The Second Wife Read Online Free Page A

as it had been. I heard the cleaner talking to someone down the hall. I hunched over and scooted out of the office and around the corner. I glanced back and saw Cal bent over the water fountain. This gave me time to keep going down the hall to the exit. I hoped that he wouldn’t notice the overhead lights on in his office. Maybe he’d think it was the cleaner who’d been inside.
    I drove home as if I was being chased. I ran a red light before I calmed down. I’d even tucked my handbag out of sight under a blanket in the trunk. My fear was that Cal would notice that somebody had gone through his papers. He’d have to figure out that I was the only one interested. He’d track me down and throw me in the cell next to Brian.
    None of this happened.
    I made it home without being stopped. I ran inside, locked the door and set the house alarm. Then I closed the curtains in the living room and spread the file out on the coffee table. I settled myself on the couch with a glass of red wine and a yellow highlighter.
    I read through all of the evidence and statements. I stopped only long enough to heat up a frozen dinner in the microwave. I wolfed it down while looking at the shadows in the backyard through the kitchen window. I thought I saw a flash of white behind the raspberry bushes in the corner of the yard. I kept watching. A plastic bag blew from the bush and across the grass toward the house. I let out my breath. For a minute I’d pictured Cal lurking in the bushes, waiting to arrest me.
    I carefully read through the file a second time. I learned that the body had been wearing Marjory’s wedding band. Jason had recognized what was left of the clothes. That would have confirmed the positive id from the dental records. The dental X-rays were also in the file. She’d been strangled. Jason had reported that his mother and father divorced when he was twelve years old. He’d moved with his mother to an apartment on Oak Street three years ago. Before that, they’d lived in Ohio.
    My eyes were getting blurry. I packed up the papers and hid them in the bookcase. Then I went to bed.
    I had trouble falling asleep with all the information swirling around in my brain. I dozed, but it was a fitful sleep. When the birds started singing, I gave up trying. I staggered into the kitchen and made the coffee extra strong.
    I poured a cup and sat at the kitchen table, thinking. The information replayed in my head like a series of pictures. By the second cup of black coffee, I’d come up with a plan. The file had given me the first place to start digging. It was the Hampton Temp Agency—the place Marjory had worked when she met Brian. According to Cal’s notes, the owner was a woman named Sally Peters.
    I stood up to fill my cup again. I’d make some eggs and toast to go with it. Then I’d get dressed and spend my Saturday playing detective.

CHAPTER NINE
    S ally Peters was unlocking the door when I drove into the parking lot. She held a coffee in one hand with a newspaper tucked under her arm. I stepped out of my car and walked across the parking lot toward her.
    â€œDo you have a few minutes?” I asked. “I’m with the police and have a couple more questions about Marjory White.”
    She glanced at the badge I flashed at waist level. Then she pushed the door open. “Why not? You’re lucky to have caught me. I just came in today to catch up on paperwork.” She was a tall woman with bristly orange hair and a hooked nose. Her red workout outfit had a designer logo. Gold jewelry dripped from her ears, neck and arms. The woman was making money, no doubt about that. I wondered how much her employees were being paid. Probably not enough to buy the bling hanging around her neck.
    We stepped inside. She and a trail of strong perfume led me into her office. I sat down across from her with a desk between us.
    â€œSad news about Marjory,” she said. She raised the