The Black Widow (7 page)

Carl sighed. "Never. That's why I'm surprised. It doesn't look like foul play to me."

"She looked at me, Carl."

Carl raised his eyebrows. "Looked at you? How?"

Mike lowered his head. "Look, I know this sounds...I don't know, it doesn't sound good. But just keep an open mind at the moment."

Carl nodded. "Same goes for you."

Mike looked around. "Right, let's go talk to the couple that approached us before."

Both men started walking towards the house with the red door.

Chapter Five

"Thank you, Mrs..."

"Oh please, call me Karen."

Mike took the offered mug of coffee, had a sip and sighed. Karen handed a mug to Carl , who thanked her then set it down on the pine coffee table in front of them.

As Karen settled on the sofa across from them, her husband Tom put his arm around her shook his head at Mike. "I just can't believe it. We only saw him a couple of hours ago. I can't believe he's dead.

"It's a terrible tragedy," Mike agreed. "I'm sorry to have to do this now but the sooner we get all the facts together, the better."

"We'll help in any way we can," Tom told them and Karen nodded.

"We understand there was a party at Dave and Cheryl's residence tonight."

"That's right. We moved here about a month ago and Dave and I got chatting. He likes...liked to play golf and I was looking for a new club to join. He recommended his and we've gone together every Sunday since. He invited Karen and I to his house this evening kind of at the last moment. He didn't give a reason for the party, just said they were having a few people over. He's a real sociable bloke."

"In your opinion, would you say that Dave consumed a lot of alcohol this evening?"

Karen huffed. "I'd say to put it that way would be an understatement."

"So Dave did drink rather a lot tonight?"

"Enough to put down a bull," Karen assured him.

"I see." Mike didn't like it. He knew the wife was behind this, that she had set the fire.

He knew it.

But from the way it was going they were going to have a hell of time proving it. This couple were the second and third detached witnesses' that had confirmed Dave Turner's alcohol intake for the evening.

The poor bloke had made his accidental murder too easy.

"How was Dave and Cheryl's marriage in your opinion?" Mike asked. Carl shifted in his seat beside him and cleared his throat.

Mike ignored him.

Tom shifted, looking uncomfortable and Karen glanced sideways at him, the expression on her face exciting Mike.

Tell them
, it seemed to say.

Avoiding his wife's eyes, Tom said "they seemed okay I guess. They announced they're trying...were going to start trying for a baby."

Mike felt the sentence hit him like a punch in the stomach. He lowered his head and battled with his emotions, forcing them back down somewhere deep inside to be dealt with another time. Breaking the silence, Carl asked quietly "did he have any children?"

"A son from a previous marriage." Tom lowered his head. "He's 14 years old."

Mike's stomach clenched. The poor kid. He raised his head. "So in your opinion, everything seemed fine between Mr and Mrs Turner?

Karen stared at Tom and once again, he avoided her eyes. "We've only known them a month, but they seemed fine to me. Just a normal couple"

Turning towards Mike, Karen said "my opinion differs somewhat to my husband's."

Mike opened his mouth, preparing to ask her to elaborate when Tom said in a warning tone "Karen, just because we don't like someone, we don't make accusations."

"I'm not accusing anyone," Karen answered, much calmer than most wives would have responded had their husbands' spoken to them in a manner better suited for young naughty children. "But even
you
have to admit that this is suspicious. Cheryl's behaviour this evening, that we both agreed was...I don't know—staged. How many times did she say that she would be sleeping on the sofa? How many, Tom? The next thing we know, Dave is dead, burnt to death in his bed that
she
made sure everyone knew she wouldn't be in. Add all that to what Dave told you last week and—well it's scary, is what it is."

Tom glanced at both Mike and Carl, his expression suggesting he knew his wife had a valid point but he strongly preferred to avoid discussing it.

