Page 71 of Lie for a Million

“Oh please. It might not be worth much, but it’s all I have left from Frank—except for the baby, of course.”

“Oh course. But that brings me to another matter. When I asked the doctor whether your baby was all right, she gave me a surprised look. She told me she’d found no indication that you were pregnant. How would you explain that?”

Crystal felt something crumble inside her. Real or not, that baby had been her last hope for a future of comfort, abundance, and respect. Now there could be no more pretense. Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes. “I really was pregnant,” she said. “The baby was Frank’s. But I had a miscarriage. I couldn’t help it. It just happened.”

“So you decided to keep it a secret. You were going to take what you could get from Lila and disappear before she learned the truth. Is that what you were thinking?”

Crystal let her silence answer the question. How could anyone blame her? That baby had been her ticket to a better life. Now she had nothing—not even a plausible lie.

“Does Lila know?” she asked.

“Not yet. But she will. I plan to tell her myself.”

“I don’t want to face her. Please don’t make me.”

“That isn’t up to me.” He moved the chair back and stood. “But I have a feeling that after what you’ve done to her, Lila will never want to set eyes on you again. You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t have you arrested.”

“But I didn’t mean any harm. I just—”

“We’re finished here, Crystal.” Rafferty turned to go.

As he reached the door, Crystal was seized by a sudden afterthought. “Wait!” she said. “I just remembered something important—something Judd said when we were fighting.”

He turned back toward her. “I’m listening.”

“Judd told me that he killed Frank—told me how he arranged to meet him in the stable and how he got the syringe and filled it with fentanyl. He said he did it for love. But if he loved me, why would he do this to me?” She gestured toward her swollen eye and bandaged head.

“Did he say what he did with the syringe?” Rafferty asked.

“No. But he was jealous of Frank. He hated him because of me. And he wanted me to know what he’d done. Find Judd, and you’ll have your murderer.”

“Would you be willing to sign a statement swearing to what you just told me?”

“Anything. Judd killed the man I loved, the father of my baby. I just want him punished.” She strained to sit up, then fell back onto the pillow. “But right now, I’m not sure I can even hold a pen.”

“That’s fine. I have preparations to make. I’ll be back tomorrow with the document and a recorder. Meanwhile, think about the details—anything you remember.”

After the FBI agent had left, Crystal lay with her eyes closed, struggling to collect her scattered thoughts. Had Sam Rafferty believed what she’d told him about Judd being the murderer? She’d made up the story on the spot, but it could well be true. Judd really had hated Frank. He had access to fentanyl, and he was capable of killing. He belonged in prison, maybe even on death row.

Judd would already have the FBI on his trail. But that wasn’t going to help her now. After the lie about the baby, she could be in big trouble. If she wanted to remain free, she needed to get out of this clinic and out of Willow Bend. She could sell the ring if it wasn’t gone. But the money wouldn’t last. She needed as much cash as she could get her hands on.

Think, Crystal . . .

Then she remembered something. Darrin and Simone hadn’t known about the baby or about her pending deal with Lila—not until she’d told them. And they wouldn’t know about the miscarriage. If they thought she was pregnant, they might still be good for some traveling money.

It might be a long shot, but it was the best chance she had. She would check out of the clinic as soon she was able to stand, call someone from work for a ride home, find her phone, and make the call.

* * *

Rowdy and Judd had picked up Interstate 20 out of Abilene. By now, a few hours later, they were coming into Odessa and the truck was running low on gas.

Judd had swilled several beers and was in no condition to be trusted at the wheel, so Rowdy had done the driving. He was getting tired and hungry. It was time for a break.

At the next exit, Rowdy took the off-ramp and pulled up to the gas pumps at a 7-Eleven. As he stopped at the pump, Judd, who’d been dozing on and off, sat up with a yawn.

“What d’you say I fill the tank while you go inside and get some snacks?” Judd suggested. “I’ve got my Visa. I can pay at the pump.”

“Thanks.” Rowdy opened the door of the high cab and swung to the ground. “What would you like for snacks?”

---