Her Lawman

by Hildie McQueen

  * * *

  It was almost six when her doorbell rang, Eliza didn't think twice before opening the door. She hoped it was Mark, who decided to stop by.

  Jay seemed surprised when she opened the door, his eyes wide. But he recovered fast enough to place his foot in the way to keep the door from closing. "Are you dating Deputy Hunter?"

  She gave up trying to close the door, opened it wider and stepped out into the landing. "What do you want, Jay? Please go away. I don't want to fight with you anymore."

  He looked past her to the interior. "I heard you two were cozy in the cupcake shop."

  "What I do and who I see is none of your damn business. Leave me alone." Eliza began to tremble with anger. "I'm tired of it. Go!" She pointed toward the stairs.

  As usual, Jay ignored her and scratched his head looking to the interior of her apartment. "I saw the lights on, wondered what you were doing."

  "We're not that kind of friends. You've ruined any chances of us having a friendship." Eliza glared at the annoying man.

  "I'm just being nice, here. No need to get mad." Jay held his hands palms up and assumed an innocent expression. "'Sides I came to apologize for what happened the other night. I've never forced myself on a woman before and I'm not going to blame it on being drunk, 'cause I wasn't really that drunk. I have no excuse."

  "I accept your apology. But this doesn't mean we're friends. I won't put up with you continuing this. Please, go home."

  They both heard the sound of footsteps and Jay turned just as a hand grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. Mark held the smaller man with one hand on the scruff of his shirt and the other flat on his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

  Jay was smart enough not to struggle or hit Mark, he settled for glaring. "I came to apologize." He looked to Eliza. "Tell him that's what I just did."

  "He did." Eliza said narrowing her eyes. "And I asked him to leave. Which he ignored."

  Mark held back. The muscles on his back visibly shook. "Then I strongly suggest you do just that," he gritted out, releasing Jay.

  Jay waited until he was down the stairs to talk. "Just cause you're a deputy doesn't give you the right to interfere in people's business. This was a private conversation."

  "I've seen how your ‘private’ conversations with Eliza go," Mark replied, his face like stone.

  Eliza wasn't sure what to do once Jay left. Admittedly, she was shaken, hated to realize she feared Jay would never stop in his quest to bug the daylights out of her.

  It felt perfect when Mark neared and pulled her against his hard chest. She relaxed into him and let out a breath. "I wish he'd stop."

  "Don't worry about it. Let me handle it." He talked in a soothing voice. "How about we watch TV?" He lifted her face. "Sharknado is on."

  Feeling awkward, she pushed away from him. "I refuse to watch that movie." Eliza walked to the apartment and he followed.

  It turned out to be a relaxing evening. They sat on the couch with their feet up on the ottoman and microwave popcorn between them. Mark brought a two-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper, which they drank out of plastic tumblers. It was hard not to imagine how nice it would be if this turned into a relationship.

  When the stupid movie ended, they stayed sitting on the couch.

  "That was fun." Eliza admitted. Their eyes met and she lowered her gaze to his mouth. He read her signals clearly because his mouth covered hers. He tasted of popcorn and promise and she savored every bit of it. The man was a great kisser, his lips suckling hers and moving from one end of her lips to the other. He turned his head to get a better angle and she grabbed his shirt to try to keep from sliding off the couch into a puddle of goo.

  She fell back on the cushions and Mark landed over her. Of its own volition her leg wrapped around his thigh. His hardness flush against her body was like heaven and Eliza didn't want the moment to ever end.

  Mark kissed a trail to her throat and she gasped when his hand cupped her breast.

  "Oh." She pushed at his chest. "Mark."

  "Umm?" He'd made it to the top of her breast his tongue hot on her skin. She had to stop him before she dragged him to bed.

  "Get off me."

  He reacted so fast that he tumbled off the couch and landed on all fours.

  It was hard to hold it back a giggle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to fall."

  He blinked up at her, his chest heaving. "Yeah--yeah." He sounded out of breath. "It's okay."