"Look," Karen continued, "I haven't liked Cheryl since the first time I laid eyes on her. All this," she waved her arm at the room around her, "Tom and I have worked hard for. Cheryl hasn't worked a day in her life. She married a wealthy business man then sat around making herself look pretty while he earned the money for her to spend. What I'm going to tell you has nothing to do with my personal feelings towards the woman." She took a deep breath and seemed to be mentally preparing her statement. She raised her eyebrows. "Do you like reality TV shows?"

Mike frowned, thrown by the question. Even Carl cocked his head and frowned. Mike shrugged. "My wife likes them."

"You know how you feel when someone is singing on one of those shows, and they are just so terrible you cringe and blush for them. But the most cringe worthy is when they think they're good. They put their heart and soul into it and you're torn between feeling really sorry for them and wanting to shake them really hard?" Karen raised her eyebrows again and Mike nodded to show her he understood her point. "Well, that's how I felt towards Cheryl tonight, but not because she was singing, but acting."

"Acting? Like how do you mean?" Mike was beginning to wonder if jealousy was maybe an issue here. Cheryl Turner was young and beautiful. Karen herself was extremely attractive, but she was older than Cheryl and Mike wondered if that's where her resentment was coming from.

"Oh, I don't know how to describe it. She just, I don't know, the whole night she seemed to be playing this role, and not very well. When she wasn't playing up to the cameras, she looked nervous, edgy. A couple of times, she looked furious. I don't know, I just felt like I was watching a play with the worst acting. I felt like I was being manipulated."

"How did Dave appear to you?" Mike asked and Karen shrugged. "Dave seemed normal to me, from what I know of him from a month that is. Interested in booze—and Ella—but no, Dave wasn't acting like Cheryl."

"Ella?"

"Ella Reed," Tom said. "Another neighbour. Both she and her husband were there tonight too."

"Red hair?" Mike asked, thinking of the gorgeous hysterical woman from the Harrison's house.

"That's her," Karen said. "Gorgeous looking woman. Dave could hardly keep his eyes off her. She's really nice, too."

Perhaps jealousy wasn't and issue here. A woman secure enough in herself to admit another woman was gorgeous wasn't usually the type to hate a woman just for their looks. Besides, if Karen was going to be jealous of a woman based on her looks alone, she'd have chosen Ella over Cheryl Turner. As attractive as Cheryl was, she wasn't a patch on Ella Reed.

"So you felt that Cheryl was acting tonight? Like putting on a show for all you guests'?"

"Yeah definitely. All wasn't well with her. A few times, I caught her glaring at Ella like she was controlling the urge to rip the woman's face off, but yet she kept encouraging Ella to make more cocktails."

"Special recipe cocktails?" Mike asked, remembering the exact words spoken by Ella's husband.

"Yes." Karen looked at him. "How did you know about them?"

"Ella was at the Harrison's house tonight. We saw her before Cheryl. She was very distraught, saying we should arrest her. She thinks it's her fault."

"What a shame. The poor woman. Though, it was Cheryl who encouraged her to make them. You have to wonder if she
wanted
Dave that drunk."

"Karen," Tom said in a warning tone.

Karen's face suddenly turned pale. "I'll never forget seeing that fire burning out of the window. Then James came out crying and...it was obvious then that Dave hadn't made it out."

Karen shuddered and Tom held her close. "We heard all the screaming and went to see what was going on," Tom told Mike and Carl. "Cheryl was hysterical; screaming Dave's name. Nicole was screaming for James too. I grabbed Cheryl, she was trying to run inside the house."

"I couldn't believe it," Karen murmured. "I went to Cheryl to console her, and that's when I decided that I was sure she had something to do with it."

"How do you mean?" Mike asked.

Karen looked at him. "Her husband was burning in that room, and she was screaming and crying. Tom was holding her back to stop her running into the house. I went to her...and she looked at me. Her eyes looked...I don't know. Too aware of what was going on." Karen shrugged. "I really don't know how to describe it. I'm positive she set that fire."

"Karen," Tom said again in the same annoying tone. Mike marvelled at Karen's patience in continuously being spoken to that way.

