Authors: C.J. Johnson
Which brought him to the question—why would Mrs Turner lie?
The only reason that Mike could see is that she was guilty; she had killed her husband after learning of his affair with his secretary. She had used his habits to set up his accident. She knew if she admitted to finding out about an affair one week before her husband's death she would be incriminating herself. If she lied and said they had worked it out together and were moving on, it may take the suspicion off her.
Watching Mr Harrison, Mike was aghast at the look of grief and sorrow on the man's face. He was totally buying the story and Mike could almost see the thoughts as they swam around the man's head: poor Cheryl, to find out her husband was cheating then made a widow in the same week. Poor poor Cheryl.
Am I the only one who sees what is truly going on here?
Mike thought. Even Carl looked uncomfortable in the company of the woman's distress. He thought of Dave Turner's body, curled up and burnt beyond recognition.
Something inside him snapped and fell apart.
He couldn't take this anymore.
"How did you feel when you saw the email, Cheryl? The picture of your husband making love to another woman in his office, how did you feel when you saw it: hurt, angry, vengeful?"
Both Mr Harrison and Mrs Turner gaped at him as Carl shifted in his seat, nudging Mike with his elbow as he did. "Dave didn't tell you he was having an affair, you saw the email that the secretary sent to him. Why would you lie about that, unless of course, you killed him because of it."
Movement, so much sudden movement; Carl standing suddenly, tugging on Mike's arm; Mr Harrison, his face contorted in shock and anger, moving towards him with his arm extended and pointing to the door. Mrs Turner didn't move, but she stared at Mike, her expression enraged.
"He wasn't going to leave you for her," Mike said loudly as Carl pulled him towards the door. "He was rather upset at the thought of you leaving him, in fact, or at least that's what the secretary told us."
"Mike, come on," Carl urged as Mr Harrison demanded loudly that they leave immediately.
"He
was
however, having another affair, one you apparently didn't know about." Carl still ushered him towards the door but his last statement had surprised Mr Harrison into silence.
"He's been having an affair with his ex-wife for the past 6 months. He's been promising her a divorce from you in order to remarry her. He called her on your
wedding day,
Cheryl. Bet you're glad you killed him now."
The next twenty seconds were a blur to Mike: Mrs Turner sat shrieking in rage and grief with her hands clutching the hair on both sides of her head, Mr Harrison literally throwing him out of the house and Carl dragging him back to the car and all but throwing him into the passenger seat.
Mike sat panting, realising what he'd done and how much trouble he'd be in, but not having the energy to care.
"Jesus Mike," Carl spat. "What the hell did you just do back there?"
"She did it, Carl. I'm telling you she killed her husband in cold blood."
"And where exactly did you see that? Sure, the guy cheated on her, and it does provide a motive. But the guy set fire to his bed whilst intoxicated. How are you so sure?"
"I am sure, okay? I don't know, I just...feel it. I know that sounds mad, but, don't you feel it too?"
"Look Mike," Carl sighed and Mike looked at him. Avoiding his eyes, Carl continued. "I can't cover for you on this. What you just did in there, whether she's guilty or not, is unorthodox. You know you're in for a grilling if they file a complaint, which I bet Mr Harrison is doing right now as we speak. I think your personal problems have influenced your behaviour today."
"Don't use that against me, Carl," Mike said through gritted teeth. "That has nothing to do with this woman killing her husband."
"It's not about you suspecting this woman, Mike. If this case had occurred just one month ago, you would not have behaved like this. You might not have even suspected the woman."
"Oh yes I would—"
Carl slammed his hand against the wheel. "Damn it Mike! This isn't about you suspecting murder, it's your behaviour. You know damn well you just sabotaged the investigation in there. There are rules to follow, you know that. You just accused that woman of murder with no evidence, no proof and no indication that a murder has even been committed. All because of a feeling. The Mike I know wouldn't have done this, he's more professional than that. You know you're going to be put on leave, right? They'll also suggest some sort of counselling. I'll back you up on that, I'll swear that this is a result of personal circumstances obstructing your professional judgement. Take the leave and sort your head out Mike."
