“She was a confidential informant who was there to talk to him about a case, and he told me that he only called you to tell you to stay away from him like he’s done dozens of times,” Kayla said.

“Was she fully clothed?” Jody asked.

“Yes, she was. When I arrived she was in the bathroom, and she came out with all her clothes on except her shoes.” Kayla sank down on a sofa.

“And was the bed made or unmade?” Mitzi asked.

“It was mussed up, but Clinton never makes his bed.” Kayla’s voice didn’t sound quite as defiant as it did before. “If he’d been doin’ something he shouldn’t, then he wouldn’t have been so happy to see me and Clay.”

“I promise”—Paula raised her hand as if she was being sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth—“I will never call Clinton or have any dealings with him. I’ll be glad that he’s completely out of my life.”

Mitzi wanted so badly to open her mouth and tell the woman exactly what kind of man she was married to, but she clamped it shut tightly and kept her peace. It wasn’t her place, and if Paula chose to walk the high road, then Mitzi would respect that.

“Okay, then.” Kayla pushed up off the sofa. “That’s what I wanted to hear, and if I find out you’ve been callin’ him or sending him any more lewd pictures of you, I’ll figure out a way to sue you. I’m sure there’s something that’s illegal.”

“Did you see ugly pictures?” Jody asked.

“No, I did not, and I don’t want to, either. He’s deleted them all to spare me the hurt.” Kayla whipped around as fast as a pregnant woman possibly could and waddled out.

“You have a nice day, now.” Mitzi followed her and locked up behind her.

“Bless her little ignorant heart,” Jody said. “And I mean that in every sense of the word. But I would’ve probably been in the same frame of mind if Lyle’s woman would have showed up at my trailer tellin’ me she was pregnant. Lookin’ back, it’s probably best the way things happened, even if it did shock the crap out of me at the time.”

“I just want her, him, and their drama out of my life. I want to raise my daughter with y’all’s help and forget all about the man who got me pregnant,” Paula said. “Let’s go back to the kitchen and finish breakfast. I hope to hell that Mitzi’s fairy tale is better than this.”

“Oh, it is, trust me,” Mitzi assured them. “But before I get into it, I got to tell you that you are one classy woman.”

Paula raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m just protecting my future with my child.”