

THE WIFE OF A LESSER MAN

LA COPS SERIES

Sandy Appleyard

Keep in touch with the author by subscribing.

ISBN 9781482794830

Copyright © 2013 Sandy Appleyard. All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl

Keep in Touch

Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl - Sample

Other Books in the Series

Also by Sandy

Did you Enjoy This Book?
Chapter 1

PRESENT DAY

I stood and listened, waiting to hear anything that would tell me he was alive. I was standing in the vestibule between the waiting room and the emergency room. My ear was pressed up against the metal doors, which left only a small opening so that I could eavesdrop. My hands supported my weight; fingers spread out, knuckles white. My heart was racing, I felt like I would throw up at any second, and an incessant shiver coursed through my body. Yes, people were staring at me. But I was sure no one had just arrived with their husband showing no vital signs.

"Nurse! Get the paddles! We're losing him again!"

"Clear!"

A bang and a strange noise, then silence.

"Again!" "Clear!" The same strange noise and more silence.

My tears began to flow. More people stared at me.

"Excuse me, Ma'am? Maybe you would be more comfortable waiting in the private room?" I heard her voice off in the distance, but I ignored it. I was waiting for the next words from the doctor.

"Ma'am? Mrs. Tame?" I looked at her but her words didn't register.

She put her arm around my shoulder, like we were old high school chums. Her voice was comforting but firm, like when my mother used to know that I was sick and insisted I take my medicine. "Come with me, Mrs. Tame; you'll be more comfortable in another room". She took one step but I didn't follow. My feet stayed firmly planted on the floor.

"Please Ma'am, you shouldn't be here. You need to come with me." Her voice was unrelenting. Her hand grasped my side but I broke free.

"No! You cannot take me away! I need to know!" I was yelling.

"We will update you as soon as we hear anything Ma'am, I promise." Her words became comforting again.

"No! I'm staying right here! My husband is right in there! I'm not leaving this spot until I know!" I yelled, pointing at my feet. My tears and blubbering barely made my words understandable.

The nurse's name tag read "Lilly". She was plump and looked like she could restrain me if I made trouble. Lilly looked around the room, duly noting all the faces staring at me. Her point proven, she attempted once more to remove me from the door. I relented.

As we walked to the 'private room', Lilly picked up a tissue out of a nearby box and handed it to me. The one-ply tissue came apart the second I dabbed my eyes. Thank god I didn't wipe my nose with it. I used the cuff of my jacket for that. The corridor that she led us down was a comforting reminder of the hospital where our kids were born. Jessica was born nineteen years ago, when I was just twenty years old. She was unexpected, or a 'surprise' as everyone called it. Mark and I were not engaged but we were living together and so in love.

Jennifer, our baby, was another 'surprise', born just a year later. The hospital where I gave birth had a unique weave pattern on the wall covering, just like this one. I ran my fingers down it as I walked, feeling the texture. It brought me back to a place where we were all healthy and celebrating new beginnings. I realized just then how much I missed my kids; they were off at college. I was alone. The thought of being alone the rest of my life was terrifying.

I willed myself not to think about it. Mark was still alive; he had to be. He was being pushed too hard down at the station; he was the police chief for his precinct over the last fifteen years and it was finally too much. The doctor had repeatedly warned him that his blood pressure and cholesterol were really high. The cardiologist put him on a strict diet and exercise program and insisted that he reduce his work hours. That was six months ago. But Mark has always been very devoted and loyal, and most of the time he spread himself too thin.

Lilly opened the door to the private room, switched on the light and gestured I should take a seat. There was a comfortable looking three seated couch on one wall, and several other waiting room style chairs along the other walls. Right in the middle of the room stood a large coffee table lined with various magazines ranging from tabloids to medical journals. There was also a phone at the end of the table. Lilly indicated that I was welcome to use that phone if I needed to do so.

I sat on the couch and immediately began chewing my nails.

"Can I get you anything Mrs. Tame?" she asked, taking a small pad and pen out of her pocket.

"Shelley," I offered.

"Sure. Can I call anyone for you Shelley?" She asked, leaning over me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I whispered "Um....no, I, I'm going to call my kids."

She nodded and was about to leave when I quickly raised my head "Just please let me know the minute you have any news of my husband," I begged, unable to stop the tears.

She nodded and closed the door behind her.

For a moment I wished Lilly would return, so I wouldn't be alone. I slowly rubbed my face and ran my fingers through my hair. I found a box of two-ply tissues underneath the coffee table. They give the better tissues to the people who really needed it, I thought to myself. I wiped my face and blew my nose then picked up the phone. My memory failed me; I couldn't remember Jessica's dorm room number. She had just received a new one the other day and I hadn't recorded it in my cell phone. I knew Jennifer couldn't handle what was happening to her father; she had just broken up with her first boyfriend, so I thought it best to wait.

The one number I could recall was Sarah's; my best friend since high school. She introduced Mark and me, and owned a small costume jewellery store downtown. Since it was only eight o'clock and I knew she would still be at the store, I tried her there.

"Good evening Sarah's," she greeted cheerfully.

"It's me," I said, trying to stifle a sniffle.

Sarah's voice turned serious "Hey....is everything okay?"

"No, it's Mark." I began to cry again.

I could hear keys jiggling in the background "Where are you?"

"The hospital....in the private room."

"Jesus Christ. Sit tight, I'm on my way."

If only Mark had used our home library more in the past year, instead of cooping himself up in that office. Speaking from experience, I know that he could never get a moment's peace in there. So many times I would call or even stop by on my way home from work, and he would be bombarded by handfuls of people constantly. It came to a point where I had to stop myself from visiting because it was unfair to him with all the pressure that he was under. He was considered a man of integrity and respect at the station, so nobody ever second guessed him and they always looked to him for direction. Mark was a strong leader at his precinct long before he made chief of police. The look on everyone's faces told me that title was just a formality. He earned his loyalty after the shootout.

God, I'd almost forgotten about that. Mark is such a modest man that he never mentions it. It happened about ten years ago. His name was James Gruber, and he was a convicted rapist and murderer who had served his time and was free on parole. He escaped his parole officer's watch one night and attacked an entire family. It was all over the news. Gruber was in the area of Mark's precinct and so all hands were on deck to catch this monster. The 911 call came from a neighbour who heard screaming at 2am. Based on Gruber's past, Mark knew he would go for the wife first. He was no pedophile, so rather than play Gruber's game; Mark created a diversion and got the wife out first. As the rest of the team got in to free the remaining family, Mark took Gruber head on. Gruber was shot and Mark earned his rightful place shortly after as Chief of Police.

He always took his role very seriously. Sometimes I wonder how he did it. Up until a year ago, Mark had no trouble balancing family and work. Myself, well, my teaching job quickly became permanent part time after the girls were born. My balancing act was never much of a challenge. Our children have always been such a blessing; they never gave us any trouble. There was the expected teenage drama but nothing else. It was easy for me to work part time and still look after the house and the kids. Mark's salary and mine combined led us into what most would call a charmed life.

Was this what my life would be now? Sitting alone in a room without my kids or my husband? My tears began to flow again when the door opened. It was Lilly, with Sarah in tow. Sarah came to me as Lily closed the door and left the room.

I tried to stand but it was more of a stumble since my knees had turned to jelly.

"Oh my god! What happened?" Sarah asked as she hugged me.

"I don't know. I was just on my way home from yoga when he called me." I said, wiping my nose with my hand.

"He sounded weird and said I better come home, that he wasn't feeling well. And you know Mark, he never complains, so I knew it was bad."

"So did you make it home before the ambulance came?"

"Well yeah. I mean I was already almost on our street. He hadn't even called the ambulance yet. When I walked in he was on the floor"

Sarah embraced me tenderly.

"He wanted to call me first before the ambulance. I don't know why. I guess he didn't want me to worry if I got home and saw the scene without knowing. God! Why didn't he just call the ambulance instead of waiting for me?" I stomped my foot in frustration as I let out a large sob.

"Oh sweetie, if he wasn't well, then he probably wasn't thinking clearly. Was he fine when you left for yoga?"

"Well, I didn't see him before that. We spoke earlier and he said he had to work late again so I went straight to yoga after dinner. I didn't wait to see him." I said, thinking how selfish I was. I should have waited to see him before leaving. But how was I to know it might be the last time I would see him coherent?

"Oh honey, honey, don't blame yourself." Sarah rubbed my back and shook her head.

"You are not psychic. You had no idea this was going to happen. You said yourself; Mark never complains."

I nodded.

"So what do the doctors say?"

"I've no idea, I'm still waiting. I...I....kn..know his heart stop-"My sobbing wouldn't allow me to finish my sentence. Sarah took me in her arms once again.

"Do you need to call anyone?" Sarah asked.

I sniffled and dabbed my eyes "Oh God, how am I going to tell the kids?"

"You don't have to do that. That's why I'm here."

"Oh, I can't let you do that. They should hear it from me."

"Well, let's at least wait until we hear something. I mean, either way, you don't want to spread panic."

"You're right. I need some time to compose myself."

Suddenly, Lilly walked in with a blank expression on her face. My heart sank and I felt everything in my body let go. Sarah grabbed my arm before I hit the ground. The world went black.
Chapter 2

JUNE, 1990

Breathlessly he said. "God that was good." He grasped the sheets from under him, and pulled them toward his chest.

"Better than last time?" I asked, finding my favourite post coital spot on his chest.

He looked at me like it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever said to him.

"What? In the shower? You know that's my favourite place."

"Mine too." Our lips touched briefly as he rubbed my back for a moment.

"If I didn't have to rush and shower now, I'd suggest a replay," he said, climbing out of the bed.

"You working late tonight?" I called after him, opening up my dresser drawer, selecting my denim shorts and favourite red tank top.

"I don't think so, but if you thought about dropping by like yesterday, you'd better call first. I've got a meeting just before lunch." The shower was on and I heard the glass enclosure close.

"I've got a meeting at the school today. Preparation for September. It's only five weeks away you know."

I heard the shower door open slightly "So you won't be bringing me a gourmet lunch today?" Looking over, I saw the pout on his lips. Feeling guilty, I got up and sensuously waltzed over to him, still naked, and joined him in the shower. My hands caressed his arms and travelled all the way up to his neck. Our bodies met and we kissed passionately. Unsure if he had sufficient time, I let him lead the way. His hardness told me he would make time.

A few minutes later, he let out a blissful moan and said, "Now THAT was better than last time."

"Does that make up for lunch?"

"Indeed," he commented, grabbing the soap and quickly lathering himself, and then he handed the soap to me.

***

"I don't have time for coffee, love; I'll grab one on the way in." Mark called to me as I was dressing.

"Jesus, do you think they'll make an exception if you're twenty minutes late? You worked so late last night."

"Normally, yes they would, but we're just about to crack a case and all eyes are on me for my input this morning."

"Oh shit! Mark!" I called after him, running down the stairs with my hand in front of my mouth, half laughing.

He looked at me puzzled but noticed my comical expression. "What is it?"

"You left the bathroom window open again," I said with a knowing look.

"Oh shit," he commented, looking out the window to see if our neighbour's car was in the driveway.

"Well, Mabel got another ear full," he said, blushing.

"As if we don't get enough looks from her already. You know she's a Mormon?" I asked.

"Shit. Well, I guess we're demons then, seeing as we're living in sin and all. That explains the garlic she has hanging off her front porch."

I playfully smacked him "Those are tulip bulbs...or decoration. I'm not really sure. I never got close enough to look. She scares me."

"That makes two of us. Better give kisses inside this morning."

"Imagine. You? A big shot cop afraid of little old Mabel," I said, putting my arms around him and kissing him softly.

"I'll have you know it's the quiet little innocent ones that have the cats in the cauldron and their son in laws hanging dead in the basement."

"Remind me never to eat or play cards over at Mabel's," I joked, opening the door for him. Standing next to his car, I watched him drive off, relishing the afterglow I still felt all over. Walking back into the house where we had lived together for more than two years, my hand depressed the door handle and opened it. Suddenly I felt a whoosh and ran straight for the bathroom. My hand went to my mouth as I felt the bile come up from my stomach. Feelings of nausea mixed with confusion entered my head as I knelt and vomited.

***

"So, how was the grind today?" I asked as he entered the door.

"It was good...missed you though."

He kissed me tenderly on the head.

"I was expecting to see you at some point today. The guys didn't get to steal any of my leftovers at lunch time."

"Sorry baby, next time. I told you I had a meeting at the school."

His arms embraced me as I leaned on the stove, waiting for the pasta noodles to boil. I put my arms around him and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"Don't get too used to this. Remember, summer vacation is over in five weeks," I said, as I teased his bottom lip with a finger full of pasta sauce. He playfully opened his mouth and sampled it from my finger, like he had stolen the finger from the child.

"Mmmmm; what is that? Alfredo?"

"Yup. From scratch."

His brows lifted as if to say 'really?'

"It's delicious...the guys will like it too. Did you make lots?" He had taken the spoon from me and was stirring it.

"Tons. I got the recipe from some book for people who prepare meals for armies or something. I didn't realize the yield was for ten people until after I put it all together." I said, eyes rolling.

He laughed. "No complaints here, baby. I'll eat it all week." He said, sampling another spoonful

The plates and forks were being put on the table when I felt another whoosh. One of my mother's expensive plates hit the floor with a smash and broke into a million pieces. I paid no mind as I ran to the bathroom. Mark stood for a moment in shock and concern, and then ran after me. He knelt beside me on the floor and rubbed my back as I vomited up what little food I had actually kept down through the day.

"Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"

My eyes met his with such despair; I did not want to tell him this way. My plan was to serve him up a tantalizing dinner and then ad hoc my way through it after his belly was full and he was all nice and relaxed.

The tears ran down my face, and as he wiped them off with a tissue, he gave me a look that I had never seen before.

"It's nothing that won't go away in about nine months, is it?" His eyes were directly on mine. I nodded; what a dreadful way to find out you're going to be a father, I thought. Sitting on your bathroom tile next to the toilet with your live- in lover, who just vomited all over the place.

"I had a feeling you might be. I didn't notice you indicating the 'p's next to your special days on the calendar last month. We haven't exactly been careful lately, either."

"So you knew? And you weren't freaking out?" I asked as he helped me off the floor and lead me to the couch.

"Of course not. I love you Shelley, you know that." He sat me on the couch and knelt down in front of me with his arms on either side of my body and his eyes on mine.

"And this is what you want? We never talked about having a baby or marriage; we just bought this place together and left it there." I was dumbfounded.

"Well, is this what you want?"

I paused to think for a moment. My thoughts went straight to my students. I enjoyed being with them and although I was glad to see my workdays end, part of me always wished I had some little ones to go home to. I swallowed and answered sincerely "Yes."

"Then this is what I want too."

Mark had a sheepish look on his face.

"What is it?"

"Well, I was just thinking, God am I glad we're not sitting on the bathroom floor still."

"Why?"

He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket.

"Because, Jesus, how inappropriate a time would that have been to give you this." He said, handing me a small black box.

I looked at the box and then up at him.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"I don't know. The guy said to choose box number 1, 2 or 3, so I grabbed number one and hoped for the best," he said with his hands outstretched.

I opened it and gasped. It was the most gorgeous half carat diamond solitaire. Mark took it out of my hand, pulled the ring out of the box and placed it on my left ring finger.

"Not only are you my best friend, my lover, my partner and the woman of my dreams, but can I also ask you to be my wife?"

"God I better or Mabel will burn down our house," I joked. "She gets wind of this and she'll start telling the neighbours that the spawn of Satan has been conceived at 13 Beach Rd."

"Is that a yes?" he laughed.

"Yes," I said, embracing him.
Chapter 3

"Mrs. Tame? Mrs. Tame!" I heard from a distance.

"Have you got any water I can give her?" The voice sounded closer and more familiar.

"Come on Shelley, honey, it's me Sarah." Her hand was patting my hand and stroking my hair. As I opened my eyes, I realized I was lying on a floor. For a moment, I had forgotten the nightmare I left before everything went black.

I looked up and saw Sarah's face staring down at me. Her gaze worried me. Why was she looking at me like that? "Are you okay?" She asked, still stroking my hair.

The door opened and Lily entered, her face I immediately recognized, but the doctor she had in tow I did not. She had a paper cup filled with water in one hand and a stethoscope and blood pressure apparatus in the other. The doctor who accompanied her was very young and short, his hair was shaggy and dishevelled, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in days.

"Now just lie there a moment, we're just going to check and make sure you are alright before you try to get up, okay?" Lily said.

As she checked my blood pressure, she gave the doctor an approving nod and he began to speak. "Mrs. Tame, I'm Dr. Greenfield. How about we get you sitting up now, huh?"

The three of them hoisted me up onto the nearest couch and Lily offered me the water. He waited until I took a sip before he began to speak again.

"I've been working on your husband and I'm afraid it doesn't look good for him."

"W...what do you mean? I...is he going to make it?" My chin began to quiver.

"Well...yes, he's pulled through, but he suffered a major heart attack. He's going to require extensive open-heart surgery and months of post operative care. His blood pressure is dangerously high, and his arteries are badly clogged."

Sarah interjected, "But he's going to make it." She asked in somewhat of a casual tone, like she was making sure the size nine shoes were put in the size nine box.

"Well...yes, if he makes it through the next week it looks good for him." The doctor's voice was unconvincing to me. It was as though he was unsure the right size shoe was in the box.

"Um, Dr...Greenfield, right?" Sarah began.

"Yes, that's right."

"Are you a specialist or a cardiologist?"

"Well, no, I'm the head on call emergency doctor here tonight," he said, slightly blushing.

"Okay, can we talk to a specialist or a cardiologist please?" Sarah's voice puffed a little in frustration.

"I'm afraid there is no cardiologist available tonight....um, but there will be one available in the morning. Shall I arrange for you to speak with him?" He asked as though he would have never thought of it unless Sarah brought it up.

Sarah glared at him. "Um, yes!"

"Definitely," he said as he rose and quickly left the room.

"Man, I was about to check his breath for alcohol," Sarah commented.

Lily disregarded the comment even though her face turned pink and said, "I'll arrange for you to speak to the head cardiologist the moment he's available."

"Thank you, you've been most helpful." Sarah nodded.

I looked at Lily as my tears began once again and I asked the inevitable question, "Can I see him?"

"Give me a few minutes to check where he is, okay?"

As Lily left, I heard Sarah's phone chime. She opened her purse, retrieved it and said "Shit, it's Jessica. I asked her to text me her new dorm number so I could reach her." My mouth opened and Sarah's hand signalled me to stop. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her anything."

"So, who do I tell first?"

"Let's wait and see how he's doing first. Hopefully somebody knows more than doctor dimwit so we can actually have an answer for your kids when they ask."

Lily entered the room again.

"Okay, he's still in the emergency room, but he's being admitted to the cardiac wing shortly. You can see him when he's situated in the room, okay? It will only be another twenty minutes or so."

"Wait, the cardiac wing? Shouldn't he be in the I.C.U.?" Sarah asked.

"Well, we don't have the room there for him and they have all the necessary equipment and staff in the cardiac wing anyhow." Lily angled her hand across her mouth like she was about to tell us a big secret. She lowered her voice to a whisper and said "It's much nicer in the cardiac wing, and to be honest, well, just wait and see what the cardiologist says tomorrow, okay?"

Sarah and I glanced at each other with the same confused look on our face.

"Is it just me or is this hospital fucked up?" Sarah said, laughing.

"I have to call my mother," I said.

"Why?"

"Because she has lots of money and time on her hands. She'll find Mark the best damn doctor and hospital there is," I said, half crying as I dialled her number.

***

Even though my mother was, well, eccentric, she was tough as nails. I knew there wasn't anything I could tell her that she couldn't handle. When my father told her he had an affair, she simply said, "Okay, well that's that then. Pack your bags and be on your way by morning, okay?" That was her response after twenty years of marriage. No tears, no yelling, just an order to get out. There were many instances like that that I can remember where my mom never let anything get her down. She was always either happy or indifferent. If I had bad news for her, she always had an action plan to fix it straight away. I knew this time would be no exception.

She answered on the third ring. "Hi mom, it's Shelley."

"Hello dear, how was your day?" She asked, I could hear her relaxation CD playing in the background, signalling it was almost time for her last meditation of the day.

"Um, well I have some bad news. Mark had a heart attack tonight. I'm at the hospital right now. Sarah's with me and I haven't called the kids yet." I figured I might as well dump it all at once. That was how mother dealt with things.

"Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that dear." There was a pause. "Do you need anything? Do you need me to go get the kids or come to you?"

"No thanks, Sarah and I are handling things here at the hospital. One thing I could use some help on is finding a good cardiologist. The one here isn't available until the morning and from the looks of the doctor on call here their roster of physicians is somewhat lacking." Speaking to my mom relaxed me slightly. The balanced tone in her voice was always reassuring and comforting.

"Sure, I can call Grace. She might be able to help." Grace was a friend of the family and was transferred ten years ago to nurse at one of the largest hospitals in Chicago. Her husband Bill was on the board of directors for that hospital. They met online and decided she would move in with him.

"That would be wonderful mom, thanks."

"Give me a half hour or so and ring me back, okay? I was going to call tomorrow, but I can see if she's home tonight. If not, I have Bill's work number."

***

Lily's head popped into the room. "He's settled in the room, but you can only visit for a minute. He's heavily sedated and needs his rest. Follow me." She opened the door fully as Sarah and I rose, gathering our purses. Sarah grabbed my arm and steadied me. We walked to the elevator arm in arm. I drew in a deep breath as we entered the elevator and Lily pushed the button for the cardiac floor.

"So he's heavily sedated and there are some tubes around him. He's also on a ventilator, so his breathing will be laboured but don't panic. You're going to hear lots of beeps and small alarms. But it's all normal. You can only stay a minute, please understand." Sarah and I nodded as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

Lily led us through a hallway similar to the one on the main floor. My hands once again searched for the familiar texture in the wallpaper. "Are you okay?" Sarah asked with a puzzled look on her face. "I don't know," I answered in a whisper. "I will stay with you as long as you want, you know that, right?" Sarah asked. I nodded.

Lily stopped in front of the door Mark's room. For a moment I felt weak again, like I was going to faint. I closed my eyes tightly and recited a silent prayer to God. I could feel Sarah's hand steady me. Lily grabbed the chair under the window and placed it behind me. I pushed the chair closer to Mark and leaned over so I could look at his eyes. I reached up and stroked the side of his face softly. The only words I could find were, "I love you." And I kissed him tenderly.

***

Later that day, Mark underwent a procedure to unclog his arteries. While he was recovering, we waited patiently. It was me, Sarah and Richard, Mark's former partner from the station. Suddenly I heard a broken-up snore come from behind me. I let go of Mark's hand and looked back at Richard, where I suspected the sound came from. Richard had a deep grin on his face and his finger pointed devilishly at Sarah. She sat in the chair, slumped over and her head rested on her arm, which was outstretched. Her mouth was wide open, and a bit of spittle had escaped and was gently trailing down her forearm. He took a tray, covered it with cold water and dipped her hand in it. We waited. Richard's face was that of a little boy's; like he had just booby trapped his big brother's room and was hiding in the closet, waiting for the bucket of oatmeal to pour down on his head.

Suddenly Sarah's head popped up and a bridge of spit formed in the sunshine that peeked through the window.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she said in her sleepy voice. Then she tried to lift her outstretched arm unsuccessfully. It had fallen asleep. The image of her lifting her arm from the elbow using her opposing arm made me almost fall off the chair in laughter. She looked like she was going to bat. Richard had to put the tray down as he began to laugh so hard he nearly dropped it.

"You're a fucking loser!" she said, smacking Richard with her good arm.

We were all laughing hysterically when we heard Mark clear his throat and say "That's no language for a lady."

I turned around first and knocked the vomit tray over, spilling water all over Sarah. Richard began to laugh again when Mark commented "There...that ought to clean you up a bit." I looked at him and he winked.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Fine from what I can tell." Sarah commented snidely.

Richard, still laughing, walked towards the bathroom to get a towel and Mark added "All that water make you have to pee my boy?"

Mark nodded in mock disbelief "I can't get any sleep with all these children around." I looked at him and smiled. His blue eyes seemed deeper as he looked at me. His face almost seemed to return to normal as he awakened fully.

As Richard bent down to soak up the water with the towel, Sarah took the first opportunity to kick him in the ass. She did it gently, not enough to hurt and he commented, "Well, I guess I earned that, didn't I?"

"Glad to see my misfortune hasn't affected your sense of humour," Mark joked.

"Not at all buddy, how you doin'?" Richard rose and shook Mark's hand.

Mark must have taken Richard's question as rhetorical because all he did was shrug his shoulders in response and frown a bit, as if to say "Whatever."

"Well you definitely look better." I commented.

Sarah interjected, "Yeah, that sex change was really effective."

Mark retorted "Sex change? No wonder my junk is killing me...I thought I'd been castrated." He said, lifting up the sheets and taking a look, mischievously smiling.

I gently nudged his arm. "That's just because they took the catheter out. Do you want me to call the nurse?"

He looked around, noticing he was still hooked up to a few machines. "Yeah, I need to pee badly and I don't think I can get up on account of all this spaghetti stuck to me."

"I'll be right back." I said, walking towards the door.

Mark called "Shelley, honey, that's what they have this here magic button for?" He was holding up the small grey contraption that was attached to the fitted sheet on the bed with a safety pin. I rolled my eyes and walked back in the room.

"You know, baby, we oughta think of getting one of these....that way I can call you when I want you." He winked.

Richard sighed. "Okay, too much information....although, that button would have gotten you out of this mess to begin with, had you already had one at home, you know...".

Mark's head cocked to one side "True."

Nurse Nancy entered with Mark's chart. She was a woman of colour in her mid forties if I was to guess. Her hair was kept natural but tied back in a tight bun and she wore light blue scrubs and not a stitch of makeup. As she opened his chart I noticed the flaming red nail polish adorning her extremely long nails. Mark's eyes widened as he stared at them. "No wonder my junk hurts," he commented. "You didn't come to stick another catheter in me with those claws, did you?"

Nancy looked at Mark and shook her head while tapping her index finger nail on the clip board. "Now listen here Mr. Tame, I already went against doctor's orders and let you call your wife, so no lip outta you or I'll give you a barium enema." Then she winked and walked closer to him. Richard giggled and I heard Sarah smack him.

"How are you feeling now?" Her expression was serious.

"Good, but my bladder feels like it's gonna explode and my parts don't feel too eager on being used if you get my drift."

"It'll only hurt for a second.....you've heard that a few times before, right?" She said, winking.

Mark's face went blank.

"Don't worry. You can pee in a bottle. I have to take a sample anyhow." She turned to the rest of us and said, "Okay, now unless you all want a show here, when I come back you'll need to leave for a few minutes, okay?"

Mark looked worried. He was still staring at her nails. "Can my wife stay?" He asked, terrified.

She bent down closer to his face and said "Aw, yes, she can stay if she wants. But I promise I'll be real gentle. In fact, you can do it yourself if you like." She patted him on the arm and left the room.

Richard's eyes followed Nancy out of the room. As soon as the door closed shut, he said, "Freddy Kruger has shorter nails than she does." Not helping," Mark said.

I interjected, "Okay, why don't you guys go and get us a snack or something while she does her thing?"

Sarah and Richard both rose reluctantly. Richard added, "But I want to watch him squirm." Sarah smacked him playfully on the back and pushed him toward the door.

"What would you like?' she asked me.

"Anything edible....a bagel with butter if they've got anything that looks fresh. Oh, and some water please." I nodded. She nodded back.

When the door closed, I immediately put my arms around Mark's head. He kissed the side of my face and said, "I love you so much." I kissed him in return and said, "God, I love you, too. I was never so scared baby. You have no idea." Mark's hand was around my neck and he hung on for a few moments. Our faces gently pressed against each other.

"Do the girls know?" he asked.

"Yeah, I told them this morning. They wanted to come home but I talked them out of it. Sarah helped with Jess."

Mark nodded, "They'll be home in a few weeks for Thanksgiving anyhow....and your birthday. That was what I would have done, rather than interrupt everything. I'll be home in a few days from what the doctor said right before I went under."

I nodded. Mark's face looked into mine and he reached out to touch my cheek. "Life sure is about to change". His face looked solemn; his eyes looked glossy and kept moving from side to side, following my eyes.

"It sure is," I said.
Chapter 4

It was Mark's first week back to work after the heart attack; he and Richard sat in his office eating lunch. Luckily things had been quiet since Mark had been away and his deputy chief Andy Kerrington was able to manage everything during his convalescence. They were beginning to gear up for Thanksgiving: crime tended to rise slightly during holidays. Last year there had been two shootings and a home invasion on Thanksgiving Day and since the economy had taken somewhat of a nosedive and there was an election looming, statisticians projected that things could be worse this year.

Andy's head popped in and he casually threw a file on Mark's desk "Here's the Reed file you asked for."

"Hm. Thanks Andy." A woman named Karen Reed was murdered during Mark's absence, and he wanted to be updated.

Andy nodded at Richard; Richard nodded back and said, "Hey, how's it goin' Andy?" Andy nodded and closed the door.

When Mark and Richard first met, they were partners working the beat together. Richard was married at the time to Wendy. She was a high school counsellor, and they met through a mutual college friend. The shift work tore them apart and Wendy couldn't have kids which didn't help. They were only married for five years. If Wendy wasn't home they would go to the local pub together and have dinner and a beer. Shelley and Mark met a few years into Richard's marriage.

"What's goin' on anyway? Richard asked. "Hate being back to the grind or what?"

"Nah. It's all these damn changes. Diet, pills, exercise. I hated it before the heart attack, and I still hate it," Mark spat, covering his fist over his mouth to let out a burp.

"Well be thankful you're alive. That's more than I can say for ol' Karen Reed here." Richard said, opening up the file that Andy left. He began leafing through the pictures and statements from the witnesses.

"Jesus. I didn't know she was only forty. I only heard talk from Noonan and Hobbs when they got back from the Coroner's Office. A damn shame. Shot. Point blank in the forehead in her own home. No witnesses except the neighbours; they heard the shot I suppose." Richard's head shook slowly from side to side and his face frowned as he read the notes from the first cop on the scene. He took the last bite of his sandwich and scrunched up the plastic bag. Looking at Mark, he asked, "Are you done?" and extended his hand, offering to throw Mark's garbage in the basket with his. Mark balled up the waxed paper and handed it to Richard. "Thanks," he said, turning his attention back to the file.

"Any prints?" Mark asked, glad the subject had changed.

"None. Must have used gloves. No forced entry, no sign of a struggle accept for a tear in her living room drapes."

"Any kids? Husband? Boyfriend?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Divorced. Ex died last year in a car accident. Drunk driver."

"Well that's a relief. Thank god no kids were around to see that," Mark said, recalling the murder that made him chief. Every time a new murder case came up, he was reminded of how bad it could be. James Gruber had served his sentence for raping and murdering a middle aged woman. He escaped during his parole and went out again to rape and murder another woman. He had a thing for performing his crimes in front of children, even though he never touched them.

