The Second Wife Read Online Free Page B

coffee cup to her lips. “Horrid way to go, really.” She didn’t sound all that broken up.
    â€œI understand she met her husband through your agency.”
    Sally leaned closer as if telling me a secret. “I hate to gossip about my staff. Still…you are the police. He wasn’t the first client she dated. I never knew what men saw in her. Each to his own, I guess.”
    â€œWould you say she was looking for a man?”
    â€œNo. Well, maybe.” Sally laughed. “Aren’t we all?”
    â€œShe kept working after she was married?”
    â€œNot at first. About three months ago she phoned and asked what I had.” Sally pulled out a file and traced down the page. “Last two jobs included a doctors’ office and a dental clinic.” Sally looked up. “She told me that she wasn’t working for the money. She said it was difficult at home. Her husband was jealous. Working was the only reason he’d let her out of the house.”
    â€œAre you sure she said that?”
    â€œAs sure as I’m sitting here. To be honest, I don’t think he should have thought work would keep her from meeting somebody else. She knew her way around men.”
    â€œWas she good at her job?”
    â€œShe was my best worker. I thought sometimes that she was too smart to be hired as a secretary. She told me once that she’d stayed home to raise her son Jason. That’s why she didn’t go further in school.”
    â€œDid she ever talk about her ex-husband?”
    â€œJust that they divorced when Jason was twelve. They didn’t keep in touch.”
    â€œI met Tina Sweet at the funeral. She didn’t seem too close to Marjory.”
    â€œWell, they used to be friends when Marjory started working here. They’d go shopping or to the bar after work. Then they got upset with each other over something. I have no idea what. They weren’t really friends when Marjory died. There’s not much else I can tell you. I did most of my talking with Marjory by phone or email. I don’t get together after work with the help as a rule.”
    The help. That’s rich. “I wonder if I could get a photocopy of Marjory’s record.”
    â€œIs it important?”
    â€œIt might be. I won’t know until I’ve finished all the interviews.”
    â€œThen you’re welcome to it. I can’t see her filing an objection anytime soon.”
    â€œNo, I’d say her complaining days are all but over,” I said.

CHAPTER TEN
    W hen I returned to my car, I glanced through the papers that Sally had given me. They included the address Marjory had when she first moved to town. Before she got her claws into Brian. It was time to find someone who knew more about her past.
    I started the car and headed toward the south end of the city. It was a fifteen-minute drive. I used the time to think about what angle to take with people in the building. Should I be a police officer or pretend to be a friend from Marjory’s past? Which would get me more information?
    The apartment building was four stories—brown brick, late seventies. The balconies were rusted iron. The front door and windows were original to the building. Marjory had lived on the second floor. I got in easily enough. The front-door lock was broken, and the door opened when I pulled the handle. I climbed the stairs to the second and looked around. Marjory’s apartment had been the one at the end of the hall. The apartment next to it had a wreath of faded plastic flowers on the door. I took this as a good sign that the tenant had lived there a while.
    The woman who answered my knock was white-haired and tiny like a bird. “Can I help you, dear?” she asked.
    â€œI’m looking for a woman I think lives next to you. Her name is Marjory White. She doesn’t appear to be home.”
    â€œGoodness. She hasn’t lived there in over a year.” The woman’s smile