Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 105, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 640 & 641, March 1995

He shook his head. “Ma’am, there’s something I don’t understand. Your husband left you for Cindy Clarke. And yet you were concerned about her. You asked us to make sure we let her know what happened. Can you explain that to me?”

Sarah frowned. “I’m not sure what you want me to explain. I assume she loved him, or thought she did. He’d probably given her enough reason to think he felt the same way about her. He was good at that, making a woman feel like she was important to him. The only thing is, it never lasted. I knew that, but Cindy Clarke didn’t.”

She caught Kentucky studying her again. She didn’t quite understand the look on his face. It wasn’t Player’s puzzlement she saw there. He just seemed thoughtful.

“I just felt sorry for her,” she said, looking back at Player. “You see, she had nothing to do with Jim’s leaving me. That was Jim.”

She glanced at Kentucky. The lines around his gray eyes were more pronounced than earlier. It was late. She was tired. He must be, too. The younger man was still wound up. He had listened hard to what she had said, as though it were some complicated equation she was explaining.

“Ma’am, I hear what you’re saying. But I can’t imagine any women I know not wanting to claw each other’s eyes out in a situation like this.”

Sarah smiled. “Maybe you just watch more TV than I do.”

“Could be,” he said and smiled. “By the way, Cindy Clarke asked me to tell you she was sorry.”

Sarah took a deep breath and swallowed hard, holding back the threat of tears. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said. “The only thing I can say is Jim always seemed to pick nice women.”

They left soon after that, saying they would be in touch with her in the morning. She locked the door, returned to the living room, and stood there for a moment, looking around. The room felt empty. She turned on the radio again.

She was exhausted, but there were things she had to think about. She couldn’t go to bed yet. Where would the detectives go with their investigation? She imagined how long it might go on, and all the people they would want to question. One person would lead to another. She shrank at the thought of it. Cranford was a small town. How would she be able to stand the scrutiny, all the innuendo? And what about Valerie?

She went to the desk and took the pad from the drawer and tore off the top sheet. She stood there looking at the names she had written. There was one she hadn’t put down, even though it belonged there. So many of Jim’s love affairs had involved women she had known, and liked. Some had been her friends, whom he’d set about seducing.

With Valerie it had been different. Sarah had hardly known her. Val had lived in Saybrook then. They’d met briefly in the half-day orientation class for volunteers at Middle County Hospital, but afterwards they were assigned to different days. Sarah might never have known about Jim’s involvement with her if it hadn’t been for the books on pottery he had brought home. The one thing Sarah knew about Valerie was that she was an accomplished potter.

A few months after that, Sarah found herself sitting next to Valerie in the hospital van. They’d been asked to accompany Elvira Morris, a sweet, elderly woman, in her transfer to a nursing home.

If it hadn’t been for the pink volunteer jacket Valerie was wearing, Sarah would hardly have known her, and would have mistaken her for a patient. She was drawn and hollow-eyed. Sarah didn’t even have to guess at the cause. She knew. Jim had moved oh.

Fortunately she and Valerie had Mrs. Morris to deal with that day. The poor woman had been in the hospital two months, and was confused by having to move. Her closest family was a son living on the West Coast. The nursing home had suggested the move would be less traumatic for Mrs. Morris if someone she knew accompanied her to the home. As it turned out, Sarah and Valerie were her two favorite volunteers.

It was six months before Sarah saw Valerie again. But during that time she learned that the director of volunteers had noticed how bad Valerie looked, and had taken her under her wing and seen to it that Valerie got some counseling. Word was that Valerie was on the mend.

Then Sarah received a note from Mrs. Morris’s son. He was coming East for his mother’s eighty-fifth birthday and was having a small party. He hoped that Sarah could come.

Sarah went. Valerie was there. After that, they began visiting Mrs. Morris together. It was on their drives to the nursing home that Sarah began talking about wanting to start a small business.