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Richard agreed. He was with Mark the night Gruber was shot.

"Had our share of close calls, haven't we pal?" Richard patted Mark on the shoulder, rose from his seat and saluted him as he headed out the door. Mark returned the salute and took a sip of his fat free milk. He swallowed and frowned, picking up the plastic reusable bottle and examining it. It looks like watered down primer he thought. Tastes like it too. He sighed and began to compulsively chew his thumb nail. God I AM grumpy! What the hell is wrong with me? Even Shelley had noticed the change in his attitude. She'd been quiet the last few days since he'd returned to work.

Looking over at the file cabinet, Mark noticed his assistant Lisa had neatly piled all the other open case files for him to review. It looked like he had a lot of catching up to do. Well, it's not going to get done by sitting here staring at it. He got up from his chair and picked up the first half of the pile. There was a dull pain in his lower back from the little bit of cycling he had done a few days ago, so he decided to stand and read. Suddenly he heard a knock at the door. It was Richard, Mark motioned him in.

Slightly winded he said "There's been an accident. We need you in the conference room." Mark followed; both men taking steps double the length of their normal stride. When they reached the conference room, the door was closed, which was odd because if there was a media briefing it was usually opened and swarmed by cameras and members of the local news; people attending were blinded by the camera flashes and deafened instantly by the circus of reporters immediately peppering him with questions regarding the case. Mark looked at Richard and furrowed his brows "What the hell is going on?" Richard didn't answer but opened the door. His face had a strange grin.

Everyone yelled "Surprise!!" Mark looked shocked and then changed to a look as if to say "oh my god, you people are a bunch of crazy asses." They all clapped and came over to greet him. There was a banner on the conference room wall that read "Welcome Back Chief!!" printed on several 8 ½" x 11" sheets of paper tacked up with thumb tacks. Streamers hung from the ceiling like someone had toilet papered the whole place with varying colours of ass wipe. Some balloons were haphazardly hanging on loose scotch tape, ready to fall and pop at any moment. It was clearly a party put together last minute by the guys; no women could have been part of this, Mark thought. This was more like something put together by a bunch of drunken frat guys.

He couldn't help but laugh as he looked around. He was so used to Shelley's well planned and professionally organized parties. There was no food or drinks, just about twenty members of the precinct, including Richard, Noonan and Hobbs and some other beat cops. Andy, the Deputy Chief was there, too and a couple of the newer guys hired right before Mark got sick.

"You guys are a bunch of morons," Mark commented, smiling. A small chuckle came from his mouth as his head swayed from side to side. "I can only guess who put you all up to this," he said, looking at Richard with one eyebrow cocked.

He kept on as the guys walked past him and shook his hand. Noonan, a twentysomething cop, well groomed like the rest of them with a brush cut and cleanly shaven, approached Mark and said, "Looking good, chief. Looks like the wife has been laying off all that good food. We've missed it around here." He nodded and Mark playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Yeah, those days are over I'm afraid-" Richard cut in "Yeah, it's all fat free mayo and turkey breast from now on." The guys all laughed at Mark's expense. He took Richard in a head lock and gave him a sizeable noogie, carefully using his most calloused knuckle to drive into his friend's scalp. Richard recovered by licking his hand and doing a very bad Fonzie impression, miming the character's famous comb manoeuvre.

A couple of the guys played along and said "Aaayyyy!" in Arthur Fonzarelli's low, rugged voice with both thumbs pointing north, just as he famously did. Mark ended the charade by giving each of the participants an affectionate smack on the back of the head. "Alright, alright. Since there's no food or drinks, or dancers here like at a real party, I suppose all there is left is to get back to work." Mark scoffed with his hands outstretched. Hobbs, Noonan's partner high fived Mark as he walked past him "Hey, glad to have you back, Chief."

"Thanks man, good to be back."

Lisa, Mark's assistant sauntered by. In her former life she had been a beat cop. She lost her leg after an injury on the job when she was twenty five. Nobody could tell she had a prosthetic leg. She moved up in the ranks to become the Chief's assistant. She'd seen a few chiefs of police come and go over the years, but Mark held a special place in her heart. He treated her the way she wanted; like one of the guys. Lisa and Richard dated briefly after his divorce, but it never stuck; their camaraderie at work outweighed their attraction to one another.

"Oh there you are, Mark. Shelley's on the phone." She winked affectionately. "Yeah thanks, I'll be right there." He responded, looking at his watch. "Thanks guys for the er...um....this." He joked, winking and waved to everyone as he walked out to meet Lisa.

"Did Andy bring you that file you asked for?" she asked.

"Sure did. And I saw the others on my credenza, thanks." Mark's head cocked back in an afterthought. He turned around and saw Richard standing with a few of the guys that stayed back.

Mark yelled "Hey Richard?" Richard looked up, he had been casually laughing, his body turned to face Mark's.

"Make sure you clean up that fire trap before the next media circus hits, okay?" He smiled and laughed, knowing the only thing Richard hated more than setting up for a party was cleaning up after it. Richard lifted one hand up and showed him his middle finger. Mark was about to reply when Lisa interjected "Never mind children, I'll look after it.....Lord knows he'll clean it up as well as he placed it." Mark looked at Lisa, Richard was approaching from behind. "That's okay Lisa, I was just joking. I'll do it." He said, smiling and putting his hand on her shoulder. Mark interrupted, "Why don't you two lovebirds both clean it up, while I go answer the phone." His voice was warm and his hands were on each of their backs. He gave each of them a small pat and walked away.

When Mark left, Richard still had his hand on Lisa's shoulder. He looked at her seriously and said, "Streamers are flammable right? I'll go get my torch." Lisa blinked and responded "And I'm the one who lost a leg."

***

Richard sat in his office; it was past eight o'clock. Out of habit, his fingers ran through his hair, scratching at the stubble on his crown. If he kept up with that, he would soon have none to scratch, he thought to himself. Feeling fatigued and listless, he rose from his chair to grab his tenth coffee of the day. As he walked past Mark's office, he checked the door to ensure Mark remembered to lock it. Turning the knob and feeling resistance, he was satisfied. Richard stood there a moment, staring at the dark room; looking at the files neatly piled on the desk with post it notes attached in strategic places.

A picture of Mark hung on the wall; he could only see the glass of the frame shining in the fluorescent light filtering in from Lisa's room. He knew which one it was though. The picture was taken the day Mark became Chief of Police. There he stood beside his friend, arms draping each other's shoulders and huge smiles brightening their faces. Shelley had taken the picture that day. The pride in her face was unmistakable. Richard wished he could have seen that pride in Wendy's face; but he never did. He looked down at the floor and frowned.

"Why so glum chum?" Lisa asked.

Richard gasped, he was startled but wasn't sure why. He had already noticed her office light was still on. "Ah, just tired I guess."

She looked in Mark's office and directed her head in the direction of his door. "Do you miss Mark?" she said in a soft voice.

He wiped his nose unconsciously "Yeah, I guess. It sure isn't the same staying late without him." He felt his face flush slightly.

Sensing his embarrassment, Lisa looked at Richard and asked, "Is there anything you need help with? Misery loves company."

He faced Mark's office again. "Well, if you haven't got anything else I could use a key to get those files off his desk. He forgot to leave them with me."

She put her hand in her pocket and brought out a large key ring with about twenty keys attached. The ring was affixed to a bright pink curly cord, the kind that used to belong on telephones. Richard moved to the side and she opened the door with one turn of the key. He followed her in as she switched on the light. His eyes went immediately to the picture on the wall he had been looking at earlier.

Lisa looked at the pile of files and commented, "It looks like they're all here. He didn't take any home." She sat down in one of the guest chairs and began thumbing through the files. "Andy's been working on these, too, but I think he's gone as far as he can. He gave his copies to Noonan yesterday. They're doing some follow up on the break and enter from last week. Hobbs is helping Noonan canvas for that one. Giles and Morgan are working on the theft and domestic disturbance from the week before, and I think the only other ones are the DUI and grand theft auto from that same week." She cleared her throat, "I know Mark wanted the Reed murder file in particular. That one is right on top."

Richard nodded in acknowledgement as she read off all the cases. "Has any of the evidence come back from the crime scene?" he asked.

"No, just what's in the file. We should be getting something back tomorrow or the next day. Trace is dragging their ass this week since Bob's been on vacation. No surprises there." Bob was the lead pathologist and he took two weeks of vacation a year, somehow the morgue never seemed to plan for it. They had a rookie pathologist on staff and were ill prepared for the murder. "Have we gotten the pictures back from the scene?" Richard asked, in disbelief, "No, we don't even have those yet. No wonder Mark was pissed off and went home early." Richard nodded. He paused, looking down at his hands interlaced above his knees.

"Hey, you okay?" Lisa asked, looking directly at him.

He hesitated for a moment and answered "Do you want to go out for dinner?"

***

Mark's face was surprised exasperation when I presented him with his plate filled with pretend beef stew. I playfully smacked him on his shoulder and walked over to the switch plate to dim the lights. He had his fork in hand and he was carefully lifting up morsels of food and looking under them.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying not to appear upset.

He laughed "Nothing, nothing. I'm just horsing around. Don't worry, it looks delicious, I promise." His hands were outstretched in front of him, as if to ward off any confrontation.

"I worked really hard to prepare this meal, Mark. You have no idea how frustrating it is to have to cook such challenging meals for such a challenging.....palate." I said, forcing out a laugh to soften the reality but at the same time make him aware of my bruised feelings.

"I know," he said, rising and taking my hands, leading me to my seat.

"I appreciate how hard you work to try to keep me happy. Really I do." He held my hands in his and looked directly into my eyes.

"It's just taking me more time than I thought it would to get used to all this change, that's all. I mean...I don't drink or smoke and never have. I'm no more than twenty pounds overweight and that only transpired in the last five years or so. I just never thought I would go through this. I was just as shocked as everyone else was having the heart attack...I mean me....I had a heart attack." He paused. "It still makes my head shake a little." He took a sip of his water. "Food is pretty much my only real guilty pleasure. It's tough when you can't enjoy junk food. What makes it even harder is knowing that if I eat it....well, it could kill me." He shook his head and took another sip of water.

"Well, I'm bound and determined to find food that is a guilty pleasure for you. And look at it this way: if your cholesterol goes back down, you can start eating some guilty stuff in moderation again."

Mark raised his water glass, "I'll drink to that." We clinked our glasses, "I'm starving, let's eat."

***

After dinner we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. Mark kept cursing because I ran the dishwasher and he had to keep raising and lowering the volume to drown out the noise.

"God, that's annoying. You want to go upstairs and watch it? Where it's quieter?" I grabbed the disc out of the player and followed him. I playfully nudged his rear a couple times on the way up the stairs.

"Hey cut that out!" He laughed, waving my hand away from behind. "I'll get you back."

"That's what I was hoping for," I said, my eyebrows raised and lowered twice.

He turned around and faced me when we reached the top of the stairs. His arms wrapped around me. Our noses were touching. "You have no intention of finishing that movie, do you?" he asked. I kissed him passionately and he responded by tightening his hold. He began walking backwards, leading me into the bedroom. I dropped the disc on the floor and left it. My body was pulsing with desire; it had been so long since we made love. My breathing was heavy and my movements were fast, getting myself and Mark undressed. He actually stood back and let me take over, or at least that's what I thought he was doing.

Once our clothes were off, I put my arms around him and slowly led him onto the bed. His hands were surprisingly still. I straddled him, and he laid there and watched as I moved all over. Kissing, licking and touching him. He suddenly touched my bottom and I cried out, hungry for him to touch me more. His hands gave a strange gesture, kind of like a hold, as if he was telling me to stop. I looked up at him, and he had an odd look on his face. He was concentrating, but he didn't look like he was enjoying himself.

"What's wrong?" I asked breathlessly.

"I...I don't know. Nothing's happening."

"What do you mean?" I swallowed, trying to catch my breath.

"I mean....nothing is happening...I...uh...can't get it up." His hand left my buttock and I felt him grab hold of himself. I lifted my leg up and over, so I could see for myself. Sure enough, a strand of my hair could have stood up better.

"Jesus. Are you feeling okay? I mean, this is new, right?" I asked, examining his penis with one hand and instinctively checking his forehead for a fever with the other.

"Yeah, I feel perfectly fine. I mean, I thought I was horny as ever a few minutes ago. Then it just went away."

I took a cleansing breath. "Well, maybe the doctor can help. You go on Thursday, right?"

"Yeah." He answered, stunned.

I lowered myself down next to him and laid in my favourite spot on his chest. We lay there for a few minutes in silence.

"Well, don't worry too much baby. I'm sure it's just the medication or something. It'll be fine," I said, patting his chest, and then I rolled the blankets up to cover us. After a while, Mark broke the silence. "I hope so. Because if I have to give up sex as well as everything else. I think I would rather die."
Chapter 5

"Good morning." A noticeably brightened smile was on Richard's face.

"Hey." Mark looked up and did a double take. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, but he had a devilish grin.

Mark was in no mood for games after last night's letdown on top of everything else. Shelley had insisted he move up his doctor's appointment. Which meant Mark would see his cardiologist after lunch.

"What the hell is your problem?" Mark asked. Richard sensed his frustrated tone. "It's no big deal. I just went out to dinner last night." Richard's eyes went over to Lisa's desk and his chin rose slightly, as if to point in her direction.

Mark's eyes went back to the file he was thumbing through and his head waved from side to side "Well it's about time."

Richard laughed. "Glad you approve."

Mark changed the subject. "We got all the stuff back from the Reed case. I've been through it all with Andy, do you want me to brief you on it, or have you got something else going on."

"Nah, I'm good. Hey, you must have been here early again. Jeez, it's only seven thirty now," he said, looking at his watch.

"Yeah, I gotta leave for a bit this afternoon and I wanted to get through this stuff beforehand." Richard sat down in the guest chair and waited for Mark to start.

Mark handed Richard the crime scene photos first. One by one Richard viewed them, turning them over to get a better angle on some. His face screwed up to focus on a couple, and he closed his eyes in disgust for one in particular. "Is that the one with the blood splatter?" Mark asked, watching Richard wince.

"Ugh, yeah. That's pretty nasty. What's Charlie saying about this?" Charlie Thompson was their best crime scene investigator.

"He says it was obviously done by someone she knew. I think I told you before Charlie could find no signs of forced entry." Richard nodded while he looked at a couple of less gruesome shots. "There's not a lot to go on in this case. We're going to need a lot of Charlie's help." Mark's phone rang; he looked on the screen "Speak of the devil, here's Charlie on the line."

He picked up the phone and hit the speaker button "Hey Charlie I've got you on speaker with Richard here, what's the word?"

"Sorry I haven't got better news. My guys have been over the scene three times now and there are no prints or casings. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Everything is hers and there are a couple of partial finger prints, but nothing we can work with."

"What about anything wonky looking in the place? Any of the samples look odd?" Richard asked.

"Nope. This guy was slick. She was a clean freak, too. Nothing but dust and normal stuff."

"One sec." Mark and Richard could hear the phone being covered and muffled voices in the background.

Two seconds later Charlie came back on. "Hey guys, sorry about that. Reed's house is still cordoned off and her body is still with the coroner if you want to have a look yourself. Let me know and I'll let Nelson know when to expect you. He's keeping watch until noon and then Wendell is taking over."

Mark looked at Richard and he nodded. "Sure, we'll head over now. Then we'll hit the morgue," Mark said.

"Sure thing." The phone clicked and Mark hit the end button.

"Should we take the file with us?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, good idea," Mark said, "In the meantime I'll have Lisa dig up what she can on Reed, deeper than what the rookies have dug up so far,"

"Yeah, Lisa's sure got a knack for digging," Richard commented.

"You would know," Mark said, winking at him. Richard jokingly seethed.

"She's late for work you know." Mark teased. "You keep her up past her bedtime last night?"

"Nothing happened if that's what you're implying," Richard said as he picked up his coat. "Besides, how can she be late? It's not even eight o'clock."

"Not late by my standards. Hers. You never noticed before how early she gets here?" Mark picked up the file after shrugging on his jacket.

Richard nodded, opening the door and waiting for Mark to go ahead. "That girl needs a raise," Richard commented.

The word 'raise' made the hair on the back of Mark's neck stand up. Normally he would have said something like "I bet she got one last night", but he declined to comment.

"My car or yours?" Richard asked. Mark was about to answer when Andy walked in.

"We're just heading over to review the Reed scene. You want to join us?" Mark asked Andy. Andy's face looked pale, and he was sipping a large coffee and appeared to be taking small, slow movements. Mark noticed the change in his pallor "Hey, you look like the way I looked a few weeks back, what's going on?"

Andy swallowed and cleared his throat. "My brother surprised us last night with tickets to the hockey game. We went out to the bar afterward. Never let your brother talk you into drinking something called a 'snakebite'. They're called that for a reason." Richard and Mark laughed. The laughter prompted Andy to put his hand on his head and wince.

"Sorry man. Okay, we'll catch you later," Mark said, patting Andy gently on the shoulder.

"I don't suppose you're up for a noogie or two are you?" Richard teased, speaking slightly louder than normal.

"You do and I'll puke in your hat," Andy retorted, taking another sip of his coffee and walking away. Richard grabbed the bill and back of his police hat and pulled tightly with a grin on his face. The crown of his head peeked up from the material slightly, and then he pushed it back to its rightful place.

"We'll take my car if it's all the same to you. If we run late, you don't mind tagging along to the cardiologists with me, do you?" Mark asked.

"Sure. Hell, he can check out my ticker too if he wants," Richard said, picking his keys out of his pocket. Mark grinned.

***

The victim's home was across town, about ten minutes from the police station. When they pulled up, the red tape was still tightly wound around the perimeter of the house, which stood quaintly on a quiet street not far from the highway. There was a large concrete wall partitioning off the residential area from the noise of the highway. Karen Reed's house was ordinary, like the cookie cutter style homes on the rest of the street. The only difference between her detached bungalow and her neighbours' homes was an awning on the front porch. It was metal and painted robin's egg blue. It looked like it had been added recently since the paint wasn't peeling or faded.

Constable Nelson's police cruiser was parked in the driveway. He must have heard Mark and Richard's cruiser pull up because the door opened and he suddenly appeared in the doorway. When Richard exited the car, Nelson tipped his hat to greet him and Richard did the same. Nelson was in his early twenties, tall with short hair like all the rest of his peers. He had only been on the force for a few months; hence he was given low risk tasks such as watching scenes under investigation. He wasn't assigned a partner yet, but it looked like he and Wendell, another newbie, would be partnered up soon.

"Good morning Chief Tame." Nelson saluted as Mark exited the car.

"No need for formalities, Nelson. At ease."

"Sir, the scene is secure; no intruders today...er...at least as long as I've been here."

"Great job Nelson. Why don't you grab a coffee or something while Richard and I have a look around? Unless you want to stay. You're more than welcome if you'd like." Nelson gave Mark a swift bow and walked to his car.

Richard entered the house and realized the windows were all open; then he looked around and learned why. The victim's blood spatter was still all over the walls and floor. There were bits of grey matter and clumps of hair mixed in with the blood. All the particles must have begun rotting because the smell was enough to make Richard gag. He took his shirt sleeve and tried his best to cover his nose. Mark did the same.

"God, it's a wonder we still eat meat after all the blood and shit we've seen over the years," Richard commented.

"Somehow I'm not as desperate as I thought I was to get back into red meat," Mark added.

"I'll remind you of that when we go to the doctor's."

"Thanks, but you can wait in the car," Mark said.

They both looked around the house. Mark along one side of the house where the kitchen, living room and powder room were located, and Richard down the hall towards the bedrooms and bathroom.

"Charlie was right, this place is spotless," Richard commented.

"I'll say. I thought Shelley was neat," Mark responded.

There was not a thing out of place; no clutter whatsoever. The entrance had a small console table for keys and mail and it held a small, organized pile of unopened envelopes wrapped in a thin elastic band. There was one letter on top with a fresh stamp on it, waiting to be mailed. Mark entered the powder room beside the console table and switched on the light. The sink was spotless, there were no brushes or combs to be found since they were all gone to trace for DNA samples. The toilet seat was down and there was a blue fluffy seat cover and matching floor mat. The mirror had a small blue rosette in the same color as the cover and mat affixed to the top left hand corner. The bathroom light was also in the shape of a rosette.

"She liked blue flowers," Mark yelled from the bathroom, opening the cupboard under the sink. The sound of his voice was muffled.

"Yeah. She was into fitness and crap, too. There's a bunch of exercise DVDs in the master bedroom. One left in the disc player as well," Richard yelled from the back of the house.

Mark turned off the bathroom light and went into the living room. There was a small, formerly blue sofa in the middle of the living room. It was covered in blackish red blood. There was a pool of blood right in the center of the couch. The shape of it reminded Mark of those old cartoons where the character ran through the wall and a matching form was left in the void. "She definitely died on the couch."

Richard entered the living room "I'll say." He said, examining the bloodstained couch. The wall behind the couch was equally spattered with blood. Mark searched the room and found the box of latex gloves that the crime scene investigators left; standard procedure. He walked over and pulled four gloves out of the box.

"Here," Mark said as he threw a pair of gloves to Richard. Richard caught them and put them on. When he had on both gloves, Mark walked back over to the couch.

"Give me a hand with the couch, will you?"

Mark removed one of three cushions and examined it. Richard bent down and looked in the gap between the couch and the floor. The carpeting was off white, but in the area around the couch, it was peppered with blood spatter. Satisfied, Richard stood up and took a cushion and examined it. Mark loosely replaced the first cushion and picked up the last one. The cushions were microfibre. Like corduroy, if you ran your hand across it, the nap would stay in place. The middle cushion had the least amount of blood on it. The first one had the most. Mark noticed a strange indent pattern in some dried blood on the side of the middle cushion.

"Grab the file, would you?" he asked Richard. Richard brought the file over and began thumbing through the crime scene photos. When he found the ones taken of the living room, he brought them out and spread them across the carpeted area that was cleanest; by the door.

"What are we looking for?" Richard asked.

"Are there any pictures of the couch?"

Richard scanned them and found one of the couch and the wall. He brought it over to Mark. "It appears this one was taken". Mark glanced at the picture and said, "It looks like this pattern might be an earring or necklace or something. But it was removed after the victim died."

"Did you notice a jewellery box in the bedroom?" Mark asked.

"A small one, and there's also a trinket box beside it full of crap."

"I'm just wondering if the jewellery was picked up by the investigators. Let's head over to the coroner's and see what was on her."

Mark carefully set the cushion on the floor next to the couch and grabbed a plastic 'evidence' tag and placed it in front of the cushion. He took as good a picture as he could using the camera on his cell phone and they left. Nelson was just pulling up.

"We're heading to the Coroner's now but we might be back later," Richard said. Nelson nodded and went back inside the house.

"That boy better learn how to talk or he won't survive in our precinct," Richard commented.

"Well, not with you anyway." Mark laughed.

***

Richard hated going to the Coroner's office. It was the most dank, cold and creepy place. What made matters worse was the Coroner, Bob, loved to listen to metal music while he worked. His favourite band was Metallica, and you always knew when he was having a bad day because the song 'Enter Sandman would be playing. Bob had just returned from vacation and he was playing catch up because the rookie who covered for him left many loose ends. His day wasn't going well and that song was on just as Mark and Richard arrived. Richard shuddered when he saw the bodies all laying there, covered in white sheets like furniture being protected from dust, lined up like lady finger cookies on a tiramisu.

Knowing how Richard felt about the place, Mark offered to wait in the car. "Na, I'll tough it out. I'm curious anyway. It's been a while since I've seen a point blank shot."

"Suit yourself." Mark said, holding the door for him as he winced once his foot touched the highly polished floor.

His face darkened when he saw Bob standing over a body with his back to them. Bob turned around to greet them and then immediately turned back; the man was not easily distracted. "Reed's body is the one over there," Bob said, pointing his gloved hand over to the body nearest the cadaver storage drawers. Richard closed his eyes tightly when he noticed something hanging from Bob's glove. He had to stifle the urge to walk with his eyes closed, holding Mark's shoulder for direction.

Mark noticed Richard's expression and he said under his breath, "This is why you'll never make chief." And he nudged him gently with his elbow. Richard opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, as though he had walked in on someone using the washroom and he could later claim "I didn't see a thing."

Richard nearly walked right into Mark when they reached the table where Karen Reed's body was located. "Do you mind?" Mark said.

Mark pulled aside the sheet covering Karen's face, lowering it just to her collarbone. "Was she wearing any jewellery?" he asked Bob. Mark seemed to be oblivious to the sight of her. Richard, however, couldn't keep it together and turned his back to avoid looking. There was a small hole between her eyes on her forehead, slightly to the right. The shot went clean through to the back of her skull. Her eyes remained open.

"It's in the bag under the table," Bob answered with his back still turned.

Mark bent down and raised the sheet far enough to see the yellow manila envelope. He dumped the contents onto the clean table beside them. There was a watch, a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, and a birthstone ring inside.

He looked closely at her earlobes; she had two sets of holes for earrings. He looked at her left hand; there was no mark where her wedding ring used to be and no mark on her wrist. Then he pulled up her right hand and couldn't see any marks on her fingers, but her wrist had a noticeable set of indents and scratches.

"Were these marks post mortem?" Mark asked.

Finally, Bob turned around. "Yes. Must have been a bracelet. Nothing was on her though."

"Did you get a shot of the markings?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, but it isn't great. I can try to get a mould of them if you think it's relevant."

Richard interjected, "Yeah, that would be great....are we done here?"

"Yeah, we're done for now."

"Thanks Bob, we're going to head back to the house and see if there's a bracelet in with her jewellery. See if it matches the markings on her wrist and the couch."

Bob grunted and turned his back again.

When Richard and Mark exited the morgue, Richard said, "That guy gets along better with the bodies."

***

"So you think this freak killed her and then removed some bracelet?" Richard asked Mark on the way back to the victim's house.

"I think so. It was probably a gift he gave her. If so, we might have a chance matching it up if we can get a description or something to go on," Mark said.

"At any rate, we need to go back to the house and search for anything else. We also need to contact Lisa and see what she's been able to dig up."

Richard shuddered again at the mention of 'dig up', thinking of the bodies in the morgue.

They pulled up to the house and it was like a déjà vu. Constable Nelson appeared at the front door instantly and saluted both men. Mark immediately noticed that Nelson's face looked very much like Andy's had, pale and sick. "You look like you need to be relieved Nelson. Go get some air, my man," Mark said, patting Nelson on the shoulder. He watched Nelson almost miss the first step off the porch, then gain his footing and lose his breakfast in the bushes just to the side of the steps.

"You wanna go make sure he's okay while I get started?" Mark said to Richard.

"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 name 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.

"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.

"I tell you what. I'll take you and whoever you invite out for dinner before or after the show. Fair?"

"Okay, you're invited then," She said, giving a high five to her mom.

"Well, there are ten tickets in there. We could all go with that many," Richard added.

Shelley's chin dropped as she opened the envelope, removed the tickets and fanned them out in disbelief. "Oh my goodness! Richard! How the hell can you afford this?"

Richard waved. "As much as I would love to take all credit, I should let you know that everyone else pitched in and I also got a discount because....well, I'm a cop." He said, pointing his thumb at his chest and raising his eyebrows.

Shelley exhaled and looked around the room, "Aw, thanks everyone."

Jessica rose from her chair and handed Shelley a small pink box with a white bow on top. The bow was bigger than the box.

Shelley said, looking at the box. "Oh thank you, honey, you didn't have to get me anything."

"It's nothing major, so don't get too excited," Jessica said, casually walking away.

Shelley opened the box there was a small costume jewellery necklace inside. It was imitation silver and the pendant a small medallion with a rose carved into the background. The lettering said 'kiss me', and the 'I' was dotted with a pink rose.

"Oh, Jess, it's so pretty! Thank you!" she said, gently pulling it out of the box and getting a closer look. "I love it."

"Hey, I've decided that I'm not going to a spa day with you." Sarah raised her finger and continued "but, I will come to yoga with you." Shelley smiled. "How's that grab you?" "I think that would be so much fun!" Shelley grasped her hands together and clapped with glee.

"On one condition," Shelley said. Sarah shifted her weight onto her other leg and furrowed her brows. "You have to wear yoga pants," she said, looking down at Sarah like a school teacher. Sarah paused and pursed her lips. She relented, "Fine, but I'm not doing any freak ass chants or anything." She said, pointing her finger in Shelley's face. Shelley grabbed Sarah's finger and forced it to one side in a thumb wrestle.
Chapter 7

Richard bent sideways for the third time in ten minutes and winced. Mark entered his office and scrunched up his face.

"Sorry man....turkey farts," Richard said.

"You too?" Mark asked, fanning the air with a file. Richard nodded "All night. Thanks to Shelley's leftovers I had to fly solo last night. Lisa wouldn't stay."

"If it makes you feel any better, it probably wasn't all because of the smell." Mark laughed.

Lisa stood at the doorway sideways, with one foot overlapping the other. "Sorry to interrupt, but Karen Reed's mom, Martha Masterson is holding." Mark jumped up and ran to his office. Lisa followed.

"Any more leads?" he asked.

"Nothing in the phone records. No luck with a cell phone so far. All that's left is the bracelet. Maybe mom knows something about that." Mark nodded as he straightened his tie and cleared his throat into his clenched fist. He lifted up the receiver and pushed the lit button on the cradle. Lisa winked and closed the door, heading back to her office.

"Good morning, Mrs. Masterson. This is police Chief Mark Tame."

Mrs. Masterson's voice was strong and clear. She sounded alert. "Good morning Sir. Please, call me Martha."

"Oh, well in that case, please call me Mark," he replied warmly.

"Absolutely. I have to tell you, I'm a little surprised it's taken so long for someone to get in touch with me."

"I understand your frustration, cases like this where it's clean and not much evidence take time. We had to gather as much information as we could before contacting you. Otherwise the process would be very repetitive for you and might compromise any details you might be able to share."

"I see. Well, anything I can do to help, please ask." Martha said firmly as if she was scolding him. Mark furrowed his brows.

"Er..thank you. Um, tell me, when was the last time you saw your daughter?" Mark cleared his throat.

"Well, Karen was up to see me in the summertime. I think it was in July." She waited.

"And how was the visit? Did she seem normal with you or were things off at all?"

"No, things were fine then. It was afterward that she began to become distant." Martha's words were slightly condescending.

"Were you close with Karen?" Mark ventured.

"What kind of a question is that?" Martha's tone went flat.

"Mrs. Masterson-"

Martha cut in "Please call me Martha!"

"Er, sorry, yes, Martha. Um, no question implies anything; I'm just trying to establish what Karen's relationships were like. I ask everyone I interview this question."

"Fine. Yes, I was close to my only daughter. I tried for many years to convince her to get out of that town and live up here where it is safe. But she wouldn't listen. Even after that riff raff husband of hers died she still stayed. I'm not impressed at all with the way things work there. It's taken weeks for someone to finally contact me and investigate my daughter's death and I think it's just disgusting."