  It was comical to watch Mark crawl up and practically fall next to her on the couch. "I didn't mean to overstep. I'm sorry." The apologetic look on his face made her smile and she leaned forward and kissed his jaw.

  "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. That's the problem." Eliza bit her lip. "I want to be with you. I really do. But can we wait a bit?"

  He raked his hand through his hair, his brow creased. "Of course." Then his lips curved. "You want to be with me, huh? Awesome."

  Eliza hit him on the shoulder. "Shush up."

  An hour later, kissing her all the way to the door, he finally left. All the stress from seeing Jay was replaced with giddy excitement and undeniably sexual frustration.

  Hours later, tapping sounded, as if someone hammered on the door. Eliza groaned and sat up in bed. The sun was up, but by the dimness outside the window, it was still very early. Once again the noise followed by a woman's voice. “Eliza? Are you all right?”

  It sounded like the woman was in her house. She grabbed a discarded pair of sweatpants and jerked them on along with a sweater and rushed to the front room. Her door was wide open and her elderly neighbor stood inside, her cane held up with both hands. "Oh, thank goodness it's you. I was ready to knock some intruder to Kingdom Come," Old Mrs. Barker told her, demonstrating by swinging her cane like a sword.

  Eliza looked around the room and didn't notice anything out of place. "Was the door open?"

  Mrs. Barker nodded. "Yes, I was about to leave for my morning walk and thought it was strange that your door was wide open so early and you were nowhere to be seen. Should we call Deputy Hunter?"

  Then she saw the note. A white piece of paper stuck to the cabinet above the sink. She neared it and her eyes widened. "Yes, I think we should call him."

  Chapter 7

  Mark stopped the cruiser in front of Mason's home. He was running out of ideas. Thankfully Scott was with him, to keep her flirting at bay. Just maybe their joint presence would get Shelly to open up without trying the old flirting routine.

  His cell phone vibrated and he saw it was a call from Eliza. He hit the ignore button, now wishing he wasn't in the car with Scott so he could talk freely. He'd thought about her until falling asleep.

  "What are you thinking?" Scott studied the house with a frown, not seeing his grin. "Think she did it?"

  "I don't know," Mark replied honestly. "She could have slipped him the Benadryl, but she wasn't the one to slit his throat. Unless she got a ride there and back, I don't see how that was possible."

  "Maybe she paid someone to do it."

  The radio bleeped and both listened but nothing of interest came through. "It just doesn't seem like she's the kind to plan something like this. I can see someone instructing her to give him the drugs. I don't know. But I say we try to shake her up a bit."

  Shelly took her time opening the door. Through narrowed eyes she regarded them. "What now? Did you come to tell me I can get Eddie?"

  Scott took the lead after noticing Mark took a step back. "No, ma'am, we have a few more questions for you."

  "Come in." Her request took them by surprise, but they walked in at her moving away from the door. Shelly plopped down on a couch that had seen better days. She lit a cigarette and didn't invite them to sit.

  Scott was smart enough to not play her game. He sat on a chair next to the couch looking out of place amongst what looked to be dirty laundry. "Ma'am, can you tell us if Eddie took medication the morning he died?"

  It was brief, but surprise
registered on her face. "Not that I know of. I was still in bed when he left."

  "So you don't know what time he left exactly then?"

  "He always left about the same time. Seven-thirty." Her hand shook just a bit when she took a puff of nicotine. "Was he tested for drugs? He smoked a joint every once in a while, but not on work nights."

  Mark couldn't keep quiet. "Eddie didn't defend himself. It was as if he were asleep when it happened."

  "Well, if he was cut to death, he wouldn't have moved anyway would he?" she snapped. "I don't know what this has to do with me. I just want you to stop dragging your feet so I can give my husband a proper burial. It's supposed to be this Saturday, you know?"

  She looked around and picked up an empty soda can. She flicked the ashes towards the top. Most of them missed. "I just want this to be over."

