Murder After Hours

by Rayna Morgan

  He rapped his knuckles on the steering wheel. “Our teammates split up a fight between us more than once.”

  “What was the problem?”

  “From the first day he moved to town, the guy had a way of pressing my buttons. Same as you and Brooke. Maybe because he wasn’t someone I’d grown up with.”

  “Perhaps, because he was as big a hero as you on the football field.”

  “Naw, I’m not the jealous type.”

  “You are, but you won’t admit it.” She looked ahead, avoiding his eyes.

  “At any rate, jealousy isn’t the source of friction between Brooke and me.”

  Henry parked in front of her office. He turned off the engine, but made no effort to get out of the car. Instead, he rested his arm on the back of the seat and looked at her. “You two were best friends in school. I never understood what happened.”

  She didn’t reply, so he continued. “I remember when we double dated. Your mother disapproved of the guy you were going out with. When we picked you up, I’d pretend to be your boyfriend. Brooke held hands with your date until we got out of your mother’s sight.”

  Sandra smiled at the memory. “You were a jock. My mom used to look at you and tell me I was dating the handsomest boy in town.”

  “She was happy believing I was the guy her daughter was dating. Not a drop-out who smoked dope and rode a souped-up motorcycle.” He laughed and stroked her cheek. “Thankfully, you got over that loser. I’m glad we got together.”

  She flinched and turned away.

  He hunched over the wheel. “Maybe Brooke never got over us being married. She was head cheerleader and Prom Queen. Everyone expected me to hook up with her, not the valedictorian.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He was wrong thinking he was the cause of her fractured friendship with Brooke. The reason was something she hadn't shared with anyone, not even him.

  Still, part of what he said was true.

  For a long time, she could hardly believe Henry had chosen her. She chalked it up to attraction of opposites. Qualities in her which he lacked and needed.

  A wave of sadness engulfed her, pulling her under like an ocean swell. She fought through it, knowing she couldn’t let sentiment stand in her way.

  Better to tell him in a place where he couldn’t express the rage she anticipated. She would stay at the office a while to give him a chance to cool off.

  She dug her nails into her palm.

  “You’re right, Henry. We were the most unlikely couple. That could be the reason our marriage hasn’t worked. We aren’t the same people. We don’t want the same things. It’s no use pretending any longer. We should end it while we both have time to find what we’re looking for.”

  Henry’s body tensed. The anger in his eyes turned her legs to jelly.

  His words came out as a growl. “You better not be saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “We can’t go on this way. We’ll end up destroying each other.”

  He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “We’ll see a counselor. You’ve been trying for months to convince me to go. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

  The desperation in his voice made her feel nauseous.

  “We can fix things,” he promised. “Everything will be good again.”

  She opened her palm and saw the red marks. “It’s no good, Henry. I want to move on with my life.”

  His voice was cold and unforgiving like his eyes. “Is there another man?”

  She ignored his question and reached for the door.

  He grabbed her arm. “Answer my question.”

  “Take your hands off me.” Her voice was firm, but her lower lip trembled.

  He glanced toward the office where Donna was watching and loosened his grip.

  Sandra slammed the door and hurried inside.

  After several moments, he drove away.

  • • •

  Donna went to Ian’s office looking for a customer file. She found it with a note for Sandra to increase the coverage on household content.

  Ian hadn’t mentioned a request for additional coverage. She’d get a commission as the originating sales person, news her boss typically shared.

  In recent weeks, other customers had increased the amount of their policy. Sandra had agreed to talk with Ian about it.

  Donna returned to her desk and jotted herself a reminder to ask for Ian’s explanation.

  She looked up to see Henry’s truck. Keeping one eye on the couple, she busied herself straightening files.

  After several minutes, Sandra got out of the vehicle and slammed the door.

  She went straight to the bathroom when she entered the office, emerging moments later with red-rimmed eyes.

  Donna gave Sandra a moment to compose herself, watching her slide lipstick over her mouth before dropping her purse in a drawer.

  “Have a good time?” she asked, attempting to sound casual.

  “It was all right,” Sandra replied evenly. “Except we ran into Brooke Fields. She spoils any good time I’m having.”

  Donna laughed. She’d heard Sandra talk about the television celebrity in less than flattering terms before. She knew the women had been close at one time, but Sandra made no bones about her current feelings toward Brooke.

  “It was nice of Henry to take you out. I can’t remember the last time my husband stopped by the office for a surprise date.”

  “You have children to consider. That’s bound to make surprises difficult.”

  Sandra wished to have children of her own, but she and Henry were childless. Donna knew Sandra’s hopes now revolved around the man she was having an affair with.

  Donna worried whether her friend's feelings were being reciprocated. Her sister was once involved with a married man. From the outcome of that relationship, Donna doubted the sincerity of any man with the exception of her own husband.

  “I don’t suppose you told Henry you want a divorce.”

  Sandra frowned, creating wrinkles on her forehead as she stared out the window.

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Moments ago.”

  “While you were sitting in his truck? That’s cold.”

