The Wife of a Lesser Man (LA Cops Series Book 1)

by Sandy Appleyard

  “No problem. I almost did that at the morgue.”

  Richard laughed under his breath as Mark opened the door and entered.

  He went straight to the bedroom. The jewellery and trinket box were just as Richard had told him. Mark opened the jewellery box and to his surprise it was nearly empty. In the top portion there were three small cushions lined up like logs lengthwise to hold rings. There sat her wedding band in between two of the cushions. In the small compartment in front was a simple silver bangle and a large safety pin. He opened the drawer underneath and found nothing but an old movie stub and a packet of mints. The side openings were empty. She wasn’t into necklaces, he thought.

  Next, Mark took the overflowing trinket box and dumped it out onto the bed. There were about ten pairs of mismatched earrings in varying styles from stud to dangling, another watch and a set of small nail clippers. He looked up, strummed his fingers against his chin in thought and stood up. Beside the dresser was a three tier wood shelving unit which held a number of hard cover books, some pictures in frames and a bunch of photo albums. He quickly perused the framed photos and found a few wedding photographs, a picture of Karen and what appeared to be her mom and a vintage picture of a childhood dog.

  He sighed, picked up one of the photo albums, sat down on the bed and opened it. The album consisted of wedding pictures, so many that he lost interest after the second page. He scanned the rest of the albums and found one that looked kind of interesting in that it was fat and had lots of paper hanging out of it. Once he picked it up, a piece of paper immediately fell out. When he leaned down to retrieve it, he saw something poking out from the small gap between the dresser and the carpet.

  “See something interesting?” Richard asked.

  “Yeah, see if you can find me a pair of tweezers.” Mark answered, looking behind the dresser, noticing the change in nap thickness behind; you could see a clear line where the dresser had been moved.

  “Found them in the master bath,” Richard said, handing him the tweezers with his rubber gloves on. “You better put these on, too,” Richard added, handing him a pair of gloves. ”Charlie gets wind we were in here at all without them we’re up shit’s creek.”

  Mark grunted as he made his way down on his hands and knees. He carefully pulled the object out from the bottom of the dresser. It was a picture. “Looks like Charlie’s crew missed something.” Mark commented in a sly voice, holding the picture up with a knowing look on his face.

  …

  Mark yawned as he sat upright in bed, propped up with pillows and checking his emails on his laptop.

  “Tired babe?” Shelley asked, turning the page of her romance novel, also propped up in bed.

  As he exhaled he answered, “Yeah, a bit.” He swallowed and laughed, shaking his head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You should have seen the look on Richard’s face today when we went into the morgue.”

  Shelley smiled, “Oh no, poor guy.” Then she grimaced.

  “Yeah, not nearly as bad as Nelson though, he tossed his cookies today.”

  “Are you serious? Man, how do you get off having such a cast iron stomach?” Shelley put down her book and looked directly at him.

  Mark nodded and typed something on his computer, “I really couldn’t tell you. I’m the only one who’s had a heart attack though. Not sure what that means.” Then he paused and looked at Shelley, “Lisa’s online and is asking if it’s too late to call…..is it okay with you?”

  “Sure, shall I give you some privacy?”

  “Not necessary, but I’m not sure you want to hear some of this stuff. It’s to do with a murder.” He answered, typing his response to Lisa. Shelley nodded and rose, “I’ll go empty the dishwasher.” The second she arrived downstairs the phone rang.

  “Hey Lisa, what’ve you got?” Mark said warmly.

  “Well, the only relative willing to talk to us is her mother. She lives in Peterborough. That’s where she grew up. Father’s dead. Her sister lives in the States but is estranged; she’s a cokehead and all her ex in-laws live in Europe, but it looks like they’ve disowned her after her and hubby divorced.” She waited.

  “You got contact information for mom?” Mark asked.

  “Yup. I have some numbers for the ex in-laws anyhow, but phone records haven’t shown any conversations in the last year.”

