Read Pick Your Poison for Free Online Page B

proved me wrong. Then he goes and marries the widow of the guy who sold him all that insurance on Cloris. I considered that more than a little fishy.”
    “But his wife’s death was years ago. Did Ben even know Ruth Sawyer then?”
    “Course. Everyone knows everyone here in Shade.” I’m sure they did. “Seems Ben’s wife is the person I came here to find. Could you tell me where she lives?”
    “I already broke the news to her after HPD faxed the first report yesterday. She’s pretty tore up, so you best leave her alone.” He leaned back in the chair, his gut hanging over his belt. Rusty-brown tobacco stains dotted his dingy shirt, along with whatever he’d had for lunch. Something with mustard, I decided.
    “I want to speak to her, so if you don’t mind—”
    “I do mind. I don’t want you bothering the woman. She’s been widowed twice now.”
    I rose. “Since everyone knows everyone here, I suppose plenty of other folks in Shade could point me in the right direction.”
    Nemec stood and placed his chunky hands on the desk, his jowled face dark with anger. “Don’t go bringing up that murdering no-good’s name around my town. Just go back to Houston and leave us be.”
    “I wouldn’t have to bring up his name if you’d simply help me out,” I replied sweetly, countering his agitation with a calmness that surprised me. For some reason, I had gained an advantage with this man, though I wasn’t sure why.
    He stared at me for a second, his lips pursed, eyes narrowed. “Okay. I’ll tell you where Ruth lives if you have to know. But you’ll need to answer me one thing first. The fax from HPD said Ben was poisoned, nothing else. Exactly how did that son of a bitch get his?”
    “Cyanide,” I answered quietly.
    His mouth spread in an unpleasant smile, revealing stained, uneven teeth. “Finally got a taste of his own medicine, huh?”

    Not long after I left the sheriff’s office, I sat down with Ruth Grayson in the small front room of her one-story wood-frame home. Our comfortable twin chairs with their worn upholstery offered a view out a large picture window. A round oak table covered with lace doilies sat between us.
    After I’d offered my condolences and told Mrs. Grayson what I could remember of Ben’s last day on earth—which was precious little, unfortunately—she wanted to fix me tea, even offered to cook me an early supper, but I persuaded her I needed nothing more than time to talk about Ben.
    Twisting a blue tissue with arthritic fingers, she said, “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
    “I know this is difficult,” I said, “but I visited the sheriff first and he was telling me that—”
    “Oh, I know what he said, that my Ben was a killer. That he murdered Cloris. Isn’t that right, miss?”
    “Well . . . yes.”
    “Let me set you straight, then. Ben loved Cloris with all his heart. That’s one reason I didn’t marry him when he first asked me. Her ghost was still perched on his shoulder. The man missed her something awful.”
    “And this is the woman he was accused of killing?”
    “Don’t make sense, do it? But Miss Rose, I’m not sure Ben would be happy with me talking about Cloris. That was his business, like he always told me.”
    “Okay, let’s talk about Ben, then. Why are you so certain he was innocent?”
    “You married, Miss Rose?”
    “I have been, yes.”
    “Because if you’ve been married, then you know that if you live with a man, see how he does you day in and day out, how he handles what the Lord sends him, well . . . you know if he’s a liar. Ain’t that true, miss?”
    “Yes,” I said, silently adding, though sometimes not right away. “But why didn’t Ben leave Shade? He could have started over in a new town.”
    “He feared the insurance company would think he was guilty if he ran off. You see, they tried to wangle out of paying after Cloris’s death, seein’ as how he was a suspect and all.”
    “Sheriff Nemec mentioned an