Fool's Gold (A sexy funny mystery/romance, Cottonmouth Book 2) by Jennifer Skully Page B

plastic trash can
lids to simulate a baseball diamond.
    The shadow was too big for a coyote, and it
didn’t move with the loping amble of the wily animals.
    Her skin prickled. For a moment, she felt as
if the thing crouched and watched her . She had the sudden
terrible feeling it, whatever it was, had been watching her the
whole time she talked on the phone with her sister.
    For a moment, the crescent moon slid behind a
cloud. When it slipped out again, the shadow at the end of the lane
was gone.
    Simone rubbed her arms. It was her
imagination playing tricks on her. Silly. Still, she locked up
tight, both the porch screen and her front door.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Brax hadn’t asked Simone a single pointed
interrogative question. He didn’t care. In fact, he’d revealed more
about himself than he’d learned about her. He didn’t care about
that either. Simone wasn’t sleeping with Carl. She wouldn’t do that
to Maggie. That secret email was not about an affair. Something
else, not that. He’d stake his tarnished reputation on it. Maybe
Carl was hitting up Simone for love life advice. He might even have
asked her to write a story with which to surprise and delight
Maggie, a peace offering to fix whatever was wrong in their
marriage. Yeah. That explanation set well with him.
    Brax was whistling when he entered the front
door, which opened straight into the main part of the trailer.
Ahead was the kitchen and kitty-corner, the den, where Maggie sat,
staring sightlessly at the TV.
    She sat cross-legged on the couch, arms over
her chest, her chin drooping. There was not a smile within a mile
of her.
    Damn. The little talk with Carl had probably
degenerated into a big argument.
    Brax dispensed with the formalities and sat
on the heavy lacquered wood coffee table in front of her. “What’s
wrong?”
    She stared at his chest as if she could see
right through it to the TV. Her eyes were red rimmed, her cheeks
blotchy, and telltale tears left tracks down to the edges of her
mouth. “He’s out in his office.”
    “What did you say to him?”
    She looked at him sharply. “I didn’t say
anything inflammatory.”
    Whoa, girl. He held up his hand. “I
didn’t mean that you did. But what happened?”
    “I made dinner. He came home. He went out to
the trailer. And he’s been there ever since.” Her lower lip
trembled. “He didn’t even eat dinner, and I made his favorite.
Fried liver smothered with onions and bacon. I had to throw it all
away.”
    Egads . The trash sounded like a good
place for that meal, but Brax didn’t comment. “What happened in
between the time he came home and when he went out to the
trailer?”
    Her gaze dropped once more to the middle of
his shirt, her lips flattened, then she twisted her mouth back and
forth. “Nothing.”
    “Mag-gie.”
    “All right already,” she snapped and
proceeded to tell him. When she finished, her mouth twisted, her
nostrils twitched, and her eyes filled with tears.
    “It’s okay, honey,” Brax murmured soothingly.
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
    “No.”
    “Tell me what I can do to help.” Because he
felt too damn helpless watching her cry.
    “You can’t do anything. I know that. I really
blew it, Tyler. I shouldn’t have gotten mad.”
    “He shouldn’t have come home late.” Though,
in Carl’s defense, he hadn’t known Maggie was gonna go all out with
the liver and onions. Brax withheld a shudder.
    She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”
    “Let me talk to him, maybe smooth things
over.”
    Her brow creased with a militant frown, and
he knew he’d said the wrong thing. He couldn’t figure out what was
the right thing.
    “I want you to skip the talking part and beat
the crap out of him like big brothers are supposed to do.”
    “I’m your little brother.”
    “You’re bigger than me. And you’re bigger
than Carl. So go beat him up and tell him it’s for me.”
    He smiled. The corners of her mouth turned up
in reply. Not a full smile, but