  “Okay. Put the phone records on my desk; I’ll look at them in the morning. Set up an appointment for me or Andy to interview the mom over the phone tomorrow.” Mark paused for a moment and then Lisa interrupted. “Richard tells me you guys found a picture or something at her house. Charlie’s really embarrassed about that. Just fyi.”

  “Yeah, well, whoever was in charge of detail there slept through the job; the photo albums weren’t even touched. When this case is closed, Charlie and I need to have a conversation or two about his crew,” Mark said matter-of-factly.

  “Did she have a cell phone?” Mark asked.

  “Yup, but it was one of them pay-as-you-go deals, so there’s a better chance of me sprouting a new leg than there is of getting records for that.” Lisa snorted.

  “See what you can dig up. Find out how long she had it; maybe she only got it recently and there’s another one on a plan that she had previously.” Mark shrugged.

  “On it.”

  “Thanks Lisa…..say hi to Richard for me, eh? Oh, and, by the way, he likes bacon and eggs for breakfast,” Mark joked.

  “And you guys say women have big mouths,” Lisa scoffed as she hung up the phone. Mark giggled and nodded as he heard the click on Lisa’s end.

  …

  Mark walked into the office and saw Richard sitting with Lisa. They were both at her desk; Lisa in her desk chair and Richard pulled the extra chair out of Mark’s office and sat beside her. They were looking through a file together. It was seven forty five. “Don’t you people have lives?” He asked incredulously. “It’s Saturday morning of a long weekend. What the hell are you two doing here?”

  They both looked up with blank, exhausted and unfocused eyes. “We’ve been here all night.” Mark grinned devilishly. Richard put his hand out as if to stay ‘stop.’ “We’ve been combing through Karen Reed’s phone records. Don’t get excited.” Richard stated flatly.

  Mark walked into his office, hung his jacket over the back of the chair and wheeled it over, next to Richard. As he sat down, he asked, “So, anything good?”

  “Not really,” Lisa said, “But we did find the number to a friend of hers. She called several times at the beginning of the year. The calls petered out about three months ago,”

  Richard yawned. “We looked it up and the number is registered to a Monica Sutherland. Local.” He showed Mark the slip of paper that he wrote the information on. Mark looked at it and took a paper clip from Lisa’s desk; he attached it to the top of the first page of phone records.

  “Anything else noteworthy? Any luck getting a hold of her mother?” Mark asked, rising from the chair.

  “There’s been a few calls made to her employer, I guess calling in sick or late. She was a child and youth worker for the city. Some calls to a hairdresser and dentist, a few to her doctor, but nothing unusual,” Lisa answered, frowning. Mark sensed the disappointment.

  “Something’ll turn up. It has to. Clean murders like this are never easy; whoever did this had to make a mistake somewhere, we just have to find it.”

  Lisa nodded and yawned simultaneously. “Why don’t you guys go home and sleep. Don’t come back until Tuesday morning. I’ll call if something pops up.”

  Lisa rose, stopped, and snapped her fingers, “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Karen’s mom…..um, Martha Masterson, she’s gone away this weekend but is expected back late Monday night. We can expect her call probably Tuesday some time.”

  “Who answered the phone?” Mark asked.

  “She lives with her sister in Peterborough. Husband lives in a nursing home. He had a stroke. Her sister was real nice, her nam
e is Katherine Welland,” Lisa answered, shrugging on her jacket.

  The phone in Mark’s office began to ring. He picked up his pace until he reached the phone and cleared his throat. “Chief Tame speaking,” he answered.

  “Mornin’ Chief, Bob here,” the coroner said.

  “Hey Bob, how are you?”

  “Good. Um…I tried to get a mold on those wrist markings?” He cleared his throat and continued, “But I wasn’t able to get anything viable. They weren’t deep enough to hold the plaster; I wasn’t sure but I tried anyhow.” He cleared his throat again.

  “That’s okay Bob, if my suspicions are correct, I think I have something to go on. But thanks for trying.” Mark said, smiling. Bob and Mark had a strange relationship. When Bob was working on the bodies with his Metallica cranked up, nothing could phase him. Mark knew Bob was nervous around him but had always been that way. It wasn’t just because he was the Chief of Police. Mark never would have suspected this until one Christmas party about five years ago when Bob got completely plastered and told him. His slurred, but exact words were “I hang around dead people all day, but you scare me.”