"She kept making a point to make sure everyone knew she would not be in that bed tonight, she even rushed upstairs to get the blankets as we were all leaving. Why announce it so many times? It's like she
needed
everyone to know that she would not be anywhere near that bed tonight. Then, there's a fire and Dave dies. Add to that what Dave told you last week and—"

"Karen! He told me that in private—"

"Well, I don't think he's going to mind now, do you?"

Tom sighed and shook his head. Excited by the prospect of what sounded like a motive, Mike leaned forward. “If you know anything, Tom, anything that help us get to the bottom of this, you owe it to Dave to tell us."

Tom sighed again. He looked at Mike, his face grim. "Dave was planning to leave Cheryl. He's been having an affair for the past 6 months."

Mike tried to disguise his excitement with professional interest. "Do you know who he was having an affair with?"

Tom nodded. "Her name is Sarah Turner, she's Dave's ex-wife and the mother of his son."

Chapter Six

Cheryl stood in the shadows, the blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. In spite of the hustle and bustle that was going on in the street, she didn't take her eyes off the red door. She gritted her teeth in temper, gritted them so hard that her temples began to ache.

She remembered the looks Karen had been giving her all night and wondered what the bitch was telling the cops.

Beneath her anger, fear stirred.

Jamison knew. He knew she had killed Dave.

Cheryl took a trembling breath. She tried to think of everything she'd done, any evidence that she may have overlooked. She was sure that nothing could link her to Dave's accident, but who knows what they may find. Earlier, when she'd taken into account that Dave's affair with his secretary would come to light, she hadn't been concerned. It was unavoidable and she could simply play dumb.

But now, she was worried.

What if Dave had told his secretary that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her? What if there were love notes that existed, sent between the two with talk of love after his divorce and a happily-ever-after.

Jamison knew that she had killed Dave, how he was onto her in the first place, Cheryl didn't know. But he knew beyond a doubt that she had murdered Dave. If Karen was telling him stories too, then combine it with any details that may exist of a love affair between Dave and his secretary, they may be able to build some sort of case against her.

What was it called, circumstantial evidence?

The thought of everyone knowing what she'd done filled Cheryl with a numbing dread and brought tears to her eyes.

I'll kill myself before I'll go to prison.

A panic attack gripped her and she leaned against a bookcase for support, her heart thundering in her chest as her breath came out in ragged gasps. Trying to control the awful thoughts that assaulted her, Cheryl spent the next couple of minutes battling with her demons, assuring herself that she would not be caught and challenging the terrifying doubts and images of prison.

Just as she was regaining control, the red door opened and both coppers stepped out. Tom and Karen appeared in the doorway and the four spoke briefly before the two detectives walked away.

Cheryl kept her eyes on the two men, especially Jamison as she continued to pant, the panic attack still trying to send her into a full-blown meltdown.

Jamison's body language and demeanour concerned her. The way he gestured and the excited, agitated manner of his speech as his partner nodded in agreement made Cheryl's hear race once more.

Okay, so Karen didn't like her. Surely that couldn't be the reason for Jamison's excitement.

He acted like a hound that just picked up a scent.

Cheryl gritted her teeth again. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of a murder investigation, her face all over the news as she was dubbed a black widow.

The panic attack lingered on, threatening to overwhelm her once again if she continued with such thoughts. She watched both men as they walked away, back towards her house.

I have to be real clever now. No slipping up, no mistakes. The part of the grieving widow has to be played with perfection.

Almost convinced she would get away with murder, Cheryl turned away from the window and blended in with the shadows of the room.

Chapter Seven

Mike came awake and squinted. The sunlight that streamed through the window was so bright he felt like his eyeballs would explode. He groaned and rolled over, his arm automatically reaching out to drape over Mandy's warm body. His arm flopped down onto the sheets and he raised his head.

Mandy wasn't beside him.

Raising his head, he heard the hiss of the shower and groaned again. The clock beside him displayed 8.02 am as the time, which meant he'd had three hours of sleep.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep again now even if he could, he threw back the covers and sat up. As he stood, the hiss of the shower stopped. Making his way to the bathroom, he encountered Mandy as she exited the bathroom.