Page 17 of Little Merry Murder

“I suppose you want to speak with my wife about Owen and the affair they’ve been having,” he said.

Right to the point.

I liked this guy.

“I … yes. How did you?—”

“Know? When Nadia found out Claire died, she confessed she’d been having an affair. She thought it was news to me. It wasn’t.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since it started. It was little things, like her coming and going at odd hours, at times when I knew she didn’t take clients. She told me some of her work hours had changed, but I didn’t believe it. Went to the gym one day when she was supposed to be working, and she wasn’t there.”

“If you knew about the affair, why keep quiet?”

“This might be hard for anyone to believe, but we’ve known each other since we were kids. Lived next door to each other. I’ve loved her all my life. I’d do anything for her. I’m sure she wouldn’t like me sharing this, but it isn’t the first time she’s cheated. I’m away a lot. Sometimes for long stretches. She gets lonely, and sometimes that loneliness leads to a lapse in judgment. Thing is, she always comes back to me, and if you can believe it, our marriage has become stronger because of it.”

Ididn’tbelieve it at all.

But he was convincing.

Imight not have believed it, but it seemed like he did.

“Have you ever spoken to Owen?” I asked.

“Once. Went to his construction site, and we took a walk. Thought about roughing him up, but I decided it wasn’t worth it. Not to mention, he seemed like the kind of guy who would run straight to the police, and I don’t need that kind of heat.”

“Has the affair ended?”

“She told me it was over.”

As I wondered whether what they’d told him was true, a car turned into the driveway and a woman got out. He looked at the woman and then at me, saying, “I suppose I should leave the two of you two talk.”

I supposed he was right.

CHAPTER 11

I met Nadia just as she was closing her car door. When I explained who I was and why I was there, she scrunched her face, displeased. I assumed she was also displeased to drive up and see me speaking to her husband. For a moment, she said nothing, and I thought she was going to refuse to talk to me. Then she opened the back door of the car, grabbed her coat, and threw it on, suggesting we go for a walk.

After we’d rounded the corner, she looked at me and said, “I heard Owen’s mother hired you.”

News spread fast around this place.

“Are you two still seeing each other?” I asked.

“We’re talking, not sleeping together, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I wasn’timplyinganything. Does your husband know the two of you are still in communication?”

“If he does, he hasn’t asked me about it.”

Hemay not have wanted to ask about it, but I did.

“Why are you still in contact with Owen?”

She gave me a snarky look, as if the reason should be obvious to me, which it wasn’t.

“The guy just lost his wife,” she said.

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