Chris? Had killed Ariel? Confusion nearly swamped me. "But-" I stopped myself. Concentrate, Sophie Mae, concentrate.

"Anyway, I for one, wouldn't mind a little help from an interested citizen who might be able to get information through, uh, unofficial channels."

Huh?

When I didn't respond, he said, "Hey, what's wrong with you? I thought you'd be happy to be off the hook. Plus, I thought you'd jump at the chance to help out." He tousled my hair.

I jerked away from his hand. "Knock that off. You know I hate it."

Slowly, his arm lowered. "What's going on?"

I started to bite my lip, then stopped myself. "I came by earlier. While I was here, your wife stopped by. Hannah. She wanted me to tell you she's staying at the Horse Acres Bed and Breakfast."

Barr rolled his eyes. "Great. I should've known she'd come scratching at the door about now."

Well, I don't know what reaction I'd expected, but that wasn't it.

"You're married?" I asked, appalled.

"What? Of course not."

"Have you ever been married?"

He raised his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. "Sophie Mae, please, you have to-"

"I don't have to do anything."

He dropped his hands. "You knew I was married." He actually dared to sound irritated.

"I did not!"

"Listen, can we go inside to fight? Or would you rather the neighbors take part?"

Teeth clenched, I stomped into the house. He went into the kitchen and returned with two beers. Twisting the top off of one, he handed it to me and sank into his favorite TV-watching recliner. I sat on the ugly plaid couch and put the bottle on the spool from hell. It nearly tipped over on the rough surface, and I just managed to catch it.

"I hate this table," I said.

"Okay. We can get a new one."

"It's the homeliest piece of furniture I've seen in my entire life."

A flash of amusement crossed his features. "I told you about Hannah," he said.

"Oh. Right. And when exactly did you do that? You tried in the car after we had Thai food the other night, but then we had to go chase an ambulance. And you never had the courage to 'fess up any of the times I've asked you since."

His forehead wrinkled. "What are you… wait a minute." His face cleared. "You think that's what we needed to talk about?"

Now I was unsure. "Isn't it?" I took a shaky sip of beer.

"No, no. Nothing like that. Remember when I told you that ten years or so ago I was involved with a woman who works at my parents' dude ranch? That it was a mistake, and didn't work out?"

"Sure"

"That was Hannah."

I gaped at him. "Involved? Getting married is `involved'? What are we then, acquaintances?"

He sighed. "It only lasted a couple months. It was a long time ago. I wasn't trying to keep anything from you; I really did think you understood that we'd been married for a short time."

Damn it. That took the wind right out of my sails. Barr had indeed told me about that woman. It was just possible I'd misunderstood the level of their "involvement"

He'd neglected to mention what she looked like, though.

"Well, you certainly do like a type, don't you." I felt bitter and defeated at the same time.

"Type?"

"She looks just like me. Or rather, I look like her, since I'm the Janey-come-lately. At least I used to look like her." My hand started to go to my short hair, but at the last moment I scratched my nose.

"God," Barr said. "Sometimes I just want to shake you."

And I just want to shoot you, I thought, but didn't say. A bolt of understanding hit me, a very personal glimmer of how crimes of passion can occur.

"So why is she here?" I asked.

He looked uncomfortable. "I can't be sure, but I imagine she wants to get back together."

Great. As mad as I'd been, as much as I'd already considered that we might be done and over with, that still hit me hard in the solar plexus. "Do you want to get back together with her?"

"Of course not, you dope. I love you."

I took a big swig of beer and considered him. "She still loves you?"

"Maybe. I doubt it. What Hannah loves is money. Always has."

Another swig. My stomach gurgled. "I don't get it," I said. "You don't have money."

Now he looked uncomfortable. "That's what I was trying to tell you."

What the heck? I put the beer bottle back on the table, and it started to tip over again. I caught it and directed another glare at Barr.

But he was looking out the window. "My uncle died earlier this year. It turns out he left some money to my mom and dad, my brother and sister, and me." He looked directly at me now. "A lot of money. That's what I've been trying to figure out how to tell you.

My mouth dropped open.

"You have a sister?" I practically shrieked the question.

He looked startled. "Sure. Glory. She and her husband live outside of Missoula."

"You never told me you had a sister!"

"I didn't?"

"No. You didn't. Any offspring around that you also forgot to mention?" I wasn't kidding. All of a sudden, it seemed like a valid question.

He laughed. "No"

I very pointedly did not laugh. "You can't expect me to be happy to suddenly meet some woman who says she's your wife. You can't expect me to move in with you when that same ex-wife is staying in town."

His eyes widened. "Listen, Sophie Mae…"

I shook my head so hard my hair whipped across my cheek. "I don't know who you are, Barr Ambrose. I thought I did, but it turns out that I don't."

He tried again. "Listen to me." His voice was reasonable, down to earth, all the things I loved about the guy.

Aargh.

"Hannah must know about the inheritance from my uncle. It would be just like her to think she could get to it through me. Mom will know. I'll call her after dinner."

"Your mother? Why would she know?"

"I told you: Hannah works at the ranch." Barr's parents owned and operated a touristy dude ranch in Wyoming.

"She still works there?"

He nodded. "I'll call her tonight, too. Send her packing. Hannah showing up all of a sudden does not mean anything. You can't let this mess up our plans"

"It's not just about your ex, you know? What about the sister I knew nothing about? What else haven't you told me?"

He shifted in his recliner, leaning toward me. "What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything you'd like."

I shook my head. "We've been dating for eight months, Barr. This is the kind of stuff that just comes up. If I have to know the questions to ask to get basic kinds of information like siblings and past marriages, I don't want to ask them."

"Oh, come on, Sophie Mae. Don't be like that. I'm willing to tell you everything."

My face grew hot, then my eyes. Don't be like that. If the phrase, we have to talk" was dreaded by most males, "don't be like that," trumped it for women. Those were words a man says to a woman who is not behaving in a way they find easy or comfortable. Oh come on. Don't be like that. It was a horribly typical way of trying to control the situation by making me feel bad for being angry.

"Go to hell."

He blinked. The expression on his face changed to contrition. "I'm sorry. You're right, and I'm sorry. I should have thought about the things in my past that might interest you. It's just that I'm not, anymore. Interested, I mean. Glory and I aren't close, I've moved on from the whole Hannah thing, and I'm not one to look backward. But if you want to know, I'll tell you every detail, starting with, `I was born on a stormy winter's night' and going from there."

At least he'd apologized, and it sounded genuine. I sighed. "I'll hold you to that."

Was I being stupid, giving in like that? I'd have to wait and see. As for Barr, he was on probation, as of now.