Authors: C.J. Johnson
Glaring sideways at Sarah, who had the attention of everyone in the room, Cheryl narrowed her eyes as no-one paid any attention to her as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the peculator.
As usual, Sarah looked gorgeous.
How does she do that?
Cheryl thought. Sarah's hair was worn her usual way; every blond hair piled on top of her head in an un-done bun. It reminded Cheryl of bird's nest. Add the fact that Sarah wore very little make-up on her face, she should look rather plain.
But she didn't.
I could never look that good so effortlessly,
Cheryl thought, her resentment of Sarah reaching a peak.
“It truly is stunning,” Rachel, a 17 year old hairdressing apprentice exclaimed. “Which one gave you this?”
“Scott,” Sarah replied shamelessly and the women continued to stare at the engagement ring on Sarah's extended hand. Curiosity got the better of Cheryl and she leaned in for a closer look.
The ring was stunning.
“You like?” Sarah asked her, a challenge in her dark brown eyes.
“And you say Scott gave you this?” Cheryl said nastily. “So what does Paul think of it then?”
All the women turned to look at Cheryl, their excited chatter turning into stunned silence. The anger that flashed in Sarah's eyes was quickly replaced by sly triumph. “Don't feel jealous, Cheryl. I know it can't be easy for you. Your husband's hardly ever around, and, when he is, he's hardly eye candy. It must be difficult for you to see me with two young, gorgeous men who are just crazy about me.”
“Slut,” Cheryl hissed, aware of the other women's eyes darting between herself and Sarah, as if watching a tennis match.
Sarah smiled meanly. “Hi kettle, this is Cheryl, and you're black. You spread them on a regular basis, and for different men all the time. I may have two men on the go, Cheryl, but I'm involved with each of them. You're nothing but an easy fuck to all your men. Tell me Cheryl, do you even remember all their names?”
“You need to be careful, bitch,” Cheryl hissed, her face red with embarrassment at Sarah's words.
“No. You should have been careful, Cheryl. Hasn't your husband busted you for sleeping with his friend's son? And at a party, too. God, I wish I'd been there to see that—I'd have bought a ticket to see that.”
You're losing control
, a voice within Cheryl whispered.
Back off.
“I'm warning you,” Cheryl said carefully, “you have no idea what I'm capable of.”
“What?” Sarah asked haughtily. “You do women too?”
Cheryl roared and lunged forward, her arms reaching out to grab Sarah by the throat. She saw the fear in Sarah's eyes and felt elated, though a part of her mind was in panic.
What the hell am I doing? Jesus.
She and Sarah had hated each other since Cheryl had started working at the salon, but it had never turned physical.
Cheryl struggled as Sallie grabbed her and held her back, demanding she calm down, just calm down. Beneath her rage, Cheryl knew she couldn't risk losing her job, so she backed away from Sarah, who was huddled in the corner of the staff room, her eyes wide with shock.
I'm on the edge.
“In my office, Cheryl. Now.” Sallie turned and marched from the staff room and Cheryl followed her, breathing hard and keeping her head down.
A few hushed gasps and a muttered “psycho bitch” from Sarah reached her ears before she slammed the door behind her.
Psycho bitch is right
, thought Cheryl.
Keep playing with fire and you'll see just how psycho I can be.
***
Cheryl kept her head down for the rest of the day, avoiding Sarah when possible. Sallie had made it clear that should Cheryl ever behave that way to any member of staff again, she would be out.
Sarah hadn't been pulled in to the office though and Cheryl felt like a child that had took all the punishment for something that wasn't all her fault. She concentrated on ignoring the looks and whispers from the other girls in the salon, non of which liked her anyway, and knew the moment she left, she would be the topic of conversation.
Fuck them all.
Sarah walked into to view and Cheryl lowered her head, concentrating on the client file in front of her. She wasn't afraid of Sarah, she was afraid of what she might
do
to Sarah.
Cheryl had immediately disliked Sarah on sight, but her hatred for the girl had grown since she'd started flaunting her love life.
Even then, Cheryl had managed to keep her feelings to herself. But, on her birthday last year, Harold had surprised her by coming home early. He'd had a bouquet of flowers delivered to the salon, which Cheryl had proudly shown off.