She paused. "I'm not sure what happened to Karen. She just stopped calling. We didn't have a fight or anything, she just...well, it's almost like she disappeared. Her calls went from once a week to once every two weeks and then I didn't hear anything from her for the whole month of September. The last time I heard from her she said she'd met someone but didn't share anything else. She wouldn't even tell me his name."

"I'm sorry for your loss Martha," Mark said.

Martha didn't respond. "Are you still there?" Mark asked.

"Yes," Martha sniffed.

"Can you tell me anything about a bracelet Karen had?"

"What kind of bracelet?" Martha's voice became clear again.

He described the blue tear dropped bracelet to her. "No, I don't recall her having anything like that. She did wear a lot of costume jewellery though. She bought a new piece regularly."

"Do you know if she owned a cell phone?"

"No, she had one through work but she didn't use it for anything personal. She shut it off when she wasn't on call."

"Did she ever give you the number?"

"No, like I said, it wasn't for personal use. She was a Child and Youth Worker...but I'm sure you already knew that." Mark could hear the condescending tone again.

"That's fine. We can contact her employer for it. We need to get her call records is all."

"I don't see how that would be any help. She only spoke to her clients with it. I'm sure this wasn't a job a child could have done. Although in that neck of the woods, who knows...."

"Thank you for your time Martha. We'll be in touch."

"You're welcome."

***

"Any luck?" Lisa asked, opening the door. Mark saw her rise from her chair the moment he hung up the phone. She must have been watching the line the whole time.

Mark sighed, "Now there's a piece of work." Lisa crossed her arms, waiting for the details.

"It's no wonder Karen moved far away from her mother. She's more upset that nobody has followed up with her than she is that her daughter is dead." Mark stared at the ink blotter on his desk, he shook his head in disbelief.

"Maybe the friend will have more insight," Lisa suggested.

Mark lifted his hand and scratched his head. "Maybe." He lowered his hand and looked directly at Lisa. "Do we have that picture of her with the bracelet around? I've got another idea."

"Yeah, sure. I'll have someone from evidence bring it up," Lisa said, closing the door.

Mark retrieved his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and navigated through his address book. When he found the number he needed, he picked up the phone and dialled.

"Good morning Sarah's." She answered cordially.

"How's your morning so far, Trouble? Have you scared away your customers with all the turkey farts?"

Sarah laughed. "No, but I've had to send Vera out to run errands more than usual."

"How sweet she is I don't have the heart to fart!"

They both laughed and Sarah said "Whoops! There's another one!"

Mark added, "We could do this all day!" They kept laughing until they were short of breath.

"Okay, okay...I know the Chief of Police isn't calling me to ask how my ass smells today, so what can I do for you?" Sarah asked, wiping her eyes from the tears of laughter.

Mark sniffled and wiped his eyes as well. "Well, I was wondering if you could help me with a bracelet."

"What for Shelley? You want to buy her another gift?"

"No, no. It's actually a piece of evidence from a murder we're investigating." There was a pause.

"Oookay. There's a request I wasn't ready for."

"Sorry to catch you off guard. I'm kind of in a bind with this one. Do you mind if we meet up and I can show it to you? It's not actually a bracelet. It's just a picture of the victim wearing it when she was alive."

"That's okay, it's cool. Um. It's probably better if you can bring it to me. I have my equipment and reference material here." Sarah coughed at the end of her sentence.

"Sure. Will you be around all day?" Mark asked after she cleared her throat.

"Yup. Vera and I will both be here. It's pretty busy today since we were closed yesterday. Everyone's getting a leg up on Christmas shopping."

"Great. I'll be in touch."

***

Mark checked his watch and went into his lunch pouch to retrieve his medication. His coffee was cold but he gulped down the last sip to wash down his pill. As he swallowed he saw Lisa come around the corner with a clear plastic evidence bag in her hand. She opened it up and retrieved the picture.

"I don't suppose they were able to get any prints off it were they?" Mark asked, hopeful.

Lisa shook her head with a smirk. "Whoever did this was good." She handed him the bracelet. "What's your plan with this?"

"I'm going to head out to Sarah's and see if she can help." He answered, shrugging on his jacket. Lisa smiled "Oh, I'd completely forgotten about Shelley's friend. That's a great idea." She said, high fiving him.

Mark put his index finger up to his temple. "I'm not just good lookin' ya know." He winked and placed the bracelet back in the bag. "I'll be on cell for the next few hours."

"Drive safe."

***

As Mark arrived at Sarah's place, his cell phone rang. He pulled the emergency brake, turned off the ignition and grunted in irritation. His bladder was about to burst. The screen said it was Shelley.

"Hey babe, I'm in a bit of a rush here. What's up?" he said, gathering the evidence bag.

"Oh not much, I just wanted to let you know the girls are safe back at their dorms. They called late last night when you went to bed and I didn't get a chance to tell you this morning."

"Oh good. I wondered. I hadn't heard anything. But you know, no news is good news." He said, trying to hurry the conversation along.

"Did you remember to take your medicine this morning?" she asked.

Mark sighed. "Yes, I took it right before I left. Listen, I'm about to burst here. I finished a coffee before I left and I'm dying here," he said, trying to make light.

"Oh. Okay. Call me later then. Love you."

"Sure will. Love you too."

Mark walked briskly to the entrance and opened the door. The bell went off and both Sarah and Vera greeted him. He pointed toward the washroom door and headed there. They both nodded.

When he finished and found Sarah again, she was waiting for him with some small instruments and a duo tang folder. Vera was off to the opposite side serving a customer.

Sarah's jewellery store was rather small but held a wide assortment of both costume and traditional items. Most were custom made by local artisans. One of a kind pieces that men or women of all ages would purchase. She sold everything from earrings and necklaces to bracelets and watches.

Glass display cases were arranged in a U-shape and they held more expensive items. In the middle of the cases were about ten floor mounted swivel displays. Some were open and others were locked. Towards the cash registers Sarah kept a few small displays for children's jewellery.

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.

Her gasp was audible as he walked right to the passenger side door on her left. If he turned around, he would look directly at her. The door opened and suddenly she heard a 'thud.' She blindly felt for the power window button in the centre console as she said "shit!" As the window rolled down, he turned around and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh Jesus ma'am! I'm so sorry!" he said.

She smiled and said casually, "That's okay, I thought I parked a little close."

"It doesn't appear to have left a mark. Do you want to see for yourself?" he offered, embarrassed.

If it did, you can father my children and consider us even she thought to herself but didn't say it aloud.

He shifted and made enough room so she could open the door. Sarah opened the door and squeezed out slowly, grinning.

"Um, yeah, I guess I did park a little close." She half laughed as she closed the door behind her and looked at her mirror. There wasn't a mark on it.

"Ah, you're right, there's nothing there. No harm done." She smiled and looked at him.

"I'm terribly sorry about that. I had forgotten my padlock in the passenger seat. I was just getting it before heading to yoga class."

Her face lit up. "Oh, yoga? Yeah, I'm just waiting for my friend. We're going to yoga too." She felt like a moron. She might as well have drooled.

He grinned and a small dimple appeared in his left cheek. "Well, I guess I'll see you in there then." Then he held out his left hand, which bore no ring and she took note, and offered to shake her hand. "I'm Michael."

The warmth and softness of his hand made her knees weak. "I'm Sarah." She returned, giving his hand a gentle pump.

"Sorry we met under these circumstances."

Sarah waved. "Ah, that's okay. You can bang me...er...my car any day."

***

Shelley put her bag down and unzipped the side pocket. There were no messages on her cell phone. She quickly typed in, 'Where the hell are you? I'm in the change room. Class is starting in five minutes!'

As she waited she began to dress for yoga. Ten seconds later her phone vibrated and whined as it had earlier. She looked at the screen, which read 'I'm here! I've been waiting! I'll meet you in class.' Shelley sighed and shook her head.

She saw Sarah standing outside the class and the look on her face prompted Shelley to ask, "What is going on?" Her face bore a smirk and it looked as though she was trying to hold back laughter. Sarah grabbed Shelley by the arm and took her inside the classroom, holding her close enough to smell the Caesar salad she'd had for dinner.

"Oh my god!" she squeaked.

"What? What? Tell me!" Shelley begged.

"I was waiting in the parking lot and this gorgeous guy gives me a door ding...and his name is Michael and he's coming to yoga!"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Oh dear god woman! I thought there was something wrong!"

"No, no. All is great!" Sarah squeaked and squeezed Shelley's arm.

The yoga instructor entered the square shaped room. Both girls had their outfits on as did everyone else. Some people who didn't have lockers were placing their bags in the corner of the room that had a sign saying 'Please place belongings here.' And an arrow pointing down. Shelley pointed to the sign and Sarah responded by picking up her bag and walking it over. When she put it down she noticed everyone was already laying out their yoga mats and assembling around the instructor.

"Come on, come on!" Shelley coaxed, motioning Sarah to hurry up and grab a spot beside her.

Shelley had already grabbed two mats from the bin by the door and placed them side by side at the back of the class. There were about fifty yoga enthusiasts present, and as hard as Sarah tried, she couldn't find Michael. Once the class began, Sarah finally caught sight of him during a warm up pose. She couldn't bend down far enough to touch the floor and the instructor said to remain standing if that was the case. Sarah and about ten other people followed suit, and Michael was one of them. He was in front, only a few rows from the instructor, she saw him clear as day and nudged Shelley, who was bent over fully.

As Shelley remained bent over she hissed, "This is not the time!"

There was a break about thirty minutes into the class, nearly half way through. During this time the girls stayed in the class while others took a washroom break or went to refill their water bottles. Michael caught sight of Sarah and came over.

"Hey again. How are you enjoying the class so far?" he asked. His hair was damp again and there was a triangle of sweat from his neck to his chest under his t-shirt.

"It's great so far. This is my friend Shelley." He offered Shelley a hand shake and she shifted her water bottle to her left hand to oblige.

Sarah and Michael remained talking flirtatiously for the next few minutes while Shelley stood, awkwardly peeling the label off her water bottle. She kept checking to see when the yoga instructor would return, counting the minutes.

A few latecomers were arriving and Shelley was relieved that something else grabbed her attention. She watched as some filed in just as they did a half hour before. One man entered and smiled at Shelley. She smiled back casually and took another sip of water. He walked by her and she noticed he had an interesting tattoo on his upper right arm. It was small yet subtle. She recognized the zodiac sign straight away since she'd seen it many times on her mother's horoscope reference material. He was a Leo. The lion tattoo was only about three inches in diameter but the detail was astounding. It seemed as though you could see every hair on the lion's body. She couldn't help but stare as he walked by.

He took his place slightly to the left of her in the row ahead. The yoga instructor returned and class resumed. Michael bid Sarah adieu and promised they would talk after class.

"Do you want to have his children yet?" Shelley snickered as he walked away.

"We'll see. I think I'm going to ask him out. Do you think I should or should I wait and let him ask me?"

"I bet he's gay. A good looking drink of water like that and still single? Gay." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Oh stop being jealous. I'll tell you all the details, don't worry."

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"I don't know. After being married for as long as you have I just figured." Sarah shrugged. "Why? Does Mark still ride you like a pony in bed like he used to?" She laughed, arranging her arms in front of her, mirroring Shelley's pose.

Shelley hesitated. Her lack of response spoke volumes and Sarah looked over at her, bent down to see her face and Shelley looked at Sarah from the corner of her eye.

"He's fine," she said.

"Really? I saw you checking out that other guy over there." Sarah said, motioning her chin over towards the tattoo guy.

Shelley's head quickly turned to Sarah's and she gave her a look as though she'd just been insulted. "So now I'm not allowed to look?" She said under her breath. "For the record. I was looking at his tattoo." Her head returned to the centre and they both squatted down along with all the others.

Sarah didn't press. It wasn't often that Shelley spoke in that tone.

At the end of class, Michael stopped and cordially said goodbye to both girls. Shelley was quiet while they showered and got dressed.

"You wanna go for a drink?" Sarah offered, sensing Shelley needed to talk.

Shelley nodded and headed for the door, which Sarah took as assent. She took a deep breath. She knew there was definitely something bothering her dear friend.

***

"You want the good news or bad first?" Lisa asked.

"Surprise me." Mark looked up from his computer screen in frustration. It had frozen for the third time in ten minutes.

"We got a DNA sample from the vacuum cleaner bag." Lisa said matter of factly. "But there was no match in the system."

It was almost 7pm and Mark had waited all afternoon hoping that the lab would produce something to help solve the case. There was no word from any other leads, including Karen Reed's best friend who was supposed to have made contact by now.

Mark stretched his arms over his head and ran his fingers through his hair in exhaustion. He took a deep breath and clasped his hands under his chin. Finally after a long pause he said to Lisa, "Why don't you head home? It's been a long day."

She raised her chin, "You should do the same."

"I think I might try the friend again. What was her name?" he asked, scratching his forearm.

"Monica Sutherland." Lisa's eyes scanned upward at the clock on the wall above Mark's head. "It's after the dinner hour. You might have some luck if she's home."

"Give me the number." He stifled a yawn.

Thirty seconds later, she returned from her desk. Mark rose from his chair to meet her halfway. "You don't have to call her," Lisa said,

"She's here. She just walked in." Lisa's brows were raised in surprise. Mark peered over the filing cabinets and saw Monica standing by Lisa's desk.

"Send her in," he said, straightening his tie.

Monica wore a well-tailored pants suit, definitely custom fit but not from any fancy label. Her brown hair was well groomed and tucked back in a clip on either side of her face. She wore just enough mascara and lipstick to highlight her light features. She had recently whitened her teeth. Mark offered her a handshake and noticed she wore no expensive jewellery. Her handshake was firm.

Mark motioned her to the guest chair in front of him. "Please have a seat." She placed her handbag in the chair next to her.

He fidgeted with a pencil on his desk while she retrieved a business card out of her purse and handed it to him. The pencil was only about three inches long and had chew marks all over it.

"I apologize for not calling sooner. I just got back from my mother's place on Sunday and then immediately came down with the flu....or food poisoning. You never know with my mother's cooking," she said with a gentle giggle.

"I would have called first to make an appointment but my schedule is very much in disarray. I'm a realtor." She said, pointing at her business card. "I just showed a house two blocks from here and thought I would take my chances dropping in."

"No problem. What can you tell me about your relationship with Ms. Reed?" Mark asked, placing the card upright on his keyboard.

Monica spoke like she was being interviewed by a client. "Well, we met while she was working as a waitress at TGI Friday's. I think we were around twenty one or twenty two....I was the hostess. She was going through for her degree in University and I was working on my real estate license. We did a lot of things together and we even lived together for a while until she met up with Eddie, her husband. He died in a car accident a while back....but I'm sure you already know that." Monica paused.

"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 age 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.

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."

"Oh....Shit...Sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" Sarah asked.

"It's too early to drink."

***

Richard broke into Mark's office, breathless. "Hey...buddy...conference room in two..." Mark nodded and peeked over to see if Lisa was at her desk. She was gathering files and motioned for Mark to hurry.

As he approached her and took some of the files out of her hand she said, "The media circus is here. Larger than with Reed."

"Don't worry, we've got everything under control. I didn't see Lipkus." Sergeant Lipkus of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or F.B.I., one of Mark's superiors, would be working in conjunction with Mark and his crew now that it was a suspected serial killer they were dealing with.

"He should be here any minute, his secretary LouAnn called like twenty minutes ago saying he was on his way," Lisa said.

"I suppose after today we'll be graced with his cell number," Mark said facetiously. Lisa rolled her eyes in agreement.

Richard held the door open for Mark and Lisa as hundreds of members of the media took their seats. The room looked much different than it had during Mark's surprise welcome back party. There were about fifty wooden school type chairs arranged in a diamond like pattern in the centre. At the front were two large wooden tables arranged side by side lengthways, covered with a thick blue polyester tablecloth which puddled on to the floor below. The table was lined with five microphones evenly spaced apart. Andy sat at one and Richard was beside him. Charlie was at the opposite end and Mark assumed the remaining two centre microphones were for him and Sergeant Lipkus.

All the members of the media sat patiently, some fiddling with their cameras, others reviewing their rehearsed questions which they had written down on clipboards placed on their laps. A couple of the major television stations had a crew of cameramen with them. Those were easy to decipher since the reporters could be found touching up their makeup or straightening their ties. Everybody had been cautioned to remain seated until the Chief gave the nod for the questions to begin. If any member got out of hand, Constable Nelson, Noonan or Hobbs were right there to escort them out. Nelson stood erect like the other two officers. It was easy to tell it was him based on the obvious tremor in his leg.

Mark took his seat beside Charlie and saluted his coworkers. Lisa passed him all the files and sat off to the side. While they waited for Lipkus to arrive, Mark browsed the files in front of him. His eyes were so dry from lack of sleep that he almost couldn't read the print. None of his crew, himself included, had slept since Jacqueline Kent was murdered less than twenty four hours ago.

The door opened and Lipkus sauntered in like he was the guest star attending a movie opening and he was up for an Oscar. Mark took notice of his stature and stole a quick glance at Lisa. She wore the same look of disgust on her face as he did. Lisa's eyes met Mark's and they both exchanged a knowing look.

Lipkus took his seat next to Mark without cordially saluting the other officers present, who were standing out of respect for him. He didn't even look Lisa's way which she thought was so arrogant considering all the information she'd forwarded to him without thanks. Mark stood and offered his hand and Lipkus gave him a quick pump and said coolly, "Are we ready to start?" Mark nodded and gave Lisa an assuring nod. She rose and walked to the podium behind them.

"This meeting is about to begin. Raise your hand and wait to be called. One question at a time please, and keep your questions brief. Thank you." Lisa remained standing. All the media stood simultaneously and the noise sounded like a thunderous cloud had just clapped.

"You sir in front with the blue shirt," Lisa pointed.

The reporter briefly bowed a thank you to her and asked, "Chief Tame, can you tell us if you have in fact concluded that this is a serial killer?" He stood with his pen in hand like he was going to take Mark's dinner order. His cell phone lay on his chair and Lisa suspected he had it set to record sound. The lapel pin on his jacket had lettering which indicated he was from a radio station.

Mark responded, "We have not come to any conclusions at this time. However, we suspect it is serial based on the nature of the scene."

There was a rustle amongst the crowd as everyone raised their hands again. Lisa selected from the second row this time. The reporter had a camera man with her, who had the camera pointed towards the panel of speakers. "Sir, can you tell me when you will make that determination?"

"Once the scene and evidence has been processed to our liking we will determine the likelihood of this being a serial incident." As Lipkus spoke, the reporter gave him a puzzled look. She boldly interrupted his last word and asked. "And are you from the FBI, sir?" Lipkus was stung. He cocked his head to the side and retorted, "I see you're from WNYU. What is your name?" he demanded.

"Um Peggy Beck, sir," she said, almost in a whisper.

"Perhaps your superiors could send a more knowledgeable person to a press conference next time." She took her seat, cheeks ablaze and remained silent for the rest of the conference.

Lisa selected another reporter who addressed Mark. "Chief Tame, can you tell us if the gun used to murder Jacqueline Kent was the same murder weapon used to Kill Karen Reed?"

"There were no shell casings left at the first scene and we're still processing the second for ballistics. So far we've found none but we're hopeful."

Lisa chose a reporter from each aisle until she'd reached the end and questions started bleeding together. Mark gave her a nod and she ended the conference. It lasted ten minutes. The reporters were instructed to wait in their seats until all the officers filed out.

Mark rose from his seat and Lipkus gently took hold of his arm. "I want that couch ripped open. There's gotta be a shell casing somewhere. Nobody's that good."

Mark's face scrunched up slightly then he raised his eyebrows. "Charlie's on it I assure you."

Lipkus's head shook. "I've seen the reports from the Reed case. Unacceptable. Get it done or I'll send in my own crew and you're off the case."

Lipkus walked away, almost elbowing Richard. When both Mark and Richard exited the room, Richard turned to Mark and said, "Charlie better pray he does this one right or Lipkus will eat us alive." Mark looked behind at Charlie, making his way through with Lisa, carrying some of her files. He motioned to Charlie to come see him. They went to Mark's office.

"Hey buddy, listen. Lipkus is on a rampage with this case. We gotta band together on this one. Did all the evidence get thoroughly checked?" Charlie licked his lips and nodded affirmatively. "Is there any chance anything got overlooked?" Mark's voice was low and comforting as though he was Charlie's doctor and he was asking if he'd taken his medication.

"Yeah, everything's over at the lab right now. We're in good shape." Mark nodded his head and looked up at the clock. "Jesus, none of us have slept in almost thirty six hours."

Charlie's head bowed down as though he was ashamed. Mark noticed the change.

"Something wrong?" He asked, leaning his head down so he could see Charlie's expression.

Charlie's eyes met Mark's. "I need some time off."

Despite his fear, Mark asked, "Is it Madeline? How's she doing?"

Charlie pursed his lips and unconsciously bit his upper lip. "The cancer's spread. She's gotta start chemo again and the doctor's suspect it'll be worse this time. She can't handle things by herself."

Mark looked at Charlie as though he was going to offer advice and said, "Nor would anyone expect her to."

***

Shelley sent a text message to Sarah: 'I'm in class and they're about to start...where the hell r u????' she keyed in and hit send with frustration. After sitting her phone on top of her bag, she was about to turn around and bumped into a familiar looking man. "Oh geez....sorry about that," Shelley said as her face turned pink remembering Sarah's comment about him being a Leo-going in like a lion and coming out like a lamb.

"No problem, after you," he said, gesturing for her to go take her place first. As he gestured, Shelley noticed his lion tattoo again as his bicep lifted slightly. If he noticed her attention waver from his face to his arm, he didn't mention it.

"Oh no, I'm just waiting for my friend to respond," she said, motioning to her phone. "I'll be coming in when I hear back." The man with the tattoo nodded and continued walking. He lowered his yoga mat down and sat straight with his legs crossed and his arms resting on his knees. Shelley couldn't help but watch him. He had a thick head of dark brown hair kept short around the sides but longer on top. His eyes were deep brown and his face was boyish but mature. She guessed he was the cute preppy type in high school. He was lean and tall in stature and stood at least a foot taller than Shelley. He gracefully sat, which intrigued her. The muscles in his butt were shaped like an apple from the floor and his musculature led her to believe he did more than just yoga to keep in shape.

Finally her phone rang and her attention shifted focus as everyone turned around to look at her. She mouthed 'sorry' as she silenced the phone by picking it up. "Where the hell are you?" Shelley demanded in a hushed voice.

"I'm so sorry; I'm trying to find a parking spot down here. Did you notice the place is packed?"

"Well maybe you should have gotten here earlier!"

"Look, traffic was a bitch and I'm here aren't I?" Sarah continued "Do you see Michael there?"

"No, the room is packed and I didn't see him come in. I'll try to save you a spot." She flipped her phone shut and left her bag, carrying her mat as she tried to find a vacant place for it. As she scanned each row, the man with the lion tattoo motioned to her. 'Oh great' she said to herself 'that's the last thing I need. Sarah will have a field day'.

Despite her reluctance she took her spot beside the tattooed man. He said nothing but smiled briefly as he took the next pose. Shelley laid down her mat and started the routine with the rest. "I'm Matt." She heard him whisper. She looked over and the tattoo man smiled again.

"Shelley." She said.

They continued with the rest of the class and only managed to brush fingers once. Neither responded to the unexpected touch. During break time Matt walked away from Shelley without adieu to fill his water bottle; Shelley looked for Sarah to no avail. Checking her phone she realized why. Sarah had left a text message 'I found Michael. We're at the bar...sorry. Next time ' Shelley nodded her head and placed her phone back in the bag.

The second half of the class began. Everyone carried on gracefully as though there were only two people in the room: instructor and student. When the class was over, Shelley grabbed her bag and headed for the door, regretting ever mentioning yoga to Sarah. She went to use the washroom and check herself, meaning to shower and change when she got home. The door to the men's locker room was right beside the ladies room and as she exited, she saw Matt coming out ahead of her. He didn't turn around so Shelley took a moment to admire him. He had quickly showered and his hair was still damp. He had changed into long denim pants and a white t-shirt (one of Shelley's favourite combinations). She hastened her stride so she could continue walking behind him without him taking notice. When they were just about to the exit door he stopped dead in his tracks and Shelley had no choice but to stop. He turned around and was checking his bag like he had forgotten something.

"Oh pardon me," he said, shifting to the right so Shelley could pass. "We must stop meeting this way," he said with a gentle laugh. She smiled briefly and walked past him. "Your friend never showed." He observed. Shelley pointed her thumb up over her shoulder and answered "Yeah, she decided to go on a date instead."

He nodded, pulling out his locker key, which he must have forgotten to return. "That's not a bad idea." He said. "Do you feel like going for a drink?" he asked. Shelley's face went so red she thought she would go up in flames on the spot. Her smile was slightly too bright when she responded, "I'm really flattered. But I'm married. Thanks anyway."
Chapter 11

Shelley walked in the door and right away noticed how quiet the house was. It was almost 8:00pm and she hadn't heard from Mark all day. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and it appeared as though he had eaten the egg salad she'd made for tomorrow's lunch. Mark's diet didn't yet include eggs or mayonnaise, both of which were in the salad. Shelley shook her head in disappointment. When she went upstairs to shower she noticed Mark's phone sitting on her dressing table. It wasn't turned off but on silent mode. There were ten missed calls. Shelley assumed it was nothing that couldn't be addressed tomorrow.

She found Mark. The sheets were all askew, most no longer tucked in. His head was buried face down in her pillow while the rest of his body lay diagonally across the bed. She heard a muffled snoring. He inhaled briefly and coughed, turning himself over onto his back. He was naked.

The sheets were woven around his body in such a way that he looked like he was wearing a short skirt. His genitals were scantly covered. Shelley looked at his body laying there and stopped herself. Before Mark's heart attack she would have thought nothing of going over and sliding her body on top of his, waking him up in such a way that would delight both. She decided instead to take a shower and sleep in one of the girl's rooms. As she stood in the shower, part of her wished Mark would hear the water running, which would prompt him to join her in what used to be his favourite lovemaking place. She felt the water coursing over her body and fantasized about what Mark's hands and mouth would be doing in the places the water touched her. Her shower took a few minutes longer as she finishing pleasing herself, and then she took a bubble bath to ease her sore muscles. When she had dried off and was preparing herself for bed, she heard Mark get up and enter the washroom.

"Long day?" he asked while he stood at the toilet, relieving himself.

"Somewhat." She began to apply lotion to her legs.

"Need some help?" he asked, winking.

"No thanks, I'm done." She replied, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

She walked over to the bed and swiftly tucked some of the sheets back under the mattress and smoothed the bedspread. After flushing the toilet, Mark went to his side of the bed and entered at the same time as Shelley. As they lay there spooning, Mark was unusually quiet.

"Is everything okay?" Shelley asked. Mark took a moment to answer.

"Yeah. It's just so baffling."

"What is?" Shelley asked, turning over to face him.

"That lotion. The smell used to drive me crazy before."

"How do you mean?"

"Not just the lotion but that whole line of stuff you use. Do you remember? You used to be in the bathroom no more than five minutes and I was all over you." Mark shook his head.

Shelley brushed his hair with her hand. "All in time," she said.

"I'm not talking to you. You're not my favourite person right now." Shelley said to Sarah. She was driving to work and Sarah hadn't even called her from the previous night.

"Oh come on. I'm sorry. I was too damned sore to go last night anyway. Michael saw me limping into the centre and told me I was a fool if I went again. He said I should take it easy for a couple of days before going back." There was a pause. "I swear. I'm still icing my leg today. My arm is another story."

"Really? So what did you and Michael do last night?" Shelley ventured.

"We had one drink and I went home. He offered to come home and help me get into bed and I realized he was an asshole." Sarah's voice rose slightly with the second sentence.

"So that's why you didn't call me?" Shelley asked.

"Yes, I literally went home, took a muscle relaxer and passed out." There was another pause.

"Okay. I forgive you."

Sarah sighed. "So, how was class last night?"

"It was packed but good," Shelley said.

"Was that guy with the tattoo there?" Sarah asked casually.

"Yeah, I actually had to take my place next to him since on account of someone I know there were no spaces left."

Sarah said facetiously, "You're welcome." Shelley let out a quick laugh.

"So did you guys talk or exchange phone numbers or anything?" Sarah joked.

"No, but we introduced ourselves......um......and then he asked me for drinks."

Dead silence. Five seconds later Sarah yells "He WHAT???!!!" Then she started laughing. "Okay, you're funny...you go girl!!! That's a good one!!"

Shelley didn't respond.

***

Mark's line lit up and he glanced up at Lisa, who was sitting at her desk taking another call. She put one finger up in the air to signal Mark to wait a moment. The line rang once more before she spoke through his intercom. "It's Lipkus," she warned.

Mark pushed the line and Lipkus didn't wait for a greeting. "Did that couch get pulled apart yet? I want that damn shell casing."

"I'm sending a team out as we speak."

"Dammit Tame! How come it wasn't done yet? You've had well over twelve hours to get this done!" Mark could hear Lipkus's fist hit the desk.

"We've had to switch around our team slightly. It took some time to get everyone on track."

"What do you mean? You had to 'switch around' your team? I thought you had this all under control," Lipkus yelled. Mark wanted badly to maintain Charlie's discretion but he feared he could be removed from the case. This would leave Charlie even more vulnerable if any further mistakes were discovered. Charlie's job would be at stake and Mark wanted to protect him.

"Charlie's had to take a leave of absence," Mark said.

Lipkus was silent for a moment. Then he laughed. "I like you Tame. Pulling him off was the best decision you made."

"I didn't pull him off. He pulled himself off."

"Even better!"

"It's not what you think. His wife is dying of cancer. I told you I've got it under control." Lipkus said nothing.

"I'll be in touch," Mark said.

Mark looked up, not realizing Lisa was standing at his doorway. She gave him the thumbs up and took a few paces closer. "Poor Madeline. What can we do to help?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. What I do know is we gotta find that shell casing or my ass is on the line and so is Charlie's."

"But what if there isn't one? There wasn't one at the Reed scene?"

Mark thought for a moment. "Is Reed's house still vacant?"

Lisa nodded.

"Something tells me we need to have another look. Make sure nobody knows and I mean nobody. Richard and I will comb both scenes just to be sure. If anyone asks, we're meeting with witnesses."

"You got it." Lisa winked and then said quietly "Should we send Madeline flowers?"

Mark rose from his chair. "No, Charlie wanted discretion. I'd like to respect that."

Lisa nodded again. Richard walked by and stuck his head in Mark's door.

"The team's all assembled and ready to go to the scene."

"Great. You want to come with me?" Mark motioned for him to close the door behind Lisa.

Richard leaned in. "What's up?"

"Big problems. Lipkus is up my ass about the bullet. We gotta go back to Reed's place and have another look."

Richard furrowed his brows. "What's on your mind? Did Charlie miss something?"

As much as Mark was battling with Charlie's discretion, he also wanted to maintain his good friend's honour.

"Charlie's been under an unprecedented amount of strain lately and it doesn't look like it's getting better."

"Is that why he left?"

