Shelley was prepared to be patient and pull out all the stops for him. She knew getting him over this wouldn’t be easy but she was willing to do whatever it took to gain back some of her sex life. She smiled thinking how happy she would be having all of Mark back, even if they were reduced to simple lovemaking on an irregular basis. Anything was better than nothing for an unknown amount of time. Her hand continued working on his flaccid penis when she decided to change tack.
Sitting up on the headboard, she motioned for him to have a turn lying down. She teased his chest with her tongue and lips. When she reached his penis with her mouth, he once again stopped her.
He sighed and wiped his face with his hands, motioning down to his penis. “This isn’t working.” He said, sitting up. “I’m sorry, but as you can see, nothing’s happening.” Shelley detected a hint of frustration in his voice. “That’s okay sweetie, let me have a go at it.” She gently pushed him back down on the pillow. Mark closed his eyes and let her take over. But to no avail. Five minutes later, while the experience was pleasurable, his body failed to respond.
Mark’s hand stroked Shelley’s hair, letting her know it was over. She rested her head down on his thighs and looked up at him. “Maybe we just need more time,” she said, rubbing his stomach. He nodded without looking directly at her. “I…I know it’s been a while. And I know you have needs,” Mark said hesitantly. “I know we’ve never done this before, but maybe I can just please you?”
Shelley suddenly felt like the whole world had just been restored with one sentence. She raised her head and looked at him like he had just said they won the lottery. “Yes! Oh my god yes! Please!” She nodded emphatically. As he rose to get into position, she put her hand on his chest. “Can you just give me a moment? I did have a lot to drink today...” She nodded toward the bathroom.
“Be my guest.” He raised his hand, motioning her to the door.
Shelley jumped up and danced to the bathroom. The hallway was still lit but in her haste she stubbed her toe on the bathroom door jam. “Damn!” She cried out. “Are you okay?” Mark called. “Yeah, just stubbed my damn toe!” The baby toe was bleeding and the nail tore slightly at the end. The nail clippers were at the very back of the medicine cabinet, so she had to remove all the assorted pill bottles, nail polishes, Q-tip containers and makeup blocking the way. Once she clipped the stray piece of nail away, she washed up the blood with some peroxide and located the band aids in the bottom cabinet, among another jungle of assorted products; this time tampon boxes and toilet paper rolls. Then she realized she really had to pee badly so she abandoned all the mess on the floor.
When she returned to the bedroom, Mark lay on the pillow with his head turned to the side, asleep. She pursed her lips and if it weren’t for her stubbed toe, she would have kicked the bed. Instead she chided herself for being mad. At least the will was there. She thought to herself, and she turned off the lamp.
Chapter 10
Mark jumped up out of a dead sleep. His arms and head felt like they weighed fifty pounds. He couldn’t remember why he awoke for a second and then suddenly he heard his cell phone squeal. Shelley lay there completely oblivious, likely still sleeping off the buzz from earlier. His feet felt the carpeted floor and he tried to run quickly to catch the phone before it rang again, but his legs wouldn’t carry him fast enough. He was tired. The phone was sitting on the seat of Shelley’s dressing chair, and as he reached it, he could hear her stir. The LED light came on as he opened it up and hit the call button. It was Constable Nelson.
Mark cleared his throat and looked at the clock. It was 3:00 a.m. “Nelson, what’s happened?” He answered, his voice still sounded sleepy.
“S…Sir, there’s been another murder. I just got the call from um…. dispatch a moment ago and it was on my beat.”
“Okay, have you been to the scene yet?”
“Um, yes sir. I’m here now. Dispatch is sending a crew and they told me to contact you.” Mark was perplexed. He felt bad for Nelson; he seemed to be getting all the mundane jobs that anyone could do. Mark heard his other line beep. “Can you hold on a minute? I’ve got another call coming in.” He looked at the screen and changed tack. “Never mind. Nelson I’ll have to let you go.”
“Uh…ok sir, I’ll see you shortly.”
