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

Page 8

by Sandy Appleyard


  “Yes, we do.”

  “She had a tough life, you know? Really sweet girl though, considering.”

  “Tell me about her family.”

  “Um, she grew up with her mom and dad and her sister. Karen moved when she went to University and that’s when her sister starting getting into drugs. It’s kind of ironic really. Karen moved out of a small town, and her sister started living the life that her mother suspected Karen would live, seeing as she lived in the entertainment district.”

  “So where’s her sister now?”

  Monica sighed. “I have no idea. After Karen married her sister became kind of a drifter. She went away to New York for a while and got a job there but Karen only heard from her maybe once or twice a year.”

  “When was the last time you spoke to Karen?” Mark asked, sensing he’d beaten around the bush long enough and she was providing information they already had.

  Monica paused, “I…I think it was a couple of months ago. We used to talk almost every day after Eddie died. It was really hard on her“ She looked off to the side and swallowed. Her eyebrows furrowed and her face became flush. Mark could see the tears forming in her eyes. She looked down and waved her head from side to side, “I’m sorry,” she whispered, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her thumbs.

  Mark sat upright and passed her the box of tissues on his desk.

  “That’s alright. I know it’s hard. Take your time, there’s no rush.” She reached for a tissue and held it in her hand.

  “I’m just so angry,” Monica said, her voice was rational and even.

  “She didn’t deserve this. She was a good person. Just through grieving and she had so much going for her.“

  “Nobody deserves this type of treatment, Ms. Sutherland,” Mark said in the same comforting tone. “What happened to Karen was terrible and we are going to do everything we can to find the person who did it. But we do need your help.”

  Monica looked up at Mark. Her mouth was half open and tears were streaming down her face. “I’ll do anything. She was my best friend and I know that poor woman suffered…I she suffered more than anyone else.” When she said ‘anyone’, her hand struck the desk for emphasis. “Do you know that Eddie was her first love?” She looked directly at Mark like he was to answer her; her head cocked to the side. “She married her first love and they were so happy together, so incredibly happy. And then he died. How cruel is that?”

  Then both her fists met her face. “God at least she could have gone with him. Then she wouldn’t have had to die like this.” She looked at Mark as if he was supposed to have the answer.

  She evoked an endearing innocence in the way she spoke of her friend. It was as though Monica was a mother figure to Karen. He passed her another tissue.

  “When did the communication between you stop?”

  Monica wiped her eyes. Her tears had washed away her mascara. Her eyelids were red and puffy and her face was pale and flushed. “After Eddie died, if we didn’t see each other every day we spoke on the phone. That went on for a couple of years. Then she started seeing a therapist and her independence returned.” She fiddled with the balled up tissues on her lap. “We began going to movies and dancing and then she started working and started socializing with friends she met there. She really was getting her life back; working out and feeling good about herself again. She called me often enough, but she wasn’t calling me crying every day anymore.” Mark nodded and maintained eye contact. “Then all of a sudden it was like a switch.” She paused and her cell phone beeped, which she ignored.

  “So you said this was about a month or two ago?” Mark asked, looking at her and then at her purse, which beeped again. She continued to ignore it.

  “It was about two months ago. I called to see if there was anything wrong and she sounded totally fine. To me it was a good sign. She was spreading her wings again.”

  “Did she meet someone perhaps?” Mark asked, sensing she would eventually have to answer the phone.

  “I asked her and she said she had but didn’t want to say anything fearing she may jinx herself.” Finally, Monica stuck her hand in her purse after the sixth ring and looked at the screen. She pushed a button and silenced the phone. Then she placed it back in her handbag.

  “Did she ever tell you about him?”

  “Not much.”

  “What about a name or a description?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  Monica looked off to the side for a moment, as if in deep thought. She quickly took in a breath and put her index finger to her cheek. “She changed her hair color. Yeah. She was dirty blonde and she changed it to this burnt red color.” She looked at Mark and chewed the top of her index finger nail. He waited.

  “Was there anything else unusual you noticed?” he asked with his hand outstretched.

