Free Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell by MC Beaton

afraid of losing her looks. I felt – oh, I don’t know – that she had a craving for excitement. Now, having an affair with James perhaps was her way of making herself feel like a desirable woman. She may have behaved in the same way with other women’s husbands, but I don’t know if she did. She probably enjoyed the power and excitement of an adulterous relationship.’
    ‘We’ve just been to see the present Mrs Sheppard,’ said Agatha. ‘Funny little woman who dresses like a child.’
    ‘Quite attractive, in fact,’ murmured Charles, and Agatha threw him a filthy look.
    ‘I was not aware he had married again. But then, I did not know him. Mrs Sheppard moved to this village after her divorce from him. Is there any news of James?’
    Agatha shook her head. ‘And I find that very odd. Particularly because of his cancer. You would think he would show up at some hospital somewhere.’
    Charles delicately licked a piece of jammy scone from his fingertips. ‘I think we’d better go to Mircester, Aggie, and see that husband. May I use your bathroom first?’
    ‘You know where it is? Down the corridor and on your right.’
    When he had left, Mrs Bloxby looked seriously at Agatha. ‘Have you considered, Mrs Raisin, that you have been under a great deal of stress lately? That perhaps if you went away on holiday and tried to relax, it might be better for you?’
    ‘Why?’ asked Agatha, surprised. ‘You know I’ve got to find out about this murder. Apart from anything, James is still the prime suspect. I’ve got to keep asking questions.’
    Mrs Bloxby wanted to say that she feared Agatha might find out more about James than she wanted to hear, but she said, ‘Just be careful. You have put yourself in danger before.’
    ‘I’ll be careful. I wish you could meet the present Mrs Sheppard. I didn’t like her at all.’
    ‘Did Sir Charles?’
    ‘Oh, him! He was all over her like a rash.’
    ‘Oh, well.’
    ‘I am not jealous of her,’ snapped Agatha. ‘I do not care what woman Charles fancies.’
    ‘If you say so. Ah, here is Sir Charles. Can I expect you at our ladies’ society meeting tomorrow night, Mrs Raisin?’
    ‘I suppose so,’ muttered Agatha, wishing she had never joined in the first place. She had only signed up when she had first arrived in the village as part of playing some sort of role as a villager, like trying to bake and going to church.
    ‘I wonder if they’ve bugged your phone,’ said Charles, as they headed towards Mircester.
    ‘Would they do that?’
    ‘Seems likely. I mean, they’ll be hoping he’ll get in contact with you.’
    ‘I don’t like that idea. Charles, do you really think James is dead?’
    ‘No. If James was dead, we’d have had a report by now. He can’t hide away forever. And when he comes back, you’ll need to face up to the fact that you should never have married him.’
    ‘We were working things out. It would have worked out. He’ll need nursing, taking care of.’
    ‘I can’t see you as a ministering angel, Aggie.’
    ‘Then you’ve never been in love.’
    ‘I think you fell in love with a dream James who does not exist.’
    ‘I am not a fanciful person!’
    ‘I think you are, under that crusty exterior.’
    ‘Shut up and drive, Charles.’
    They completed the rest of the journey in silence.
    ‘I wonder if he’s handsome,’ said Agatha as she walked across the main car park with Charles.
    ‘Luke Sheppard? You mean because Melissa was an attractive woman?’
    ‘If you like stringy, faded blondes and itsy-bitsy little middle-aged women who dress like schoolgirls.’
    ‘Late thirties isn’t middle-aged these days. If it is, you’re ancient, Aggie.’
    A tear rolled down Agatha’s cheek and she gave a choked sob. ‘Here, now!’ said Charles, alarmed, handing her a handkerchief as Agatha attempted to brush the tear away on her blouse sleeve. ‘You’re falling apart. Do you want to go somewhere for a drink? Something to eat? We’ve