Mark pressed the flash button and he could hear lots of background noise; sirens, voices and shouting. The scene sounded much different, as though Nelson was hiding in the bathroom or in his patrol car while everyone else was on scene.
“Hey Richard, what’s the story?” He looked over at Shelley who was reaching to turn on the lamp, rubbing her eyes and yawning simultaneously.
“Hey buddy, sorry to wake you. I was awake anyway and heard the squawk box. You know I can’t sleep without the damn thing on.” Mark raised his eyebrows; surprised he still did that. He began reaching for a fresh uniform out of the closet, nodding thanks to Shelley for turning on the lamp so he could find his way around. The phone was squished between his ear and shoulder while he pulled on his pants.
“It’s another homicide,” Richard said levelly.
“Oh yeah.” Mark replied when what he really wanted to say was ‘uh oh.’
“Yeah, you better get over here right away. Charlie’s on his way with a crew.”
“Yeah, Nelson told me.”
“It’s another gun shot….close range straight through the head.” There was another blasting of sirens. He allowed the noise to pass before speaking again.
“Jesus,” Mark said under his breath.
“Yeah. It’s a bit early to tell, but my guess is this is serial.”
“Where’s the scene?” Mark asked, anticipating his long days were about to become a lot longer.
“Lisa’s already texted it to you. It shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes to get here. It’s just past the highway on the other side of town. Blake and Ranger.”
“Be there in a jiffy.” Mark hung up the phone and shrugged on his vest. He picked his cap up off Shelley’s dressing table and leaned over to kiss her goodbye.
“Go back to sleep baby. I’ve no idea when I’ll be home.”
“Okay. Love you.” Shelley answered and turned off the lamp as she watched him walk out and close the bedroom door.
…
Mark entered the address into his GPS while the driver side door was still open. He reached into the back seat to grab the cherry and placed it on the roof. The button to activate all his emergency indicators-siren, lights-was stuck. Using the heel of his palm he gave it a swift belt upward and suddenly it looked like a bad Christmas movie in his patrol car. Since it was 3:00 am, he decided to wait until he hit the main street before turning on the sirens. Within ten seconds he was weaving in and out of cars like a pinball.
When he pulled closer to the crime scene, it wasn’t difficult to determine where he needed to be. The pandemonium surrounding the block was unmistakable. The house was located on a small street one block in from the main road. There were people standing on the street, all scattered haphazardly like peppercorns on a bagel. The house hadn’t yet been partitioned off and there were two police cars parked in the driveway, and two on either side of the house. Mark arrived just as Charlie’s crew appeared. He made eye contact and motioned them to park their truck in front of the cruisers at the bottom of the driveway. Mark created a slight barricade by parking sideways in the middle of the street, leaving his cherry flashing.
He spotted two ladies in their robes standing on the lawn, chatting. “Excuse me ladies, but would you mind moving to the sidewalk please?” His voice was gentle but firm as he directed them with his arm in an ‘L’ to the bottom of the driveway to the left of the cruisers. Nelson came up behind him carrying the yellow caution tape.
“Sir, um, I was just about to do that.” Nelson’s voice quivered, his hands were slightly unbalanced and shaky.
“Sure Nelson, you take over.” He patted him on the shoulder and walked towards the front door.
/> Mark tipped his hat and saluted the two officers standing on the other side of the door. The house was a two story, seventies style detached with brown trim and a sun porch that could be viewed from the front of the house. The interior was shallow. There was only one bedroom on the main floor. The living room was to the left of the kitchen, which was right at the entrance. Richard was kneeling in front of the victim.
Her body lay on the couch. Her red hair was sprawled over the top of the cushions like a scarlet blanket. Her body was spread out as though she’d just done a backward dive into a pool. She was sideways with her head on an angle. The couch was a beige tone and it was splattered with blood, which continued to drip on the floor. Her mouth remained open, as though she tried to scream just before the shot hit her square between the eyes, just above her brows.