  She furrowed her brows and looked off to the side again, pausing to think. Her eyes turned back to him and she pointed at him, speaking louder. “Yes; a bracelet. I mean, it wasn’t unusual for her to buy a piece of jewellery, but she was weird about wearing it.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She felt uncomfortable wearing it in public. It was like she felt like she was wearing a ten carat diamond ring to go grocery shopping or something.”

  “Did you get a look at the bracelet?” He asked, retrieving the picture out of the file in his desk drawer.

  “Yeah, it was gorgeous but simple. Something you could wear anywhere.” Mark showed her the picture and pointed to the bracelet. “Is that it?”

  Monica looked closely and nodded her head in confirmation. “Yes. Yes it is.” she smiled at the picture as though Karen was looking at her. She took a deep breath and blinked, trying to ward off further tears.

  “And then after that she just stopped calling?” Mark asked, placing the file back in the drawer. Monica took a moment to think and then nodded yes. Monica suddenly sat upright and said, “I’m sorry. I really have to go. That was a client.” She nodded in the direction of her handbag. “They want to put an offer on the house I just walked them through.” Her head was cocked to the side apologetically.

  “Oh that’s fine. I appreciate your coming in.” Mark rose from his chair with her and offered his hand to shake again. She put her balled up tissues in her left hand so she could shake with her right. As she picked up her handbag she said, “Please feel free to call me with anything further.”

  Mark smiled. “We’ll be in touch.”

  …

  “Your car or mine?” Sarah asked as they approached the parking lot.

  Shelley shrugged her shoulders. Uh oh she thought, this is bad.

  “I tell you what. Why don’t we drive your car to your house and then take mine to get drinks?” Sarah offered, sensing Shelley would likely need more than one drink.

  They arrived at the bar fifteen minutes later and Sarah immediately ordered two white wines.

  It was a tiny bar just inside a local mall, walking distance from Shelley and Mark’s house. They often went there after seeing a movie since the biggest IMAX theatre was also located inside the mall.

  Shelley appeared distracted, peering at everyone except Sarah. When the waitress brought the drinks over, Shelley took a long sip, nearly emptying the glass. The tension was palpable.

  Sarah cocked her head to the side. “What’s going on with you? You seem really on edge.”

  Shelley ran her finger around the wine glass and licked her lips slowly. She hesitated a moment before speaking. “It’s not you. I’m sorry for behaving as I did earlier.” Her hand touched Sarah’s.

  Sarah half laughed. “You are too passive aggressive my dear. If I did something to piss you off then let’s have it. You’re allowed to be mad at people sometimes.” Sarah placed her hand over her heart. “Especially me. Hell, I’m surprised you don’t walk away from me some days with my abrasive personality.”

  Shelley smiled and shook her head, “God, we need more wine.” Sarah laughed and raised her hand
to get the waitress’s attention. She held up her index and middle finger to indicate they wanted two more drinks.

  “We should have taken a cab,” Sarah remarked as the waitress brought the drinks and placed them beside the other glasses.

  Shelley downed the last of her first glass and placed the empty glass on the waitress’s platter. When she swallowed she crossed her eyes for a second and Sarah laughed.

  “Good, well, it can’t be all that bad if you’re already laughing,” Sarah said, taking another sip.

  Shelley sighed and nodded, “It’s Mark and me.”

  Sarah looked incredulously at Shelley, lifting herself up for emphasis. “You mean there is trouble in paradise? Finally? After all these years??”

  Shelley gently smacked Sarah on the cheek. “Smartass. Now I am pissed at you.” She laughed.

  “Come on. You guys have been married how many years? Not to mention you’ve both just been through a major traumatic event. It was bound to happen.”

  “No, no. You’re not allowed to minimize this. We do have a major problem.” Shelley’s hand was outstretched and she pumped it as if she was trying to push an imaginary glass away.

  “Okay, what is it?”

  Shelley hesitated and closed her eyes with her head cocked, as if she had something stuck in her ear. “Mark and I haven’t had sex since his heart attack.”