  “It was better than being home alone, especially since we’d been drinking.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “He offered to go to counseling. That’s a laugh. He’d go for one session and tell me what a fool the counselor is.”

  “If he’s willing, are you sure you can’t make it work? You two were so happy. Every marriage has rough patches. Can’t you rekindle the spark enough to stay together?”

  “It’s my fault as much as his." Pain in Sandra’s face aged her. "Being the girl the most popular guy in high school wanted to marry was a thrill, but Henry and I were never well suited.”

  Her eyes glazed as she stared at a point over Donna’s shoulder.

  “The jobs he had during school were exciting and adventurous. Deckhand on a salvage vessel, dive instructor, charter boat crewman. He had an entrepreneurial spirit I admired. We planned for the day he’d have his own business.”

  The phone console lit up. It was after hours.

  “Shall I switch the calls to answering service?” Donna asked.

  The ringing stopped.

  “Don’t bother, I’ll do it later,” Sandra replied. Her shoulders drooped when she continued, making her look tired. “When we were younger, it all seemed daring and romantic. But the thrill wore off. All it means now is that we’re strapped financially by the end of each month.”

  She smiled weakly. “What’s the expression? Henry’s a jack of all trades, master of none. He can’t settle down to a stable job, especially nine to five in a sterile office. He insists on working outdoors where he meets people.

  “I begged him once to get a steady job so I could take time to have kids.”

  The next words caught in her throat. “That was before we suspected Henry might be sterile.”

  �
�Finding out you wouldn’t have children. Is that what broke your relationship?”

  “Something changed. I don’t know if it was us, or realizing we weren’t who we pretended to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sandra took a moment before offering an explanation.

  “We were young. We didn’t know what we wanted. All our friends were getting married. It was the popular thing to do. We were opposites, but felt that could work in our favor.”

  “Even two people who are different may be suited to each other.”

  “Except I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t. The woman I thought Henry needed.”

  “You aren’t still in love with Henry?”

  “I haven’t loved him for some time,” Sandra said, sadly. “I’m not sure it was ever love. Only my idea of what love should be.”

  “Why haven’t you divorced sooner?”

  “I didn’t want to admit I made a mistake. I worried about hurting him.”

  “What changed to make you decide to leave him?”

  “I reached a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw my life stretching ahead, getting worse and worse.”

  Her face lit up for the first time. “Then, Nathan came into my life. Finding him has given me the courage to do what I should have done years ago.”

  Donna listened as Sandra gushed on about her visions of a future with her married lover.

  “I’ve seen what a wonderful father Nathan is to his young son and daughter. He talks about wanting more children.”

  Donna smiled. “Remind him all youngsters turn into teenagers.”

  Studying her friend carefully, Donna could see how talking about Nathan transformed Sandra into a younger version of herself. She hated the thought of an unhappy outcome.

  Her cell phone rang. Donna responded to the caller.

  “Talking about husbands,” she told Sandra, “I need to go home to mine. He fed the kids dinner. Now, he’s hoping I’ll relieve him of homework duties.”

  She turned off her computer and grabbed her keys. “Don’t stay too long. We’ll have time tomorrow before my meeting.”

  “Yes, there’s always tomorrow,” Sandra answered vaguely.

  • • •

  Alone in the office, Sandra couldn't concentrate on her work. Instead of being relaxing, the drink with Henry had unnerved her. Maybe it was seeing Brooke. She resolved for the umpteenth time not to let the silly woman bother her.

  She placed an incense stick in a holder and struck a match. The sweet smell of lavender washed over her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, but nothing calmed her emotional roller coaster.

  I shouldn’t have argued with Henry and sent him away. I could be eating a nice dinner right now at whatever restaurant he was planning to take me to.

  Perhaps Donna’s right. I shouldn’t consider leaving him at all.

  No, I can't think that way. Things have gone too far. I was afraid to make this break before. Now that I have a reason, I’ve got to go through with it.

  She wanted to talk to Nathan in the worst way.

  She shivered as she turned back to her work. The cool October evenings were turning chilly. When the sun dipped below the horizon, the temperature dropped ten degrees.

  She went to her car for a sweater.

  Fall is my favorite time of year, but it moves too swiftly. Halloween is just around the corner.

  Wrapping the tunic around her shoulders, she stared at the darkening sky remembering a similar night when she was a child.

  • • •

  She was five years old, dressed in a costume for trick-or-treating. Later, there would be a trip to the shopping center with her mother where she’d get candy from the merchants. First, the neighbors’ twelve-year old son would take her through the neighborhood before he went out with his friends.

  Her mother cautioned the older child before they left the house.

  “Don’t stop at the last house on the street. Mr. Wilson delights in decorating his house like a haunted castle. It could be too much for Sandra. She can tour his mystery house next year.”

  “Sure thing,” Tommy said. He grabbed the little girl’s hand and pulled her out the door. “C’mon, Sandra. Let’s get your bag filled with candy.”