  “Um, yeah, no problem….H…Happy Thanksgiving.” Bob hung up before Mark could return the sentiment.

  Mark screwed up his face and said in the chipmunk voice he used to use on his kids when they were little, “You’re the nuttiest.”

  When he hung up the phone, he noticed Andy unexpectedly standing in the doorway to his office. “Bob?” Andy said with a knowing look. “Yeah.” Mark laughed. Andy nodded with a slight grin on his face.

  “Feeling better?” He asked, referring to the hangover Andy had the previous day.

  “Yeah. But in my defence my wife looked worse than me; she couldn’t even make it to work yesterday. At least I hauled my ass here.” Andy’s thumbs were pointing to his chest as if to say “Me, this guy.”

  “What’re you doing here anyway?” Andy asked.

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Mark answered.

  “I just came from the morgue.” Andy shuddered a little.

  “Oh, well that explains the call I just got from Bob then.”

  Andy laughed. “I tell you whenever I show up at that place the guy never looks at me and barely talks to me.” Mark tried not to smile.

  “You know he got drunk at that Christmas party five years ago and told me I scare him?” Andy pointed at himself and nodded in disbelief.

  “I think all the living scare Bob,” Mark said matter-of-factly.

  Andy finished nodding and said, “You know he couldn’t get a viable mold from the wrist marks then.”

  “Yeah, but I think I found something that will help us,” Mark said.

  “The picture?” Andy asked.

  “Yep.” Mark answered as he pulled it out of the file sitting on his desk and showed him.

  The picture was of Karen Reed sitting on a bench in an outdoor area, maybe a park. She was facing right, as if she was looking for something or someone. She was wearing a short sleeve white shirt and dark navy jeans. Her legs were crossed in front of her and the picture looked candid, like she didn’t know it was being taken. There, affixed to her right wrist was an exquisite navy and faux diamond encrusted bracelet. The links on the bracelet were about an inch in diameter and took the shape of tear drops. The links were an alternating white and blue pattern.

  Andy studied the picture. “Pretty.” He commented. Karen was young looking for being in her forties. She had shoulder length reddish/brownish wavy hair and green eyes. Her features were petite and she was tall and slender. There was a Julia Roberts-ish look to her. “But I don’t get it. Do you think that’s the bracelet the killer took from her?”

  “It’s a hunch, but there were no other bracelets I could see in her bedroom,” Mark answered.

  “She might have borrowed it,” Andy said half to himself.

  “Possibly. Her mother should be calling next week. Hopefully she’ll be able to shed some light,” Mark said. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question?” Andy looked up from the picture.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Mark laughed.

  Andy shrunk back behind the picture and answered, growling “I hate family functions.”

  Mark laughed and his shoulders bobbed up and down.

  “I’d rather eat turkey with Bob,” Andy added.

  Mark started to howl, while Andy eventually broke out into laughter.

  Chapter 6

  Mark arrived home. Charles, Mark’s dad, greeted him at the door.

  “How’s the ticker, son?” he asked, embracing Mark but adding a heavy pat on the back.

  “Good, yours?” Mark asked, laughing. “Never better.” Charles answered levelly, offering to take Mark’s jacket and hat.

  “Do you like turkey, son?” Charles asked.

  “I hope so. It seems that’s all I’ve been allowed to eat in the last couple weeks. Well, that and tofu….nasty stuff,” Mark said, scrunching his nose as he closed the door.

  Charles chuckled. “You have to work any more this weekend?” Then, before Mark could answer, his father’s face lit up. “How’s that Karen Reed murder going? They haven’t given much coverage on the news.” His hand went to his chin.

  “Yeah, we’ve placed a media ban on it until we have a suspect,” Mark answered.

  “Got anybody in mind yet?”

  “No, not yet. But we’re interviewing some of Karen’s family next week, so hopefully we’ll have something to go on.”

