The Fling

 

They had just finished making love. They had been seeing each other for about a month regularly in the early evenings.  In her flat lying on her bed together she propped herself on her elbow and said facing him, "I want more."

"You want more what?" he said puzzled.

"I want a full time man."

"You know better than that," he stated frowning. "My wife, my kids, it's just not possible."

"I don't care!" she exclaimed becoming upset. "If you love me, you will leave her!"

"You know I can't do that, at least, not yet."

"I'll tell her," she said seriously.

"You'll tell her what?"

"I'll tell her that we been seeing each other and you are planning to leave her," she said contemplatively.

"You can't, I need more time!" he said becoming concerned.

"I'll give you a week," she said after a few moments.

He was silent for about ten minutes.   He just quietly looked at her.  His face was expressionless. She said nothing.  They just studied each other trying to read each other’s faces as though they might be able to read each other’s minds.  Finally he said, "Okay.  Have it your way."

He began kissing her and she eagerly responded believing she had won.  He laid on top of her pinning her under himself and clasped his hands around her throat.  His face turning red with anger and strain as he squeezed with all his might.  A look of shock and horror crossed her face as she looked up into his glaring eyes.  She began struggling.  She tried with all her might to free herself and to breathe.  Her face turned red and her eyes grew large, her lungs screaming for air.  Her struggle lessened and stopped.  Her face became pale with a bluish tint.  Her pupils began to dilate.

He knew she was dead for several minutes before he was able to let go. Carefully he looked through her flat for anything that may have belonged to him or might tie him somehow to her.  He found her address book and took it.  He dressed, and then wiped every surface that might have had his fingerprints on. "Damn!" he thought.  He wished he had never seen the beautiful blonde.  He closed the front door, locking it behind him with a handkerchief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight o'clock in the morning and Jo arrived at work.  She put her bag in her locker and got ready for the day.  She had been a detective for just over a year. Jo had always wanted to be in the force, but after several years she was beginning to have doubts about staying, she wanted more. As a detective, she was always getting a good look at the darker side of human nature.  She was becoming callous.

She was in good physical shape and pretty tough for a woman in her mid-thirties. She was attractive for her age, average in height and build, dark hair and hazel eyes.  She was wearing a light blue cotton shirt and black trousers.  She wore no makeup. She had never married, although she had dated many men, the relationships had been mostly short term. 

"Hi, Steve!" Jo said smiling as he opened his locker.  Steve was tall, dark and handsome and was a year or two younger than Jo. He had been detective for three years.  Promotions seem to come quicker to men than women in the force.  He was now her senior partner.

"Morning, Jo." he said. He seemed tired.

"It's going to be a hot day for a long sleeve shirt," She told him.

"Yeah, you’re probably right.  Should have worn short sleeve.”

"Rough night?" She asked.

"Definitely, I am not sure I slept at all."

"Problems at home?" She queried.

"No, not really.  Just one of those nights”

They were assigned to a new case and went to the scene.  Sarah Johnson, early twenties, had been strangled apparently after having sex.  There were no signs of forced entry and no obvious signs of rape.  Her eyes were wide open and glazed.  Her mouth was open. Her beauty much lost in death, her nude body lay sprawled on the bed.

"How long she been dead," Steve asked the Coroner.

"My guess is about 5 - 7 hours.   She probably put up a struggle.  There seems to be skin under her nails.  I'll know more when I study her at the lab."

"The faster, the better," Jo said. "Time is working against us."

The forensics team were dusting for prints, vacuuming for hair, and such.  Jo and Steve had passed a young woman who was sitting on the sofa with a policeman, giving an initial statement.  She was teary eyed and had obviously been crying.  The policeman said, "This is Jayne Myers.  She found Miss Johnson."

"How did you happen to find her?" asked Steve.

"I came by, was giving her a lift to work, but she didn't come down.  So I came upstairs and let myself in," she said her voice breaking. "Oh God! She's dead!"

"Why do you have a key to her flat?" Jo asked.

"I tried to wake her, but she was so cold and wouldn't move," she said crying again.

"Why do you have a key?" Jo repeated.

"Oh, we exchanged keys with each other about a year ago when she went on holiday, so we could get into each other's flat if we needed to.  You know, to collect the mail and water the plants."  Explained Jayne, sobbing again.

"That's all right Jayne," Jo said sympathetically, “Did you notice anything or anyone unusual?”

"No."

"Did she have a boyfriend?" Jo asked.  The flat appeared to be that of a single woman.

"She was seeing someone new, I think.  I believe he was married."

"Jayne, now this is important.  Is there anything you can tell me about this man?" Jo asked.

"No," she replied. "I've never seen him and she hardly talked about him."

"Well, if something should occur to you," Steve interjected handing her his card, "Call me."

"Did Sarah have any boyfriends before this new one that you know of?" Jo asked.

"For about two years she dated Matt Simmons.  He's the only one I know.  Was Sarah murdered?  I don't think he would have done a thing like that."