“Where’s the rest of the gang?” Mark asked as he approached, pulling his slacks up on his thighs and bending down, even with Richard’s face.
“Andy’s out back with Rodrigues, Pascal and Thomas are upstairs and you saw Nelson and the other two already,” he answered without eye contact.
“Good. Charlie’s on his way in, too.”
Richard nodded.
“So, what do we know so far?”
“The neighbours say her name is Jacqueline. She’s a social worker, quiet, boyfriend but no husband, lived here about three years, no kids that anyone’s seen, no troubles reported. Clean, easy going, nice girl.”
Mark nodded. “Where’s the boyfriend?”
“Nobody knows. He comes and goes apparently. Drives a fancy car.”
“What a waste. She can’t be more than forty-forty five. Gorgeous.” Richard commented shaking his head in distaste.
“Any shell casings?”
“Rodrigues looked but couldn’t find any. We’ll see if Charlie’s crew has better luck.”
“Anything else?” Mark asked, scratching his head.
“Yeah. Take a look at this,” Richard said, kneeling down again.
He took Jacqueline’s left hand in his gloved hand and turned it so the inside of her wrist faced them. Mark looked and shook his head.
“All too familiar.” He commented. There was a mark on her wrist identical to the one that he had seen on Karen Reed.
…
Charlie sat on the floor in the master bedroom with his legs folded under him. His crew had been there for hours collecting evidence. It was nearly 9:00 a.m. As he picked up each evidence bag, he would inspect it and sign off on the front of the bag before placing it in the box to be shipped back to the station for testing. He knew he couldn’t let Mark down this time since this case would be handled predominately by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, given that it was now considered a serial murderer committing these crimes.
The evidence bags were small, like little sugar packets, only plastic and re-sealable. He came across a bag that contained a small sample of the victim’s hair, most likely taken from a bathroom hairbrush. As he looked at it, he was reminded of his wife, who had just lost all her hair from chemotherapy. The victim’s hair was deep red, just like Madeline’s. A chill went up his spine as he examined it. Some of it was in a clump, while a small tuft of it lay in a swirl. The ‘C’ shape indicated the victim had somewhat curly hair, again like Madeline’s. Charlie fought the urge to open it and run his finger along it. It would be a long time before he felt his wife’s silky hair again, he thought.
He remembered the day Madeline began losing her hair. It was Charlie’s day off and he was helping her out of the tub. Her body was so weak she had trouble. She had refused to wash her hair, fearing the agitation would trigger shedding. Madeline had always been a woman of respectable vanity, looking her best whenever possible in sensible attire and grooming. Her hair didn’t require much maintenance and therefore a simple brushing with powder spray would suffice. As Charlie helped her apply the spray to the back of her head, he used quick, gentle motions. He watched her grimace. She knew any day she would feel the cold spray directly on her scalp, and would watch her hair fall to the floor.
As he looked at the tiny plastic bag containing Jacqueline’s hair he was reminded of that day not so long ago. Doctor’s said Madeline’s hair would grow back soon and that the chemotherapy seemed to be working. Only time would tell. Charlie was thankful she was well enough to be home; only having to visit the hospital for her treatment, but the whole experience still took its toll. Even with Mark’s knowledge of Madeline’s illness, it still didn’t sit well with Charlie. His rapport with the station and with the community was impeccable. He had a reputation to uphold and was uncomfortable with making excuses for himself. His love for Madeline ran deep. He never loved anyone more in his life. He also loved his job. Charlie had trouble finding the right balance under the circumstances. The guilt he felt was eating at him constantly.
Charlie dated the evidence bag incorrectly and unconsciously chided himself by biting down hard on his lower lip. The pain caused his eyes to water. His vision blurred slightly and as he re-entered the wrong date again he threw the sharpie marker across the room. Just as he did that, Mark and Richard were walking toward the bedroom. They both saw what happened and Mark blocked Richard with his arm, indicating he would deal with it. Richard nodded and went into the bedroom beside them.
