Isabelle awoke several hours later, groggy and confused but feeling infinitely better. She wasn’t sure if it was the can of ginger ale, the soda crackers, or the fact that every trace of crab had left her system, but her stomach felt almost normal again. She gazed around their well-appointed room. The air-conditioning had been turned up and a lightweight quilt pulled to her neck. Moonlight streaming through slits in the wooden blinds danced across the bed, a bed she occupied alone.
Once fully in charge of her faculties, Isabelle headed to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Poor Nate! He’d had such high hopes, but her stomach had other plans for the evening. Thankfully, she’d married a thoughtful and considerate man.
Isabelle found her husband asleep in the sitting room recliner, the volume on the TV turned low. ESPN’s continuous loop of updates rolled across the screen. After studying his face in repose, Isabelle didn’t have the heart to wake him. Although he’d rest better in bed, he might have trouble falling back to sleep. She consulted her watch and made an impetuous decision. Taking her phone to the porch, she settled in a rocker and punched in a number. Craig told her several times that his new wife was a night owl. Cassie liked to read into the wee hours and then take afternoon naps when she got home from work.
“Hello, Cassie?” she whispered when the other end picked up. “It’s Isabelle Price from Natchez. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Izzy? Are you and Nate finally on your honeymoon? Of course you didn’t wake me. It’s barely midnight.” Cassie released a cheerful laugh, not sounding at all sleepy. “It’ll be hours before I sleep, to quote Robert Frost.”
“Thank goodness. I wanted to catch you before things got hectic here. First, thanks again for the thousand dollars you and Craig sent last month. We plan to put that toward a new car for me. At long last, the Prius gave up the ghost.”
“You’re welcome. Craig regretted sticking you with half the credit card debt in the divorce. Most of it had been cash advances to feed his habit. It’s only fair that Craig pays you back.”
Isabelle noticed two things about Cassie’s reply: Number one, she didn’t drop her voice when referring to her husband’s addiction. Even though Craig’s problems were out in the open, a wife usually spared a husband’s feelings by not referencing them. And two, she had used past tense to describe Craig’s mind-set. “Well, those checks have been a big help to us. We might have cut our honeymoon short if not for Craig. My car broke down right before we left Natchez.” After a moment’s hesitation, Isabelle’s prodding yielded the intended results.
“I’m glad you were able to get away, but that check might be the last one for a while.”
Patiently Isabelle rocked, watching lights twinkle across the bay. “We can get by without the money,” she said at last, “but I sense there’s something you’re not telling me. If you want me to respect your privacy, fine, but if you’d like to talk, I’m here to listen.”
“It’s a short story, actually. Craig left me. That’s why I’m not sure if there’ll be any more checks. Apparently, he fell in love with a law clerk where he works.” Cassie emitted a bitter laugh. “She’s probably more fun than me, but it’s hard to stay cheerful while digging out of a financial hole.”
Isabelle’s heart broke for her ex’s second wife. What a nightmare to fall in love with a man with so much baggage and then be left on the sidelines. Yet despite Cassie’s frank confession, something niggled in the back of Isabelle’s mind. Craig might have an addictive personality, and he might have problems with money management, but he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. And to suddenly tell your new wife she was being replaced was cruel.
“I truly hate to ask, but do you think Craig might have moved to Bay St. Louis with this other woman?”
“Where on earth is Bay St. Louis?” Cassie sounded bewildered.
“It’s a nice little town on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, close to Gulfport and Biloxi, but not as well-known.”
“Oh, no. Craig would never move to an area that has casinos. He joined Gamblers Anonymous after we got engaged and still regularly attends meetings. Why do you ask?”
Isabelle stopped rocking. “Because I thought I saw him drive by earlier tonight. Did he happen to grow a beard and mustache?”
“You must be mistaken, Izzy. You know Craig hated facial hair. He was even fanatical about five o’clock shadow, remember? He would shave if we were going out. I’m sure he and whoever-she-is still live in Nashville.”
Cassie’s voice contained so much sadness Isabelle couldn’t press the matter any further. “Thanks for clearing that up, and I’m sorry for your loss. Craig didn’t deserve you.”
“Ditto, wife-number-one. Have fun on your honeymoon, Izzy. Don’t give that lowlife we both had the misfortune to marry another thought.”
After they hung up, it was a long time before Isabelle could fall asleep. Despite Cassie’s and Nate’s assurances, she knew whom she had seen on South Beach Drive. Craig Mitchell was in Bay St. Louis. She would know that slimeball anywhere.