Mark nodded. "Madeline's got cancer. It doesn't look good for her. He doesn't want a soul to know though. Just the three of us and that's it and even Charlie doesn't know about that."

Richard's face dropped almost to a frown. "Jesus Christ. No wonder Charlie's been so out of sorts lately. I've never seen him like this. What can we do to help?"

"Find that bullet or make damn sure there isn't one at both places."

"You got it." Richard nodded.

***

"So let me make it up to you," Sarah said.

"Na, there's no need. I get it," Shelley said.

"Come on, I'm here now. Let's go shopping."

"Is Vera looking after the shop?"

"Yeah, and Dan our artist is there today too, so I'm all yours," Sarah said, opening her arms for emphasis. It was Shelley's early day and she had just arrived home. Sarah was waiting in her car to surprise her.

"Okay, come on in and let me change my shoes," Shelley said, looking down at her loafers.

"Sure. I've got my running shoes in the car. I'll change and meet you back. We'll take my car?" Sarah said.

Shelley nodded "OK."

"So how's things with Mark's diet? Is he sticking to it?" Sarah asked, switching the gear to drive.

"Ah. He's doing okay I guess. He ate my egg salad the other night," she admitted.

"Uh oh." Sarah laughed. "Well, if that's all he's doing wrong then I suppose it's forgivable right?"

Shelley nodded. "He's working crazy hours again too. So far not much has changed since the heart attack. Well....."

"Well what? What else has changed?" Sarah was looking towards Shelley as she checked the passenger side mirror to change lanes. She peeped her head down further to judge Shelley's facial expression.

"We still haven't had sex," Shelley said as though she had just told Sarah her favourite pet died.

"Oh my," Sarah said quickly.

"Yeah. It's killing me."

"I bet." Sarah nodded.

"Have you ever considered getting yourself a little friend?" Sarah asked as if it was a secret.

"Like what kind of little friend? One with batteries or one that has to take me to dinner first?" Shelley laughed.

Sarah laughed. "Either." Shelley slapped her with her purse. "Are you kidding?"

"Well you have to do something. I mean, you can't survive like that forever. I even have friends." Sarah pointed to herself. Shelley thought for a moment.

"Come on. Let's hit the Love Shop."

Shelley looked at Sarah and slowly shook her head from side to side. "Oh...I don't know....what would Mark say?"

"Well, he knows he can't get it up, right?" Sarah said bluntly.

"Yeah, but isn't that kind of throwing it in his face?"

"Well my dear, if he ever found out about it, you could say you were keeping it to spice things up, couldn't you?"

"I don't know. Can't we just go buy some sexy lingerie instead?" Shelley suggested.

Sarah thought for a second. Then relented. "Sure, lingerie is good, too. It sure beats that nasty thing you wear to bed now. Do you still wear that scanky t-shirt Mark bought you for your anniversary?"

Shelley laughed, remembering what she did the day she threw that away. "No, that's long gone."

Sarah scoffed. "Thank God. I was going to say it's no wonder Mark won't do you anymore wearing that thing."

Shelley was silent but thought to herself girl, you have no idea.

***

"What do you like, pink or red?" Sarah said, holding up the sluttiest looking teddy she could find in the store.

Shelley was skimming through another rack of white cashmere night dresses and looked up. "For you or for me?" she asked incredulously.

"Um....for you?" Sarah answered slowly.

Shelley shook her head emphatically. "Absolutely not. Are those holes for your nipples?" She asked with her hand in front of her face, like the teddy was the plague.

"Yeah, and the slit here is for your.....well....so he doesn't have to....you know." Sarah's hands were gesturing in a forward circle as if to say 'come on.'

"Sorry, but my old shirt is sexier than that." Shelley laughed.

Suddenly Sarah lowered the teddy which revealed the surprised look on her face. She took a step closer to Shelley and said under her breath. "Don't look now, but isn't that tattoo guy walking outside?" Her head gestured toward the store window which had a clear view of the glass elevator.

Shelley looked quickly and turned towards Sarah, so her face was away from the window. "Yes, it is," she said with embarrassment.

"Oh geez. I think he's coming in," Sarah said. Shelley quickly made a beeline to the change rooms.

Sarah laughed and grabbed her arm. "I was just kidding. He's waiting for the elevator."

Shelley turned around and once again smacked Sarah with her purse. They continued perusing the racks for a few minutes when Sarah said, "He's still there. Wow, is he hot or what?"

He was standing by the elevators, keying something into his cell phone. "I wonder if he'll be at yoga again tonight," Sarah said, watching him.

"Quit staring. And it's not like you care. You won't be there will you?" Shelley asked.

"I have some incentive now," she said seductively.

"Ha. And your big ass wasn't enough incentive?"

Sarah took her purse and returned the smack she received earlier.

"Okay, I've had enough of this place. I can't find anything that I'd wear in front of my husband. This should be called 'The Slut Shop'. I need something more tasteful that leaves something to the imagination," Shelley said.

"Yeah, me too. The question is, how do we get out of here without tattoo guy seeing us?" Sarah asked, nodding toward him.

"Well, his name is Matt, and we don't have to hide out. Unless he looks our way he won't be able to tell where we came from. Don't be such a baby," Shelley said, gently grabbing Sarah's arm.

"Oooo, so you're on a first name basis are you?" she teased.

Shelley sighed. "It's no wonder you're still single. You're still such a baby. Come on." She tugged Sarah's arm as they exited the store.

Matt didn't look up and the girls passed him without notice. "Do you want to go downstairs? There isn't anything else up here except the food court, kids stores and a wedding boutique. Funny how that happened. You can get your scanky clothes, get married and pop out a kid while you eat, in whatever order you like."

"Sure, the stairs are just over here." Shelley nodded towards a staircase that had yellow caution tape woven around it. "Oh great. We can either take the elevator with....Matt.....or walk the other way and take the other flight of stairs."

"We'll head to the elevator. If Matt's gone we'll take it and if he's still there we'll skip through to the other stairs."

"Hmmm.....quite the strategist."

"Oh shut it." Shelley said, elbowing her.

As luck would have it, Matt was still standing by the elevator on his phone. Just as they thought they would escape unnoticed, he looked up and smiled as they passed him.

"Good afternoon," he said cordially and nodded to both girls. His elbow rested on the railing that met the elevator and he leaned into it with one foot resting on the other.

Both girls said hello and he stood up tall, "Hello." He said, addressing both girls. "Enjoying yoga class?"

"Very much," Shelley answered.

"Still recovering," Sarah said.

"The best way to recover is to keep going," Matt said matter-of-factly.

"That's what I told her," Shelley said as if to say 'I told you so.'

Sarah blushed and looked towards the elevator.

"So, will you girls be there tonight?"

"I will be," Shelley said.

"I'll think about it," Sarah admitted.

The elevator door opened and Matt said to Shelley, "I'll look forward to seeing you there." When he walked away he held Shelley's gaze a moment too long.

As he stood in the elevator waiting for the door to close he smiled at both girls and waved.

"Okay, I believe you," Sarah said.

"Believe what?"

"He did ask you out didn't he?"

Shelley's brows lifted. "That's what I told you." In the same tone she used moments ago.

"Girl, are you in some trouble now!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Did you see the way he looked at you?" Sarah's eyes went from the elevator back to Shelley, as though Matt was still standing there.

Shelley waved her off, "Why does that mean I'm in trouble?"

"Well maybe not trouble, but your life is about to get much more interesting."

"What are you suggesting?" Her arms folded in front of her, she took the bait.

"Well, when was the last time someone had the hots for you?" Sarah smirked.

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, what is this, high school? I'm a married woman, which by the way Matt knows because I told him."

Sarah was about to argue when Shelley interrupted. "And another thing. You are a bad influence." Shelley's finger was pointing at Sarah and she had half a smile.

Sarah walked toward the railing where the elevator was emptying below them. She watched Matt exit the elevator. Shelley stood beside her. Both girls had a nice view of his behind and as such remained silent as he strolled slowly away.

Sarah sighed. "He does have a nice tattoo."

Shelley nodded. "And a really nice bum." Sarah looked at Shelley in disbelief and put her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Without looking at Sarah, Shelley said, "Oh shut up. It's been a while."
Chapter 12

Mark and Richard shared a patrol car on the way to Karen Reed's house. The weather was turbulent. Thrashing winds and some late November flurries were beginning to pepper their way into the atmosphere. It was cold and damp. Both men wore their winter jackets and were comforted by the extra warmth their vests provided. Mark kept his phone at close range on the console, awaiting a call from Lipkus. Just as he expected, it rang, but he was relieved to see that it was Lisa transferring a call to him, therefore it would not be Lipkus without warning. Mark greeted his caller and was pleasantly surprised to discover it was Monica Sutherland, Karen Reed's friend.

"Good morning Chief. I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I just had a couple of things I wanted to tell you. I hope it isn't a bad time."

"No not at all. Although I do have you on speaker phone as I'm driving. My partner Richard with me. Is that okay?" Mark looked up at Richard, who was sipping his coffee casually.

"Sure. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I was cleaning up my Facebook site yesterday. I just don't have the time to go on social media sites for personal use given I spend so much time promoting myself professionally."

"Okay." Mark furrowed his brows, wondering if the conversation was relevant.

"Well, I found a picture of Karen that I'd forgotten about. It wasn't actually a picture I took, but I was tagged in it since it was taken at a party I threw six months ago after closing my biggest sale."

Mark nodded. "Go on."

"The picture isn't terribly clear and Karen is not the focus of the shot. All of my colleagues and some of my friends were there. But when I pulled it up and had a closer look at the picture I noticed something strange."

"I'm listening." Mark said, growing a little impatient.

"Well, I threw the party at my place and therefore hired all the caterers, etc. So I knew everyone who attended. In the picture, Karen is looking at someone I don't recognize. It's a man."

"Do you get a clear shot of the guy?" Mark asked.

"It's from far away, but I'm sure you guys have equipment you could use to enlarge it?" Monica ventured.

"Yes we do. Can you bring the picture to my office or email it?"

"I can do both. Um, there is one more thing."

"Yes," Mark said, turning into Karen Reed's driveway.

"Her mother called me. Expect her to be calling you any minute. She's mad enough to spit fire. I just thought I'd warn you."

***

The caution tape had been removed and the only evidence of any wrongdoing at Karen Reed's house was the tire track residue from all the patrol cars and crime scene investigation vans that were parked all over her front lawn and driveway. Her front lawn resembled an abandoned camp site. There hadn't been much rainfall since her murder and none of the marks had been removed. Some would be permanent due to the damp fall and heavy loads on the grass.

Mark retrieved the spare key he had taken from Charlie's desk and unlocked the front door. They entered the house and were relieved to see that it had been cleaned of all blood.

"Well that's more like it," Richard said, breathing in the clean air in contrast to the stench of human rot they smelled with their last visit.

Exasperated, Mark said, "The place is a ghost town. There can't be anything left."

"It didn't take mommy dearest long," Richard replied, placing a piece of sugar free gum in his mouth.

"Well her husband is dead so I guess that's who has all her stuff."

"Maybe Lisa can hold her off for a bit," Richard said, "But she'll wonder what we've been doing. We should take a quick look and get back to the office before she suspects anything. The last thing we need is for her to talk to the press," Richard said, scratching his head nervously.

"The only place I want to look is her bedroom. Let's go." Mark nodded toward the bedroom and they both headed there. The room was empty and all that could be seen were track marks from a recent vacuuming. Mark shook his head.

"Jesus. We better hope Charlie's crew got everything. If not we're sunk. Mrs. Masterson would be the last person to understand Charlie's troubles."

"Not the average June Cleaver, huh."

Mark half laughed. "No, she tore my head off for not calling her. She definitely wasn't broken hearted over losing her daughter."

"Well then we better head her off and call her first. Don't give her the satisfaction," Richard advised.

***

On the drive back to the office, Mark's phone chimed in a text message. It was Shelley. 'Going to Yoga tonight. Will I see you for dinner?' Mark grimaced and keyed in 'Probably not babe. Long day ahead. Catch up with you later. Love you '

Shelley returned the sentiments and Lisa chimed in 'Masterson left a message on vmail. What should I tell her?' Mark explained they were pulling up at that moment.

Mark entered the office and Lisa gave him a warning look. "She's pissed."

"I know. Monica Sutherland is emailing a picture. It will need to be enlarged. Get a good look at the guy in it and see if his face matches anyone on file." Lisa nodded and handed him Martha Masterson's number.

Mark asked, "What did she say on the message?"

"Nothing except that she better get a call back promptly."

Mark nodded as he opened his office door and let Richard enter.

"There's one more thing," Lisa said and paused. Mark turned around.

Lisa's voice lowered. "Andy's on the phone with Charlie." Her frown told him what he said. Mark lowered his head and nodded. He closed the door behind him.

Richard sat on the visitor's chair perusing the Reed file. He held the picture of her sitting on the park bench. His eyes carefully scanned the blue bracelet.

"What's on your mind?" Mark asked, removing his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair.

Richard nodded. "Nothing. I am to jewelry what a mechanic is to purses."

"Hm. Shelley can kick Martha Stewart's ass and still fix the dishwasher with that handy tool she has," Mark said matter-of-factly.

Richard stuck his tongue out halfway and raspberried while Mark dialled Martha's number.

"I'd sooner call Martha Stewart than this one."

Richard half laughed.

Martha answered on the second ring. Mark looked up at the clock. It was 1:45pm and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Masterson. This is Chief Tame returning your call."

"Well thank you for calling, sir. I do appreciate you taking the time," her voice was cold.

"It's my pleasure. What can I do for you?" As he said that, Richard's eyebrows lifted. Mark quickly waved his head from side to side.

"I've arranged to have my daughter's house vacated and I am currently in possession of all her belongings."

"Yes." Mark was curious why she was providing this update.

Martha's voice raised a decibel and her tone became harsh. "I don't know what kind of investigation you people did but I can assure you it was completely unacceptable."

Mark's heart began to beat faster. He cleared his throat. "Um..what do you mean Mrs. Masterson? Did you find something?" Richard's eyes widened and he could see the colour in Mark's face fade.

Martha took in a deep breath as though she was preparing to blow up a balloon. She spat, "As a matter of fact I did. Did you people even look through any of her things?" She paused.

"Yes, we did Mrs. Masterson. Everything was done to protocol." Mark lied. He knew she wouldn't hear anything less.

"Well I can tell you your murderer had quite a sense of humour, one which I for one don't appreciate."

"What do you mean ma'am?" Mark asked, swallowing and feeling a bead of sweat slither between his shoulder blades.

"I know it probably seemed like a lot of work for your people to go through all the shoeboxes full of old jewelry cases that my daughter had. But had they done their job correctly they would have found your evidence," Martha proclaimed, satisfied.

"Yes, I was told Karen had a lot of jewelry, mostly in cases." Mark confirmed, remembering the pile he went through personally.

"Well, I went through all the little boxes that were in her closet, in all the shoeboxes and storage containers and I found a ring box with a bullet casing in it."

Mark's fist punched the desk and his eyes closed tightly. Richard looked at him imploringly.

"Did you get any fingerprints on it?"

"Of course not! I didn't touch the thing! I don't believe in guns and I refuse to have them or any evidence of them in my house!" she said exasperated.

"Can you bag everything and courier it to me right away? I'll give you our account number and reimburse you for fuel," Mark said.

"Well that's the problem, Chief."

Mark was afraid to ask. "What is the problem?"

Then she rounded on him. "I have been inundated with calls from the press, night and day. Now I know you are protected from the media and all their shenanigans over there in your little office and all. But I live in a small town and word gets around fast. My front lawn has practically been a camp site for all the paparazzi waiting for information about my daughter. It has only gotten worse since you people declared it a serial murderer. You people have done nothing to protect me and to keep me abreast of updates on the investigation and I've been victim to constant harassment. Well, I had enough of it. Yesterday when the moving van came with all Karen's things I made a deal with them: they were to leave me alone for the day while I organized everything and I would give them any information that I found."

Mark suddenly felt nauseated and scratched on his pad quickly so Richard could read what Martha had been saying. It was as if someone had wiped their hand over Richard's face.

Mark took a deep breath. "Where is it now ma'am?" he asked, knowing full well what she had done with it.

"Well, I wasn't having that in my house so I gave it to one of the members of the media. A nice lady, young and new to the industry. She was looking for a break and I gave it to her," she said proudly.

Mark nodded. "Thank you ma'am. Would you please inform me first should you find anything else?"

Martha half laughed. "I certainly hope I don't, but if I do I will be sending it to your superior!"

Mark heard the phone click and he exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

Lisa's face pressed up against the window. He knew there was another call waiting for him and judging by Lisa's face, he knew who it was.

***

Lisa entered, closing the door behind her. Mark had risen in his chair with his hands on his face, as though he was trying to wipe the misery away.

He slammed his fist down again and grunted "Fuck!" Lisa knew this was bad. Mark was never one to swear.

Mark looked apologetically at Lisa for his foul language and she motioned her hand downward. She wasn't offended.

"I've got Peggy Beck from WNYU holding. Apparently she's got something you might be interested in."

Mark's face brightened slightly. "You mean it's not Lipkus on the phone?"

Lisa shook her head. "Put it through," Mark said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Lisa took five paces and pressed the transfer button on her phone.

"Hello Ms. Beck, this is Chief Tame."

"Good afternoon, sir. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, not at all. I just hung up with Mrs. Masterson. She explained that you have some evidence in your possession?"

"Um. Yes, that's right." Mark and Peggy discussed logistics, and then Mark reminded her of the publication ban.

"Yes, sir, I understand. But will that be lifted once you have a suspect?"

"That is definite. We will need widespread media coverage to find the suspect once one is determined."

"How close are you to finding one at this point?"

"We may have a person of interest later today, which we'll need coverage for as well. I take it you're interested in covering that story?"

"Yes sir, very much so. After Sergeant Lipkus humiliated me during the last media conference, I took nothing back to my boss. I've only been on the job a month. My butt is on the line now."

Mark chuckled. "No worries Ms. Beck-"

Peggy interrupted, "Please, call me Peggy."

"You bring me the evidence, Peggy, and I'll make sure you are the first to know who this person of interest is, okay? But NO leaks," Mark emphasized.

"Absolutely, sir, I promise."

Mark hung up the phone and looked at Richard. They exchanged knowing glances.

Richard broke the silence. "So how do we deal with Lipkus on this? He's gonna know the minute that bullet gets processed."

Mark looked at Richard and frowned. "To hell with Lipkus. What the hell are we going to tell Charlie?"
Chapter 13

When Shelley arrived at the community center, she found Sarah's car parked close to the entrance. They met up on the corner sidewalk where bikes were kept. As they proceeded up the walkway they heard a car horn toot. It was Matt. He smiled at both of them.

"Hi ladies. I'm running so late. Would you mind saving me a spot?" he asked with a wink.

Shelley waved him off. "Sure." Matt smiled and drove away.

"Oooo. Looks like someone will be close to you tonight!" Sarah teased.

"Oh, would you grow up!" Shelley smacked her gently in the butt with her bag.

They went into the entrance and saw that the place was packed. There seemed to be a commotion going on over by the yoga studio and Shelley and Sarah headed in that direction to see what the fuss was all about.

The sign said 'Yoga class cancelled for tonight. Sorry for the inconvenience.'

"Oh crap!" Shelley said, frustrated.

"Oh well." Sarah giggled, clearly pleased.

"Yeah right." Shelley wasn't convinced.

"Seriously. I was looking forward to this."

"You're such a bad liar," Shelley scoffed.

Suddenly Matt was behind them. "What's the problem? No yoga?" He asked, putting his arms around the girls so he could read the sign from between them. When he released them they both looked at each other like school girls.

"Well, what do you say I buy you both a drink then?" Matt suggested.

Sarah looked at Shelley with an "I'm in" look on her face.

Shelley reluctantly shook her head and said, "It's either that or go home and clean."

"Drinking it is!" Sarah proclaimed.

***

They decided to revisit the same bar they had gone to previously, although this time they used a taxi service on Sarah's suggestion.

"Why do we need a cab? We're only going for a drink or two?" Shelley asked while Sarah called the cab company.

Sarah gave her a knowing look. "Do you remember what happened last time? I had to pour you into your house and I don't think Mark has forgiven me yet."

Shelley rolled her eyes. Matt saw a cab in the distance heading into the parking lot. He hailed him over. Sarah was still on hold and was relieved to press the hang up button.

Shelley felt strange sitting in the cab. She knew nothing about this man and wasn't sure if he felt any attraction to Sarah. It made her slightly uncomfortable wondering if he was still planning to make a pass despite her being married. He seemed harmless enough; he had a trusting face, the type that might appear on the cover of a boy band CD. Since he sat up front with the cab driver, she trusted he had no ulterior motives.

The bar was only a few minutes away from the community centre and there was little conversation on the way. Sarah and Shelley kept exchanging girlish glances at one another. Shelley felt compelled to take out her cell phone and begin texting Sarah in the back of the cab to see what she was thinking. She would have paid a million dollars at that moment to know.

When they arrived at the bar, Matt paid for the ride and hurried himself out of the taxi so he could open the door for the girls. Shelley returned his smile as he opened her side first and she wondered if it was a random decision. Sarah exited the cab while he rushed over to hold the door open for Shelley as she entered the bar.

They chose a table close to the bar, almost in the middle of the room. The ambience was slightly dark, somewhat romantic with soft lighting at each table and a disco ball directly above them illuminating in a random pattern. There were mirrors flanking the upper half of each wall, which helped add lighting and give the illusion of depth. At each table stood a vase beside a paper lamp. The vase held a small flower arrangement. Sarah touched the flowers and confirmed they were silk.

Each round table had seating for four. Matt arranged the chairs so they could all sit together, leaving a single chair for the girls' handbags. Shelley offered Sarah the chair beside Matt and she winked a thank you in response.

Sarah wasted no time. "So I couldn't help but notice your tattoo. Where did you get it done?"

Matt looked at his right bicep and grabbed some of the skin to get a closer look, as though he'd never seen the tattoo before.

"Oh this? I got that a couple years ago. Went to Vegas with a friend and got really drunk. It was done on a dare. Thankfully it was a nice job. I don't regret it."

"So you're a Leo then?" Sarah asked, touching the tattoo seductively.

Matt hesitated, taking note of her touch, said, "Yes, I am."

Shelley rolled her eyes and was thankful the waitress arrived with the drinks. She took her wine without offering to pass Sarah hers and took a large gulp.

After Matt retrieved his beer he took his wallet out of his pocket and paid for the drinks. He looked over at Shelley as Sarah took a small sip and asked, "How's the wine?"

Sarah was about to answer when she noticed Matt's eye contact with Shelley. "I've had better and worse," Shelley answered casually and then took another sip.

"Would you like something else?" He offered and began to raise his hand to hail down the waitress. Shelley shook her head while swallowing and said, "No, no, it's fine. Really."

Sarah sneered, realizing Matt hadn't asked how her wine was. Shelley caught the look and furrowed her brows. Sarah ignored the questioning glance and instead ordered another wine and excused herself to go to the ladies' room. Shelley followed.

"Is there something wrong?" Shelley asked, catching the metal door before it slammed in her face, Sarah didn't bother to hold it open for her.

"No, nothing's wrong," Sarah replied, a hint of anger in her voice.

"Bullshit! You're behaving like a child! Let's have it!"

Sarah quickly checked the stalls to see if they had company and then lowered her voice.

"He likes you."

Shelley recoiled. "Whether he does or not is irrelevant," she said, jamming her wedding ring finger in Sarah's face. She suddenly felt the effects of the wine and had no trouble responding to Sarah.

"That's not the point!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Okay, then what is?" Shelley's hands were on her waist and their faces nearly met.

"I'm not used to this."

"Used to what?" Shelley asked, returning to her normal tone.

"You....suddenly being....I don't know.....a competitor." Sarah struggled to find the words. Her hand motioned up and down Shelley's body as if she was introducing her as Bob Barker's showcase showdown prize.

"What do you mean? I'm not competing with you!" Shelley said in exasperation.

"Well...I know you're not competing....at least not intentionally."

Shelley waited while Sarah licked her lips and shook her head.

"I feel like if I make a play for him, that I'm...well, first of all....going to lose, since he likes you....and, second of all.....stepping on your turf. It's been years since I felt like I had to check with you before going for a guy."

Shelley laughed. "Oh my god! That is so ridiculous!" She bent over and grabbed her crotch so she wouldn't wet herself, leaning on Sarah with her other hand.

"What is so funny?" Sarah half laughed.

"You! This!" Shelley was still laughing, letting go of her crotch.

"Oh please!" Sarah scoffed. "I saw the way you drooled when you watched his ass the other day. And you admitted you haven't been laid in a while. How do I know you don't wanna hop in the sack with this guy?" Sarah removed Shelley's hand from her shoulder with a smack.

"Oh stop it!" Shelley couldn't catch her breath from laughter. "You're killing me!" Her face was red and there were tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I'm gonna wet my pants if you say any more!" she said as she stumbled into the stall beside Sarah.

Sarah waited until Shelley came out and joined her at the sink. "So you've never thought about it?"

Shelley finished washing her hands and walked to the hand dryer. "Thought about what?"

"I know this is crazy, and totally out of character for you. But, what if Mark can't ever...you know...and Matt or anyone else should offer? You wouldn't think about it?"

Thankful she'd already had some wine, Shelley answered hesitantly. "I've never thought about being with anyone else, no. I've only ever thought about Mark whether I'm with him or alone." She paused, searching for more words.

Digesting the information, Sarah picked up on something and brightened. "What do you mean alone? You mean you've......?" Sarah put one hand on her breast and the other at her crotch and mimicked masturbating. Then she smiled and nodded, encouraging Shelley to confess.

Shelley turned red and half smiled. "Well, yes.....I told you it's been a while."

Sarah's mouth opened wide and she gasped, then she looked down, "Not so vanilla any more are we?"

***

Matt rose as the girls returned, but at the same time he gave them a concerned look.

"Everything ok?" He asked, pulling out Shelley's chair for her. As Matt's back turned, Sarah slid a glance Shelley's way.

"Oh yeah, you know women...we take forever in the bathroom." Sarah commented.

"I've heard of that." He smiled.

"I took the liberty of ordering another drink for you both. I hope that's ok."

"Bottoms up," Sarah said, clinking her glass with Shelley's and Matt's.

Shelley swallowed as though she had just ingested syrup. "Whew! That's my last glass."

Sarah leaned toward Matt, "She can't handle her liquor."

Matt smiled again. "Do you ladies come here often?"

"Not as much as we'd like." Sarah laughed, clinking her glass against Shelley's again.

"Oh no, you're just the bad influence here. I drink very casually," Shelley declared matter-of-factly.

"I didn't take you for a drinker. You seem very in tune with your body. You know what it needs," Matt said in support.

"I do try to take care of myself. I'm trying to encourage others," she said, passing a guilty look at Sarah.

"That's what I like in a woman," he said with a gentle pat on her back.

Sarah was irritated. She looked directly at Matt and asked bluntly, "So how come you're still single?"

He seemed to have expected the question, "It's my choice," he answered flatly.

"Have you been married before?" she continued.

"Never."

"Dated many women?"

"That depends on your definition of many." Sarah pondered a moment, taking a sip of wine.

"How many men have you dated?" Matt asked boldly.

Sarah looked at him like he had one too many sets of balls. "That's none of your business."

"It's a fair question. You asked me the same."

"It isn't gentlemanly to ask a lady that."

Matt smiled. "Forgive me. I don't mean to offend."

Shelley's phone suddenly beeped. Mark was leaving her a text message. She reached over beside Sarah and took her phone out of her purse. 'Be home super late babe. Don't wait up.' She responded 'Don't work too hard. Love you.'

"Was that your husband?" Matt asked.

"Yes. He's working late," she said, the disappointment registered on her face.

"Well, it looks like a dance is about to start. Are you girls interested in sticking around?" Matt offered, noticing the DJ setting up.

"It looks like they're about to rearrange and boot us out of our table anyway. Shall we go closer to the bar?"

"Guys....I don't know about this.....I'm sorry but this is too weird," Shelley admitted.

Sarah had a smirk on her face. She wondered how long Shelley would stick to this scenario.

"What is weird? We're just having a drink and filling time since Yoga was cancelled." Matt's hands were outstretched and his eyebrows lifted slightly. "Did you tell your husband where you were?"

"No."

"Why not?" Matt asked, half laughing, like her admission was ridiculous.

"I will later. It's no big deal."

"Well then....stay," Matt said earnestly.

"He's right Shelley. I mean, what's the big deal? I'm with you," Sarah interjected.

The waitress approached and asked them to change seats so they could clear space for the dance area. Shelley looked at her watch as they rose. It was only 8:30pm.

Her head felt light as she stood, trying to make up her mind. The room was fuzzy and her focus blurred. She suddenly realized her attack of conscience was silly and waved Sarah's comment away.

"Fine," she said, as though Sarah asked for the last piece of pizza.

Matt looked pleased. He led them to a table by the bar and strategically moved two chairs out at the same time to accommodate both girls simultaneously.

"Can I get you another drink?" Matt offered.

"Just water please."

He looked over at Sarah, who was finishing the last of her wine.

"No, I'm okay for now. But now I really must go to the washroom."

"Okay." Matt laughed.

Sarah walked away and Matt turned back to Shelley, who was helping herself to some beer nuts at the bar. "Tiny bladder?" he asked with his head pointing towards the ladies room.

"No, she didn't go before....girl talk." She explained, scrunching up her nose.

Matt nodded and motioned to the bartender to bring him another beer.

"I take it you really don't drink very often, do you?"

"I had a few last week with Sarah and she's right. I can't handle my alcohol."

"I'd say. You've only had two glasses of wine and you look like you're ready for bed."

Shelley guffawed. "I've also had a long day at work and I was up early this morning."

"What do you do?" Matt asked as the bartender delivered his beer.

"I'm a teacher. What about you?"

"I'm actually a student at the moment. The plant I used to work for shut down and the government offered me funds to train in a related field."

"Oh yeah? What are you studying?"

"I'm taking engineering. I've seen so much of it that the degree is just a technicality, but they won't give me a job unless I've got the credentials."

"Impressive." Shelley nodded.

"What does Sarah do?"

"She owns a jewelry store downtown." The bartender brought her a bottle of water and she took a long sip. Matt waited until she finished.

"So it looks like she has a thing for me. Am I right?" Matt's head motioned towards the bathroom again.

"Yep. But you know you've pissed her off right?"

"I never would have guessed. But I don't get it. What did I do?"

"It's not what you've done, it's what you haven't."

Matt furrowed his brows and turned his body towards Shelley's.

"You're not sending her any signals."

"Really? Who am I sending signals to?" he asked.

"Me. And I'm married, so that pisses her off."

"Ah. She doesn't like a challenge. I'm completely opposite."

Shelley looked straight at him. "So that's why you are sending me signals? Because you know I'm married and you can't have me?"

"No. I'm sending you signals because you're beautiful, smart and know what you want. A woman like you doesn't come along every day. The fact that you're married doesn't bother me. Like I said, you know what you want."

