The Wife of a Lesser Man (LA Cops Series Book 1) (8 page)

Certain days of the week Sarah had a chosen jewellery designer hired to work in the back with either new orders or repairs. 

“Hey Trouble.  Is it getting busier in here?”

“Somewhat, but we’ll have more traffic tomorrow when Dan, the art man, is in.  So, let’s have a look at this bracelet.”  Sarah said, motioning to the file Mark placed on the display counter.

Mark opened it and pulled the copy of the picture out of the file.  Sarah examined it.  “This is just a run of the mill Swarovski.  You can buy it at any jewellery or gift store.  It’s not even that old.  Like two or three years I’d say.”  She handed it back to Mark.  He grimaced. 

“Damn.  I was hoping it would be something we could trace.”

Sarah stared blankly at him for a second.  “There wasn’t any evidence at all?  No fibres or fingerprints or anything?”

“Nothing.  The guy or person must have only ever been in her house when she was killed.”

Vera motioned to Sarah to join them when she had a second.  Sarah lifted her up index finger, indicating she’d be there in a minute.  Mark put the picture back in the file. 

“Thanks for your help.  Talk to you later,” he said and saluted Vera on his way out.

Chapter 8

An idea sprang into his head as Mark ate his sandwich while speed dialling Charlie’s office. 

“Charlie!”  Mark said, his voice exuberant, with his phone on speaker.

“Hey there Chief!  How’s it going?  You’re awfully chipper,” Charlie observed.  It was then that Mark remembered he was supposed to chew out Charlie for his team missing the hidden picture at the victim’s house.  It occurred to him that Charlie also missed the boat on the idea Mark had; he wondered why Charlie hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“Listen.  Is Karen Reed’s place still cordoned off?” he asked, lowering his key slightly.

“Yup.  Sure is.  Toxicology hasn’t finished with her yet so until then the yellow tape remains.”  Charlie paused.  “Something on your mind?” he asked with caution.

“As a matter of fact.  Um, was her vacuum checked?” 

“Uh, I don’t think so. What do you mean? To see if it was working?”

“No.  For hairs, objects, evidential matter.”  Mark shook his head.  “We don’t usually do that.  Most of that is usually contaminated,” Charlie answered matter of factly.

“Well, her house was spotless and if she’s anything like my wife she doesn’t clean her vacuum often.  It’s worth checking out I think.” Mark paused.  “I can head over there now if you’d like.  It’s on my way.” 

“Um, sure.  I can meet you there.  Nelson is due to be relieved anyway.”

“See you then.”

…

Mark pulled up to Karen Reed’s house and saw Charlie’s van parked there.  Part of him wished they could make the ‘Crime Scene Investigators’ getup a little less conspicuous.  The van was the same as an ambulance or paramedic but with a big blue band around the centre and giant white lettering saying ‘CSI’ with smaller lettering underneath saying ‘Crime Scene Investigation’.  ‘
All that for a vacuum cleaner bag
’ Mark thought to himself.  Why Charlie couldn’t just bring the tackle box with all the evidence collection equipment was beyond him.

Charlie exited the van and shook Mark’s hand.  “Hey, thanks for coming,” Mark said out of habit, regretting it the moment he did.  Why Charlie’s crew had missed the boat twice now was something he needed to pursue.  He needed the best investigative team possible and hated the thought of moving people around within the precinct.  Especially given that Charlie, the head of forensics, had been in power for so long.  He was disappointed that he hadn’t taken it upon himself to make changes.

“After you.”  Charlie motioned to Mark to go on.  While Nelson stood at the door, holding it open.

“Afternoon Nelson,” Mark said.  Nelson tipped his hat and then did the same to Charlie.

“You can head back to the office son,” Charlie said.

“Sure thing, Sir,” Nelson said and once again tipped his hat and then walked towards his car.

Mark noticed the smell had gotten slightly worse.  “This place needs to be cleared out bad.  The neighbours are going to start complaining; we might have the Environmental Protection Agency coming in soon if it’s not looked after.” 

“Can we get a rush on toxicology?”  Mark asked.

“Um, they should be just about finished.  I’ll follow up.”  Charlie pulled out his cell phone and went back outside.

Mark looked around.  ‘
Think like a woman
’.  He said to himself.  ‘
Where would I put a vacuum cleaner?
’  He opened the hallway closet door.  ‘
Bingo
!’  The vacuum cleaner was a newer model similar to Shelley’s except it wasn’t an upright but a canister style.  The button release for the canister hadn’t even been dusted for finger prints.  He shook his head.

Charlie re-entered with his tackle box and a small tool box and handed Mark a pair of rubber gloves.  “Toxicology will be done by the end of the day.  The lab will have everything they need by then.  We’ll just be waiting for the results after.” 

Mark shook his head again, but not to approve.  Instead, he was nodding in disappointment.  Charlie picked up on the expression and became nervous.

“Charlie, tell me.  What’s going on around here?”  Mark looked directly into Charlie’s eyes not in admonishment but with concern.  Charlie mirrored his expression and waited for Mark to finish.

“You’ve had the best team in the city for well over ten years.  But I have to say I’m worried.”  Charlie looked down at the floor and shifted his weight from his heels to his toes in a rocking motion.

“I don’t think I have to tell you why.  You’ve been in this business for longer than I and you know the mistakes that have been made.”  Mark paused, giving Charlie a chance to respond.

Charlie stood still, took a deep breath and looked up at Mark as though he’d just lost his best friend.  “It’s my fault.  I’ve fallen behind.  My guys are playing cat and mouse with each other and I can’t let anyone go because I don’t have the manpower or time to hire and train.”

“Who dropped the ball?”  Mark asked, sensing there was more to the story than Charlie was sharing.  Charlie once again looked down at the floor and shifted his weight.