  "Do you keep any Benadryl in the house, Mrs. Mason?" Scott asked, pad and pen in hand.

  Shelly paled. Her eyes darted toward the hallway. "Uh...yeah, I think so."

  "Is it possible Eddie took some that morning for a headache or something?" Mark asked and took a step blocking the hallway. "Maybe he took too many by mistake."

  "You know, I bet he did," Shelly told them her face brightening. "He was complaining of a headache that morning."

  "So you did speak to him that morning?" Scott clarified.

  Color began to rise to her sunken cheeks. "Well, I think so. I mean I was in bed and all, but I might remember him saying he had a headache. Drank too much the night before."

  Mark cocked his head to the side. "So he didn't smoke marijuana on work nights, but he did drink too much?"

  "Hell, I don't know." Shelly got to her feet and began to pace. "Y'all are getting me all confused."

  "It might be easier if you come with us to the station and we can discuss the events of that morning in a calmer manner."

  She threw her hand up. "Oh no. I ain't about to go nowhere."

  "You know what I think?" Mark said removing the handcuffs from his belt. "I think there's a lot you aren't telling us. You don't have a choice in this, Shelly Mason."

  She eyed the cuffs. "All right I'll go, but you better not fuck with me too long. I have things to do."

  * * *

  The interrogation room was a small space with barely enough room for a square table and three chairs. The door had a window to it, but other than that, there wasn't any way to observe whoever was inside through a one way or anything close to that. The town's budget did not come close to giving them enough for much more than the necessities.

  They left Shelly in the room and Scott followed Mark to the front office. "We don't have enough to hold her for long. What's the plan?"

  "You question her. I have a hunch to follow. Do me a favor. Try to get her on what happened that morning. She's had time to stew and has probably come up with a different version by now. Let her tell it, then ask her questions based on where she contradicts herself. Record it all."

  The young deputy shook his head. "Not sure I want to be here alone with her."

  "You have a point. Don't go in yet. Give me a minute."

  He walked out of the office and half a block to the insurance office. Misty looked up and must have seen a certain expression on his face because she stood. "Something up?"

  "Need to know if you'd mind helping us out with a female witness. Neither of us can be alone to interrogate her."

  "I suppose I can help out. Not much going on here." She shrugged. "Sure, I'll do it."

  "I'll have to deputize you and get you to sign a couple confidentiality forms."

  "Not a problem."

  * * *

  Once Misty was ensconced in the interrogation room with Scott and Shelly, Mark got into his overheated cruiser. He let the windows down to allow for cooler air, although the air outside was almost as hot.

  His phone rang again. Eliza. "Hey."

  "Can you stop by my house for a moment? Someone left a note." She sounded shaken.

  "I'll be there in a minute."

  The car already in motion, he drove the block and a half to her place, left the cruiser running and ran up the stairs. Eliza stood at the door waiting. She pointed to the cabinets. "The neighbor found my door wide open this morning and when I got up I saw that."

  The note was stuck to the cabinet with blue painter's tape. The message written in messy block lettering was short and to the point.

  Stay out of this. Forget what you saw or you're next.

  Mark took a breath to keep the boiling anger at bay. "I assume you didn't hear anything last night or early this morning then?"

  Her arms wrapped around her waist, her worried eyes looked to him. "No. I'm a heavy sleeper. Not that I'll sleep much after this."

  "I'm going to speak to Scott to see if he saw anyone out and about earlier. I am going to dust for fingerprints and take the note." He wanted to hold her, but this was not the time. It was best to keep a clear head. "Did you touch the note or that cabinet this morning?"

  Eliza shook her head. "No, I haven't gone near it. I haven't closed the door either, decided not to touch anything until you got here."

  "I'm sorry I didn't take your call earlier. I was working the case."

  "No need to explain." She closed her eyes and inhaled. "This is crazy. I'm not sure what to think."

  He neared and placed his hand on her shoulder. Had to touch her and give her some sort of steadying support. "Eddie was killed within view of your kitchen window. Then you caught sight of someone when you were leaving your place that morning. Lastly, you were the first witness. The killer must think you saw something."

