Merry Market Murder(45)

There were no forks under the table and the spaces were mostly empty, emphasizing that her partial move was well on its way. I was suddenly excited about the reality of having Mamma around Bailey’s more often. I was friendly with almost everyone at my market, but Linda and I had become very good friends. Linda would welcome Mamma, too. A mental picture of the three of us formed in my mind: me in my overalls, Linda in her pioneer garb, and Mamma with her cleavage. We’d make a fun trio, I mused silently. I slipped a reminder to the back of my mind to ask Allison where she’d placed Mamma’s stall.

“Here he comes now,” Mamma said as she appeared next to me. “Addy’s been around a long time. He knows everything about everybody, though he might not give up the information easily.”

Addy was my overalled bald twin with the strange eyes. He was stepping quickly in our direction.

“Mamma, how are you today?” he asked as they hugged over the front table. It was purely a friendly hug. I was continually surprised by Mamma’s ability to make friends with men and somehow keep it simply friendly. She was knock-out gorgeous with a perfect body, topped off by the cleavage I’d just been thinking about, but once most men got to know her and knew she was in a committed relationship, those men were able to keep their eyes up and their hands to themselves, at least as far as I’d seen.

“Great. Addy, this is my friend Becca Robins. She’s from the Bailey’s market.”

Addy smiled and shook my hand. “We sort of met earlier.”

“I didn’t ask Addy for details, but I did ask him about someone named Evelyn who sold eggs,” I said to Mamma.

“Oh, well, I think Becca has a more in-depth question regarding Evie. Becca’s a good friend, Addy, but we both understand if you don’t want to gossip about our fellow vendor.”

“What’s the question?”

I looked around again, feeling silly about my need to know, but not silly enough to miss the opportunity.

“Addy, any chance Evie is Evelyn Rasmussen Stuckey? Maybe she was a state senator back in the eighties?”

Addy blinked his crazy eyes. I tried not to stare, tried not to count until he blinked again.

“I don’t know all the details, but I do know her last name is Rasmussen. She doesn’t tell anyone, but I overheard her on the phone one day. I wasn’t eavesdropping, really I wasn’t. I just happened to hear her and I filed the information away. What else do you know?”

I told Mamma and Addy what I’d learned about the former senator and that she had at one time been married to a man who’d recently been murdered. Both of them were fascinated by the story, but unfortunately Addy had nothing else to contribute. I thought he had more questions for me, but he was called off to attend to something else, his quick departure reminding me of Allison’s continual pull from many different directions.

“Is he a new manager?” I said.

“No, he just helps out Jack, the market’s main manager. Addy can get you whatever you or your stall might need. He’s been wonderful.”

“His eyes are . . .”

Mamma laughed. “You get used to them, but they are kind of different.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Becca, just go talk to her. She’s surly but she won’t hurt you. I don’t think.” Mamma’s eyebrows came together. “No, she won’t hurt anyone. I don’t think she has in all the years I’ve been here, and if Jack thought she was dangerous, he wouldn’t let her stay. I don’t think.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Your confidence is inspiring.”

“You’ll be fine. The worst she can do is tell you to go away, though I doubt she’d use pleasant words.”

“I’ll take that challenge.”

Mamma pointed me in the right direction. I set off down the main aisle and then took the second, narrower offshoot aisle and wove my way around a small curve.

And there she was. She didn’t look evil at all. She was smiling, maybe laughing, as she read something on a notebook she was holding.

Evie didn’t resemble the pictures of the dynamic Evelyn I’d seen online, except that her long, crossed legs meant she was probably tall. Evie had short, silver-gray hair, thick glasses, and an age spot–covered face. If she truly was Evelyn, she was only in her early fifties, but she looked much older. I couldn’t help but silently compare her to the other early-fifties woman I’d recently met. Stephanie Frugit looked as though she’d found a fountain of youth compared to Evie. As Evie laughed, she didn’t look the least bit unpleasant, but her demeanor changed quickly when she noticed I was smiling in her direction. Her smile flipped into a frown and her previously endearing age spots sagged heavily as her eyes squinted unhappily.