Shelley didn't know whether that was a yes or no. She was too tired to argue and Sarah was on her way back so she thought it best to drop the subject.

"You know what guys, I'm too tired to dance. I'm gonna head home."

"I'll call you a cab," Matt offered.

The bartender overheard and explained that there were phones at the entrance with a straight line to the local cab company.

"I'll walk you out," Matt said. Sarah's eyebrows lifted and she waited for Shelley to give eye contact.

"Thanks Matt, but I'd like a word with Sarah before I head home if it's all the same to you."

Matt bowed his head in assent. "I'll see you later then."

Sarah followed Shelley to the entrance. "Oh look, there's a cab right there." Sarah observed as two people exited the vehicle.

"Oh wow, I forgot my purse!" Shelley exclaimed as she felt her shoulder for the strap.

"I'll run in and get it," Sarah said as she trotted back into the bar.

"Where you headed?" The cab driver asked, sticking his head out the window.

"Just up the street. Five minutes." She gave him the address and he punched it into the gps.

Shelley stood outside the cab waiting for Sarah to return when suddenly Matt ran out with her purse in his hand and a smile on his face.

"Her shoe broke." He laughed. "She's trying to fix it so she doesn't kill herself," He explained, handing her purse to her.

"Did she fall? Is she okay?"

"She's totally fine. The bottom part let go of the top part. Essentially they're flip flops now," he said with his eyes affixed on her neck.

She looked down while placing her fingers at her neck. Matt came closer and put his hands on her waist. When her head lifted, he was nose to nose with her. Before she could think about it, he gave her a soft kiss on the lips. She had no room to recoil and wasn't sure she wanted to, but even if she did she was pressed up against the cab.

Her face registered confusion. "Just doing what the necklace said," He explained, pointing at her neck.

He let go of her waist and walked back a step. "See you later."

Shelley swallowed and watched as he walked back into the bar. She was stunned. The moment lingered in her mind for a moment as Matt disappeared. Sarah suddenly appeared at the doorway, holding her broken shoe in one hand and her purse in the other.

"It looks like I'll make the worst dance partner. Mind if I hitch a ride with you?" She asked, hobbling with uneven footsteps.

"Sh...sure."

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Shelley blinked and waved her head from side to side. "No, I'm fine. Just tired."

Chapter 14

Andy hung up the phone just as Mark approached. He took a seat in the chair beside the desk and leaned in as if he was about to tell Andy a secret.

"How's everything with Charlie?" Mark said with his voice lowered.

Andy sighed and raised his eyebrows, shaking his head slowly as he exhaled. "Things are not looking good. She's in the hospital now indefinitely, too weak to handle more chemotherapy. Charlie's a mess." Then he made a fist and put it in front of his mouth as though he needed to clear his throat. "The man cried on the phone." Andy's eyes met Mark's. "I've never heard another man cry except my father when I was a kid." He shook his head and Mark gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder in exchange for words.

"We've got a problem," Mark said, scratching his nose and running his fingers through his hair nervously. Andy looked up as if to say 'well what else could go wrong?'

"A bullet casing was found. Not by Charlie's crew."

"Oh shit." The colour drained from Andy's face.

"Yeah. Reed's mother found it in with her stuff."

Andy leaned his head back and closed his eyes tightly. "Jesus Christ. And she's a real bitch, too." Andy knew because he had taken some calls from her when Mark wasn't available.

"That's not the worst part." Andy's eyes widened.

"She gave it to someone real green over at WNYU radio station."

"Holy fuck." Andy's head shook from side to side slowly. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"Well luckily it was the lady Lipkus snubbed at the conference so she's on our side." Mark noted how odd that sounded considering he was working with Lipkus on these cases. "I've made a deal with her and she's on her way now with the evidence."

"Is there any more good news?"

"Actually yeah," Mark said, brightening slightly. "We may have a person of interest." Andy looked at Mark like he'd said something ridiculous. "A person of interest? From where?"

"Reed's old friend came across a picture of some unknown guy. She's sending it over now."

Andy gave him a look like he had just tasted something that was enticing. "Are you heading over to Jacqueline Kent's place to take a better look?"

"I think that's best. Care to join me?"

"If it's all the same to you I'll hang around for the evidence and pic. I'd like to follow that and make sure nothing goes wrong. We don't need any trouble right?"

Mark shook his hand from under the table. "My sentiments exactly."

Richard walked by with some coffees in his hand and offered them to Mark and Andy. "You ready to go? Andy, you coming?"

Andy nodded and took a sip. "Na, you guys head out. I'll stay here and babysit."

"I'm having a deja vous," Richard said as they pulled up to Jacqueline Kent's house.

"Don't you have one of those every day?" Mark asked, looking at Officer Nelson standing at the door of the house.

"It's freakin eerie man." Richard half laughed.

Richard nodded towards Nelson. "Did you bring the smelling salts?"

"Sure, I always have them on hand. I know I'll need them when you come with me to the morgue."

Richard was thinking of a witty comeback and hesitated. "Wait, we're not going there are we?"

"Is Lisa not staying over tonight? You know? In case you have a nightmare?"

Richard sneered. "Seriously."

"I can't promise anything," Mark said. "Geez, and you were making fun of Nelson! Who's the bigger baby? You've got at least ten years on him, you pussy!"

"Well then take him to the morgue!"

Mark slammed the door in mock disgust. "How's it goin' Nelson my boy?"

"Very well sir, thank you. And you?" Nelson saluted Mark without eye contact.

"Same here. You can take a break if you like, son. But do me a favour and keep our visit under your hat okay?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Nelson said abruptly.

Richard nodded to Nelson on his way in and Nelson returned the sentiment.

"Did you see a wet spot on his pants?" Richard said to Mark under his breath.

"No, but you're going to see my foot print on yours if you don't lay off!" Mark said, handing him a pair of rubber gloves from the box at the entrance door.

Mark and Richard stood at the doorway, putting their gloves on. "You're right," Mark said. "This is deja vous."

"I told you."

"Yeah. Okay, let's go look in the bedroom," Mark suggested.

Richard followed and noted along the way that it looked like Charlie's crew had removed just about everything from the scene. Even the couch was gone. "Jesus. They were really thorough this time."

When they entered the bedroom, Mark concurred. The room was a mess. All boxes had been opened, everything had been removed from the wall, including the dressers and night tables. It looked like the place had been ransacked.

"Well, there isn't much we can do here except head back to evidence and see what was bagged."

Richard nodded. "Good thing Andy stayed back."

"I'll send him a message. He can head over to evidence if he isn't there already."

"Oh, here's the Chief now. I've been dodging calls from Lipkus since you left, fyi." Lisa said as Mark entered the office.

A familiar looking young lady was waiting at front reception, chatting with Lisa.

"Chief Tame, I'm sure you remember Peggy Beck," Lisa said.

Mark extended his hand to Peggy. "I sure do. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise. I hope I'm not being pushy, but I'm on a deadline. I wonder if you have your person of interest yet?"

Mark looked at Lisa, who shook her head from side to side. "No, we'll need a bit more time for that I'm afraid. Once evidence processes the finger print we'll have a better idea."

"Can I give you my card?" She said, quickly grabbing one from inside her purse and handing it to him.

"Sure. I'll give you a call once we know something."

"Oh, thank you so much sir, you won't regret it. I promise."

Peggy extended her hand to Mark and just as she grasped it, Lipkus entered the office.

The tension in the room was palpable. Mark remained cool, but Lisa and Peggy looked like they had each swallowed a golf ball.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant," Mark said in a welcoming voice. Lipkus saw them shaking hands and it took a moment for him to recognize Peggy's face. When he did, he glared at Mark.

"Any news for me Chief?" he asked as though he already knew.

Mark thought quickly. He was thankful he'd spoken with Monica Sutherland earlier. "As a matter of fact, we're just waiting on a picture. We may have a person of interest."

Lisa's face relaxed but Peggy's didn't. She gave Mark a puzzled look and he caught it quickly. "We'll be in touch as soon as we have word, Miss Beck." He smiled at her and led her to the door.

Lipkus was no fool. He saw the exchange and sneered at Mark. "So how did Miss Beck know about this picture, and why did she come all the way over here when you didn't have any news for her?"

Mark closed the door while his mind raced. "Nobody's been available to answer calls. She needed something for their six o'clock story. She's had nothing since the conference."

Lipkus was stung by the reference. "Maybe if she did better research, she might be able to expand on existing details."

"No need, we should have something by then."

"So where's this picture?"

Mark looked at Lisa and she quickly responded, "Ms. Sutherland emailed it to me just a moment ago. I'll need to get back to you as it needs work before we can run it through the system."

"Be sure LouAnn gets contacted on that ASAP," Lipkus demanded as he walked out the door.

Mark shook his head. Lisa took a deep breath. "Any luck over at Reed's?" she asked.

"Nope. Have you had a look at the bullet casing yet?"

Lisa shook her head and walked over to her desk. She knelt down to her drawer and opened it. The grey velvet box was still in the resealable sandwich bag which it had been delivered in. She hadn't even marked it for evidence yet.

She handed it to Mark. Richard approached from behind with some rubber gloves and gave them to Mark. When he finished putting them on, Richard looked up at him as if they were about to make a toast. "Here goes nothing." He said as Mark opened the bag and slid his hand inside.

He grasped the box and studied it. It was just an ordinary crushed velvet jewelry box. Roughly the same kind Shelley's engagement ring came in. He opened it and his eyes widened.

"I bet Mrs. Masterson didn't tell you about that, did she?" Richard said.

"Nope. Not a thing."

Mark carefully put his hand in the box above the bullet casing and retrieved the small piece of paper that was jammed inside the hollowed portion at the top.

He took it out and examined the large bold black upper case lettering. It read "FIND ME".

***

"Jesus Christ. Get that bullet casing to evidence now and send the note to forensics," he told Lisa. She nodded and rushed away.

"What the hell is this guy doing?" Mark asked himself.

"He's either playing games or he wants to be caught," Richard said.

Andy watched Lipkus leave from his desk and waited until he pulled out of the parking lot. He went to find Mark and ask what happened. When he approached and saw the pallor of Mark's face he enquired, "What the hell is up with Lipkus? He came and left like a bat out of hell."

Richard brought him up to speed about the note. "Does Lipkus know?" Andy asked.

"So far only about the picture. It's just a matter of time," Mark said.

"How do we want to play this? Should we tell Charlie now? Before he finds out?"

Mark stood and fidgeted with a pen on Lisa's desk. "If I know Lipkus, he's going to be sniffing around until he has something. He's got it in for Charlie, that's for sure. I'm sure Lipkus would like nothing more than to go over and tell Charlie personally that he's fired or whatever he has in mind."

"Then we should get to Charlie before he does. That way he's not surprised," Andy offered.

"Yeah, he's probably had enough surprises," Richard added solemnly.

Lisa returned from evidence. "Okay, evidence needs about an hour to process the bullet and picture."

"What about the note?" Mark asked.

"Standard sharpie marker. No prints."

"Did they say if it looked like a full or partial on the bullet casing?" Richard asked.

"It looks like it's just a partial, but if it's in the system, we might have something."

"Well let's hope like hell that the picture has promise," Andy interjected.

Mark's face brightened and he looked up at Lisa. "What about Kent's boyfriend or any next of kin? Have we been able to contact anyone?"

Lisa looked at Andy. "I spoke to the father right before Charlie called. Mom's dead. Dad said the boyfriend is away on business. He gave me the number and I left a message. Dad was really distraught and couldn't give me any more information than what the neighbours did. You want me to go pay him a visit?" Andy said.

"Yes. And then call LouAnn and unload all the information to hold Lipkus off. Find out everything you can about the boyfriend through dad and Lisa will dig up everything she can while you're out. Report everything to Lipkus," Mark instructed.

"In the meantime, Richard and I will head over to Charlie's," Mark added as he and Richard walked towards the door.

"Oh, one more thing Andy." Mark said.

"See if you can get a picture of the boyfriend." Andy nodded.

"And a print too." Mark said under his breath.
Chapter 15

Shelley walked up the stairs and set her purse on her dressing table; she had a slight headache. She changed into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth. Taking the Tylenol out of her purse, she noticed a business card she didn't recognize. It was Matt's. The card was generic and simply had his contact information on it. On the back he had written her a note. 'Call me sometime if you want to go for a drink again." There was a smiley face in place of the dot above the 'i' in 'drink'. She smiled.

Her mind wandered back to his kiss. Was she attracted to him? Did the kiss feel good or was it just awkward? It was definitely unexpected and unwelcome, but would she accept if he did it again? He had a nice touch and he did seem very gentlemanly. She admitted there was pleasure in the way he seemed to covet her; something she hadn't had for a while. Matt was the only man in a long time who had outwardly expressed his desire for her. She knew Richard once had a crush on her, but he repressed those feelings long ago. There was once a teacher who seemed to develop a liking for her, but he moved away. She giggled at the thought of another man having a crush on her. It was kind of sweet.

The fact that Sarah was jealous gave Shelley a certain satisfaction. Sarah had a reputation for casually dating men and turning them away for superficial reasons, and it was nice to have her appreciate a gentleman for a change, even if she wouldn't admit it. Shelley wanted nothing more than to see Sarah happy, even if she had to conspire to do it. Maybe she would try to fix them up, but the only way to do that would be to convince Matt to ask Sarah out. It was silly for Shelley to even think about allowing Matt's advances to continue. After all, she was married.

Since Matt had turned Sarah off with his comments at the bar tonight, Shelley figured the only way to get Matt to give Sarah a second chance would be to talk to him personally. But what would she say? Shelley was no match maker. She tried on several occasions to fix Sarah up to no avail. But this time it was different. Never before had Sarah liked a guy who also liked Shelley. Was this an advantage? Would it work? Shelley's head was pounding thinking about it. Her bed was beckoning her. She lay down and nestled herself tightly in the blankets. Mark's pillow seemed to be waiting for her to snuggle with it, so she grabbed it and placed it in front of her tummy, hugging it like a teddy bear.

As much as these thoughts seemed juvenile to her, Shelley took some pleasure in them. It was nice to have something less intense to think about. They were all still dealing with Mark's lifestyle adjustments. Those still lingered like a dark cloud above them. Mark was leading his life just how he had pre-heart attack, which was exactly what his doctor ordered him not to do. Lord knows what he was eating working all these crazy hours again. Shelley closed her eyes, trying to erase all the worries in the darkness of her room, and then realized she left her car at the rec center.

The center closed at 11:00 pm, so there were still people inside when she arrived. There was a dance class going on in the upper floor. It looked like a dress rehearsal as the dancers were all dressed in beautiful colours. The ladies wore light pink body suits with tulle skirts shaped like leaves in a rainbow pattern. The men wore simply light purple body suits to match the light purple streak in the lady's skirts. They were performing a ballet number together, weaving in and out of each other's arms like a ride at the carnival.

Shelley stood for approximately five minutes, watching intently when she heard someone approach. She looked over and saw Michael, Sarah's last failed conquest, entering his vehicle. He was carrying with him a bag shaped like a tennis racket and his hair was wet. His jacket was zipped half way and he was still wearing his sweat suit underneath. He parked only five car lengths away from Shelley and it was dark, but the street lights were bright enough so he could see her.

His gaze told her that he didn't recognize her at first. She waved. "Hi, I'm Sarah's friend?" He smiled and nodded recognition. "Hey there. How's it going?"

"Not bad. Just heading home."

"Yoga was cancelled tonight, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm just picking up my car. We went out instead."

"Ah. Well, tell her if she wants to go out again, I'm game."

"I'll pass the message along."

Michael entered his car and as he drove off, he waved to Shelley. She watched his car until he exited the parking lot. More people began to pour out of the centre and Shelley was amazed at how busy the place was at such a late hour.

"Hey, it's funny running into you again." The voice said. Shelley turned around. It was Matt. He was also carrying a bag shaped like a tennis racket.

"I guess you caught a late game of tennis, did you?" Shelley laughed, eyeing his bag. She felt embarrassed from the last time he saw her and blushed thinking about his kiss.

"Yeah. I'm not much for drinking myself. I needed to blow off some steam, so here I am." He explained. "Just picking up your car?"

"Yes. I decided I'm not so hot on the idea of getting towed."

"You should have called me. I could have picked you up. I gave you my number."

"Yeah. About that." Shelley started. "I already told you I'm married, and although I'm really flattered, I just can't."

Matt interrupted and put his tennis racket down. He leaned his hand on Shelley's car. "Shelley, it's no trouble. No need to explain. I just thought I'd give you the option to think about it. Most people who know me say I'm relentless and it's true."

"You know, if you give Sarah another try she might be more willing. She's available." Shelley offered.

Matt laughed. "Okay, but she doesn't like me."

"Yes she does. She told me so."

"She did? When?"

"When we were in the washroom."

"Ah. So that was what the 'girl talk' was all about, was it?" Matt said, air quoting.

Shelley blushed again, she couldn't help but feel like she had travelled in a time machine back to high school.

She laughed. "Yes."

"So what did you say about me?" Matt asked, with his head raised and his hand under his chin; his eyebrows lifted.

"It's a secret." She said, not meaning to sound as seductive as she did.

Matt stood silent for a moment and then came closer to her. He whispered in her ear. "Do you have many secrets?" The heat from his face brushed hers and she was surprised but she didn't recoil as she had when he kissed her. She stood firm like she wasn't nervous. He smelled like a recent shower and shave and she suddenly wondered how soft his face was.

He stood back and looked at her. She wasn't blushing anymore and her gaze stayed with his a moment too long. Her body felt warm and her heart was beating faster. The parking lot was silent as the previous wave of patrons had driven away. They were alone. Matt gently took her waist in his hands and slowly approached her face with his. Shelley welcomed his touch. When his lips met hers she didn't fight back. She was entranced. First it was a simple brush with his lips and then he opened his mouth and his tongue met hers. It felt so good she almost melted. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she stifled a groan. Matt's hands enveloped her waist and the warmth from his touch made her heart pound. He stepped in closer and their bodies almost touched when Shelley's phone beeped.

She let out a yelp and pushed back.

He looked at her apologetically, like he was afraid she would slap him.

"I have to go." She said.

"I understand." He said as he nodded and looked at her earnestly before picking up his bag and walking away.

She could still taste his lips on hers as she entered her car.

Part of her wanted to scream for being weak. But the other part couldn't help but feel satiated. She hadn't been touched sexually in so long, and it felt so good. She felt some guilt and embarrassment for allowing it to happen, but Shelley decided she would put an end to Matt's advances the next time she saw him, as she had planned to do.

***

Mark and Richard pulled up to Charlie's house at 9:15pm. The street was quiet except for a couple out walking a beautiful little husky. They held hands while the woman kept the end of the leash looped in her opposite hand. Charlie's house showed no signs of life; no lights were on and no cars parked in the driveway.

"Andy said he would be home," Richard said.

"Well, we'll wait a few minutes and give him a call," Mark replied.

"So, how's the diet coming along?" Richard asked, elbowing Mark in the ribs.

Mark waved him off. "Kinda hard to count calories when I'm looking for a serial killer."

"Excuses, excuses. Shelley's not been packing you a lunch?"

Mark laughed. "She would if she knew I'd be around to take it."

Richard was silent for a moment. "Ever thought about retiring?"

Mark gave him a look like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever asked. "Jesus, don't put the nail in the casket yet."

"I'm just saying. You've already had one heart attack. Do you think you'd survive another?"

"It was a mild heart attack. And I won't have another because of all these damn pills the doctor's gave me. I'll be back on track once this case is solved. I'm going to take some time off then and recharge."

"Oh yeah? Where are you guys planning to go?"

"Well, we haven't talked about it yet, but like I said, once this case is solved...."

"How is Shelley anyway? I haven't talked to her myself in a while."

"She's fine. All is well. No complaints," Mark said without eye contact.

"Really? She hasn't come around the office in a while either."

"She's busy with work too. With the kids gone now she's been spending more hours at the school. By next term she'll probably be full time again."

Richard nodded but picked up on the hesitation.

"You guys okay? I mean, since the heart attack?"

Mark looked at Richard like he had two heads. "I think you've been hanging around Lisa too much."

Richard noted the diversion and was about to challenge Mark further when Charlie's car pulled up beside them. Charlie nodded a hello and exited the car as they did the same.

"Hey, Andy said you'd be dropping by. I'm just getting back from the hospital. Visiting hours end at 9:00," Charlie said.

Mark met Charlie and put his arm around his shoulder. "How's Madeline?"

Charlie sighed and leaned his head to the left, towards Richard. "Not so good. They've stopped the chemo and there isn't much more they can do."

Charlie unlocked the door and ushered the guys in.

"Can I offer you anything?" Charlie asked. There were empty containers of fast food overflowing in the garbage and half empty packages of buns, various baked items and sandwiches arranged like blocks all over the counter tops.

"Sure, it looks like you could use some help eating this stuff." Richard half laughed.

"We're starved. Do you remember the last time you ate?" Mark asked Richard. He shook his head.

Charlie took some clean plates out of the dishwasher and placed them in front of the guys; he added one for himself.

"I'm a nervous eater," Charlie explained, packing two crescent rolls and a donut on his plate.

"At this rate I'll put on more than what Madeline's lost before all is said and done."

Neither of the guys responded.

"So what brings you guys here?"

"Unfortunately not good news," Mark explained.

Charlie took a bite of his donut and some jelly slid down his chin. Richard grabbed a napkin out of the holder nearest him and handed it over.

"Well, lay it on me. I'm used to bad news," Charlie said, thinking maybe they hit a snag in the case. He had no idea what they were about to tell him, nor was he prepared for the news.

"Reed's mother found a bullet casing in Karen's things," Mark said without preamble.

Charlie immediately stopped eating and dropped the donut on his plate. His face went blank and the colour drained.

"Nobody knows yet, so take it easy," Richard said, trying to calm him.

Charlie was looking at a spot of jelly that landed on the table. His eyes didn't leave it. It was like he was in a daze. Richard looked at Mark like he should say something.

"We've got some time, Charlie. There's no need to worry. I've got your back," Mark said, trying to reassure him.

His words did not help. Charlie knew what this meant.

"If evidence finds a match to the print, the news will spread quickly and nobody will care how it was found," Richard ventured.

"We also have a picture that could lead us to a person of interest," Mark added.

Charlie sat with the blank look still on his face; like he wasn't hearing what the guys were saying.

Richard leaned over and put his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "You okay buddy?"

Charlie blinked and nodded but said nothing.

Mark found his most comforting voice. "Listen. All you need to do right now is pray for Madeline, as we all have been doing. Worry about her. Don't worry about any of this. We'll take care of it."

Charlie looked at Mark apologetically and shook his head slowly. Mark asked, "Do you need a stiff drink or something?"

"No, but the doctor gave me some tranquilizers to help me sleep. I think I need one."

Still stunned, Charlie was about to get up when Richard stopped him. "You sit. Where are they? I'll find them."

Charlie pointed towards the bathroom. "In the medicine cabinet," he instructed.

Richard entered the washroom and opened the cabinet. It was like a pharmacy, packed with so many prescription drugs, he could spend an hour counting them all. "Uh, buddy, which one is it?"

"Lorazepam. It's the only bottle with my name on it. The rest are Madeline's."

"Jesus Christ. Shouldn't she have some of these with her?" Richard asked; picking each one up and reading the name, looking for the one with Charlie's on it.

Charlie scratched his head and had a look of disgust on his face. "Shit. Sorry, mine are on my night stand in the bedroom."

"No problem, man. I would've gotten lost in there anyway," Richard said as he walked to the next room.

Richard walked back into the kitchen carrying the coveted pill bottle. "I'm sure you would've found something in Madeline's plethora of drugs that would've done the trick anyway."

Charlie gave him a strange look, Richard thought he might have offended him but then Charlie's eyes went to the ground, like he gave up.

Richard placed the bottle on the table and Mark immediately read the label. The prescription was filled recently. "You gonna be okay? Do you want one of us to stay with you?" Mark asked.

"No, I'm pretty much out once I take a few of these. I'll be up in the morning, feeling fresh once again." Charlie said with a hint of sarcasm. "I wish there was a pill that would make my wife feel like that."

"I wish there was a pill like that, too. It would make all women go to sleep when they're in a bad mood and wake up feeling fresh. We would have a much easier life," Richard said. Neither Mark nor Charlie responded.

"Too soon?" He asked, searching Mark's face. Mark looked at him and pursed his lips. "I think it's time for us to go."

"Thanks for stopping by," Charlie said, rising from his chair.

"No trouble at all. We'll be in touch." Mark followed Richard to the door.

When Charlie closed the door, Richard said, "Why didn't you warn him about Lipkus?"

Mark walked to the car and opened the door. Once they were seated he explained "Charlie's a smart guy. I don't need to spell it out."

***

Shelley pulled up to the house just as Mark was exiting his car. He looked spent. His tie was already loosened and hanging sideways and the first two buttons on his shirt were undone. He didn't bother to grab his jacket out of the car.

"Hey, I know you." Mark said, winking at Shelley as she exited her car.

"You do, do you? You look like a stranger to me." She said, pulling her body in closer so he could put his arm around her.

"Long day?" She asked rhetorically.

Mark looked at his watch. "Long indeed."

Shelley headed upstairs and Mark began watching a comedy show and grabbed himself a drink from the fridge. When he came back from the kitchen he sprawled out on the couch. As he stretched his legs out, he hit his feet on Shelley's purse. It had been left open as her keys were still on the couch. He put her keys back in it and saw the card Matt left her. He read the note on the back: 'Call me sometime if you want to go for a drink again', with a smiley face in place of the dot above the 'i' in 'drink'.

Mark's heart began to race.
Chapter 16

Mark heard a knock and Lisa's head appeared. He nodded. She entered and closed the door. She had a file in one hand and a pad of paper and pen in the other. Mark gestured her to take a seat.

She looked at him and lifted her eyebrows, taking a deep breath. "Andy's not in yet but I'll save you the trouble. No luck with Jacqueline's family and the boyfriend checks out."

Mark recognized the intense look on her face. "So what's the good news?"

"We got a print from the bullet casing. It's a match to a stalking case in the system. The guy's name is Peter Hatcher. Monica Sutherland's picture is too obscured, but we have his mug shot and his last known address."

Mark nodded. "So who was he stalking?"

"The cops weren't sure if he was after the kids or the girl but she's a Kindergarten teacher."

"You got an address for her?"

Lisa nodded. Mark looked at the clock; it was only 7:45 am. "It's too early to do anything yet. Hand me the file?" Lisa handed it to him and he opened it.

"So how did this guy go from stalker to murderer?" Mark asked, flipping through the file.

"You're the expert."

"And what was up with the note? 'Find Me'? It doesn't make sense."

There was another knock at the door and Richard's head appeared. "You stealing my lady?"

Lisa smirked, "Ain't no ladies in here."

Richard entered and took the seat beside her. "I dreamed we caught the guy. Any chance that might come true today?"

Mark's head cocked to one side. "Slight chance. But I doubt he's at the same address. He'd be stupid if he was."

"He was stupid enough to leave a clear print," Richard said.

"If he were that stupid, we'd have a lot more evidence," Lisa added.

"You're right. This is personal. The way he shoots, too. Straight in the head? That's personal. Na, he's seasoned and calculating," Mark added.

"I was hopeful," Richard said.

"Keep your hopes with romance my friend."

Lisa stifled a laugh. Richard looked puzzled.

Mark interjected. "Okay, buddy, you want to come with me to this creep's place? See what we've got?"

"After you."

***

"So what have we got so far?" Richard asked. He was looking through Peter Hatcher's file as Mark drove.

"I don't know. He likes Kindergarten teachers or Kindergarteners. That's as far as the cops got with him."

"Well obviously he likes women who work with kids. Look at the pattern. Karen Reed was a child and youth worker and Jacqueline Kent was a social worker. This lady, er, Stacey Miles was a teacher."

"Hey, you should warn Shelley." He said.

Mark looked at him angrily. "You know, buddy, you seriously need to know there's a time and a place for jokes."

Richard put his hand up. "Sorry, sorry. You're right."

His face reddened, the veins in his neck popping, Mark said "First that joke about Madeline and her pills and now this!"

"You know, buddy, you're absolutely right. I need to learn to shut up. No more jokes. I promise."

Mark's brows were still furrowed, but he took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "Yeah fine." He said, "Continue."

"Okay, what else have we got here....not....much," Richard said.

Mark's phone beeped and he looked at it. It was Shelley sending him a text message. 'You didn't tell me how it went at the doctors the other day. I'd like to know what's going on.'

Mark said under his breath, "Yeah, me too."

"What was that?" Richard asked, looking up.

"Nothing."

"Are you okay? Still mad at me?"

"No...it's not that....never mind, everything's fine." Mark put his phone back in the console without answering the message.

Richard knew Mark never ignored any messages that came from the office. Something was up between him and Shelley.

"I know I pissed you off earlier, but if there's something on your mind...."

"I don't want to talk about it right now...... I need to figure something out first."

Richard didn't press.

Mark pulled into what was supposed to be Peter Hatcher's current address: a quaint little bungalow on an average street. There was one car parked in the driveway and a baby stroller on the porch.

There was a storm door and a wooden interior door. Mark opened the storm door and knocked gently on the interior door. The storm door creaked as it closed and clicked shut. Moments later a young woman carrying a toddler opened the wooden door but left the storm door closed.

She was tall and thin with long blonde hair in a ponytail on top of her head. Her pink bathrobe revealed a matching pair of pink flannel pyjamas underneath. Her face registered surprise.

"Oh my, is everything okay officer?" she asked.

"Yes, everything's fine ma'am," Mark said, putting his hand out for reassurance.

"Does Peter Hatcher live here?" Richard enquired.

She furrowed her brows. "No, but I think he used to live here. We've been renting this house for about three months now. It was the only house on this street that was up for rent. I found out I was expecting again and our apartment was too small for the four of us."

"Well, did the last tenant leave a forwarding address?" Mark asked, making silly faces at the baby.

"No, but he left some things here that I've kept. I let the owner know and he said he'd take care of it but he still hasn't done so."

"What kind of things?" Richard asked, playing with the baby's feet.

"Some silverware, a shirt, an ice bucket and some newspaper clippings I found tucked in the top of the closet."

"Do you have them handy? We can take care of them for you," Mark said.

"Well, sure, you want to hold him a sec?" she said, gesturing them in and handing the toddler to Mark.

Her kitchen was just past the entrance and she reached above her fridge for the items.

"Here you go," she said, handing Richard the items and taking the baby back.

"Say, is this Peter guy in any trouble?"

"We just need to ask him some questions. No trouble," Mark said, waving to the baby.

She wasn't convinced. "Well, can I get your number in case he comes around looking for his stuff?"

"Absolutely," Mark said, handing her his card. She looked at it and her eyes widened.

"You're a police chief?"

Mark smiled without showing teeth.

"Geez, he must be in some kind of trouble if you're looking for him."

"Not to worry ma'am. We'll take care of it."

Richard and Mark were thankful for when the baby began to fuss and the woman excused herself. She closed the door to tend to him. They both saluted and left.