All the women knew she was married and well-off, something that Sarah had hated about her, and Cheryl enjoyed basking in the envy of all the girls' as they oohhed and aaahhhed over the flowers.
Then, Harold had walked into the salon.
No-one had seen him before, something that Cheryl had made sure of before that day, and she'd always given the impression that Harold was very handsome and young-looking. She'd made out that he was so good-looking, his wealth was merely a perk.
But since that day that he'd surprised her by entering the salon, the envy had turned to amusement and Sarah had been overjoyed.
Cheryl had vowed since that day that she would get even with Sarah for the digs about her husband, but truth be told, the comments pissed her off, but they didn't hurt her in any way. She shared the same opinion about Harold, so for that reason the snide comments and digs usually went over her head.
Her rage today came from the knowledge that should Harold leave her, she would never live down the fact that her older ugly husband had left her.
Cheryl kept her head down and stayed busy until the end of her shift. She didn't work the same hours the hairdressers did; once her clients list was complete, she could leave. She left without saying goodbye, not that anyone would care anyway.
She headed straight for the supermarket where she bought some flowers and chocolates for her mother's birthday tomorrow before driving home.
No notes awaited her when she reached her front door, but there was a message on the answering machine. Whoever had been sending Cheryl the letters had never called the home phone and she prayed that it was Harold, calling to tell her loved her and would forgive her.
Disappointment gnawed when she heard her mother's voice, disappointment which quickly turned to dread.
Her sister, Tess, had booked a table tonight at their mother's favourite restaurant for her birthday. Cheryl wasn't so much invited as required to attend.
Cheryl's stomach turned over. She hadn't seen her father or Tess since her affair had been made public. She had spoken with her mother numerous times, but her mother was a meek, anxious woman who never liked to talk about anything serious. Her father, on the other hand, would be furious. He wouldn't be able to contain herself, be it her mother's birthday meal or not.
Cheryl pictured him giving her 'the speech', ranting on about the shame she had brought on him and yada, yada, yada.
A heavy weariness settled over Cheryl as she realised she would have to go; the consequences would be far worse if she didn't attend the birthday meal.
Cheryl mentally prepared herself for the night ahead as she went upstairs to get ready.
Chapter Twenty One
Mike pulled up outside the house and shook his head.
What the hell am I doing here?
He glanced to his left as he stepped out of his car and stared. The house had hardly changed since that night seven years ago.
Various toys were scattered over the front garden and a small pink trike was parked by the front door. Mike headed for James and Nicole Harrison's front door, knowing they still lived here but unsure of what he going to say to them, and whether they'd listen to him.
His gut had gnawed at him to come and visit the couple, but for what reason he didn't know. It was, after all, their complaint that had him suspended from the force. He'd need to be very careful and decided he would pay a visit and play the concerned role. Cheryl had a stalker, he would say. He wanted to make sure that she remained safe.
They won't believe that, he told himself. But he continued to the front door and knocked, then hesitated.
Cheryl had been close to the couple seven years ago. What if she was in there right now drinking coffee and telling them all about her stalker?
Then I'll leave. Simple as that.
It wouldn't be so simple if the Harrison's put in another complaint about him, so whatever happened in there, he'd have to play it cool.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he startled as the front door was suddenly pulled open and Nicole Harrison stared out at him.
Seven years ago he may have described her as plump, but now she was big. She still wore her hair short but it no longer stood out from her head in tight curls and it was almost completely grey.
Recognition, then fear registered on her round face. “What is it?”
“I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs Harrison,” Mike told her as gently as possible. “I just came to discuss Cheryl Tu... Underwood with you and her situation.”
Nicole stared at him, breathing heavily. She looked afraid...and guilty.
“I just want to make sure she's safe,” he added lamely.
Nicole shook her head. “I'm sorry, you're a homicide detective. When I opened the door I thought... never mind. Come on in.”
Mike hesitated, then entered her home. In all the scenarios that had gone through his mind, a polite invite inside the Harrison's home had not been one of them.