Mike thought of staying at home with Mandy all day, her accusing grief-filled eyes watching him all day.
"I can't be around her, Carl." Mike squeezed his eyes shut. "I just can't."
"You're gonna have too," Carl said bluntly. "I know what you're going through must be hell, but if you don't face up to the facts and start working through it, you're going to lose your marriage and your career."
Carl began to drive the car as Mike tried to find it in him at that moment to care, care about losing his job, or even to care about losing Mandy.
Chapter Eight
Cheryl shook in anger as she listened to the hushed voices of James and Nicole through their closed bedroom door. Tears of shame burned in her eyes and she blinked continuously.
Pity.
They felt so much pity for her.
While hatching her plan to kill Dave, she had wanted pity,
needed
pity in order to avoid suspicion. But only a small amount of pity and served up the right way.
This pity, that radiated not only off James and Nicole but everyone in waves was just too much to take.
The blow of finding out about Dave's affair with his ex-wife had been hard enough, but to learn that he had indeed told the bitch that he would divorce Cheryl in order to remarry her had been catastrophic.
Back when she'd found the email of Dave with his secretary, her plan had been about self-preservation, of keeping her dignity intact along with everything she had achieved from her marriage. She had thought everything had gone to plan, Dave was dead.
And yet, in spite of the fact that he was now nothing but a burnt husk of useless flesh, he'd still managed to screw her over.
Everyone knew.
Dave had told Tom of his affair with his ex-wife and Karen had made it public knowledge whilst pointing out the timing of Dave's death and his affair with his secretary. She'd also stirred things up further by pointing out that she'd known something 'wasn't quite right' with Cheryl the night Dave had died. The bitch had aroused some suspicion without actually accusing Cheryl of anything and some people were commenting on the timing of Dave's death in relation to the events transpiring in his personal life and marriage.
Only Karen's circle of friends and a few neighbours who'd always been jealous of Cheryl enjoyed this sort of gossip though. The majority of people felt sorry for her.
But their pity was not the kind of pity that Cheryl wanted.
They didn't pity her as the young beautiful widow, they pitied her as the poor bitch who's husband died in a fire set by himself as he'd overindulged in alcohol, then who'd found out about two affairs and a planned divorce. Cheryl's face burned in shame as Nicole muttered "that poor girl, she was going to lose him anyway."
Unable to listen to anymore, Cheryl turned and went back into the guest bedroom.
That bastard Jamison, he's the one that had snooped around and found everything out. In spite of the problems smothering her, Cheryl managed to smile. The bastard had been fixed, at least for now anyway.
Due to his little outburst and accusations, he'd been put on leave from the police department. They'd apologized to Cheryl and informed her that she was to call them if Jamison tried to contact her regarding the case again. James had made the complaint for her as Cheryl had played the hysterical act. She'd played it very well; James and Nicole had been so concerned that they'd called a doctor out who'd given her tablets to calm her down.
There was nothing that Jamison could do now anyway.
Dave's death had been officially ruled as an accident.
After examining his remains (Cheryl smiled, enjoying thinking of Dave as 'remains'), and finding no physical injuries or drugs that would render him incapable of an escape from the flames and an alcohol level that had been quoted as 'through the roof', his death had been ruled an accident and his body released for his burial.
Although mortified at the facts she'd learnt and the pity she was drowning in, Cheryl realised it was better this way.
Settling into the large fluffy pillows of the guest bed and pulling the sheets up to her chin, Cheryl knew she'd have messed up if she'd known everything beforehand. Her anger would have blinded her, acting like a screen in the way of her mistakes. The word divorce would have completely unhinged her and Cheryl wondered what she'd have done if Dave had suddenly announced he was leaving her for his ex-wife.
A lump formed in Cheryl's throat and she sniffed. Learning about the affair with the ex-wife had hurt, a lot.