  At the end of the block, they saw a line at the Wilson house. Long threads of cobwebs covered the porch. A candle burned in every window. A witch wearing a black hat and carrying a broom leaned over the walk beckoning them inside.

  “Hey, Tommy, over here,” a boy hollered, waving them to the line. “Hurry up. I’m going in.”

  Tommy looked at Sandra. She looked so cute in her ballerina tutu and lace tights. “Naw, I can’t come.”

  The other boy grinned at the girl. “You aren’t afraid, are you?”

  Sandra might have admitted her fear to her neighbor, but she wouldn't back down in front of anyone who called her a sissy.

  She shrugged. “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

  Silhouettes of black cats and jack-o'-lanterns appeared at the windows. A ghost greeted anyone who entered the gate. Plastic bones hung from the doorway of a room filled with zombies.

  Sandra clutched Tommy’s hand. She tried to look brave, but her legs were shaking.

  “I think your mom was right,” Tommy whispered. He pointed toward the exit as eager to leave as she.

  A moment before they reached the door, Frankenstein jumped in front of them.

  Sandra screamed. She ran down the hall, crashing into other kids.

  Her neighbor caught up and led her to the street where he put his arms around her. Her small body trembled. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Don’t be scared, monkey. That was Mr. Wilson, dressed in a costume.”

  “I saw the face,” she sobbed. “It had scars and blood.”

  Tommy held her close. “He was wearing a mask. Put it out of your mind. Think of how Mr. Wilson looks every day.”

  He tickled her. “In fact, the mask might be an improvement.”

  Sandra laughed, but she clutched his hand as they walked home.

  On their front porch, he leaned over her.

  “If you don’t say anything about us going to Mr. Wilson’s, I’ll give you some of my candy later. Will that be okay?”

  She stared at the ground, nodding slowly. He tipped her chin up.

  “Let me see your cute smile. That's better. Now, go show your mother all the candy you got.”

  He kissed the top of her head. She hurried inside, happy to be home.

  • • •

  Sandra tried to block out the frightening memory. The keys dropped from her hand.

  Leaning over to retrieve them, she noticed a car at the end of the lot.

  It must belong to someone who works elsewhere in the building. They probably went out and will get the car later.

  As she walked inside, a slight noise at the back of the office made her jump. She admonished herself for childish fears.

  I’ve heard becoming a parent makes someone a better person. When I have children, I’ll get over my fears to be brave for them.

  She replaced the files and locked the cabinet drawers, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get more work done.

  I’ll close up and go home.Maybe Henry brought takeout from his dinner with Ian.

  When she walked over to tap a code into the alarm, she saw a reflection in the window.

  A tremor coursed through her, gripping her heart.

  The figure wasn’t outside the building. It was inside the room, standing behind her.

  She spun around and yelled.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Chapter Two

  “Where are you going so early?” Paul asked, entering the kitchen.

  Lea answered her husband by handing him a sheet of paper and a pen.

  “Ian Alexander prepared an addendum to our insurance policy. After you sign it, I'll return it to him.”

  “Why not use electronic signatures and email the document?”


  “Ian’s office is on my way to meet Maddy for coffee. I’ll drop it off. Besides, he wants to hire me to write material for his advertising campaign.”

  As a freelance writer, Lea produced marketing, promotional and advertising materials for business owners.

  “You mean to sell insurance for the stuff people own,” Paul replied.

  Lea gathered her long, red hair on top of her head and fastened it with a clip.

  “Most people think of possessions as more than stuff, honey, but I understand your low regard for material things.”

  Paul signed the paper with a flourish before grabbing his briefcase.

  “If you need a ride, Jon, I’m leaving,” he hollered up the stairs.

  Turning back to his wife, he asked, “What’s our son doing for Halloween this year, or do I want to know?”

  “He hasn’t said anything. I’ll ask.”

  She whistled for the dogs, a white golden retriever named Spirit and Gracie, a gold-and-white Border collie.

  “Just think. In a couple more years, we’ll have to add Jon to our automobile insurance.”

  “That thought is scarier than Halloween.”

  • • •

  When she arrived at Alexander Insurance Agency, Lea lowered the window and turned to face the dogs.

  Spirit slept soundly, rolled in a ball. The Border collie sat rigidly, staring out the window.

  “I won’t be long,” she told them.

  The hours of business posted on the door indicated the office was not yet open. The other car in the lot wasn’t the sporty vehicle Ian drove.

  Peering through a window, she saw a woman’s handbag on the desk. She pushed the door and found it unlocked.

  “Hi, Sandra,” she called. “It’s Lea Austin. I'm early for my appointment”

  There was no response.

  Sandra must be in another room, she thought.

  She picked up a magazine from a stack on the table and took a seat.

  After leafing through several pages, she raised her head and listened.

  It was silence, not noise, which held her attention.

  Lea walked past the office manager’s desk to the kitchen area. There was no smell of freshly brewed coffee. The espresso machine on the counter was turned off.

  That’s odd. If Sandra went for coffee, why is her car here?