“Hey,” Mark said, nodding towards Charlie. He waited for eye contact before continuing. Charlie didn’t look up. Instead he looked off to the side. Mark kneeled down beside him. “You need any help?” He asked, noticing the scratched out date on the evidence bag.
“I’m not good with dates either,” he said. “I’d forget my own birthday if it weren’t for my wife.” Mark chuckled and then caught himself. Damn! He thought; remembering what Charlie was going through with Madeline. He turned his head and blinked like he had something in his eye.
“It’s okay,” Charlie said, recognizing Mark’s admonition. “You don’t have to feel bad for mentioning Shelley.” His voice cracked when he said her name. Mark looked over at Charlie. “Are you okay?” Charlie looked down but nodded, Mark hesitated. “How is Madeline?”
Charlie’s focus went to the evidence bag he was still holding. He unconsciously rubbed it with his gloved hand. “She lost all her hair.”
Mark wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s just hair,” he said. “It’ll grow back.”
Charlie swallowed and took a breath, almost choking. A tear fell down his cheek. He sniffled and drew in a big breath of air, trying to stave off more tears.
“Hey, you could loan her some of yours you know.” Mark said matter-of-factly. Charlie looked at him as if to say ‘what are you talking about?’ Since Charlie kept his hair in a very short crew cut.
“But we’ll have to shave your back first.” Mark smiled and to Charlie it was infectious.
Mark stood up and retrieved the sharpie marker off the floor and offered it to Charlie. “You want to have another go at it?” Charlie took the pen out of Mark’s hand and said, “Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
…
Shelley awoke with a pounding headache. She hadn’t felt that miserable in a long time. Some of the tendons in her legs gave her a vague reminder that she needed to go to Yoga more often. Last night was the first night in a couple weeks since she went. As she rubbed her leg she promised herself to wash and re-pack her things so she could head back tonight. From Mark’s phone conversation she’d overheard earlier, she guessed he would be putting in some hard time, so she wouldn’t need to check with him first.
Piles of toilet paper rolls and assorted paper products greeted her as she entered the bathroom. With a slight groan she bent down to pick them up and placed them back in the cupboard. The band aid she placed on her toe the previous night had stuck to the bathmat. As she tried to get up from her crouched position she let out a gasp of pain.
“Goddammit!!” She yelled. Her hands found the counter and she inched herself up, already weary and the day hadn’t started yet. Her sullen face stared back at her in
the mirror. She was reaching the age when forgetting to put on her night cream was very obvious by morning, especially after a night of drinking and sex. As she inspected the dark circles under her eyes, Shelley scoffed at herself. “What sex?” She asked her reflection. Then as she gave herself a dismissive wave in the mirror, she heard the phone ring. “Oh what now?” she said as she stomped into the bedroom, snatching up the phone without bothering to check the caller ID.
“Hello?” she answered coldly.
“Well well well…..” Sarah said as if to say ‘I told you so.’
Shelley sighed, “Yes I have a headache, no I’m not skipping work and I love you but I’m really not in the mood right now.”
Sarah paused. “Hey, take it easy there tiger. I was just calling to tell you my legs ached and I hoped yours did too. But thanks for asking.”
Shelley scratched her head. “Well, the only way to get past it is to hop back on the horse. I’m going tonight, you wanna join me again? I promise I’ll behave.”
“Oh no. I’m not into it hard core yet love. Besides, hobbling is not very sexy and if Michael’s there, well…..”
“Oh come on. Don’t be a baby. You’ll be fine by tonight.” Shelley persisted.
“I tell you what. I’ll see how my day goes, fair?”
“Alright, fair enough. I gotta go, my bladder’s about to explode and I’m late.” Shelley said, remembering she had a 9:00 am meeting at the school and it was already 8:05am.
“Sure, hey, how did it go last night?”
“I think my mood should tell the tale.”
The Wife of a Lesser Man (LA Cops Series Book 1) Page 9