Richard placed the bag on the floor before entering the car. "So, do you want to look at this stuff now or wait until we get back?" he asked, looking in the back seat for gloves.

"Gloves and bags are in the back." Mark answered.

Richard slid his hands in the gloves and began taking the items out. The shirt was on top.

"One Adidas t-shirt, size XL," he said, placing the shirt in an evidence bag and sealing it.

"Two forks, a spoon and butter knife. Made in USA." He followed the same procedure with those items.

"An ice bucket. No tongs," Richard joked. As he pulled the ice bucket out of the bag, he saw the newspaper clippings underneath.

"Ho ho! What have we here...." Richard pulled the clippings out, which were all mangled like they'd been stuck inside the mechanism of the closet door.

Mark knew that tone in Richard's voice. He pulled over.

Richard took one of the clippings out and smoothed it on his thigh. He studied it and put the plastic bag on the floor so it didn't obstruct Mark's view.

Mark's face turned white. He would know that headline anywhere. It read: 'Convicted Murderer James Gruber Caught by Police'

***

Mark stormed into the office and said firmly to Lisa "Get me everything you have on James Gruber right away!"

"Sure sir, but..."Lisa said, trying to interrupt.

Mark stopped before entering his office. "What's the trouble?"

"Sir, um, it's Lipkus, Andy gave him the updates including the bullet and he's demanding you call him immediately. I gave him your cell number."

Mark took his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. "He didn't call."

Lisa shook her head, "Well, then he must be on his way over."

"Geez," Mark seethed under his breath. He turned and went into his office. "Get me what you can on Gruber and I'll figure out what to do about Lipkus."

Lisa nodded.

Mark's phone began to ring.

"Andy, what's up?"

"I'm just on my way back from Charlie's house. Lipkus got to him."

"Oh Christ. What happened?" Mark knew Lipkus had to be up to something, having not called or shown up. He must have been irate when he found out what'd been going on under his nose.

"Forced him to retire. I'm surprised to be honest. I figured he'd get him fired."

"Lipkus would look bad if he did that. This way Charlie can suffer in silence. How did Charlie take it?"

"Well, it was good that he was forewarned I think. He took a sedative and went to bed. I think he'll be okay, but we should keep an eye on him."

"Good idea. Have Nelson keep vigil."

"Will do. Anything else going on?"

"It looks like our guy is a James Gruber follower."

"Really? Are you thinking copycat?"

"Possibly. We'll know more after we interview his stalking victim. You feel like checking out Stacey Miles?" Mark asked.

"Sure. Where's she live? I'll head there now."

Mark gave him the address and Lisa brought him the file he asked for.

"Lipkus was with Charlie," he told Lisa.

"That explains it. How is he?"

"Andy just left him. Said he took a sedative and went to bed. That's what I would have done."

"Do me a favour and get Nelson over there to make sure he's okay for a while?" Mark said.

"Sure thing."

***

Mark looked at his watch. It was almost 3:15pm. He buzzed Richard and asked him to stop by his office.

"What's up buddy?" he asked as he entered the office.

"Have we got any unmarked patrol cars available?" Mark asked.

"I think so. Did you check with Lisa?" Richard's leaned over to see if she was at her desk.

"Sh...sh...never mind...can you go check for me?"

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Oooo...kay. Be right back."

A few minutes later, Richard returned and reported there were two in the lot.

"Can I ask what's going on?"

"If I let you come with me, will you keep your mouth shut?" Mark asked.

"Sure."

Mark let Richard drive.

"Where are we headed?" Richard asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

Mark scoffed like he had to admit something embarrassing.

"Timberlea Elementary School," Mark said.

Richard's eyebrow raised. "Isn't that Shelley's...."

"Yes it is. This would be a good time for you to shut up. We talked about this," Mark warned.

Richard nodded and began driving.

They were silent until they arrived at the school ten minutes later.

"So what are we looking for?" Richard asked, after parking in the visitor's area.

"Shelley quits right after dismissal on Wednesdays. I want to follow her."

Richard looked around the lot. "There's her car. She's still here."

Mark looked in the same spot and nodded.

A minute later the buses began appearing and cars began streaming into the lot.

"Let's just wait. Shelley will be coming out soon," Mark said.

About fifteen minutes later, all kids, buses and extra cars had disappeared and there were just enough vehicles surrounding them to make it look inconspicuous.

Mark took a deep breath and saw a few teachers leave. "She should be out any minute now." Richard detected tension in his voice.

"Just relax. I know what you're thinking, and it probably isn't what you think. Shelley would never cheat on you. The wife of a lesser man would. You've shown her more love than anyone I know and she knows you belong together. Don't underestimate that."

Mark searched Richard's face. "Thanks man." Shelley appeared at the side door. "You're right. Let's get out of here. I can't do this, it isn't right,"

"Well...I get that. But we should wait until she leaves. If we pull out now she's going to see us."

"Good point."

Shelley drove away, heading home. They waited a few seconds before heading back to the station.

***

The phone rang in the middle of the night. Both Shelley and Mark were startled awake.

Mark jumped up and grabbed the extension on his night table, he looked at the screen.

"Nelson? What's happened?"

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry to wake you."

"That's okay, what's going on?"

"Sir, I have some terrible news."

"What is it?"

"I'm very sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Thompson has passed."

"What? Who? Charlie?" Mark stood up and turned on the light.

"Yes sir. He begged me not to call you earlier. His wife died around 11pm and I thought he was okay because he went to bed." Nelson's voice cracked when he said 'okay'.

"The paramedics said he ingested a lethal dose of pills they found in the bathroom."

Mark's head dropped. He rubbed his eyes and could feel a lump in his throat.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I never thought to check the bathroom. I didn't think he would need me to follow him in there. He took his sedatives in his room. I didn't know he had all them in the bathroom." Nelson began to cry.

"It's okay Nelson. We were there just yesterday and saw all the pills. We should have removed them. Nobody ever thought Charlie would kill himself."

Shelley darted out of bed and sat beside Mark, rubbing his back.

"I'm really sorry, sir," Nelson said.

"It's okay Nelson. You did a good job."

"So sorry." He sobbed.

"Thanks for calling son. I'll talk to you later. God bless."

Mark hung up the phone, slammed his fist on the night stand, seething. "Damn Lipkus!"

Chapter 17

Shelley arrived at the funeral home first. Charlie and Madeline's kids sat in the first pew, his mother in a wheelchair just beside them. Both caskets were side by side at the front of the room, each with cascading flowers on top. Charlie's were mostly white and blue, Madeline's all pink roses and baby's breath.

Mark and Andy had a meeting with Lipkus before the wake. Shelley offered to come to the wake before them, having taken up a collection at the station and at school to help cover the cost of the funerals. She delivered the envelope to their oldest boy, Colin. He accepted with tears of gratitude even though it wasn't much. Two days' notice wasn't nearly enough to collect what Shelley wanted.

The room was filled with some familiar faces. Many attending were colleagues of Mark's. She said hello and offered condolences to those she recognized. Nelson approached her with a sunken heart. She tightly embraced him.

"Nelson, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself," she said, patting his back.

"But if I'd just checked on him, he wouldn't be...." Shelley faced the entrance door, and as she comforted Nelson she watched people pour in.

"Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. Charlie wanted to be with Madeline and he probably would have stopped at nothing. I'm just sorry you had to be there when it happened."

Nelson began to calm down and Shelley let go of him, but still clutched his upper arms. She offered him a tissue from her purse and watched him dab his eyes and wipe his nose. Suddenly she saw a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. It was hard for her to tell the face amongst all the people arriving, but she kept her eye on the door, waiting for him to turn around.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?" Nelson asked.

"No, no, I just thought I saw someone, but I think I've lost him. Too many people."

"You don't have to stay here with me ma'am. I'm fine. I appreciate your help."

"That's okay sweetie. I don't mind."

"But I do need to use the lady's room. Would you excuse me? I'll be right back."

Shelley moved slowly through the crowd and made her way to the restrooms. When she re-emerged, fiddling with the lid to her lipstick, she turned the wrong way and almost walked right into the men's room. There was a man coming out who she nearly bumped into as she put her lipstick back in her purse.

"Excuse me," he said, redirecting her.

She lifted her head and recognized the face, smiling slightly. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Don't worry, yoga wasn't cancelled," Matt said. "Charlie's brother was friends with my dad. Sorry for the loss. Both Madeline and Charlie were wonderful people and they'll be missed."

"They sure will. It's such a tragedy. How will the kids cope?" She asked herself.

"Life must go on," he said, and then asked. "Is your husband here?"

"Not yet. They're all coming together after a meeting."

"What about Sarah? How's she doing?" Matt gestured for her to walk towards the room.

"Oh she's fine. I haven't talked to her in a couple days, but she's just busy with work. Do you want me to hook you two up?"

Matt half laughed. "We'll talk, but maybe now isn't the appropriate time?"

"Very true." She blushed.

They approached the room together, just as another hoard of people came through the front door. She recognized Lisa, Richard and then Mark.

"I should be going. I was hoping to catch yoga class tonight," he said, looking at his watch with his back to the door.

"Oh, so soon." Shelley frowned.

"I just wanted to pay my respects. These scenes are not for me," he explained, holding her hands.

"Will you be there later? At yoga?"

"Oh no, I'm staying until the last guest leaves. I'm sure that's what Mark will want," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, until next time then," he said, kissing her hand.

Mark caught the back of Matt's head and watched him as he spoke to his wife. Nelson distracted Shelley from approaching Mark. She followed him back into the room. When Matt walked away, Mark watched him, noting he left using the opposite entrance door.

The crowd was subdued, but the room was as densely packed as the mosh pit of a rock concert. Shelley and Mark were both lost among all the guests, unable to find each other.

By the time things began to quiet down, Mark and Shelley were tired and Mark had forgotten about Matt even being there. So had Shelley.

"Hey, I know you," Shelley said, giving Mark a playful tug on the arm.

"Jesus. Have you ever seen so many people?"

"It's unbelievable. Charlie and Madeline would have been proud."

"It looks like we're free to go pretty soon. Not many people left."

Mark nodded. "I'll walk you to your car. You mind if Richard tags along? I'll see if he wants to swing by or go home. We carpooled."

"Sure. I figured that." Shelley said.

Mark held the door open for Shelley and then remembered. "Hey, I meant to ask you. Who was that guy you were talking to when I got here? He left?"

Shelley waved. "Oh, it's a small world. I met him at yoga but his dad was a friend of Charlie's brother. His name's Matt."

Mark smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you at home." He whistled to Richard, sitting on the seat in the hallway drinking coffee. "You ready?"

"Right behind you," Richard said.

Mark watched Shelley pull out onto the street. He kept watching until her lights were no longer visible.

"So who was the suit she was rapping with when we got here? He seemed to leave in an awful hurry," Richard said.

"Some yoga faggot." Mark laughed.

"What was he doing at Charlie's wake?"

Mark turned on the ignition as he answered. "Apparently his dad was friends with Charlie's brother."

Richard cocked his neck back slightly and blinked. "Hm. That doesn't make sense."

Mark looked at him, waiting for the punch line.

"Charlie was an only child. He didn't have any siblings."

***

Shelley pulled up to the house and turned off the ignition. The house was bathed in darkness. Mark was on his way home with Richard in tow. She was exhausted and couldn't wait to go to bed. An early morning awaited her.

As she put her key in the hole, the door opened a crack. Shivers went up her spine. The lock had clearly been tampered with. She froze. Ever since she and Mark met, she'd never felt the need to dial emergency services, but at that moment she did. Mark was right behind her but every moment he hadn't arrived seemed like an eternity. She heard squealing tires from afar and saw lights flashing. The lights came toward her. Mark and Richard flew out of the car.

"Shelley! Get away from the door!" Mark yelled and drew his pistol.

She ran to her car. "The lock's broken!" Mark nodded.

"Get in your car and lock the door."

Sirens were heard from a distance. Shelley let out a breath of relief: they called for back up.

She saw another cruiser pull up. Nelson and Wendell exited. Shelley rolled down the window. "They went inside," she said.

"Okay ma'am, you're safe with me," Nelson said, watching Wendell enter the house.

A few minutes later all three came back out.

"It's all clear. Shelley, you want to come in and see if anything is out of place?" Mark asked.

She nodded and went inside the house. They searched, and everything was in order.

Their neighbour, Mabel, tapped lightly on the door before entering. Shelley saw her and motioned her in.

"Sorry for the fuss, Mabel. Everything's okay," Shelley explained.

Mabel was a short, plump woman with snow white hair. She was wearing a beige bulky knit sweater that met her knees; her white flannel night gown was poking under it, puddling the floor.

"What happened Shelley? Were you robbed?" Mabel asked.

"No, no, we had an intruder of some sort. He must have came and went before any of us arrived. The lock was broken when I came home from a wake, but nothing's out of place or missing."

Mabel nodded. "Thank God. We have such a nice neighbourhood. Everybody knows Mark lives here, so it's quite peaceful."

Richard approached. "Did you see anyone near the house tonight?"

"No, I'm afraid I didn't. I was home all night, too."

"No funny business? Nothing peculiar?" Richard added.

"No, nothing at all. Quiet as usual."

Richard nodded.

"You let me know what comes of it, okay Shelley?" Mabel said, turning back out the door.

"I sure will. Thanks Mabel." Shelley said.

"Tell me everything you know about this 'Matt' guy," Richard said, sitting down at the kitchen table with pen and paper.

"I met him at yoga. He has a lion tattoo on his arm. He's a Leo."

"What did he tell you about himself?"

"He's an engineer. A student actually. He said he'd been laid off and the government gave him money to go back to school."

"Anything else?"

Shelley looked at Richard, he sensed the hesitation. "Level with me," He said comfortingly.

"He had interest in me. It was pretty clear. I told him I was married and encouraged him to go for Sarah. She was interested in him."

"Did he ever give you anything?"

"His card," she said, pulling it out of her purse.

Richard studied it, noting the smiley face over the 'i', and showed it quickly to Mark. "I'll bag this."

He walked out to the car and Mark approached.

They exchanged looks. There was a pause. "I told him I was married." She admitted. She became focused on a spot on the floor. A lump began to form in her throat.

"Did he touch you?" he asked gently, almost whispering. She nodded slowly.

"He kissed me, and I didn't push him away."

Mark came closer and took her gently by the waist. She nuzzled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back.

"When this is all over, we need to take care of us."

Richard re-entered and saw the embrace. He said, "I think we're all done here."

Shelley's head emerged. "Thanks for everything guys." Nelson and Wendell saluted and walked out with Richard.

Mark let go of Shelley and gently took Richard by the arm before he closed the door. "You mind staying?"

***

Shelley closed the bedroom door and began undressing for bed. Mark had given Richard a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt to wear overnight. He was sleeping in Jennifer's room. Shelley removed her shoes and placed them under her dressing table, and took off her special occasion earrings. The box wasn't in its usual place: there was a compartment that it fit perfectly inside the top portion of her jewellery box. As she searched her dressing table, she found it on the edge of the table, almost ready to fall on the floor.

'The guys must have knocked it when they searched earlier.' She thought. As she opened it, her eyes widened and she yelled for Mark.

Both Mark and Richard heard and ran to her, practically breaking down the door to get to her. Shelley's hands were shaking and she was hyperventilating as she held the box open so they could see what was inside.

The box had an unspent bullet sitting on the back lip with a small note scrunched into the top, just like the other box and bullet they found from Karen Reed's belongings.

The note read 'For You', and the 'o's had smiley faces drawn in them.
Chapter 18

"You think it's him?" Richard said.

"I'd bet my life on it. He's a James Gruber wannabe, he likes redheaded kindergarten teachers, he dots his 'i's and 'o's with smiley faces." Mark counted the reasons on each finger.

"Plus, he lied about knowing Charlie. He just wanted to make sure you and Shelley wouldn't be there, so he could plant his little present."

Mark immediately dialled Lisa's cell number. She answered on the first ring.

"Lisa, did you give the picture and details to Peggy over at WNYU?"

"Absolutely. It hit the six o'clock news."

"Okay, call her again. We need to get this out immediately. We need all hands on deck. He is armed and dangerous and is going by the name of 'Matt'. I'm bringing Shelley over to the station to look at his mug shot. We need to get his picture to all stations. We need someone over at the rec center and a road block. He's been in my house."

"Jesus Christ. Is everybody alright?"

"Shelley's a bit shaken. He's made friends with her over the last few weeks it seems."

"Oh my god.....unbelievable....I'm heading to the station now."

"I'll meet you there."

***

Nearly every police officer in the city was posted at various locations, including Andy.

When Lisa arrived at the station, the place was like a ghost town. She tossed her handbag on the desk, checked to ensure her spare gun was still affixed to the underside of her desk, and logged in to her computer.

As she heard the chime of her software connecting, she also heard the front door open.

Lisa said without looking up, "Boy that was quick. You guys didn't stop for a coffee I bet." When there was no answer, she looked up and saw the barrel of a handgun pointed at her face. He said from behind the desk, about ten feet away "No, but I'll take you out for one....if you live that is."

Lisa turned to face Matt, or Peter Hatcher, or whatever name he was using. She put her hands up and rose slowly out of her chair.

"You know, I prefer redheads, but a cute blonde will do. I might consider rethinking my taste." He said, his eyes looking her up and down seductively.

"Chief Tame will be here any second," she said, looking back at her desk, trying to figure out if she could move fast enough to grab her gun.

"Yes, that's what I was hoping for. Do you think I came just for you?" He laughed.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I've never actually met the chief. I've heard lots about him through the years, but I've yet to have the pleasure."

"He won't be alone. There will be two guns pointed at you."

"Well, see, that's where you come in." As he said this, the gun pointed up and down her body.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Ah, don't you worry, pretty lady," he said.

When they both heard the car door close, Lisa prayed Matt was stupid enough to park somewhere that Mark or Richard would take notice. Matt moved away from the door and came to her side, grasping her from behind. He placed the barrel of the gun on her cheek.

Richard entered first and when he saw Matt he immediately went to draw his weapon.

"Don't even think about it!" Matt shouted.

Richard obeyed. Mark did the same. Shelley came last and when she saw Matt, she let out a scream, placing both hands to her mouth in shock.

"Well, hello Shelley. Did you miss me?" Matt asked slyly. She didn't answer. He ignored her silence and moved on to Mark.

"Chief Tame. It seems you're not as sharp these days, are you?"

Mark took the bait. "How do you mean?"

"I left you several clues to help you find me, but you never found any of them. Well, at least you didn't find them." He laughed and paused, waiting for Mark to respond.

"It's very frustrating when I have to come find you." Matt pointed the barrel slightly towards himself when he said "I" and then towards Mark when he said "you".

"You're not as slick as you were in the old days, are you?"

"You mean back in the James Gruber days?"

Matt continued, "Those were your all star days, weren't they?"

Mark ignored the question. "What were you doing at the wake today, Mr. Hatcher?"

Matt's face brightened. "Ah, so you saw me there, did you? I was hoping you would. I was there to see your lovely wife, of course."

"Or to make sure our house was empty so you could break in."

Matt smiled. "I like to leave gifts."

Richard intervened. "I suppose it's better for you when the bullet actually fires though, right?"

"Everything in good time,"

"I like to give gifts first and then take them all back, including the bullet. That's my little souvenir. However, your wife, Chief, wouldn't let me give her any gifts."

Shelley's eyes filled with anger. "Oh, but you did let me give you a couple of little gifts, didn't you Shelley?" Matt winked slyly at her.

"What else did you want to give her? You seem to have a thing for women's jewellery." Mark said.

"Did you like the bracelet?" Matt asked, as though Mark would offer commentary.

"I bet Karen Reed and Jacqueline Kent did. Are there any others you took jewelry from after they were dead?" Richard said under his breath.

"Oh yes. But they offered me nothing in return. They didn't deserve to keep their jewelry."

Richard shook his head.

"What do you want Hatcher?" Mark asked.

Matt smiled. "Tell me. Chief. Do you...shall we say....appreciate your wife?" Matt motioned to Shelley to come to him.

"Come here or the blonde will spontaneously become a redhead,"

Mark gently motioned Shelley to do as Matt asked.

Matt eyed her up and down. "A woman like this...is simply....delicious." Matt eyed her up and down. As Shelley approached, Matt quickly let go of Lisa and grabbed Shelley. She screamed as the gun barrel pressed into her cheek.

"Oh calm down, my sweet Shelley," Matt said, seductively pulling the edge of the barrel down her neck. He had pressed himself up against her back and she could feel his hardness. The bile in the back of her throat began to climb in her mouth.

Lisa stood beside Matt and eyed Richard and Mark. She hoped they could create a diversion. Her eyes kept going to her desk and back, hoping Richard would catch on.

"We haven't got much time my Shelley," Matt said, inching his way to the door with Shelley's face pressed into his neck.

Matt pointed the barrel at Mark and Richard. "Both of you. Away from the door."

Lisa watched as the barrel of Mark's gun swept towards Mark and Richard. Seeing her chance, she lunged toward her desk in a life or death bid for her own gun.

But Matt was too fast. There was a terrifying roar as his gun discharged and the room filled with a flash of yellow light and acrid gun smoke. The bullet caught Lisa in the chest, and she fell to the ground with a whimper and a dull thud. Richard cried out, enraged at the thought that she was hurt.

Furious and horrified, Shelley turned, took a bite out of Matt's ear and jumped out of the way. Richard, being closest to Shelley, grabbed hold of her and they both plummeted to the floor.

Mark drew his gun and watched as Shelley and Richard fell clear. His gun slid from its holster with practiced speed, but would it be fast enough?

In a moment he was looking down the barrel, watching as his gun sight took what seemed like hours to settle on Matt's chest. All the while the barrel of Matt's gun was slowly pointing towards the floor, towards two of the most important people in Mark's life.

Mark's heart pounded in his ears and he feared it may explode in his chest. He prayed he would live just one more heartbeat, and then it wouldn't matter. One more heartbeat and he would send Matt straight to Hell where he belonged.

Mark's shot was fired and the bullet hit Matt straight in the chest; he fell straight back.

Shelley let out a scream when she saw all the blood pooling on the floor.

"It's okay, it's okay. He's dead," Richard said.

Mark hurried over to where Matt's body lay, kicked the gun clear of Matt's hand and checked his pulse. He looked up at Richard and nodded.

Richard looked over at Lisa, lying under her desk. "Are you okay?"

Mark ran over to her. "Yeah, yeah......Son of a bitch!" Lisa yelled, opening her shirt to reveal her bullet proof vest with a noticeable blemish.

Richard guffawed. "That's not the reaction I expected to hear."

"Easy for you to say......God .....dammit!"

Mark dispatched an ambulance and called off the search party. Shelley helped Lisa to her chair.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked, rejoining them.

"Don't worry, I can still work." She answered facetiously.

"No, I think we're all taking a vacation." He said, putting his arms around Shelley.

The paramedics arrived and took care of Matt's body, peppering Mark with questions. Peggy Beck arrived and did a report live from the station; she would be getting the coveted promotion after her coverage, which pleased Mark. As Peggy was just wrapping up her last interview, Lipkus pulled up with a sour look on his face.

Peggy stuck the microphone in his face and said, "Sergeant Lipkus, do you have anything to add to this investigation?"

"I'm glad our murderer was caught and the case will now be brought to close." Lipkus's face turned pink.

Peggy nodded and the camera turned off. When he walked away she said under her breath, "You know he's dead, right?"

***

Mark and Shelley got out of the car; they both carried a bouquet of flowers. Shelley's were pink roses and Mark's were white carnations.

"Do you think you would have handled things differently?" Shelley asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if you'd known Charlie was in real trouble."

Mark placed the bouquet on Charlie's grave and stood back a moment before answering. While Shelley waited for his response, she placed her bouquet on Madeline's grave. She took her place beside Mark and he took her hand in his. He answered softly, "I think if I were ever to lose you, there's no place I'd rather be."

Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl

A serial killer, a stock-broker, and a police chief's daughter clash in this mysterious tale of greed and love.

Michael is forced to choose between his most precious asset and the love of his life, when a serial killer tries to take what matters most to him.

Police Chief Mark Tame and his team hunt for clues with Michael's help, when they realize that the killer is linked to Michael.

Raised by a cop, Jessica is not one to play victim...to anyone. Being with Michael has meant lots of sacrifices, and Jessica doesn't do well with being vulnerable, so the young girl has trouble surrendering to his love. When she learns that he's involved in a potential stock market scandal, she has trouble believing his side of the story.

When the killer comes after Jessica, he gets more than he bargained for. With the help of Michael and with Mark's team, will that be enough to keep her safe?

A gripping, suspenseful page-turner with a touch of romance, Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl will keep you entertained for hours. If you enjoyed Liam Neeson's 'Taken', you'll love this book!

Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl is the second novel in the LA Cops Series trilogy. This is a standalone novel, but can be enjoyed with the other two from the trilogy.

Pick up a copy today!

Smashwords

***A FREE sample of 'Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl' is at the end of this book!***

Keep in Touch

Want to know when I have a new release? Subscribe to my newsletter!

It's absolutely free, there are no strings attached, your information is completely confidential, and you can unsubscribe any time.

All you need is an email address.

Click here to subscribe to my newsletter.

***Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl – Sample***

Prologue

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME!" she shouted. As she bent forward, her fists clenched.

"Just relax," he said, removing the backward ski mask from her face with a thrust. Her hair stuck to the mask with mid-winter static cling.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here and piss myself?" she spat.

"If you need to relieve yourself, just ask."

"SCREW YOU!" she yelled as he tossed the handcuff keys on the dresser. She was handcuffed to a brass bed, layered with a king-sized mattress and box spring. Anybody under six feet tall would need a ladder to climb on.

He stood at the dresser and wrote something down on a piece of paper. Then he took the wooden chair beside the bed and sat about three feet from her.

"Tell me what you know about Saigon."

He stared at the paper with the pen in his hand and looked at her after a few seconds.

She looked at him and furrowed her brows.

"Saigon? What's there to know? It's a stupid stock, that's all. Is that why I'm here?"

He inhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, squeezing slightly and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't play the fool with me." he said, dropping his hand.

His cheeks reddened. There was a bead of sweat on his forehead, just below his almost non-existent hairline. Dark brown hair lay interspersed on his crown, slicked back. His slim body sat relaxed in the chair, but his face registered anxiety.

"I'm not playing anything! Why don't you ask Michael? He's supposed to be your friend, isn't he? Although after this I'm sure that'll change!" she said, turning to face him.

"You've got some nerve! Michael trusted you!" she yelled, tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't worry; he's got nerve too." he said, rising from the chair.

"You're such an asshole!" she screamed, kicking the side of the bed.

He pursed his lips. "I'm so sorry about all this."

She looked at him through tears, her eyes dark with anger. "Yeah. Well, you'll be sorry. Have you met my father?"

He looked at the floor and walked to the dresser. There was a brass bell on top of a white doily. He picked it up and placed it on the bed within her reach.

"If you need anything, just ring it. I'll be outside." he said, nodding towards the door.

He closed the door behind him. She kicked the side of the bed harder, "You SON OF A BITCH!"

Chapter 1

She felt his leg crossed over her body as she woke. A deep breath came from one of them, causing them both to stir. Michael's hand was on her upper arm and it moved to her cheek.

"Morning sunshine," he said, "Sleep well?"

He reached up and kissed her on the other cheek and she caught his lips with hers.

"Mmmm..." He groaned, "Very nice." Michael glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. "You can have the shower first." he said, "I have time."

"But the alarm hasn't even gone off yet," Jessica said, rubbing his chest.

Michael leaned up far enough to turn the switch off on the clock, and far enough for him to kiss her on the neck. She gently caressed his buttocks as he looked down at her with widened eyes.

"My you're naughty first thing in the morning."

She giggled. "You started it."

Michael hungrily kissed her, and she ran her hands through his matted hair, grabbing a handful. He encircled the sensitive skin on her chest with his warm mouth.

"Oh Michael..." She breathed out and arched her back.

His breathing quickened as he filled her. "It won't take long."

She ignored the comment and wrapped her legs around him. The bed began to squeak at an even pace until she cried out. Michael sped up until he cried out and collapsed onto her.

Michael lay on her for a moment, then licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Sure beats coffee."

Jessica took a cleansing breath and rubbed his back. "I think that's record time."

Curious, Michael looked up at the clock. He frowned. "Yup."

'What time do you have to go in today?"

"Around nine; but I'm working late tonight."

"Again?" she said, heading for the shower.

"Yes, again. Haven't you had enough of me already?"

Jessica guffawed. "Very funny. Remember you're going away this weekend?"

Michael got up to brush his teeth.

"That's not definite yet. It depends if Jack gets the account. We won't know until tomorrow."

Michael's friend Jack was an executive at his former employer and they planned to celebrate if he won this major account deal with one of the top selling cell phone companies in North America.

"You'll go anyway—you guys always do," Jessica said matter-of-factly.

"Maybe. What are you going to do this weekend?" he asked with his mouth full of toothpaste.

"Not sure yet." She paused to rinse her face, "I might go visit my parents at the cottage."

"Oh yeah? We haven't been up there forever."

Jessica laughed. "Don't tell me you'd rather go there?"

"We can go up next weekend," Michael said, spitting out the toothpaste. "You want coffee?"

"Sure, thanks."

Jessica exited the shower and left the towels on the floor. Michael's sink was disgusting. Then she remembered it was Thursday and the housekeeper would be in. Michael walked past the bathroom into the bedroom.

"Don't bother making the bed; Marsha's in today," she said.

"Okay. Hey, when's the new guy start?"

"Tomorrow; rumor has it he's a bigger ass than Ned."

Ned, Jessica's current boss, was a pompous, self-centered egomaniac. He thought he was the best thing to happen to the film production company she worked for. They were gaining higher ground in animated movies and Ned had been slipping for the past year since his last promotion. He was too old-school for his position, and his mature thinking had dragged the company down. When he met with other executives the previous month regarding their latest project, Ned was the only one who wasn't on board with everyone else's cutting-edge ideas. There was a major office meltdown, and Ned got the boot.

"Come on. Nobody could be more of an asshole than Ned," Michael argued.

"As long as he doesn't scratch his ear with his key and act like I didn't see it, all will be good." Jessica said, walking into the closet with her hair wrapped in a towel.

"Eeesh," Michael said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "Is he younger? Older?"

"Oh god! If he's any older he'll be a corpse!" Jessica laughed.

Michael playfully slapped Jessica on the bottom as he walked by into the shower. "So are you taking old Ned out for lunch on his last day?"

"No, but I think the bigwigs are. It should be nice and quiet today."

Jessica finished putting on her skirt and top and followed Michael into the bathroom.

"So where are you guys going this weekend anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe to Alex's boat—not to Vegas again, I know that."

"Oh really?" Jessica laughed.

"Yeah, oh geez. Jack nearly lost his shirt the last time."

"Got a bit carried away, did he?"

"A bit? No, Jack's bi-polar. He wins these accounts and wants to celebrate until he hits rock bottom and then he stops."

"I can see why you were excited about the thought of going to the cottage instead."

