Merry Market Murder(75)

“Well, I felt so awful about my thoughts about Evie that I tried to talk to her, be friendly, you know.”

“How’d that go?”

“At first she was pretty snippy, but I hung in there and soon enough we started chatting in a more civilized tone.” Mamma cringed but recovered quickly. “I kind of pride myself on being open-minded and friendly, Becca. It takes an open mind to look at me and not see a floozy, I know that. I look the way I want to look. I assume that other people do the same. But I think I forgot myself with Evie. She’s cantankerous and grumpy, but once we sat together and really talked, I realized that she’s probably just a lonely old woman who could use a friend or two. Well, anyway, enough of my shame.” Mamma sighed. “She actually started opening up about her past. I had to push her. I had Addy fill me in on what he knew and I . . . well, I asked her some direct questions.”

“I bet she either disliked or respected those direct questions.”

Mamma smiled and nodded. “She respected them, just not immediately.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, she divorced Reggie because he had an affair.”

I didn’t want to ruin her excitement by telling her I already had the news she thought was new so I just said, “I wondered. Did she tell you a name, by chance?”

Mamma shook her head. “It’s why she left politics, though. She was embarrassed and knew that Reggie’s indiscretion would be used against her, or she thought it would.”

“Back then it probably would have,” I said.

“Maybe, but I think there’s more. I think Evie, Evelyn, was proud of her position, proud of her marriage—maybe too proud. She couldn’t handle being seen as imperfect. I really think that had more to do with it,” Mamma said. “It was all about her ego.”

I thought about it and then nodded. I wasn’t much for psychology, but Mamma’s words made sense. Lots of people in lots of different professions, politicians included, were frequently driven by ego.

“So,” Mamma continued, “here’s something else that surprised me. Evie said that before her ex-husband was killed, she and he had started talking again. He’d called her out of the blue and she’d wondered why. Well, he was friendly for a while, but then he told her that he’d recently started seeing the woman again, the woman he had the affair with all those years ago. Evie was under the impression that Reggie was seeking her approval.”

“Let me guess, she didn’t approve,” I said.

“Not at all.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“She said it . . . what was the word she used? Riled? Yes, it riled her feathers—not ruffled—something fierce. Even after all these years, it upset her. She didn’t like that it upset her.”

That was a long time to hold a grudge, but infidelity wasn’t ever easily forgiven.

“Did she get upset while she was talking to you?” I asked.

“Yes, and . . . well, this is rotten of me, but now I have to tell on her.”

“Tell on her?”

“Yes, the day you all found Reggie? Well, Evie didn’t come in to the market that entire day. She always comes in to the market. It’s what she does, all she does as far as I can tell. Addy was worried about her, I remember.”

“There could have been a good reason,” I said as I tried to imagine Evie stabbing Reggie with a tree spike. It wasn’t all that difficult to picture.

“Yes, there could have been, but she said one more thing that got my attention. She said that she’s ‘going back to Monson tonight, to visit the tree parade.’ She said ‘back,’ so I asked her when she’d last been to Monson, and she quit talking.”

“Interesting.” It was, but I wasn’t sure it meant much of anything.

“I thought so, too, particularly if her last visit was the day Reggie was killed. Anyway, I stopped by the police station but Sam wasn’t there and I don’t really know any of the other officers. Your house is on my way to Carl’s, so I stopped. I hope it’s okay that I was walking around.”

“Of course,” I said. Mamma didn’t need to know she might have prompted me to finally improve my currently nonexistent security system.

“Good. I gotta go, but it’s the last thing that Evie told me that probably kept me from telling the other officers. Sam . . . well, Sam’s a friend, and I knew he wouldn’t think it was weird, but even though Evie wouldn’t tell me who the affair was with, she did tell me what the woman looked like.”

“And?”

“Me. She looked like me—according to Evie, pretty, blonde, with a big bosom—and I’m quoting that last part. I’d just say ‘boobs.’”