  Sarah frowned and nodded. “Well that would be kind of expected. Isn’t the medication causing that? I thought he wouldn’t even be allowed to have sex after that.”

  Shelley laughed maniacally. “So you think freaking out is irrational? Or unreasonable?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just meant that you shouldn’t worry.” Sarah looked at Shelley, wondering where she was going with this.

  “And why not? I mean, it‘s easy for you to say. You’re still single. You can have sex whenever you want. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mark with all my heart and I would die for him, but I’m so scared.” Her hand went to her mouth and she grasped Sarah’s hand with the other.

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you.” Shelley squeezed Sarah’s hand.

  Sarah half laughed. “That’s okay. Why are you being so apologetic? I’m your best friend and if I can’t be your punching bag once in a while then what am I good for?”

  “What exactly are you scared of?” Sarah asked, letting go of Shelley’s hand.

  “I know it sounds terrible because I should be so thankful that Mark is still with me. But…I miss him. I miss his touch and the way he used to look at me. We used to make love at least a couple times a week, more when we were younger. Before his heart attack we used to have quickies even at lunch time or whenever we felt the need. He was so passionate and very ready and able to go. I never needed to ask.” She took a sip of wine.

  “Well give it some time. I’m sure he’ll come around soon.”

  “You’re right. I know. But I don’t know why I’m worrying so much. I mean, it’s not like we’re twenty anymore,” Shelley said, half laughing and waving her head from side to side.

  Sarah looked directly at her, “Shelley. You’re allowed to feel. Being afraid and worrying is perfectly natural. Freaking out under the circumstances is okay. You held it together miraculously when Mark had his heart attack. You were bound to lose it some time.” She paused. “I’m just curious. What exactly made you freak out during yoga? Was it really because I was talking to Michael?” She took another sip.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you were right about me being jealous. It is true that you can have sex whenever you want. I guess it made me realize that with Mark I can’t feel that way anymore.”

  Sarah smiled and patted Shelley on the hand. “Don’t kid yourself honey. Remember: I’m not twenty any more either.”

  Shelley guffawed. “Yeah, but you can still get hotties like Michael whenever you want.”

  Sarah waved off her comment. “Yeah, but look at that hottie that was checking you out!”

  Shelley waved off Sarah’s comment. “I was just looking at his tattoo.”

  “What was that anyway? A lion?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah. It’s his astrological sign. He’s a Leo.”

  Sarah lifted her eyebrows, swaying her hips from side to side and commented in a sultry voice, “I wonder if he goes in like a lion and out like a lamb.”

  …

  “I don’t need your help. I’m fine.” Shelley slurred. It was half past ten and they had spent the previous two and a half hours drinking and dancing at the bar. A half hour after they arrived, the music was turned up and the dance floor flooded.

  “Oh yes you do.” Sarah insisted. She noticed all the lights were turned off and Mark’s car was parked in the garage.

  “My goodness girl, you sure don’t hold your booze like you used to.” Shelley sarcastically burped in response to her comment.

  “I should’ve taken you for coffee before bringing you home like this. Mark will have my head tomorrow.” Sarah seethed, supporting Shelley’s weight with her arm around her shoulder. “Maybe I should just take you into one of the girls’ rooms instead of putting you in with Mark?” She asked, watching a dollop of spittle trail down Shelley’s face.

  “Oh no, Mark loves it when I’m drunk! I let all my inhib…inhibish….”

  “Inhibitions?” Sarah ventured.

  “Yeah, what you said. I throw those all out the window.” Shelley’s arms flailed about, miming throwing something to her right. She lost grip on her purse and it fell to the ground. Shelley’s keys fell out.

  “There is a God.” Sarah remarked, picking them up and leaning Shelley against the door jam.

  She put the key in the hole and opened the door as Shelley leaned in and lost her footing, flopping to the tiled flooring below. Sarah fell to her knees. “Jesus, are you okay?” she said, helping her up.