Jessica couldn't help but remember the last time she and Michael went to the cottage. Her parents had gone away to visit her aunt in Florida for the weekend. It was summer, so that's all the heat they could handle. Jessica asked if they could use the cottage; it was rare for her to ask.

* * *

As they drove up, Michael grasped Jessica's hand and placed it in his lap, leaving him only one hand to steer.

"Did you bring enough food, or do you want to stop? We're almost there," Michael said, pointing at the sign leading into town.

"No, the cooler's full. We can make a stop tomorrow if we run out."

As they turned into the driveway, Jessica peered at the lake just behind the cottage. The water was lapping up gently onto the beach; their own private little beach. She noticed her mom left the muskoka chairs firmly planted in the sand right by the shore.

"Gosh, it's so beautiful, isn't it?" Jessica said, inhaling the fresh sea air.

"Your parents were really nice to let us use it while they're gone."

Michael exited the car. Jessica followed as they began unpacking their gear.

When they got settled in, Michael fired up the barbecue while Jessica prepared the salad for dinner. After they ate and washed the dishes, Michael invited Jessica to join him by the fire and offered her a glass of wine.

"Long day?" he asked, placing his arm around her as she sat next to him on the couch.

Jessica nodded. "How about you?"

"Can't complain. But things are looking up." He winked, taking a sip.

"Do you have much work to do for the weekend?" she asked, interlacing her fingers with his; their hands in front of them.

"No not really. Just the usual maintenance of accounts and such. Nothing I can't do when you sleep."

Jessica's eyes narrowed jokingly and she looked directly at him so they were nose to nose, "You know I'd rather you slept. I don't mind if you have to work. That's why I asked."

Michael nodded, "I thought I sensed a tone in your question."

"Not at all, Michael. It's your job, I understand." She kissed him tenderly on the nose.

Michael brushed her cheek with his index finger, "That's what I love about you. Everyone else gives me grief. Jack, my mom, half my family—"

Jessica interrupted. "That's because you don't pick your moments right. You work when you should be spending time doing other things."

Michael smiled. "Am I picking the right moment now?"

"Depends what you had in mind," Jessica answered coyly, still nose to nose.

Michael took both their wine glasses and placed them on the coffee table at their feet. He then wrapped his arms around her, and she reciprocated. He took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes.

As he exhaled, he put his forehead on hers. "Marry me," he breathed.

Jessica craned her neck back, aghast. "What?" she whispered.

"I love you Jess. You're all I want." He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I...wow," she said, shaking her head like something flew into her hair. She emptied her wine glass and placed it on the table, not looking at Michael. He sat there, hoping she was playing around.

A moment later, she took a deep breath and laughed, like someone had played a bad joke on her.

"I sure didn't expect that," she said, still not looking at him.

Michael was speechless.

It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken. Finally, Jessica took his hand in hers. Part of him thought she would say yes, but he wasn't stupid.

"I like things the way they are," she said, putting her forehead on his.

"I do too, Jess. But I want us to belong together. I want you to be my wife. I want a family."

Jessica lifted her head off his and looked into his eyes, "I need some time. I love you and I want to be with you, but I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

Her eyes became glossy and she kissed him tenderly on the lips. Michael nodded and held her face in his hands.

"Whatever you want. You want time, I can give you time."

Jessica smiled.

* * *

Michael opened up the shower door and the sound of the glass hitting the wall pulled her from her reverie.

"We'll be fine. Just need to stay clear of any gambling," Michael said, peering down at the mess of dirty towels.

"Are there any clean ones?" he asked. Jessica was painting a perfect warm red line on her lips and turned to him.

"The pink one."

Michael pursed his lips as he stooped down to pick up the semi-damp towel. He had a sour look as he smelled the stench from his last shower on it. How Jessica could turn out so messy, as opposed to her tidy mother, was beyond him.

"Maybe we should have Marsha come in twice a week," he said, dropping the towel and walking out of the bathroom, dripping wet.

"I can call and ask," Jessica said, applying mascara.

"It wouldn't hurt," Michael said, searching for a towel in the linen closet. All he could find was a balled-up hand towel with an unknown hotel insignia embroidered on the upper right hand side. He dried himself, returned to his soiled sink beside Jessica's and began shaving.

Jessica twisted her hair into a knot and clipped it in the back with a plastic jaw clip. Michael had shave cream lathered all over his face and his blue eyes contrasted nicely with his dark hair. His broad shoulders were soft and he had a gentle cascade of curly hair down his back.

"You want to learn?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Depends what you're going to teach me."

Michael was tempted to give her pointers on how to tidy up the house, but thought better of it.

"Your mother doesn't have whiskers, does she?" Michael asked, bracing himself.

Jessica's mouth opened wide and she was about to smack him, but he put down his razor and grabbed her by the wrist, twisting her gently and tickling the inside of her ribs.

"Michael, stop it!" she laughed, trying to fight her way out of his hold. She grabbed his towel and let it drop to the floor, so he stood there naked.

"You think that bothers me?" he laughed.

"I'll find your tickle spot one day!" she said, bending over so he couldn't reach her side easily.

He turned her around and used both hands to aggressively tickle her rib cage on both sides. She yelled out, "Okay! Uncle! Uncle!"

Michael laughed and released her, "Where did 'uncle' come from anyway? You always say that when we mess around."

Jessica smoothed her shirt, "It's a safe word. My dad taught Jen and I when we were small."

Michael furrowed his brows, "Safe word?"

"Yeah, you never heard of that before? You use it when you want to surrender; when you've had enough."

Michael nodded and took a pass with the razor over his face, "So, what word do you use when you don't want me to stop?"

Jessica didn't answer; instead she slapped him on the shoulder and walked away. He watched her, and waited.

She walked into the kitchen and could smell the fresh aroma of coffee brewing. As she looked towards the window overlooking the sink, she saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the counter; pink and white roses in a red heart shaped vase.

"Oh Michael! They're gorgeous!!" she said, inhaling their fragrance.

"I thought you'd like them. I wanted to help you celebrate your last day with the douche bag; especially since I'll be working late," he said, walking into the kitchen with half his face still covered in shave cream.

"I love them! Thank you!" She said, putting her arms around him, being careful not to get shave cream on her outfit.

He stuck out his lips as she did hers, so they could kiss without disturbing the cream. It looked like a scene from Popeye and Olive Oyl.

Jessica looked over at the flowers and sighed. "They're just like the first bouquet you bought me. Remember them?"

He looked at her with his arms still around her. "Like it was yesterday."
Chapter 2

Two Years Earlier

Although she could still smell the bouquet, Jessica's morning had been anything but memorable. "Hold my calls, Jessica." Ned had said flatly. He walked by her desk without eye contact. The wisp of white hair on his head swayed in the wind, and his middle jiggled with each step. His gait staggered, suggesting he could use a cane.

"Sure," she said, but he'd already shut his office door.

The phone rang and she answered on the first ring.

"Good morning, Ned Baker's office. This is Jessica."

"Good morning, may I speak with Ned please?" a gentleman asked.

"I'm sorry, but he's asked me to hold his calls. May I take a message?"

"I have a meeting with him at eleven, but I'm going to have to push it until twelve. I wondered if he wanted to meet for lunch instead."

She searched her screen in the appointment module. "Michael Garrison?" she asked.

"That's me."

"I'll change the appointment time in his schedule and send him a message. What number can you be reached at?"

He read off his cell number.

"I'll call to confirm once he's responded," she said.

"Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome. I'll be in touch."

She hung up the phone and looked at Mr. Garrison's original email. The business information on the bottom gave no indication of what he actually did. The company was a four-person name, like a law firm, and the position was so ambiguous she was afraid to guess.

The moment she clicked "send" with the updated appointment information, Ned came storming out of his office.

"Why didn't you put that call through?" he demanded.

"You told me to hold your calls." she answered, blinking rapidly.

"I meant interoffice calls; perhaps I should have been clearer," Ned said. His tone reminded her of her former grade two teacher who used to send kids to stand in the corner for coloring outside the lines.

Ned walked back in his office and closed the door. "Perhaps you should have," Jessica muttered under her breath.

An email from Ned arrived a minute later asking her to call Mr. Garrison and confirm the updated meeting time and lunch venue. She quickly dialled and he answered on the first ring.

"Michael Garrison," he answered.

"Hi there. This is Jessica Tame from Ned Baker's office."

"Gee, that was fast," he commented.

Jessica giggled, "Yes, well he can meet you at noon as you requested. Is there a venue you prefer for lunch?"

He chuckled. "Who's buying?"

Jessica paused; she had to be discreet with her comments. "Well, that depends. I'm not sure. Are you a business contact or do you know Mr. Baker personally?"

"I'm just kidding. I'll make the arrangements. Tell Mr. Baker I'll meet him at the office at 11:45." He chuckled. Jessica couldn't help smile. Ned's contacts, business or personal, weren't normally this colorful.

Ned walked out of his office at eleven-thirty.

"There's a quick meeting upstairs in the boardroom. Call me when my twelve gets here." Ned tapped the phone he kept clipped to his belt. Jessica loathed the way he referred to his clients by their estimated time of arrival.

As Ned walked out the vestibule door to the main hallway, Leslie, the receptionist appeared.

"Hey Jess, have you got any window envelopes? The office order isn't coming until tomorrow and I need a handful if you can spare some." Leslie was in her forties, short and round with thinning black hair. She had a mothering personality, but could put any of the executives in their place.

"Sure, I've got a bunch over there in that box." Jessica nodded toward the cardboard box under the photocopier. She rose out of her seat, removing her headset.

"Oh, don't worry honey, I can manage." Leslie said, waving her off.

"That's okay; I've been sitting too long. I'm getting pancake ass," Jessica said, scrunching her nose and rubbing her bottom.

"Oh please! You with pancake ass? Men would just bite harder." Leslie laughed.

"Give me a break," Jessica said, opening the box. "Darrel always told me I had a flat ass."

"Which is why you're not with him anymore," Leslie said matter-of-factly. "And let's not confuse your supposed 'flat ass' for his fat ass," She added.

Jessica giggled. "You're so terrible!"

Leslie looked around like she was going to tell Jessica a secret. "How's grumpy today?"

"Ned? Oh, the usual." Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Girl, you're so smart and so hard working; why don't you get the hell out of this place?" Leslie asked.

"Because the pay's great; I've looked and nothing matches my salary. Plus, Ned's probably going to retire soon. He's in his sixties."

"He's not getting along well with the board, either I've heard," Leslie whispered.

"Really?" Jessica said, and then looked at her watch. "Leslie, you better get out of here. Ned's got a meeting at noon and the guy's meeting him here any second."

"Thanks for the envelopes!" Leslie said, waving as she walked away. An instant later a very handsome man replaced her in the doorway.

He smiled and Jessica smiled back, holding the door open for him, "Is this Ned Baker's office?" he asked.

"Yes it is. Please come in," she said, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Are you Mr. Garrison?"

"Yes I am," he said, deftly offering her his business card with his left hand and a handshake with his right. She shook his hand and took her seat.

"I'll give Mr. Baker a call and let him know you're here. He's just upstairs in a meeting."

"Sure. Thanks." He smiled.

His dark hair was a perfect contrast to his deep blue eyes. He was tall and thin and dashing in his three-piece suit. His portfolio matched the color of his shoes and his hair was slicked back. Jessica couldn't help inhale his cologne; Darrel never wore cologne, and she was intoxicated by it.

Ned answered his phone on the first ring. She could hear raised voices in the background; it sounded like someone was having an argument. "Is he here?" he asked without preamble.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Garrison has arrived."

"Jesus. Um. I'm stuck here for the moment; ask if he wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes. I'll see if the meeting can be adjourned."

"Hold for one moment." Jessica muted the phone. "Mr. Baker is stuck in a meeting; do you mind waiting a few moments?"

"No. Not at all," he answered, smiling.

"Yes, he can wait." she answered Ned.

"Okay, call me back in five minutes," Ned said.

She hung up; meanwhile she realized she was starving. Her morning snack still sat in her handbag and she'd only had time for a mini muffin from the morning meeting. Her stomach growled loudly.

"It sounds like you could use some lunch yourself."

Jessica blushed. "Sorry, I have fast metabolism."

Her phone began to ring and she was thankful for the diversion. The call took about five minutes and she noticed that while he was fiddling with his phone during the call, he seemed to smile when she said something cute, indicating he was listening to her.

When she hung up, she called Ned again. The voices in the background were still there.

"I can't get out of this. Tell him I'll have to reschedule."

"Sure." she said, hanging up. Jessica was puzzled—why would Ned forfeit the meeting with Mr. Garrison?

"It looks like he's hung up and can't get out of it. I'm really sorry. I hope it wasn't anything important," Jessica said sincerely.

"No. He was just looking for a stock-broker. I had a feeling he was going to flake; this was the second meeting he scheduled with me."

Jessica furrowed her brows and laughed. "Okay, well, can I reschedule for him?"

"No, I usually give my prospects two chances. I don't take on deadbeat clients; no offense."

"None taken."

"In the meantime..." he said, looking at his watch. "I have reservations for lunch...care to join me?" he smiled.

Jessica's stomach began to growl again; her face turned pink.

"I'll take that as a yes."
Chapter 3

"Do you like Italian?" he asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Jessica answered.

"I made reservations at La Pasta Verde just up the street." He gestured toward the window. "Are you comfortable coming in my car or would you like to take your own?"

"If it's all the same to you I'd like to go separately. I've got some errands to run this afternoon for Ned."

"Sure. I'll see you there then." He smiled and walked out the door as Jessica grabbed her coat from behind her chair.

She pushed a button on her phone to contact reception.

"Leslie. Watch this guy coming out the door," Jessica said.

"Hubba hubba bubba," she said.

"That was Ned's twelve o'clock meeting! My job has its perks!" Jessica said, gasping for air like a teenager who just bought two hundred dollar shoes.

"Wow! Where's Ned?"

"He's still upstairs in the meeting."

"I thought so. I don't remember seeing him come back down."

"No. He couldn't get out of the boardroom, but guess what?" Jessica was bent over with excitement, trying to contain herself.

"What?" Leslie laughed.

"He asked me to lunch!"

There was a pause. "You're shitting me!" Leslie answered as if to say, "No way!"

Jessica gasped. "Jesus Leslie; I hope there's nobody around!" she laughed.

"No no; everyone's in that meeting or out to lunch. All the lines are open and everyone's phone is forwarded. I can pick my nose or shout any obscenity I want!"

"You're crazier than I am! But listen, I better go. I'm on my cell, okay?"

"Sure. Have fun."

Jessica slipped out the side door to her car. On the ride to the restaurant, she checked her hair and makeup. All was in place. She parked the car and removed her jacket. Before opening the door she looked from side to side first before sneaking a sniff of her underarms. She sighed with relief. Nobody was in sight at the entrance. Jessica entered and found Mr. Garrison waiting.

"Hey there," he said, offering his arm. "Nice to see you don't follow in your boss's footsteps." She couldn't help notice the enthralling scent of his aftershave. The hostess guided them to their table and he pulled out a chair for her.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

He removed his suit coat, draped it over the back of his seat and sat down. "So I assume we're on a first name basis, right? You can call me Michael." He offered his hand.

Jessica extended hers and laughed. "That depends. Who's buying?" She winked at him and continued "I'm Jessica."

Michael smiled and gently shook her hand. She couldn't help inhaling his cologne. It was magnificent.

"You'll have to excuse Ned. He's polite and respectful as a rat. His only loyalty is to his coworkers; and that doesn't include me by the way, only management."

"Sounds like my old boss. I don't answer to anyone now; I'm my own boss—and most days—I like me." he said, pointing to himself with both thumbs.

"I think I like you too, but the jury's still out," Jessica joked.

The waitress delivered two menus and two glasses of water. Jessica picked up a menu and perused.

Michael began. "So since you accepted my invitation to lunch, I'll assume you aren't spoken for?"

She put down the menu. "No, I was in a long-term relationship that ended a few months ago. You?"

"I was engaged."

Jessica smiled. "Why didn't it work?"

"I caught her cheating," he said, coughing into his hand, as if he was trying to conceal his answer.

"Really? My guy was just a loser. No motivation in life; he was a terrible slob, and he didn't take care of himself at all. He spent his pay checks on junk food and drinks, and put on sixty pounds in the three years we dated. It was going nowhere."

Michael lifted his water glass. "Here's to the losers we dated. May they be as miserable without us as we were with them."

"Here, here," Jessica said as they clinked glasses.

Jessica couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. It sent shivers down her spine when he spoke; his attention was all hers.

"Do you know what you'd like to order?" he asked, setting down his menu.

"The chicken parmesan here is fantastic; I'll order that with a glass of wine," she said, setting down her menu. As she did, her finger inadvertently grazed his from under her menu. He didn't move his finger and she slowly took hers away. His blue eyes met hers and he smiled warmly.

"I'll have the same," he said, just as the waitress stopped at the table.

"Two chicken parmesans please, and a bottle of your best white wine," Michael instructed politely. The waitress nodded and walked away.

"So tell me more about your job," Jessica said.

Michael took another sip of water and set his glass down, contemplating his exact words.

"Well, as I said earlier, I work for myself. I have my own roster of clients and my job is to manage their stock portfolio."

"So how come your email lists you as an employee of such and such...and such?" Jessica asked, half laughing.

"That's the brokerage firm I'm registered with. You can't legally buy or sell stocks unless you're listed with a firm. It's kind of like being a realtor."

Jessica nodded.

"I know, pretty boring stuff. But it pays well and some of the stocks are so interesting...to a stock broker that is."

"Oh yeah? What's interesting about them?" Jessica said, taking a sip of water.

"Some of them have unique names and short forms; they all have a story. Like this one stock, Saigon, it's a ghost company in Bali. They're developing what will be the most coveted product of this decade."

Jessica smiled and asked, "What's the product?"

"They manufacture telecommunications equipment. I think they'll be the next RIM. One day I'm going to Bali for a tour."

"Don't they have a website or something?"

"Yeah, but it's all Indonesian; so most people steer clear. Say, do you know anyone who speaks Indonesian or Malaysian?" he joked.

Jessica shook her head and smiled.

"I started buying their stocks years ago, when I was still in school. Little by little at first, but now I own most of the shares. It's just a waiting game now; one day they'll reach their potential and I'll be rich."

"How do you know?" Jessica asked, sipping her water.

Michael put his index finger to his temple. "I've been watching them since I bought my first share. I'm like the babysitter."

Jessica shook her head as the waitress delivered the bottle of wine. She set two champagne flutes on the table and poured delicately as Michael and Jessica watched. Michael stole a glance at Jessica and she caught him; he smiled.

"Lunch will be here in just a few moments," the waitress said. She set the remaining wine in a decanter on the table, and walked away.

"What about you? How long have you worked for Ned?" Michael asked.

"I've been there about two years, but with Ned only six months."

"What do you do when you're not working?"

"I love to garden. You show me a plant or flower of any kind and I'll name it and tell you how to care for it. I have a membership at the Y, too, so I often go swimming, or I work out."

Michael smiled and didn't look away from her.

"What else?" Jessica continued, "Oh, I love movies and collecting movie memorabilia." she paused, sensing she was rambling. "What about you?"

"My interests are slightly eclectic, although I too am a collector, but mine is electric train sets. My great grandfather started me and I've been hooked since I was a wee boy." Michael's hand flattened and went down to the side of his leg, demonstrating his youthful height.

"Really? That's so cool. I'd like to see that some time." Jessica said and then her eyes widened as she realized how presumptuous it sounded.

The comment didn't faze Michael, "Sure, and I'd like to see your movie memorabilia sometime." He nodded as though he had a ten gallon hat on and clinked Jessica's wine glass with his.

She felt a wave of relief, but she also couldn't help feeling like they'd just bonded.

Lunch arrived and they ate quietly. Both were very impressed with the meal and as such, traded compliments like "wow, this chicken is so tender and juicy" and "the noodles are so tasty."

When the meal was over, Michael began. "So, what time are you expected back at the office?"

Jessica stole a glance at her watch. "Hm. I have some errands, but I imagine I'm free for at least another half hour; I came in early."

"Do you feel like taking a walk? Say...along the waterfront? It's only a five minute drive from here," Michael asked.

Jessica couldn't resist his smile. "That sounds delightful."

Michael paid the bill while Jessica used the ladies room, and they met in the parking lot.

"Do you still feel like riding alone or would you like to accompany me in my car? It's freshly washed and waxed, I promise." Michael waved toward his car.

"Just let me grab my jacket." Jessica smiled and retrieved her coat from her car. Michael stood by the passenger side door and waited to open it for her.

"After you."

"Thank you, kind sir."

As they drove to the waterfront, which was literally five minutes away, Michael said, "Describe your life...in three words or less."

Jessica took a deep breath and laid her head on the headrest, noting the plush comfort of the leather. She closed her eyes and could feel Michael's gaze.

"Predictable, disorganized, quiet." Jessica's eyes opened. Michael put the car into park and turned towards her.

"Impressive," he said. "Now the question is: would you like to change any of those?"

Jessica thought for a moment. "Wait a minute. What are your three words?"

Michael smiled. "Impressive still." he cocked his head. "Most women can't wait for me to define what those words mean or analyze them." he paused.

"Spontaneous, calculated...risky." He looked at her and waited for her response.

"So we're opposites," she mused.

"Either that or I just made that up. It's a great pickup line, don't you think?" he laughed.

She laughed. "FYI: it's not working."

Michael smiled and opened his door. He walked around to her side and opened the door for her.

When she exited, he said, "Although, sometimes opposites attract, no?"

As he bent down to close the door behind her, he was close enough to kiss her. Her gaze went to his lips and his met hers, but neither made a move.

Jessica draped her jacket over her shoulders and he looped his arm in hers. They began walking. She could feel the muscle in his forearm wrapping over hers and it made her shiver.

"It's beautiful here this time of year, don't you think?" Michael asked.

"That it is. I haven't been here in ages."

"Too busy at the Y?" he joked.

Her eyes rolled and she leaned into him slightly. He reciprocated and their heads touched gently. Neither retracted; touching each other seemed as natural as breathing.

The waves were calm and the tide was low. There wasn't a soul around. At that moment it was as if Jessica and Michael were all that existed.

They walked for several minutes until they reached the end of the waterfront, where there was a line of trees leading into some brush.

"Shall we turn around? I should get you back before Ned goes postal," Michael said, turning around to face her.

She didn't answer. Instead, she looked at him like he hadn't spoken, like she was in a spell.

He reached out and brushed her face with the back of his hand, concerned. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded and smiled gently, not taking her eyes off his lips. He leaned in, cradling her face in his warm hand, and kissed her gently on the lips. It felt like a feather lightly grazing her bottom lip.

He looked up at her and her eyes remained closed. His other hand came around and gently grasped her side. Her hands wrapped around his neck and she drew him in, grasping his lips in hers. Their tongues met quickly and she could feel his hand caress the top of her buttocks. Her mouth widened and she ran her fingers through his hair, noting the softness. His mouth widened in response and she felt his breath on her cheek. When they parted, he smiled.

"What was in that wine?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said, blushing.

"Well, I'm buying shares of that," he said, taking her arm in his. She smiled and leaned into his arm.

He drove her back to the restaurant, where there was a line up wrapped around the building. "Friday afternoon; who knew?" he said, pecking her on the cheek.

"Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked.

"I am." She smiled.

"I'll call you." He winked and walked to his car.

She ran errands for the majority of the afternoon, returning to the office two and a half hours later. Leslie wore a knowing smirk on her face when Jessica entered the front door.

"Lunch must have been really good." she said, replacing the handset on the cradle.

"It was," she whispered, trying to contain her smile. "Where's Ned?"

"He left already. The meeting finished about twenty minutes ago. He didn't call you?"

"No. But he knew the shitload of stuff he gave me to do for him. Bastard."

Leslie looked at her with that same smirk.

Jessica saw the smirk, "What?" she asked, her eyes momentarily dark under furrowed brows.

"Nothing," Leslie teased.

Suspicious, Jessica fluffed her hair and checked her reflection in the glass-topped reception desk. "Is there something in my teeth?"

Leslie relented. "No." she laughed. "Just go to your office. It's almost time to go anyway. Have a nice weekend."

Jessica looked conspiratorially at her as she walked away.

When she opened her office door, on her desk was a beautiful bouquet of pink and white roses in a red heart-shaped vase.
Chapter 4

Present Day—Michael checks up on his friend Jack, awaiting news of his coveted stock deal, so they know whether their planned celebratory guy's night out is going to happen.

"Jack? Michael. What's the story? Did you get the deal?"

"No word yet. The bastards are waiting 'til the last minute. What a shocker."

"Why don't we go anyway?"

"Because Rita will have a shit if I take off again without a damn good reason."

Michael was about to start speaking, but Jack interrupted.

"And don't give me any of your shit, either. I don't need another one of your fucking lectures on marriage. You're not even married, I don't see where you get all the goddamn knowledge from."

Michael nodded his head and bounced the eraser on the end of his pencil up and down, laughing gently.

"I wasn't—" Michael started.

"Oh bullshit! You can't even get her to marry you, you asshole! Ah!" Jack said, relenting. "It's no use talking to you."

"Geez; you're in an especially bad mood today." Michael laughed.

"Ah, screw you! I'll call you when I get word."

"I love you."

"Screw off!" Jack said as he slammed the phone on its cradle. "Goddamn pansy."

Alex was walking by and overheard part of the exchange. "Why don't you tell him what you really think of him, Jack?"

Jack waved as if to say goodbye; seemingly willing him to go away.

"Was that Michael?'

"Who else?" he answered, as if it was the most ridiculous question.

"Did you tell him we're going to the boat?"

"No, because I don't know that yet!"

"Oh, come on! You know we're going!" Alex said, his head cocked to the side.

"NO, I DON'T! Heming hasn't given me an answer yet! You know that! What is it with you?"

Alex dismissed the question.

"What's so special about Heming, anyway? It's not like Saigon or Brougemount...or Maxis."

Jack sighed and shook his head. "Heming is obtainable for me. I'm an old man, not like you young lads. Saigon is Michael's baby and Maxis...well, Maxis is for billionaires."

Alex searched the floor; he had a curious smile on his face. "You think he'll ever give up on Saigon?"

"Does a mother ever give up on her baby?" Jack answered, looking Alex straight in the eye.

"Christ, he's been after that since he started. Bought his first shares of stock from Saigon. He didn't even know the exchange symbol for it when he laid out his life savings on it. Foolish boy."

"Why has he kept it for so long?" Alex asked, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

Jack lifted his wrinkled index finger and greying eyebrows simultaneously. "Ah, because to him it's like a unicorn. He's a dreamer. Look at the woman he's with."

"Jessica?"

"Jessica. Beautiful, smart, devoted; she's everything he could want in a woman."

"Yeah."

"But she won't marry him."

Alex pondered for a moment, pulling his pants up from his non-existent waist. "But he stays with her."

Jack shook his head, his brows furrowed with impatience. "No, no, you idiot!" He slammed his fist on the desk.

"He stays with her because he's a dreamer." Jack's voice lowered to a growl.

"Really?" Alex said, then he remembered the first time he met Michael and Jessica. It was his first day on the job, and Michael had come by to visit Jack.

It was a summer afternoon, two years earlier...

* * *

Michael held out his hand and Alex shook it.

"Pleased to meet you; I've heard lots about you," Alex said, aiming his chin at Jack.

"Good grief; well, I'm sure none of it's true." Michael laughed, his face turning a bit pink.

Jack intercepted, "What are you doing here anyway, Michael? It's after six."

"I met with a client over on Elm St. I'm meeting Jess for a movie."

"So where's Jess? She doesn't want to see me?" Jack asked, feeling bruised.

Michael waved. "Naw, she couldn't get tickets over the internet. She's gone to pick them up. Just waiting for her text."

Michael addressed Alex. "So, how's the old man been treating you?" he asked, putting his arm roughly around Jack's shoulders. Jack smiled ruefully.

"Ah, he's just showing me the ropes. I've been working more with Giles and Mick."

Michael's face lit up, "Ho HO! You mean Beavis and Butthead?"

Jack tried to hide the smirk and began shuffling around some papers on his desk.

Alex grimaced. "I thought they looked vaguely familiar,"

Michael chuckled and then checked his phone, which was vibrating, "Oh, there's Jess. Shit. The movie's sold out; there's nothing decent left."

Alex cleared his throat, "Me and Jack were just about to head over to my boat. You and Jess are welcome to join us." Alex offered.

"Thanks. I'll ask Jess." Michael said, responding to her text.

"Gotta check with the old lady still, eh?" Jack said.

Michael smiled and cocked his head to the side. He was about to fire back his own retort when his phone vibrated again. Smiling, he said, "We'll see you there."

When Michael opened the gate that led to Alex's boat, he heard Jessica gasp, "Holy shit! Is this guy made of money?"

The boat, or yacht, stood almost two stories high and was long enough to sprint through without hitting a wall. Michael closed the gate and crept up behind her, putting his arms around her waist, "Not nearly as rich as I am," he said, kissing her neck tenderly.

Jessica reached up and touched his neck, "You ever wanted something like that?" she nodded at the boat.

"Some day," he said, "I have a plan"

Alex appeared on deck. "Hey guys!" He waved. "Over here!"

Michael waved back, "We should go. You don't mind do you?"

Jessica furrowed her brows, "Of course not. I haven't seen Jack forever, and all you've been talking about is how he won't shut up about this Alex guy."

"Welcome," Alex said, helping Jessica up to the deck, "I'm Alex."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jessica." Alex gently kissed her hand and she blushed.

Michael cleared his throat, "Jack been into the sauce yet or is it still safe?"

"I heard that," Jack called from the cabin.

"Shit," Michael said under his breath, "Hey buddy, long time no see!"

Michael shook Jack's hand as he entered the cabin, "Smells great in here. What is that? Pizza?"

Jack nodded, "Picked it up on the way in."

Directly inside the cabin was the kitchen, complete with everything you'd see in a full size kitchen, except on a smaller scale. Behind the kitchen was a living area; including a recliner, full size couch and a small wing chair. On the left by the wet bar was the guest washroom and on the right was the guest bedroom. The master bedroom was at the very back of the cabin.

"You want a tour first, or do you want to eat?" Jack asked Jessica.

"Well, first I'd like a hug, old man." She smiled, embracing him.

"Get...a...room," Michael whispered in Jack's ear as he squeezed by to grab two paper plates off the counter.

"Where's Rita tonight?" Jessica asked Jack.

"She took Maggie and the grandkids to the movies."

"Ah," said Jessica, "And Grampa didn't want to go?"

Michael handed her a slice of pizza.

Jack grumbled, "I hate the movies....no beer there."

"I'm glad you can admit to that," Michael joked.

Jack raised his eyebrows, "We all have our vices, son."

Michael ignored the comment. "Alex, how long you had this...er...boat for?"

Alex looked up at the ceiling in deep thought, "Um...let's see, I'm thirty-four, so...about four or five years?"

"You bought this at thirty? What am I doing wrong?" Michael laughed.

Alex smirked and looked at the floor, catching Jack's eye. Jack was about to say something, but Alex interrupted, "Er...my parents actually bought it for me...um...for my birthday."