Nicole led him to the living room, the very room where he first met Cheryl night her husband died. James looked up from his paper, his eyes widening when he saw Mike.
“Nothing is wrong,” Nicole told him. “He's come about Cheryl.”
Mike raised his eyebrows in wonder when James visibly paled. He folded his newspaper and placed it on the arm of his chair. He watched Mike as he sat down, but was unable to maintain eye contact. Mike noticed the look that passed between James and Nicole.
While Nicole had changed quite a bit, James had hardly changed, apart from his hair. He was almost bald on top and what little hair clung to the sides of his head was white.
“First of all, I'd like to apologize for my behaviour the last time I was in your home,” Mike began. Both the Harrison's lowered their eyes.
Guilt. Guilt was etched over each of their faces and both lowered their heads. Mike frowned, but continued. “I'm afraid I was having some personal problems at the time. No excuse, I understand, but I'm afraid I allowed it to affect my judgement.”
Neither one of them would look at him.
“Anyway, I'm sorry. I only came really to check on Cheryl. She had quite a turn yesterday when I knocked on her door. It is a serious matter though, I wanted to know if she's okay.”
“Dear God,” Nicole muttered, tears in her eyes as she looked imploringly at Mike. “It isn't another husband, is it? Please tell me it isn't.”
Mike frowned as she squeezed her eyes shut and he looked at James. He found James staring at him so intently that he sat back in his chair a little. “No, Mrs Harrison. Cheryl has been receiving anonymous letters from an unknown that she's rather concerned about.”
Nicole sighed, visibly relieved and James let out a long breath as he sagged in his chair. “Okay,” Mike said, no longer able to stay quiet. “What is going on here?”
He looked from Nicole to James but both refused to look at him. He sucked in his breath. “You know Cheryl is guilty, don't you? You both know she did it? She confessed.”
A tear slid down Nicole's cheek. “The blood would be on our hands,” she murmured. “When she does it again, that man's blood will be on our hands.” James covered his face as his wife muttered the words and Mike sat all the way back into the sofa, completely stunned.
He'd always known that Cheryl had killed her husband, but now someone else knew, knew because she had
confessed.
“Tell me,” Mike said softly.
“She said we couldn't go to the police,” Nicole said quietly. “She said cause of death had been pronounced accidental and no-one would believe us. She said if we tried to go to the police, she'd claim to be having an affair with James. She said she'd say I'm a bitter wife who talked my husband into getting his mistress in trouble. She also said she'd point out that it would look especially bad since James was the one who spotted the fire and raised the alarm.” Nicole was babbling as the words rushed from her.
She raised her tear-filled eyes to Mike. “She said it would look like James murdered Dave so he could have Cheryl. She would have gone through with it, I'm certain of that. Dave's death
was
ruled an accident; how could we go marching into the police station 6 months later claiming it was a murder? We had no proof of her confession and there was no proof of foul play.” Nicole once again lowered her head. “There was only you who knew what she'd done, but it was our complaint that had you dismissed from duty. We didn't have anywhere to turn.”
Mike nodded, understanding their position and completely astonished. “You looked after her,” he said. “She stayed in this house with you. How did she end up confessing to murder and threatening to set you up?”
“Because I pushed her too far,” Nicole sighed. “I felt so sorry for her. Dave had been so unfaithful to her, and not just the affair with his secretary, but his relationship with his ex-wife that hadn't really stopped. He'd been promising her and his son a divorce from Cheryl and a happily-ever-after ending whilst sleeping with his secretary and begging Cheryl to give him a child. I thought it was so awful and cruel for Cheryl to have to go through something like that; and so young too. My pity drove her into a frenzy one night. She stormed out and came back hours later near midnight, very drunk and still very angry. I'd been waiting for her to come back, I wanted to apologise, but she began shouting and swearing at me. James woke up and came downstairs. He started to tell her that she had no right to be speaking to me like that, not after everything we'd done for her." Nicole looked at Mike. "Cheryl suddenly smiled; a real nasty smile and said she'd been having sex with a man she just met at a pub, and what did we think of that? I was worried about her, but James was angry. She went real quiet, then smiled again. She told us to be careful; she'd hate for us to have an accident like Dave did."