were obviously aimed toward somebody in the room with him. After a few blurred syllables that might have been “hold on” or “hang on,” he cleared his throat. “Listen, I meant to call Joe tonight. I can’t make the wedding.”
Great. Could this day get any better? “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he said, and I could hear the strike of a match. So, he smoked. Well, not in my house he wouldn’t. “I’ve been offered the chance to go to Sweden for a couple of weeks but we have to leave tomorrow morning. I can’t pass this up, not when it fell right in my lap. Joe’ll understand. Put him on.”
I counted to ten, my hackles rising. “I can’t put him on. He’s in the hospital. That’s why I called.”
“Oh hell, what’d he go and do now? He been playing hero again? I told him to get out of that business—bad for the health.”
“Don’t you even want to know how he is?” I said, exasperated.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a wad, Sis. I figure if he was dead, you’d be bawling, so he must be okay. What happened?”
Wanting nothing more than to get off the phone and out of this conversation, I forced myself to calm down. “It has nothing to do with his job. Your brother got winged by a bullet from a twenty-two this afternoon. He’s going to be fine, but I thought you might like to know before you arrived. Obviously, since you’re headed to Sweden, that’s no longer an issue. Tell me, were you planning on letting us know about your detour before we were standing at the airport, waiting for your plane?”
“Uh, yeah. I just forgot. Chill, okay?”