The Second Mouse - Archer Mayor [86]
Lillian Kimbell tightened her lips before saying slowly, “There was always some tension.”
Joe thought back to his one visit to the Morgan house on Gage Street, and to the disparity between the grubby TV set-chair combo and the rest of the room, jammed with delicate figurines and kitschy bric-a-brac, all dust free and neatly arranged. Tension, indeed.
“How about you, Ms. Kimbell? How did you feel about Michelle?”
Her expressionless eyes settled on his for a long, measured moment while she appeared to weigh her options. Joe considered the possible reasons behind her taking back her maiden name and hoped that one of them might play in his favor now.
“I liked her,” she finally said, adding, “right up to the end.”
He tried tipping her a little further. “Your husband wouldn’t like hearing that.”
“Screw him.”
It was said softly, almost tentatively, but Joe burst out laughing anyhow, creating the happiest expression he’d seen on her yet.
“That must’ve been tough on you,” he said then, “being so at odds with Newell.”
“I’m always at odds with him,” she said, this time bitterly. “First with Archie, then with Michelle. Now with everything.”
“Is that why the name change?”
She nodded without comment.
He paused before suggesting vaguely, “The thing with Michelle really did something, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” The word was said so quietly, it almost vanished in the hum of the overhead lighting.
“Marked an end?”
“I guess it did.”
“Are you going to leave him?”
She hesitated before admitting, “That’s not what women like me are supposed to do.”
“But you’re thinking of it.” He said it as a statement.
“I guess so, yes.”
Now that he had her on the threshold, he tried opening the door wider. “Why?”
The potential was there for her to close down and ask him to leave. She’d never met him before, he’d been asking strange questions, and the entire point of the interview remained as unclear as ever. And yet, not only had she kept pace with him, not challenging the reasons behind his visit, but she seemed to be warming to the age-old comfort of confiding to total strangers what you’d hesitate to tell your closest friend.
It clearly wasn’t easy for her. Joe watched as his business card was unconsciously reduced to a small lump between her kneading fingers. She studied the tabletop, forming her thoughts, before she finally said, “Something happened—changed.”
“Between you and Newell, or him and Michelle?” Joe asked pointedly.
“Both. All of it. He got so angry.”
“At her?”
“Yes. It was more than the money. We’re not that bad with the money. There’s enough.”
Joe leaned forward, suddenly tense, fearful that now would be the very moment when a coworker would come barging in and destroy the mood. “Ms. Kimbell, I hate to pry here. This is all so terribly personal. But it means a great deal to me to really understand exactly what happened. Did you ever think your husband’s fury at Michelle might have been for another reason? I don’t want to be insensitive here, but I also don’t want to tiptoe around—do you think he might’ve made a pass at her?”
To his relief, she took it in full stride. “I wondered that. If he did, I don’t think it worked.”
“Is that why you said you liked her up to the end?”
She nodded. “Like you said, she always loved Archie. So did I. I’ll always feel in my bones that it was Newell who killed Archie.”
Joe was comfortable with the assumption that she wasn’t being literal—that the father’s harshness had merely driven the son to drink and an early grave. It was a startling one-liner, though, given what he suspected Newell had done to Michelle.
“Did Newell go out to see her after Archie’s death?” he asked, keeping on track.
He knew he shouldn’t have been so unreasonably hopeful, but he was still disappointed when she looked up at the white acoustic ceiling and gave a hapless shrug. “I’m here most of the time. I barely noticed when he went on a trip with his buddies a while ago.”
“How ’bout right after she died?” Joe persisted. “How did he react?”
She