  Shelley seemed to sober a little, feeling the pain in her hip. She rose with Sarah’s help and rubbed her outer thigh. “I’m going to feel that in the morning.”

  “I’m guessing a headache is all you’ll be feeling in the morning. Let me get you some water.” Sarah offered, closing the door behind her. Shelley followed her over to the kitchen and sat down in one of the chairs.

  “Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to stay with you?” Sarah asked, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it under the tap. As she handed it to her, she answered, “No, I think I’ll be okay after I have some water and maybe a piece of toast.”

  Sarah nodded and opened up the loaf of bread sitting on the counter. She put a piece in the toaster and turned it on.

  They heard footsteps and looked at Mark, standing in the kitchen doorway in his pajamas and bathrobe. He rubbed his eyes and said, “What are you guys up to? Did somebody fall?” Then he saw Shelley’s red rimmed and rather unfocused eyes. “Shelley? Are you drunk?” He put his hand on her face and directed it to his.

  She swallowed. “I was. But after I fell I think it knocked the drunk out of me.” He furrowed his brows and looked up at Sarah who was leaning with her back against the kitchen counter.

  “Where did you guys go? I thought you went to yoga.”

  “We did. Then we went to that bar in the mall.”

  He directed his gaze back at Shelley. “Are you okay? It’s not like you to drink like that….especially when you’ve gotta work the next day.”

  Shelley nodded. “I need to go to bed”.

  “Don’t you want your toast?” Sarah called.

  Shelley waved her hand behind her and kept walking up the stairs.

  Mark watched her until she reached the top of the stairs, then he turned his gaze to Sarah. “What’s going on?” He asked, taking the toast out of the oven and reaching for the butter. Sarah saw him and gently slapped his hand. She looked at him and waved her index finger in front of her face, signalling that was a no-no. Opening the fridge and reaching for the non-hydrogenated margarine she answered, “She’s fine. Us women freak out sometimes in our old a
ge I guess.” She smirked, handing him the margarine.

  He spread the margarine and took a bite. With his mouth full, he wiped his lip with his finger and said, “Come on Sarah, this is me. I know my wife’s behaviour and this isn’t normal. Is she worrying about me? About the kids? Am I working too many hours again? What’s the deal? It’s obviously bothering her and she doesn’t want to tell me about it.” He swallowed, waiting for her to answer.

  “You’ll have to talk to her about it. I don’t meddle….well, at least not with people I like.” She pulled a piece of toast off the bottom and placed it in her mouth.

  Mark finished the last of the toast and swallowed, satisfied with her response. “Do you want to stay? I think Shelley made up both the girls’ rooms.”

  She brushed her hands off. “No, I’m fine. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, but thanks.” She kissed him on the cheek and he followed her out to the front door.

  “Thanks for being a good friend. You’re a gem.”

  “That’s what my colleagues tell me.” She raised both her hands in the air and shrugged her shoulders. “See ya.” She waved and Mark closed the door behind her.

  Mark stood at the door for a moment, looking at the ceiling. He tried to envision what Shelley was doing upstairs. He didn’t hear anything, so he figured she’d probably passed out with her clothes still on. He wouldn’t wake her and undress her if she had. She was still wearing her casual outfit anyhow.

  As he headed up the stairs, he noticed the light was still on. When he entered the bedroom, there she was, laying naked on the bed with her arms outstretched above her; like she wanted to be handcuffed to the head board.

  “What’s this?” He asked, standing above her head, pulling her arms down so they rested beside her.

  “Well…..I think I might be still a little drunk…..and I know I’m horny baby.” She licked her index finger and slowly began a trail between her legs. Mark stopped her hand.

  “Shelley stop.” He said gently. She took his hand and directed it down to her breast. When his hand rested on her breast, he hesitated. His gaze met hers and for a moment he thought he felt desire. With his thumb and index finger he rounded her nipple and it hardened in response. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, savouring his touch. Mark followed his natural urge to lick and suck her breasts, and as he did, she put her hand down his pyjama pants and felt for his penis. It was still flaccid so she began kneading it seductively and groaned in response.

 

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