  "I didn't." Her eyes glistened. "If I did I would have said something to you."

  "I know."

  An hour later, Mark walked Eliza to the diner. He left after Phil assured that he or one of the other guys would make sure she got home safely. Mark decided to hire Jerry Pike to change the locks on her door and install a deadbolt. It would help her feel safer.

  * * *

  Later that day he drove the two miles to the garage and pulled up alongside the front entrance. There were plenty of parking spaces, seemed the town folks were beginning to settle down and not seeking an oil change in exchange for information about Eddie.

  Just as he was about to exit the vehicle Leroy Malone walked out. He wiped at his face with a large handkerchief and narrowed his eyes towards him. "Hey there, Deputy. Is there something I can do for you? I was about to go over to Newton to get some parts."

  Mark walked to the older man who donned a pair of dark sunglasses. "I came to ask you a couple questions. Having a heck of a time narrowing down times and such from everyone."

  "Yeah. Sure. What can I do?" Malone was a stout man, about five-six. There was no question he'd spent too much time behind his desk or at the supper table. His shirt was tight around his round belly and the sleeves to his suit jacket looked about to burst at the seams.

  “What time did you say Jay Garrett arrived to work on the day Eddie was murdered?”

  Leroy scratched his head and frowned. "He was late. I'd say about nine forty-five or so."

  "Was everyone else at the shop on time?" Mark held his pad and pen up and studied the man before him who'd taken his keys out of his pocket and seemed impatient to leave.

  "Uh...I think so. Can't recall anyone else being late."

  "Did you see Jay Garrett arrive?"

  "I can't swear it." Leroy let out a frustrated breath. "I can't see the bay from my office. But they have to clock in, so a timecard report would show you what time he came in for sure."

  "Great, thanks. Can someone get that day's timecard for me?"

  "Yeah. Yeah." Leroy opened his car door. "I'll have them dropped it off at your office by the end of the day."

  "Thanks." Mark watched Leroy's truck back up and glide down the street in the direction of Newton.

  When he entered the garage, only a couple guys were milling about. Another man he recognized ran the register giving a cu
stomer a slip and pen to sign a receipt. He wanted until the customer left and neared the guy.

  "Is Jay Garrett here? I don't see him."

  The guy shrugged. "Nah, he called in today. Said he needed to take care of some personal stuff."

  Mark's gut clenched. He'd not had time to check on Eliza since dropping her off at work. He hoped someone had walked her home. "Thanks."

  He hurried to the cruiser and motored to the diner. It was still early in the evening. If she wasn't at work. She'd be at her apartment. Maybe. Hell, what did he know? Hadn't had a chance to get to know her yet. Her routines, hobbies, and daily activities were things he planned to become familiar with.

  The diner wasn't busy that time of day. Only a smattering of tables had people. Mark walked through the room and straight into the kitchen.

  Eliza's eyes widened at seeing him. She held some sort of utensil in one hand and with the other she pushed her hair back behind her ear. It was endearing to watch her blush at his scrutiny and look around to see if anyone noticed her reaction to him.

  "Hey, Mark." Phil neared and slapped him on the shoulder. "What's new?"

  It was obvious Phil thought he came back to see him, so he let Eliza, who's face had become completely flushed off the hook. He winked at her and turned to Phil. "Came to see if you were able to get me any four-one-one from the other day."

  The burly man laughed and led him back to the dining area. "That Mason woman is a basket case. One minute she was ranting about not getting Eddie's body and the next planning some sort of vacation in Gatlinburg." The man shook his head. "She did mention something about how just that morning they'd fought and how guilty she felt about it."

  "Did she say what they fought about?"

  "Something about Eddie wanting her to drive him to work so she could go get groceries. She said she didn't feel like leaving the house."

  "Anything else?"

  "Nope. After that, it was how the plans for the funeral were being ruined by you and Dr. Wilkes."