Murder! Too Close To Home

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

February 18, 1997

Arriving home that night I was greeted by the heavenly smell of Betty's chicken and dumplings. While Betty was a wonderful cook, she very seldom had time to make a regular meal, much less my favorite winter fare.

I quickly hung up my parka and took off my shoes, letting the aroma carry me into the kitchen. Having entered somewhat quietly, I was treated to the scene of my beautiful wife toiling over the pot on the stove.

Still in her black police uniform which she filled out better than anyone ever had, I unabashedly stared at the love of my life. A strand of her long brown hair had released itself from the pony tail she wore for work, hanging down sensually on her face as she busied herself stirring the pot. I momentarily fantasized about her cooking with something a little skimpier on until she somehow got wind of my presence.

"If you don't stop thinking like that you'll lose your appetite for the dumplings," she said with a smile, having somehow read my mind again without even looking up. I eased up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist as she leaned back into me, her body seeming to blend into mine.

"I think we should have time before the night is over for both of my appetites to be satisfied," I said with a stupid grin, burying my face into her neck and inhaling her perfume like it was a life giving force. Betty moaned, leaning her head back on my shoulder for a moment before shooing me away so she could finish the meal.

The sound of clicking on hardwood flooring announced the arrival of Lucy, our border collie/mixed breed dog, our only child. Actually, Lucy was Betty's dog through and through, having moved with her into my old house when we had gotten married.

While she was not as close to me, she more than tolerated me, letting me lavish affection on her when she felt like it. Nuzzling my hand when she got to us in the kitchen, I reached down and gave her a good rub behind the ears, her favorite spot for affection.

She continued to grace me with her presence as I wandered towards the living room, picking up the paper on the dining room table as I glanced through the day's mail.

I heard the clinking of plates and silverware as I sat down in my recliner to browse through the paper, an update on page three saying that the Sheriff was still looking into the one-car accident that had caused the death of the out of town couple. At least the cover story was still holding, although I personally was undecided if this was the right tack to follow.

Shouldn't the good people of the county know that there was a murderer about?

Reaching down, I gave Lucy a few pats on the head as if to assure her everything would be all right, like she was the one that needed it.

"Come and get it detective," I heard Betty call from the kitchen. I walked back into in the kitchen with my canine buddy in tow, observing my goddess scooping out two heaping portions of her magnificent smelling meal. Using a nod at the silverware I was to pick up, she then led me to the dining room where she gracefully deposited the plates at their assigned places. I laid out the eating tools then sat down, grabbing the fork and shoveling down a mouthful before Betty knew what was happening.

"Hey mister, we say grace first, and then we eat." We bowed our heads as she said grace, crossing herself at the end of the prayer.

Betty had been raised Catholic and was devout in the rituals taught to her years ago by the nuns. I was a believer, but had long ago had a falling out with organized religion, or should I say the organizations of religion. We had both recognized and come to terms with each other's personal beliefs, neither of us having any desire to change the other's persuasion in the matter.

She looked up, giving me a glimpse of her dazzling smile as she picked up her fork and took a bite. I was right behind her, totally enjoying the taste and texture of her specialty.

"How does this keep getting better every time that you make it?" I asked between bites. "You using some new secret spice?"

She gave a small giggle, saying that my taste was probably just getting less selective.

I held my tongue at the rebuke of my palate, being too busy enjoying my meal. She asked about my day and I told her of our meeting with Doc Elliot, and the clue coming out of another one of my dreams. Betty had always been amazed at the inner workings of my mind, especially the strange dreams and the relative consistency of their accurate outcomes.

"You should really have your own TV show," she said with a grin as I got up to get us a second helping. I would need another walk tomorrow to make up for my gluttony tonight.

We talked of the case some more, then on to other more mundane topics as I immersed myself in the fabulous food and conversation. Finally getting up to clean the table, we walked into the kitchen to do the dishes as I gave my nightly thanks to whoever had invented the dishwasher. Getting it loaded and turned on, I stood up to be greeted by the sight of Betty staring at me with a serious look on her face. Instantly concerned and being very familiar with that look, I asked what was the matter.

"You know of course that I'm assigned to the taskforce," she stated matter-of-factly. "And I just want to get the ground rules straight from the get go."

I sat down at the yard-sale kitchen table that Betty adored, knowing that when she was this serious about something there was no use making plans to do anything else until she was ready.

"I've been in this business for a long time Gabe, and even though you are a dear sweet man, you have a tendency to try to be overly protective of me...or do things for me when we work together. I will be pulling my weight on this assignment as usual, and I just want to make sure that we are on the same page on this issue."

I knew that she had hit the nail on the head with her comment; I did tend to be overprotective of her. She was a very able and accomplished cop in her own right, having reached the rank of Detective Sergeant in a very male-dominated force. I also knew that we would need all hands going full throttle to get this case concluded quickly, hopefully before anyone else got hurt.

I looked up at her sheepishly, agreeing to be as professional as possible, and to not show any favoritism while working together.

Just as long as she remembered that she was my favorite.

Her smile returned quickly as she sat down on my lap, putting her arms around my neck.

"That's all I can ask for," she said as she snuggled into me, the smell of her perfume instantly enveloping me.

"Now, about that other appetite of yours," she whispered in my ear, instantly bringing me to attention.

Putting my free arm under her knees, I stood up almost effortlessly, carrying my bride to the bedroom, the sound of her half-hearted screams of protest ringing through the house. Lucy, for her part, seeming to know that no more attention would be forthcoming this night, padded off to her bed by the fireplace.

***

Later that night, as we snuggled together in our bed she mumbled something in my ear that I couldn't quite make out. Asking her to repeat it, she sleepily said "You need to find out about the necklace."

"What necklace?" I asked, at this point thinking she was half dreaming.

"The necklace the woman was probably wearing," she said a little less groggily.

"The perp probably pulled off the woman's necklace, that's more than likely what caused the mark on her neck."

It took a moment for the information to sink into my thick skull before I slapped the palm of my hand against my forehead, finally comprehending that the doer had taken a necklace from the woman victim.

He had taken his first souvenir!