  Charles nodded. “She was quite a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Such a shame.”

  Mark also nodded.

  “Looked a little like Shelley, didn’t she?” Charles added. Mark looked up at the ceiling. He’d never thought about that. “Yeah, I guess she does.” Mark shuddered slightly.

  “Richard should be here soon,” Mark said.

  Mark heard the doorbell. “Ah, speak of the devil.”

  “Richard, how are you today? My son’s not keeping you too busy is he?” Charles greeted him as he shook Richard’s hand.

  “No, no complaints.” Richard smiled, returning the handshake.

  “Pulled an all nighter last night though,” Richard commented as he let go of Charles’ hand.

  “Really?” Charles said, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, he and Lisa decided to get a leg up on the Reed murder and reviewed all the phone records for me. The two of them this morning looked worse than poor Andy did hung over yesterday morning.”

  “Hey, where’s Jessica’s friend? We haven’t seen her yet.” Mark said.

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much. Louise is about as boring as watching the turkey bake. All she can ever talk about is school and her stupid dog. She goes on and on about this dumb mutt that she couldn’t bring with her to school. I bet the dog is more interesting than she is,” she said, stealing a cracker from Richard’s hand.

  “Where is she now?” Mark asked.

  “Upstairs…probably studying or getting a leg up on her finals…which are like two months away.”

  “She’s too shy to come downstairs?” Richard asked.

  “Yeah. I don’t even know why she came. Except that her parents can’t afford to fly her home until Christmas. Her dad’s some kind of salesman and her mother doesn’t work. Bunch of dead beats. She doesn’t interact with adults much, but she loves Jess….and me.” She shuddered.

  “Did she at least say hello to your mom?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah, but like under her breath, and then she tore upstairs like a scared rabbit. She has no idea how to interact with humans.”

  “Is there any chance she’s related to Bob?” Richard laughed.

  “Good luck asking her.” Jennifer laughed.

  “Is she making fun of that sweet little Louise again?” Shelley asked, entering the kitchen with an empty platter.

  Mark intervened, “She just finished,” he said flatly.
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br />   “How are you doing good looking?” Shelley asked while Mark quickly pecked her on the cheek.

  “I’m wonderful, but even more so since you entered the room,” he answered with a warm smile.

  “Oh…don’t you guys start up with that shit again,” Sarah commented as she entered the kitchen, carrying another empty platter.

  “Jealous?” Richard asked sarcastically as he took the platter from her as he did with Shelley.

  “I hope not. You’ve got some competition now,” Mark intervened, winking.

  Richard’s face turned beet red.

  “Oh, leave him alone, you bully. It figures you would have to embarrass the poor guy when he hasn’t been here ten minutes.” Shelley said, smacking Mark gently on the back of his head.

  “It’s the least I could do, seeing as he didn’t even bring you a present,” Mark said.

  “Alright, alright. Speaking of presents. Let’s break up this banter with some gifts, shall we?” Shelley said.

  “Hey girls! You wanna come down and join us? Mom’s about to open up gifts!” Mark yelled as he walked past the stairway.

  A moment later Jessica came down, followed by Louise, a tall, dark haired girl.

  “Okay, whoever gave the worst gift, hand it to me first….so the bar is lowered.” Shelley said, sipping her coffee. Shelley’s mom was sitting beside her, where she had been since she arrived. She looked over at her daughter and said, “What about the year your father bought you the multi-tool? You remember that?”

  Shelley laughed, “I use it when Mark’s not home and I have to unscrew the caps off our water bottles.”

  Richard looked at Shelley, “Sure, you have a” and he air quoted ‘multi-tool’ “that you use when your husband’s not home.” and laughed.

  Shelley’s face turned beet red. “Just for that, I’ll open your gift first! Smartass!”

  Richard handed her an envelope. Her face lit up when she opened it and saw a handful of tickets for the musical ‘Rock of Ages’.

  “So who are you taking?” Her mother asked, having snuck a peek. “That depends on what you got me.” Shelley joked.