Michael almost choked on his pizza. When he recovered he said, "Wow, I got a gold pen."

Jessica intervened, "And what a beautiful gold pen it is." She laughed.

Later, after pizza, Jack took Jessica for the promised tour, while Alex and Michael sat at the table playing cards.

Alex took a sip of beer, "How long you been running the business on your own now?" he asked, tipping his chin up and shuffling his cards, fanning them closer together in his hand.

Michael loosened his tie and undid the top button, "I don't know...about three or four years now. Jess and I weren't even together then."

"How'd you start it?" Alex dealt his card.

"I don't know. I'd been keeping a roster of clients before, when I worked with Jack. I guess it just took off from there. I got registered and never looked back."

Alex watched Michael deal his card, "You want another beer?" Alex asked.

"Na, that's it for me; I'm driving."

Alex nodded.

"So what's your story?" Michael asked, handing Alex the rest of the deck.

"What do you want to know?" he answered, somewhat guarded.

"I don't know, you got any siblings, where are you from..." then he smiled, "Where did you find your parents, and are there any to spare?"

Alex smirked, "Yeah. But hey, you're not doing too bad yourself, right?" Michael looked at him with furrowed brows.

Alex caught the look, "I mean, you drive a Beamer, Jack's told me about your fancy condo, you dress nicely and hey, look at your girlfriend." Alex sniffed.

Michael shrugged, "What about my girlfriend?" he said, as though he'd forgotten something.

Alex craned his neck back and leaned his head in, like he was about to tell a secret, "She's HOT!" he whispered.

Michael turned red as Jessica entered the room, "Hey guys. You done playing?"

Alex cleared his throat, "Er...yep."

Jessica turned to Michael, "You ready to go? Or you staying?"

Jack closed in behind her and put his hands gently on her shoulders, looking directly at Michael, "If you don't want to go home with her, I will."

Alex laughed, turning red, "Or apparently he will, too, judging by the shade he's turning," Jack said.

Michael cleared his throat and rose, smoothing his pants, "My lady," he said, extending his hand to Jessica.

Jessica blew a kiss to Alex and Jack, "Thanks for a lovely evening, gentlemen."

"Thanks guys!" Michael waved, and they disappeared through the door.

When the door closed, Jack turned to Alex and said, "Of all the stocks, money and assets that boy's got, she's the one he treasures most."

"Amen."

* * *

It was a good memory, but Jack pulled Alex rudely back into the present day. He shouted, "Jesus! You guys are all daydreamers! Are you on something?"

Alex nodded out of his reverie, and turned to exit Jack's office.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know...about the boat." Jack said, turning to his computer.

Alex stood for a moment. Jack sensed his presence, stopped typing and looked up over his bifocals.

"Is there something else?"

"You heard anything about Maxis lately?" Alex asked. His tall, slender body barely filled the door opening. He lifted his head and pushed his glasses up again.

Jack inhaled deeply and turned back toward his computer. "No, I haven't heard anything about Maxis. You're in way over your head anyway; way over mine for that matter." Jack continued typing as Alex walked towards the door.

"My brother Stan's coming this weekend. Do you think anyone would mind?"

"Fine," Jack said under his breath.

Alex walked out the door.

* * *

Michael pulled up to the parking garage outside the condominium and retrieved his fob from the key ring. He waved it over the sensor and the door opened. Jessica's car was already in her spot. After his car alarm bleeped, the elevator door opened and he ran to catch it. When it stopped at the main floor, Michael was pleasantly surprised to see Jessica enter, holding the mail.

"Hey, I know you," she said, smiling. She greeted him with a quick kiss on the lips.

"You had a nice day," Michael observed.

"I did. Goodbye Ned, hello new guy."

"Did you get to meet him?"

"No; Monday. But I hear he's really nice."

"Oh yeah? Who says?" Michael asked, taking the handful of mail out of her hand.

"Leslie and a few of the other girls in the office." Jessica blushed.

He shuffled a few envelopes and took one out, studying it carefully. "So when you say 'nice,' you mean 'cute, handsome, a stud muffin' I'm guessing?"

Jessica smirked, "One can only hope."

Michael stashed the mail under his arm. Jessica saw him look at her with that playful I'm-going-to-get-you look in his eye and she bolted to the back of the elevator. The elevator shifted slightly with the change in weight distribution, and Michael caught hold of her elbow, lifting it slightly to get connect with her ribcage. He aggressively tickled it until she screamed, "Uncle!"

The elevator rang their floor. Michael sighed, "Oh, saved by the bell."

Jessica smoothed her shirt and playfully smacked him on the shoulder as she exited the elevator. The door closed as they reached their apartment.

"So, cute huh?" Michael joked.

"Anything's better than old, cranky, disrespectful and gross. He could have horns and I wouldn't care."

Michael shuffled through the mail as Jessica retrieved her keys from her purse.

"Anything interesting in there?" Jessica asked, inserting the key into the hole.

"A wedding invitation from my cousin. Wasn't expecting that."

"Oh yeah? Which cousin?" Jessica asked, placing her handbag on the counter and taking a container of leftovers from the refrigerator.

"Stephanie; from my aunt on my father's side. Aunt Mary must be going ape-shit." Michael giggled.

"Why? They've been together longer than us, haven't they?"

"Yeah, but my mom and Mary had a bet going. I'm not supposed to know about that."

"How'd you find out?" Her brows furrowed as she placed the take-out in the microwave.

"Uncle Larry got drunk a few months back and let it slip."

Jessica laughed. "When's the wedding?"

Michael paused and looked at the bottom of the invitation. "Jesus. It's only two weeks away." He looked at the back of it and frowned, "Is it a shotgun wedding or what?"

"I guess you better give your mother a call later, huh?" With her back leaning on the counter, she placed her left foot over the right, arms crossed over her chest.

Michael gave her a knowing look. "Don't you start; I still haven't told her we hired Marsha to clean up around here."

Jessica guffawed and walked away. Along the way to the bedroom, she stuck her head in the bathroom and noticed how clean Michael's side was. "She must have spent all day in here."

The microwave beeped. Jessica headed back towards the kitchen. Michael was serving his portion on to a paper plate. "Why don't you use real plates?"

He looked at her and frowned. "Is it a special occasion?"

Jessica nodded and took the paper bucket out of his hand, without a plate, and began gnawing on a chicken leg.

"Guess not."

"Where's the wedding?" she asked between swallows.

"Atlanta."

Her eyebrows lifted. "How come so far away? Don't they live in Florida?"

Michael's cell phone began to ring. He lifted it out of his back pocket. "He works there. They live in Atlanta."

He pushed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hey Jack, what's the word?"

"Hey, you shithead! I got it!" Jack yelled.

Michael smiled. "Well then what the hell are you doing still at work? You should be out chuggin' brewskies at Philly's!"

"Later—you wanna join me?"

"Na, I'll catch you on the weekend. Assuming that's still on?"

Jessica looked at Michael and winked.

"Damn right! Lord knows when Rita will loosen the chains again!"

Michael laughed. "Sounds good. So, Alex's boat?"

"Absolutely! And don't bring your damn laptop this time or you'll have to have it surgically removed from your colon."

"No problem. See you then."

Michael placed the phone on the table and took the seat next to Jessica.

"You wanna come?" he asked, serving a plastic fork full of rice into his mouth.

She looked at him like he had two heads. "Yeah right," she scoffed.

"You can come," he said sincerely.

"I can think of ten things I'd much rather be doing."

"You're going to your parent's then?"

"Probably; but it's only Wednesday. I haven't asked about the cottage yet."

"Ask if they wouldn't mind us using it next weekend."

Jessica hesitated, remembering their last visit to the cottage; the weekend Michael proposed.

"Uh...sure."

"Come on, we could use a weekend away," he said.

"You, me, some fishing, some wine. We won't even shower." Michael looked at her and saw the smile.

"Sounds romantic," she said sarcastically.

"I wasn't thinking about romance. I was thinking about a change of pace. We should think about getting a cottage ourselves."

"Really? You'd want to do that?" Jessica asked, scooping some rice onto her plate.

"Sure. Why not? We've always had fun at your parent's. Well, except that one time..." He playfully elbowed her in the side.

"Michael...that's not funny."

"I know. I'm sorry. Forget I brought it up," he said sincerely.

"What do you want to do tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I've got some work, but after we can watch a movie or something if you'd like."

"Oh yeah, I thought you were working late tonight," Jessica said, rising to get a drink.

"I can do it from home; it's just some Saigon stuff anyway."

"It figures," she retorted and guffawed as Michael's eyes rolled. She ignored the look. "Hey, your mother would love it if we got a cottage, wouldn't she? Although she'd expect us to get one with at least three rooms, right?"

"Oh, don't start!"

"Well it's true! She had a cow when we bought this place."

"You're exaggerating," Michael said under his breath.

"Uh...no, remember? She wouldn't even come over for the first three months."

"Neither did your parents."

"That's not because they didn't like the apartment," she said.

"Oh really?" he said, matter-of-factly. Michael rose and snatched his plate up; there was still a quarter left unfinished.. Then he walked into the kitchen and threw the remains of his dinner into the garbage and slammed the lid down.

"You know what? I think I will join Jack for drinks," he said,

"Fine!" Jessica called. "I thought you had Saigon stuff to do! I wouldn't want you to sacrifice a night without that!"

Michael shook his head and smiled. He picked his phone up off the table, placed it in his back pocket and walked towards the door. "Have a nice evening," he said, and closed the door tightly.

"Tell Jack I said hi," she said, glaring at the closed door.
Chapter 5

Jack was taking a sip of beer at the bar when he saw Michael enter. He had to look twice. Then he furrowed his brows and smiled.

"I didn't expect to see you here."

Michael sighed. "Jessica and I had a fight."

"Oh?" Jack said, signalling the bartender to bring another beer.

"Yeah. I don't really want to talk about it. It was just stupid stuff anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary," he said, removing his wallet from his back pocket.

"I've got this," Jack said, motioning for Michael to put his wallet away.

"Thanks." The bartender opened the beer with a bottle opener and handed it to him.

Jack knew Michael better.

"So what was it this time? She still won't marry you or you're working too much?"

Michael looked at him as he bent his head back, taking a long sip. He took his time swallowing almost half the bottle's contents. Jack furrowed his brows and cocked his head to the side.

"Oh dear," Jack mumbled under his breath.

Michael nodded, looking down as he peeled the label off the bottle. A few minutes passed and Jack decided to change the subject.

"Alex is on my case again."

"What is it this time? Using you as a reference library or looking for insider trading?"

Jack mimicked Michael's earlier behaviour by taking a long sip of beer. When the bottle was empty, Michael ordered two more.

"It's too bad he doesn't have it together," Jack explained as the bartender delivered two more bottles of beer. Michael threw a ten on the counter as Jack continued.

"The potential in him's overwhelming. He's smart, talented, has a shitload of money, but the guy's as lazy as a bull dog."

Michael paused. "He'll get it together. If he's half as good at establishing a portfolio as he is at planning weekend parties, we have no worries." He half laughed.

Jack looked at him. "I wish he had your passion."

Michael waved him off and began peeling the label from his second beer.

Jack continued. "He's not married, not committed, he has more money than I'll ever have, but he lacks the hunger. I hoped the silver spoon would fall out of his mouth a long time ago."

"It'll happen. Either that or he'll realize he's not into it. Alex is a good kid, just believe in him like you did me and everything'll work out."

Jack patted him on the knee and smiled. "You're such a good kid." Then he looked him straight in the eye and pointed at him with his index finger. "Now what's going on with Jessica, huh? Is it the other woman again?" he joked.

Michael rolled his eyes. "You're drunk."

Jack laughed. "Come on. Drive me home so I can get laid. Rita always puts out when I get a new account."

Michael smiled. "Really? Even if you come home drunk?"

Jack lifted his eyebrows and went almost nose to nose with Michael. "Especially when I'm drunk."

Michael looked puzzled.

"Less work," Jack answered.

"How is it less—" Michael put his hand up like a salute and continued. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

Jack waved him off and as he walked away he added, "I fall asleep faster."

* * *

Jessica awoke alone in bed and slapped the alarm button on the clock before the next bleep. She rubbed her eyes and wiped a bead of drool off the side of her mouth and headed off to the washroom. After relieving herself, she tiptoed to the living room to find exactly what she suspected: Michael laying face down on his desk. His hand was still on the mouse pad and the monitor was in sleep mode. A quick keystroke revealed what he'd been working on: of course, the NYSE and Saigon's primary site was up.

Michael let out a brief snore and lifted his head slightly. The brightness of the screen caused him to squint.

"You're going to kill yourself before you're forty," Jessica said.

"Apparently I've got nothing to live for."

She turned and put her hands on her waist. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, you won't marry me. Saigon's stagnant. All I've got to show for my life is my car and this condo." Michael ran his hands through his hair and slammed his palm down on the desk.

Jessica stood and stared for a moment, trying to read his face. "How much did you drink last night?"

"Not much," he answered, looking straight at her.

"Did you take a downer or something? I've never heard you talk like this." Her face registered concern.

He swallowed.

She wasn't sure if the redness in his eyes was from lack of sleep, drink or maybe he was holding back tears.

"You know I hate it when we fight," he said solemnly.

Jessica walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He leaned his head into her front and put his arms around her waist. He turned his head to the side and she ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him.

"You know I love you more than anything," she said, taking a deep breath. She could feel him nodding.

"I want you to be happy..." There was a pause. "But I have to be happy too..."

There was another pause. He lifted his head and rested his chin on her front. Her hands moved to his cheeks. "Are you happy?" he asked.

"Just the way we are." She smiled.

He turned his head to the side again and held her tighter. She began rocking from side to side, rubbing his head with her hands.

"You're what I live for Jess."

Jessica smoothed his hair with her hand and bent down to kiss his head. "How do you do that?" she said softly.

Michael looked up, leaning his chin on her belly. "Do what?"

"I was so angry with you for having stayed up all night again, and now I just want to take you in my arms and squeeze you."

He rose and put his fingers under her chin. "It's a gift."

He kissed her softly on the lips and then turned his head to the side and kissed her deeper. She welcomed his touch and ran her hands through his hair, grabbing a handful. Michael let go of her waist and lifted her up into his arms. As he entered their bedroom, he kissed her neck as she undid the tie on her robe.

Jessica recognized the longing look in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she reached up and took his face in her hands, kissing him gently. As she opened her mouth, he lowered her onto the bed. Michael removed his shirt with one quick motion and opened her robe, revealing her satin nightgown. Jessica drank in his muscular chest and soft curly hair. He ran his hand down her flank, feeling the smoothness of her skin.

He planted soft kisses on her chest and neck as she reached with her foot and gently removed his pants. Michael stood, leaning over her in his boxer shorts, nose to nose with her. "I hate it when we fight," he whispered.

"I love it when we make up," Jessica replied, running her thumb over his bottom lip. She bent down and removed his boxers. Michael shimmied down to the hem of her nightgown and nipped it in his mouth. Slowly he brought it up her leg, running his lips on every inch of her skin on his journey.

Jessica moaned; waiting for him to reach her favorite spot seemed like an eternity. When he reached her upper thigh, Michael watched as her chest rose and her breasts stood erect under her nightgown; he watched with both love and lust in his eyes.

Michael stood on his knees and removed her nightgown, while she sat up and took hold of him.

"Oh lord, Jess, what you do to me," he breathed as she positioned herself on her knees.

Jessica could feel her insides pulse with desire. She lifted up so they were face to face. She could see the small pout on his mouth and she quickly kissed him.

He lifted her up onto his thighs and she rose and fell back on him, watching his eyes close with pleasure. They continued in a pattern until he couldn't take it any longer. His hands supported her back as he gently lowered her down and lay on top of her.

He grasped her hands above her head and they interlaced fingers as she pressed her eyelids closed and gasped.

"You don't play fair," Michael said breathlessly as she clenched her interior muscles, putting him over the edge. Michael collapsed on top of her as they both felt their release.

"Uncle?" he said.

Jessica nodded, answering breathlessly, "Uncle".

"You better go get ready. The new boss man starts today, right?" he said, lifting his head.

Jessica glanced at the clock overhead and nodded. Michael stood and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
Chapter 6

Mark was startled awake by the phone. He recognized the number right away.

"Noonan, what's going on?" Mark asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It took him a moment to recall that Officer Noonan was on the beat with his partner, Officer Hobbs.

"I'm over at the penitentiary. There's been a murder."

"Grayside or Leemington?" Mark asked, looking at the alarm clock. It was four-thirty in the morning.

"Grayside. I've already called Matthews, he's on his way," Noonan said.

"Okay, give me...er...fifteen minutes." Mark said.

"See you shortly, sir."

The phone clicked and Mark dialled Richard's number.

"Hiya Chief. Been invited to another party I see," Richard said.

"Looks like. Did you hear anything on the squawk box?"

"Na, Lisa won't let me listen to it anymore. She says it's gonna give junior a complex. She doesn't want the baby to think it's normal to answer questions with ten-four or copy."

Mark laughed, putting his pants on. Shelley lay in bed, sleeping peacefully.

"Fair enough. I'll see you shortly." Mark hung up.

When he arrived at Grayside Maximum Security Penitentiary, the paddy wagon, the crime scene investigation truck and the coroner's van were already there. He felt like he was late for a funeral. It was still dark outside, but the clouds had a silvery glow, indicating the sun would be up soon.

The building was cold and grey. Mark thought it à propos naming it "Greyside." The guard at the front gate let Mark in and instructed him to park along the south side of the building with the other police cruisers. After shutting off the engine, Mark observed the metal fence with barbed wire lining the top. There was a small baseball diamond and what appeared to be a track and field facility beside it.

These guys have better accommodations than the local high school, he thought. Mark proceeded into the building where he met another guard. He saw Richard just inside the gate and they exchanged a salute.

"The place is a mess," Richard said.

Mark furrowed his brows.

"The guy was butchered, they're saying. Apparently there's blood everywhere."

"Apparently?" Mark asked.

Richard shook his head and stared at the floor.

Mark pursed his lips. "Who's staying with Lisa when she has the baby?"

Richard lifted his head with a puzzled look on his face, obviously wondering why Mark would bring the subject up now.

"I am. Why?"

"You're going to be in the delivery room?"

"Yeah," Richard said incredulously.

"Better get used to the sight of blood, my friend."

Richard guffawed as Mark walked towards the cell entrance.

Then he turned to Richard, "And the screaming." he added.

Richard shook his head. Mark couldn't tell if he was smiling or was about to cry.

The guard ushered Richard and Mark into the main area where the cells were located. Each cell had its own remotely controlled barred door, and each floor was separated by another similar gate. They passed two gates on the way to the first set of cells on the main floor.

Richard walked next to Mark and said, "This is maximum security, huh. What do they do when there's a power failure?"

The guard overheard and responded, "Backup generator." His voice was gruff.

Richard was startled. He didn't think the guard could hear him.

When they reached the cell in question, they saw Paul, the lead crime scene investigator, still processing the scene.

"What have we got here Paul?" Mark asked.

Richard stood outside the cell, trying to make it look like he was inspecting the locks. The cell was covered in blood spatter in various areas. Most of the blood pooled on the bed, so there wasn't much on the floor. The surfaces of the walls, sink and toilet were punctuated with small speckles.

The victim lay in parts. His torso was on the bed, and although he'd been decapitated, his head was where it should be, with a ragged gap through his neck. It looked like the murderer finished with the victim's left arm. The fingers had been hacked but remained on his hand; his right arm lay at the bottom of the bed. The victim's legs were intact but hanging off the side of the bed, like he'd been thrown.

"All this was done pre-mortem. The head was cut off last," Paul said.

Against his stomach's better advice, Richard stole a glance. There was something shiny on the floor under the bed. He tried to focus on that, shutting out most of the gore. He approached the object, first grabbing a pair of gloves from the examiner's box.

"We've got the murder weapon right here," Richard said, picking up a large meat cleaver.

"Do we know who did it?" Mark asked to nobody in particular.

The guard answered, "Tim Hayward. Tiny Tim, he's called. Been in for a couple years for murder. The guy's not all there when it comes to inmates, but sure knows how to set up booby traps for the night guards."

Mark looked puzzled. "What do you mean not all there?"

"He had a brain injury a few years ago. Some accident at the gym. The guy's built like a brick shithouse. But the wiring in his noggin' was off after that. He started killing people for things like making fun of his kid brother. That's how he landed here. He's killed two other guys since he's been here."

"Why isn't he kept out of the general population? How'd he end up in this guy's cell?" Richard asked.

"He was in solitary. He got out. The guy's smart as hell with some things, not so much with others. We're just thankful he didn't kill the guard like the last time."

"So who's the victim? What do we know about him?" Mark asked.

"He's Chuck Menage. Been in for multiple crimes. He's killed a few. Says he was framed, but don't they all." The guard picked at his teeth with his key.

"So what caused 'Tiny Tim' to kill Chuck here?" Richard asked.

"Who knows," the guard said, irritated. "Chuck probably said his mother was a whore."

The guard walked away, leaving Mark, Richard and Paul in the cell with the body. Mark leaned down to get a closer look at the victim's pants.

"What are you thinking?" Richard said, placing the meat cleaver in an evidence bag.

"I'm thinking we need to talk to Tiny,"

"Yeah. I think our guard knows more than he's telling us," Richard said,

"I agree."

Mark pulled on a pair of gloves and reached into the victim's front pocket. There was something poking out of the left one, where the smaller inner pocket was.

"You got a pair of tweezers, Paul?" Mark asked,

"Sure," Paul said, handing him a pair.

Mark stuck the tweezers in the pocket and pulled out a card. It was just a card for a local pub, but there was a phone number on the back, no name attached. Mark handed the card to Richard.

"Bag this, will ya," Mark said, and then sighed.

He turned to the victim. "Tell me, Chuck. Just what did you do to piss off a guy in solitary?"

"Must have been something serious if he found a way to make it all the way over here," Richard said.

"What I want to know is how did Chuck get to him in solitary? Tiny's already gotten out before. Question is; how did Chuck get to solitary? And if Chuck got over to solitary, why didn't Tiny kill him there? Why did he come all the way back to Chuck's cell to kill him?"

"Looks like we better go talk to Tiny," Richard said.

Smashwords

Other Books in the Series

Thanks so much for reading The Wife of a Lesser Man. This book was the first one I wrote that made me pull my hair out! My editor had me revise it so many times! But in the end I learned so much from writing and editing that I can never go back. And I loved the characters so much I wrote two others with Mark Tame, Richard, Shelley, and Mark and Shelley's daughters.

In the next book of the series, Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl, Mark's daughter, Jessica, gets into a slew of trouble. If you loved Liam Neeson's 'Taken', you'll love this next instalment in the series.

The third book, The Wheels of Change, features Simon Cross, a womanizer man who finds himself in a heap of a mess when he mixes with a serial killer in a twist that will definitely surprise you. This final (for now) book in the series received a five-star rating from Chanticleer Book Reviews.

Tap the links below to grab the books from Amazon:

Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl

The Wheels of Change

Also by Sandy

Romance

A riches to rags cowboy. A hardened cowgirl. The gunshot that erases all doubt. Laura Warner knows nothing but horses. Her entire life has been lived on a ranch. It's her love, her dream, and aside from the love of her life, Quentin, it's the only thing that she ever thinks about. But when tragedy strikes at Kelsey Ranch, Laura is left to care for the horses and the land with the help of her siblings. Years later, Laura feels content with life, but when a gunshot blasts only days after she has to make a difficult decision, Laura learns that everything happens for a reason...and it doesn't always lead to more hardship...sometimes it leads to happiness. But can she convince herself that this is possible?

Check out No More Tears

Can a young widow ever find the perfect romance again? This second chance romance takes place in a small town in Arkansas, where Sherry and her daughter Denise encounter judgement and ridicule from some, and dedicated support from others for Denise's speech disability, all while a new face arrives in town.

Check out She Only Speaks to Butterflies

What would you do if you knew? Born in a small town in Arkansas, Stacey Bailey never dreams of falling in love with big, New York newscaster Larry Keenan. When their son Jet is born, they learn quickly that he isn't a cookie-cutter child. Suddenly, Larry begins working odd hours and there is palpable detachment in the marriage. 'The Sixth Sense' meets 'Hope Floats' meets 'A Beautiful Mind'

Check out Knowing

A selfish birthday wish. An undeserved new life. A tragic lesson. An important final prayer. Is the grass ever greener on the other side? Raelynn asks herself that....and then spends months trying to figure out how to take it back.

Check out It's Not the Flowers

A dramatic story about a young actress who, in her youth, falls in love with an actor, and later seeks him out. But when he falls in love and marries her, he doesn't marry the real her, just a sanitized version. After she's involved in a near-fatal plane crash, he learns who she really is. Once he's learned the truth, will he still love her?

Check out Would You Still Love Me?

Ripley can't seem to choose the right man. Every one of them her parents don't approve of, and rightfully so. When an incident occurs at her house, her life is changed, but not in ways one might think. It all changes when Will knocks at her door.

Check out When Will Knocks at Your Door

Victoria has lived a lie all her life, and she finds out at the worst time: when her lover proposes marriage. Read all about the lies, twists, betrayal, but mostly about the love and romance in this fan favourite. This is the author's first romance novel.

Check out Blessed and Betrayed

***5 Stars from Readers' Favorite***

The were both young. They both had grown-up problems. When it seems impossible, can love prevail? An inspiring coming-of-age romance for all to enjoy. Come and meet Sam and Becky, two young people that will re-ignite your belief that love conquers all.

Check out The Man with the Black Belt

On the surface, Kendra is seen as the apartment's gossip, but underneath she's a woman who has felt pain in a way that most haven't. Hiding behind a pair of non-prescription lenses is a girl who loves, laughs, cries, and enjoys life...all from behind her living room curtains. Ian, the heartthrob that lives in her apartment, doesn't know she exists. When they meet, there's no telling what can happen.

Check out Misunderstood

Cassandra has never known romantic love. Her son, her parents, and her friends love her...but no man ever has. Until she's torn between two.

Check out Decisions

What would you do if the love of your life suddenly didn't want the same things as you? What if you had an unfulfilled dream and only your partner could make it come true?

Check out Complicated

Suspense

Mark is Chief of Police for the LAPD. His return to work after a heart attack is eventful as his team hunts down a serial killer. Mark is used to unexpected situations at work, but when he finds himself amidst a shocking mystery at home, his hands are tied. Being pulled in all directions, Mark thinks the situation could not be worse...until he learns the next bullet has his wife's name on it.

Check out The Wife of a Lesser Man

A serial killer, a stock broker, and a police chief's daughter clash in this mysterious tale of greed and love. Michael is forced to choose between his most precious asset and the love of his life, when a serial killer tries to take what matters most to him. Police chief Mark Tame and his team hunt for clues with Michael's help, when they realize that the killer is linked to Michael.

Check out Don't Mess with Daddy's Girl

Simon Cross is a type-A personality advertising executive, who has a penchant for sleeping with married women. When one lover's husband learns of the affairs, Simon finds himself at the mercy of a madman. The advertising executive develops a very different view of life and the people around him, but not before things are radically changed in ways he never dreamed possible.

Check out The Wheels of Change

***5 Stars from Readers Favorite***

His wife is dead. His only son is a drifter. He lives alone in his quaint San Bernardino town and likes it that way, until well-known Nevada criminals discover something about Saul Jessup that makes him rather interesting.

Check out Betrayal Only Comes in Green

When your dream means changing someone else's life, what lengths would you go to to make it come true? After Elizabeth witnesses domestic violence, her father is suddenly killed in a car crash. Elizabeth is inserted into a new life: a new father and brother, and most unusual; a completely new name. Grampa Terrence is a father figure since Grant's parent's divorce. Terrence is grooming Grant to be the next mayor of Louisville and will stop at nothing to see him appointed; no matter whose life is ruined. As Grant patronizes Elizabeth's restaurant one day, all eyes are on them. Like ostriches with heads in the sand, things have been concealed: a baby, betrayal, bribery...even murder.

Check out Seven Lies, Four Truths

"An eye for an eye."

Layla Dixon never dreams of living in the small town of Holly Springs, North Carolina. Having been born and raised in New York City, the teen never fathoms the idea of ever leaving her hometown. Until one day when a horrific scene makes her beg to be anywhere but home. Her parents, both doctors, are kept in the dark when their daughter begins to display strange behavior. And when they finally learn the truth, it may be too late.

Check out To Hide in Holly Springs

Steamy Romance

Linda and Larry's New Year's parties have become drab over the years, unbeknownst to them. As Linda stands in her living room, watching her friends gather for the festivities with pasted on smiles, something occurs to her...everyone she cares about is miserable. Until Linda and Larry come up with a plan...a coupling conspiracy...but will it work? Or will fate take over and sabotage their plan?

Check out A Coupling Conspiracy

Liza is a twenty five year old girl with one thing missing in her life: a man. Up until now, she's lived her life by-the-book. When she learns she has three weeks left to live, everything changes. Suddenly she's dating, having sex, and entertaining at her roommate's lingerie parties. It seems now that she's dying, she wants to live life in the fast lane.

Check out 21 Days For Liza

Memoir/Short Reads

A memoir on living with the back deformity known as Scoliosis. Diagnosed with Scoliosis at age twenty three, there was little doctors could do to help her. She was faced with daily discomfort or pain, fear, and not knowing what future complications the medical condition would bring. The author illustrates to the reader what the last twelve years have brought her in dealing with her deformity. Against the perceived odds; she started a career, birthed two children, went through several specialists, clinics and therapists, wrote two books and fought for disability. This book was written for anyone who is challenged with daily pain, and would like some help emotionally with how to make the best out of life despite it.

Check out I'll Never Wear a Backless Dress

She thought she'd laughed a thousand times...then she had kids. This kids-say-the-darndest-things style memoir will keep you laughing for days! Fun for all ages. Do you have kids? Do you sometimes want to send them to their bedroom until puberty? And other times, do you want to hug them until they burst? What about those moments when they say something so innocent and incredibly cute or hilarious that you wish you had a pen and paper so you could remember it? Well, that's exactly what I did. My children have given my husband and I so many gifts, but the most precious has been laughter. I made a record of each funny or cute thing that they said since the moment they could speak. It's all here in this short yet unforgettable 'Kids Say The Darndest Things' style memoir.

Check out No Thanks, Mommy, I Peed Yesterday

Did you enjoy this book? You can make a big difference.

Reviews are the most powerful tools in my arsenal when it comes to getting attention for my books. Much as I'd like to, I don't have the financial muscle of a New York publisher. I can't take out full page ads in the newspaper or put posters up in the subway.

(Not yet, anyway)

But I do have something much more powerful and effective than that, and it's something that those publishers would kill to get their hands on.

A committed and loyal bunch of readers.

Honest reviews of my books help bring them to the attention of other readers.

If you've enjoyed this book I would be very grateful if you could spend just five minutes leaving a review (it can be as short as a like) on the book's detail page. You can jump right to the page by clicking below.

Smashwords

Thank you very much,

Sandy

