A Death in the Family

Chapter 5

It was around 5:30 PM when there was a loud knock on the Solomon's door, sounding vaguely of someone who was trying to get the attention of someone hard of hearing.

Fern Solomon, currently under blankets in her bedroom a book propped against her large abdomen yelled for her husband.

"Rich! There's someone at the door!"

"I got it!" Her husband called back. Fern could hear his footsteps receding as he headed towards the foyer.

Several minutes later her husband appeared at the doorway of the bedroom followed by two police officers. Fern frowned.

"Something wrong, officers?"

"No ma'am." The officer with thinning blond hair replied, he looked slightly chagrined. "Sorry to disturb you, but we have a few questions about your whereabouts pertaining to the death of your neighbor Lara Dooley."

"Well I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll try." Fern replied as she pushed a strand of her flyaway brown hair out of her face. This wouldn't have been her first choice for greeting company in sweatpants, pregnant, and under blankets.

The officer cleared his throat and began.

"Mrs. Solomon, how did you know that the deceased?"

"Well, she was my neighbor and sometimes her boys would help Rich with the yardwork, I didn't want him falling off the roof or something like that." Fern replied.

"What was her demeanor the last time he saw her? Did she seem worried or nervous about anything?"

"No, not that I can remember. She was always an energetic woman drawing anything she came across."

"What she drawing anything specific that morning?"

Fern frowned and then her face brightened.

"As a matter of fact, yes! I asked her what she was drawing and she showed me. She was drawing many people that she saw in the park and there was this man..."

"What did he look like?" The officer asked his pencil poised.

"Average height, he was wearing a sweater and the way Lara had drawn him he was turned away from us, facing towards the river. I remember he was wearing some sort of stocking cap."

"Like Santa?" The other officer asked with a wry grin. His partner shoved him in the shoulder shaking his head.

"No," Fern replied softly with another frown, "like those hats the kids wear nowadays... What do they call them...?"

"Beanies." Her husband supplied.

"Oh, yes." Fern replied. "That's it."

"One last question, Mrs. Solomon. Did Lara Dooley ever draw you?"

"No, not specifically," Fern answered, "she may have later, I'm not sure. It was like she was constantly taking notes on people, regardless of whether she knew them or not."

"Is it possible for you to give a description of the man you saw Lara Dooley drawing to a sketch artist?" The first officer asked, the one that had been doing most of the talking.

"Officer," her husband cut in, "my wife is on strict bed rest and is unable to leave the house at this time-no exceptions. Doctor's orders."

"I see. Well we'll see about sending a sketch artist your way if possible. This is very important you understand."

Afterwards Rich ushered the officers out of the house, thanked them on the stoop and shut the door before returning to his wife's bedroom. He wasn't keen on getting involved in some sort of crime investigation it wouldn't be good for Fern's health and that the babies. You couldn't exactly choose life's circumstances, however. He reflected.

The following day, Detective Cumberbatch and Sgt. Douglas compared notes from the day before. While the Dooley case wasn't the only thing crossing their desk at the moment it was certainly at the top of list.

As Detective Cumberbatch came back in two cups of coffee his partner could be heard humming "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" under his breath as he slipped through his notes.

"Bit late for Christmas carols," Cumberbatch commented as he set down the steaming cups of coffee, "Christmas was almost 4 months ago."

" Well I'm making a list and checking it twice." Sgt. Douglas mumbled gruffly as he grabbed his cup of coffee. "I'm going to need this today!"

Detective Cumberbatch sat down across from his partner.

"So what you got?"

"Something, but I don't know what, and if there is a suspect involved I have no idea where he is."

"I can get the sketch artist out today sir." Cumberbatch offered.

"Right." Douglas grumbled. "Get Rosie from East Peoria, she's the best we got."

"Yes sir." Should we be thinking of a photo lineup for Mrs. Solomon?"

"Likely, but let's find the guy first. Generate some public interest maybe that will scare him out of the woodwork."

Detective Cumberbatch hurried off: the sketch artist was a college grad from East Peoria that had moved to southern Illinois. She did good work and she did it well, it also didn't hurt she could pretty much read people's minds. They had solved a few cases thanks to her.

He sat down in his desk chair which squeaked in protest and after shuffling through his contacts for several minutes found the number of Rosie Cortez.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Rosie, Detective Cumberbatch here, got an assignment for you... And it's a doozy."