I felt sick to my stomach.
“Sheriff Haight and Butter were out here Thursday night right around the time Arthur died,” she said.
“I’m so sorry, Libby . . .”
She rolled her sleeve back down. “Wasn’t the first time. Won’t be the last if he has his way.”
I fought the impulse to ask her why she stayed with a man who hurt her, but stopped myself. I’d volunteered at a women’s shelter in college and knew that sort of question didn’t have a simple answer—and besides, it wasn’t any of my business.
“Was Bennett arrested?”
Libby shook her head. “I called the sheriff because I honestly didn’t know what Benny was going to do that night. I’d’ve preferred to have handled it myself, but he came home from work on Monday pissed as hell. I still don’t know what happened, because after his heart attack and in the hospital he was all ‘I love you, baby,’ and ‘I forgive you.’ Begged me not to go, said he’d change, said he’d find a way to fix our marriage.”
She took another long sip of wine, emptying her glass. “I didn’t want him to have another freaking heart attack, so I just told him we’d figure things out. I wasn’t planning on staying long, just until he got stronger.”
“What did Arthur have to say about that?”
“He wanted me to come live with him right away, like while Bennett was still in the hospital.” She pulled off the cork and poured another glass of wine for herself. Again she looked at me, nodding her head in offer.
I shook my head. “So why didn’t you?”
“Bennett and I have been together for fourteen years—basically my whole adult life. Our relationship is complicated. And as much as everyone would like to think it isn’t true, I did love him at one point. I didn’t feel like it was right to leave him when he was so sick like that.”
“So what happened after he was released from the hospital?”
“He came home and after a few days, he started going into the office again, getting his strength back. I was planning to wait till he was back up to speed before telling him it was over. And then, like I said, on Monday he came home from work all amped up. Screaming about how I’d screwed him over in more ways than I knew, how I’d ruined everything. He got drunk—I shoulda left then, I just knew what was coming—but I didn’t. I always wanted to believe better of him than he deserved.” She paused. “Anyway, then he came after me. I got free and ran to the bedroom, grabbed the gun I keep in my nightstand, called 911, and waited with that gun trained on the door until they got here.”
I knew there was some question I was supposed to ask, but I honestly couldn’t think of what to say. All I could do was picture a scared and hurt Libby Nichols hiding in her bedroom waiting to see if she was going to have to shoot her husband to save her own life.
“What happened when the sheriff got here?”
“By then Benny had calmed down some. Carl took him outside in cuffs and would have taken him down to the office, but I said I didn’t want to press charges.”
“How come?” I asked the question gently.
“It wouldn’t do any good—probably just make him madder. Right now I’m just trying to keep him calm and happy long enough for me to figure a few things out. And then, I’m so outta here.”
For the first time since I’d met the woman, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Libby Nichols was telling me the truth.
She walked me back to the front door. Just before I left something caught my eye—it was a framed picture sitting on her entry table. It looked familiar. I took a step closer. It was the same photograph that I’d seen hanging in Brandon Laytner’s office. Bennett, Brandon, and another man who looked vaguely familiar, all in hats and sunglasses, on a boat holding up a huge swordfish.
“What?” Libby asked, noticing my reaction.
“Is this Bennett and Brandon Laytner?”
“Yeah. They’ve been friends since high school. Why?”
“No reason,” I said, unable to pinpoint why this surprised me so much. I guess it made sense. Both of them were about the same age and grew up here; it stood to reason they’d be friends. “I just met him the other day.”
“He’s a real treat, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said, my mind spinning out questions faster than I could catch them. “Did you know Arthur was consulting for Brandon’s company?”
She nodded. “He was, but he quit. I told him he didn’t want any part of anything that Brandon and Bennett were involved in—”
“Did you say Bennett was involved in Invigor8?”
“He’s one of the principal investors. Why?”
So that must have been the real reason Arthur quit the study, and the mysterious “conflict of interest” Brandon was referring to earlier. It all made much more sense now. And, to my mind, made Bennett Nichols look guiltier than ever.
I thanked Libby again for her time. Not really knowing what else to say, I said, “Take care of yourself.”
She gave me a wicked smile and said, “Oh girl, you can count on that.”
CHAPTER 31
When I left the Nichols house, I couldn’t get that bruise out of my mind. I had instantly disliked Bennett Nichols when I’d met him—and that was before I realized he was the kind of chickenshit coward who hits women. I couldn’t imagine what Libby had been through during their fourteen-year relationship, and I hoped she was serious when she said she was planning to leave him.
All of a sudden my anger at Jay seemed unimportant. I wanted to hold him and have him hold me back. I still disagreed with him, but it had been childish of me to hang up on him. He didn’t deserve that. One of my biggest mistakes with
