Before Bill could respond, Thatcher said, “It isn’t right. But neither is a brutal, fatal assault. What Sheriff Amos is trying to do is find out who did it. The more information you give him, the better chance he has of catching the man and seeing him punished.”
Patsy’s chest caved in a little. Her hostility cooled. As she thought over what Thatcher had said, she picked at the loose stitching on the handbag in her lap. “Norma had been carrying on an affair with Dr. Gabe Driscoll.”
She looked at Bill and Thatcher in turn. He wondered if she noted that neither was surprised to hear this.
Bill asked, “For how long?”
“Close to a year.”
“Where did they rendezvous?”
“He always came to the house. Or did. He hasn’t been there since the night his wife disappeared. Norma wasn’t happy about not seeing him.”
“Up until Mrs. Driscoll’s disappearance, how often did they meet?”
“Two or three times a week. He would come by while he was out making rural calls. But he isn’t Arthur’s father. Norma was already pregnant when she met him. She only passed the baby off as his to reel him in. She set her sights and went after him.”
Watching her closely, Bill tugged at the corner of his mustache. “Did they conspire to get rid of Mrs. Driscoll?”
“I don’t think Norma had anything to do with it.”
“Mrs. Kemp—”
“I’ll tell you why,” she said, cutting Bill off. “Norma didn’t consider Gabe’s missus competition. She had convinced herself that Gabe would ultimately choose her and Arthur over ‘that fat German cow,’ as she called her.
“She had big plans for Gabe to move her and Arthur into that large, pretty house. As his wife, she would become a society maven. I told her she was delusional. But I also saw how besotted Gabe was with her.” She shrugged. “Maybe he gave in to her impatience.”
“Gabe claims to have been at your house twice on the day his wife went missing. Once in the afternoon, once late that night.”
“He was, but not to help with Arthur’s breech birth, because Arthur was already a month old. Gabe came that afternoon. He held the baby for half an hour and spent another thirty minutes in the bedroom with Norma. They were lovey-dovey. She begged him to stay longer and was pouty when he left.
“When he came back that night, it was a different story. He was frantic. I mean berserk. Batshit crazy. I had to deal with him myself because Norma was out.”
“Out where?”
Thatcher could tell she was reluctant to answer, but finally she did. “There was someone else. Before Gabe, and the whole time she was with him.”
“The baby’s father?”
“That would be my guess, but I don’t know. It was a very secretive affair. She always went to him. She was with him that evening of Mrs. Driscoll’s disappearance. When she got back home, Gabe was there, but he was too distraught even to ask where she’d been.”
“What time did she get home?”
“Midnight or better. Honestly, I believe Gabe is rather thick. She smelled of sex. He’s a doctor, right?” She snorted with derision. “Arthur was a hefty newborn. Any fool could see he was too big to be six weeks early, as Norma claimed. But Gabe never raised a question about his size or seemed to doubt that he was the father. In my opinion he’s a loser.”
Bill said, “But you covered his lie about the breech birth.”
“I did, yes. Norma insisted that we back him up, for Arthur’s sake, she said.”
“Did Gabe kill his wife, Mrs. Kemp?”
“I swear to you I don’t know.”
“Did you ever question Norma about the convenient timing of Mrs. Driscoll’s disappearance?”
“No,” she replied in her wheezy smoker’s voice, “I didn’t want to know the answer.”
Bill sighed. “When two people share a secret like that, it tends to erode the relationship, whether it’s between siblings, husband and wife, illicit lovers. If it turns out that Gabe Driscoll assaulted your sister today—”