The secretary was a hot piece of ass, someone to get his jollies with on the side. Though Cheryl had worried about Dave leaving her for the slut, she hadn't been convinced that he would leave. Her decision to kill Dave had stemmed from the worry that if he didn't fall for this woman, then what about the next woman, or the one after that.
His ex-wife was different. She was woman with whom he had a past with, a son with. She wasn't merely a piece of ass that Dave would get bored with.
Some people may argue the point by saying that Dave had been married to Cheryl whilst having an affair with his ex-wife and his secretary. They may say that Dave had been playing three women and was onto a good thing, why on earth would he leave Cheryl?
But Cheryl knew Dave. He would have gone back to his ex-wife, but she felt certain that he'd have then kept Cheryl on the side.
She had worried when forming her plan to kill him about the grief that may affect her afterwards. She worried about it affecting the rest of her life, causing her to rely on medication for depression and anxiety for the rest of her life.
She felt no guilt.
The pity was hard to handle and filled her with rage, a rage so strong that she battled the urge strangle everyone around her, but it was better this way.
She had indeed got away with murder.
Cheryl smirked in the dark room as she thought of the money coming her way.
Thanks for that, Dave,
she thought harshly.
Rest in piece, you fucking bastard.
Unable to sleep for a long time, Cheryl entertained herself with the different ways in which she could have killed Dave, much more painful ways than the relatively quick death she had given him.
She pictured having the power to kill him and bring him back to life so that she could kill him again. She smiled.
She fell asleep to the sound of Dave's agonized screams ringing in her ears.
Chapter Nine
Mike laid out his dark suit on the bed and wondered again what the hell he was doing.
What did he hope to achieve by going?
Just to see,
he thought.
Just to see her, in the flesh and playing the grieving widow.
He felt bad in a way; he was going to this man's funeral to observe the wife whom he believed had planned and carried out the man's murder, not to mourn him.
He would not only be intruding on the send off being given, but he was insulting the true mourners of the day whose life now had a large hole where Dave Turner used to be.
Okay, so I'm not mourning him
, Mike told himself.
But I'm trying to avenge him.
Bullshit
, a little voice whispered.
You're dying to prove this woman guilty so you can prove yourself right and take the heat off your personal life.
He thought of the trouble he'd be in if the department found out that he was attending the funeral.
I was the officer on the scene, Mike told himself. It wasn't unusual for the attending officers to pay their respects at the funeral. He just needed to stay out of Cheryl Turner's way.
Mike truly believed Dave Turner had been murdered by his own wife, but unfortunately, he was the only one who believed it and the death had been officially ruled an accident. Also, Carl had called to inform Mike that he'd found out some interesting facts about Mrs Turner.
It seems that Mr Turner wasn't the only one who enjoyed extra marital affairs, the wife had indulged in at least two. Even if they'd been able to prove murder, it would have been hard to pin the motive of jealousy due to an affair when she was doing it too.
Like it did every now and then, the little voice of doubt began to nag at him. Was he wrong about this woman? Was his personal life affecting his judgement?
Mike sighed, then startled as Mandy suddenly spoke. "Going to that funeral?" she asked in the same flat tone that she'd spoken to him in for the last few days. Mike nodded without looking at her, then sighed with relief when he heard her footsteps walking down the stairs.
Reassuring his conscience and convincing himself that he'd have felt like this regardless of what was happening between he and Mandy, Mike got dressed.
Twenty minutes later, he came down the stairs and hesitated. The house was quiet; no TV, no radio, nothing. He couldn't just leave without saying anything to Mandy no matter how much he wanted to. He walked slowly down the hall to the kitchen and found Mandy right where he expected to find her; sat at the table as she stared out of the window.
Staring at her, her thick glossy hair cascading down her back, her slender waist and slim legs crossed, Mike ached to go to her—but he just couldn't.
She was hurting, angry and disappointed in him right now. Put on leave from the department for a month, the chewing out he'd received for his behaviour and the results of the fertility test had all come within days of each other. He was lucky really that he hadn't been fired.