“Charlie.”  Mark said, inviting him to make eye contact again.  “We’ve been friends for many years.  There isn’t anything you can tell me that would change that.”

Charlie looked up at him.  Mark could see his reflection in Charlie’s eyes.  Charlie swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Madeline’s got cancer.”

Madeline and Charlie had been married for over twenty five years.  They had two kids together and now had six grandchildren.  Madeline hosted many benefit parties for causes close to the precinct’s heart in the past and was the first person to volunteer if there were any missing persons reports released or an amber alert for a missing child. 

Mark suddenly felt a mountain of guilt for having such negative thoughts about him.  Charlie had been one of the most responsible, reliable and hard working employees since he’d been Chief.  He had never so much as taken unplanned day off and was always motivated when he worked with Mark.  Madeline’s cancer would clearly explain the slip ups. 

Mark’s head tilted in despair.  “Oh Jesus.  I’m sorry.  I had no idea.  Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Madeline’s scared and doesn’t want anyone except family to know.”  He looked down and gathered his thoughts for a moment.  Mark sensed he was trying to keep it together. 

“Listen, Charlie,” Mark said, resting his hand on Charlie’s shoulder.  “I believe in you.  You’ve never been a guy to mess around.  I know you’ll do the right thing.”  Charlie nodded, still looking at the floor.  “Let me help you, okay?  If you need manpower just say the word.”

Charlie looked up.  “Are you sure?”

Mark beamed at him.  “Sure, we can shuffle and send a temp or two over for now.  After we crack this case we’ll look at a permanent solution.”

Charlie shook his head.  “You know, I’m kind of embarrassed. I knew you would be supportive and I tried to explain it to Madeline.  I didn’t want to burden her with work troubles under the circumstances.”

“Madeline’s a sweet girl.  I’ll be sure to keep her in my prayers.” 

“In the meantime, we have a vacuum cleaner that may have something to say about Karen Reed’s murder.  Hand me that screwdriver, will you?”  Mark said, putting his rubber gloves on.

Chapter 9

Shelley grabbed a quick bite to eat at five.  Sarah sent her a couple encouraging text messages in the meantime, pumping her up for yoga class later.  Her response after the first ten messages was: ‘I thought you were having a busy day?  Stop texting me and work dammit!! Lol’.  The yoga bag was sitting in the bottom of Shelley’s side of the closet as usual.  As she bent over to pick it up her cell phone whined and vibrated across the bed.  It was Mark ‘Sorry, gonna be really late tonight.  Don’t wait up.’  Her response was ‘No problem.  Yoga night….with Sarah!’

She placed her cell phone in the side pocket of the yoga bag and her exercise clothing and gear into the large pocket and zipped it up.  Looking down at her clothing, she realized she needed to change out of her housecleaning clothes before leaving.  There was a noticeable hole in the upper part of her shirt; it was the same worn out shirt that Mark had given her as an anniversary gift.  Remembering how he reacted the last time she wore it in front of him, she stood in front of her dressing mirror and touched the hole. 

You could almost clearly see her breasts through the shirt and now part of her nipple poked out if she bent down slightly.  Her hand went up inside the shirt and she stuck her finger through the hole to determine if it was too large to be mended.  When her finger touched her nipple, the warmth made it harden.  The sensation caused Shelley to close her eyes for a moment.  Thoughts began running through her mind of the many times she and Mark made love.  It had been so long.  Her hands began caressing her breasts, remembering how it felt when Mark did this.  She moaned quietly with pleasure. 

She pulled her shirt off and the rest of her clothes as she continued to reminisce about her seemingly absent sex life.  As she lay on the bed, her heart pumped rapidly in long lost pleasure.  When Shelley climaxed, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever have an orgasm with Mark ever again.  The thought saddened her and she grasped the covers from Mark’s side of the bed.  She took his pillow and held it in her arms.  His scent remained there from the previous night.  Her face was enveloped in the soft, woody scent of his cologne and the softness that lay next to his own face each night.

For a moment Shelley thought
why am I sad?  Mark wasn’t taken from me; he’s still here.  I should be thankful for that.  We can still spend the rest of our lives together and this dry spell could be only temporary.
  She swallowed and peered over at the picture of her and Mark on their wedding day sitting on the night stand. 
But what if it’s not temporary?  What if we can never make love again? 

The shirt was puddled on the floor with the rest of her dirty housecleaning clothes.  She took the wad of soiled laundry and threw it in the garbage bin next to the bed. 

…

Sarah pulled up to the recreation centre first.  There was no sign of Shelley yet.  Her cell phone wasn’t flashing so there were no new messages.  She took a sip out of her water bottle and turned up the volume on the radio.  People were coming and leaving the centre in a constant flow.  Both families and single men and women of all ages entered and exited.  This was entertainment for her given her line of work; there it was impolite to stare.  Her line of sight was from the second row of cars; she was lucky enough to get a spot close to the entrance.  Good things always came to those who waited and she had sat idling at the front curb for a few minutes, waiting to follow someone to their car; a trick she had learned after many years of parking in the downtown area.

As she navigated through the radio stations, she looked up and saw the most handsome man.  He was tall and slender with dark brown wavy hair cut eighties style like Patrick Swayze.  He had blue green eyes and a cleft chin.  His jacket was slightly open and his hair was still damp from either his workout or a shower afterward.  The workout bag that he carried was large and shaped like a tennis racket.  Sarah watched him like a puma awaiting her prey.  He walked right behind her car and she watched him from her rear view mirror.  His ass was very shapely and round, like she could grab it in her hand easily.  The bag shifted to his right hand and he grabbed his keys out of his pocket, pulled them out and proceeded to open the trunk of his car…..right beside hers.