It was going to be in the papers anyway, so Jo said "Yes, she was murdered."  Jo watched her reaction closely, but read nothing suspicious.

"There is no one else you can think of?" demanded Steve.

"No."

Jo guessed that Steve was just grouchy from lack of sleep.  Jo asked nicely, "Do you know where we can find Matt?"

"Yes.  He works at Smithsons on Laurel Way. At least he did a couple of months ago."

"Thanks, Jayne."  Jo said.  "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions.  Be sure to call us if you think of anything that might be helpful.  Even the smallest detail.”

Matt Simmons was the assistant manager at Smithsons.

"How long have you known Sarah Johnson?" asked Steve.

"Is there something wrong with Sarah?"  He said apparently with deep concern.

"Answer the question," Steve retorted.

"About five years. We were pretty serious for the last two, but we broke up a couple of months ago."

"Why did you break up?" Jo enquired.

"Well, to be honest, she was never quite satisfied with me and was always finding fault.  It was kind of a mutual decision.  We agreed to some time apart.  Is she all right?"

"No. She's dead," Steve stated bluntly."

Matt’s mouth fell open and his face paled. "Dead!" he repeated.

"Did you kill her?" Steve continued fiercely.

"Me?"  Said Matt, and paled even more if possible.  After a moment he said,  "I would never hurt Sarah," and tears appeared at his eyes.

He was either the best liar Jo had seen or innocent and she was betting on the latter.

They asked him about friends they shared and if he knew any one who might have held a grudge against her and Steve left him with his card.

The next day was supposed to be cooler so Steve's long sleeve shirt seemed more weather appropriate.  Jo was wearing a jacket.  There was a shortage of normal prints, so it was assumed the murderer had tried to clean away his prints.  The blood type of the killer was relatively common, but there was enough tissue for a DNA comparison.  It appeared that the sex, which occurred just prior to her death, was consensual.

They questioned her friends and her co-workers and came up with nothing promising.  It was a long day and Jo and Steve worked until dark. Steve's behaviour had been puzzling Jo.  He just didn't seem to himself.  He was edgy and quick tempered which was just not his way.

Jokingly Jo said, "You're blood group matches that with Sarah Johnson"  They were driving in their vehicle at the time and the look on Steve’s face took Jo by surprise.  It was a look of fear.  Jo had never seen him afraid.

Jo was deeply troubled by the thoughts she was having and said, "Stop the car, Steve."

He pulled to the side of the road. "Roll up your sleeves,” Jo said."

Instead Steve pulled out a gun and pointed it at her.  Somehow it was impossible for Jo to believe that he would shoot and yet she knew that he might at the same time. "Put your head in my lap and your hands behind you back," he said in a sinisterly understated calm.

Jo did as he instructed. She felt the handcuffs clench round her wrists. "What are you going to do, Steve?  You will never get away with killing me." She gasped.

He remained silent.  Jo guessed he was trying to decide what to do.  He began driving out of town.

"Steve, this is insane," Jo told him. "You know you can't do it."

He drove to a woodland area off the beaten track.  He parked, opened the passenger door, unfastened her seat belt, and said, "Get out of the car."

"Steve," She said panicking. "You don't know what you're doing. Think!"

"Walk," he commanded.  Jo began walking from the road toward the woods. He was really going to kill her.  It was pointless.  He would never get away with it, but he was going to do it.  Jo was both amazed and frightened.  She had seen death so much that the possibility of it she had often considered and in some ways she was prepared.  She was also fascinated in an odd sort of way.  It was almost like being outside herself and viewing it from that perspective.  She knew she was walking to her death.

"Steve, please!" She begged.

"I really liked you, Jo.  I hate to have to do this, but prison is no place for a cop."

He forced her about a mile into the woods and then helped her sit with her back against the tree.  "Steve, please don't,” She pleaded crying.

Steve held the gun to her temple and said, "Close your eyes."

Steve wiped his prints from the weapon and placed her right hand around it after he had removed his cuffs and squeezed.  This left only her prints on the gun.  He allowed it to fall from her hand.  Jo had died instantly.  He took her keys from her pocket and drove back to the police station.  He put on gloves, being careful not to be noticed, he drove off in her car.  He returned to the place in the woods where he had parked earlier and drove her car off the road into the woods.  Then he walked to where he had left her body.  He dropped her keys close to the pocket of her trousers he had removed them from.  Then he began the long walk home.

Steve wore long sleeve shirts for about two weeks, regardless of the heat. Jo's body was discovered two days after her death.  Full scale investigations took place because she was a police officer.  Her death was determined to be a suicide.  Matt Simmons was considered the best suspect for the murder of Sarah Johnson, but there was not enough evidence and his blood type didn’t match.

Steve carried on being unfaithful, but was more careful in his choice of women for his flings.

Reviews

[Serendipity]

Amazing.

This was unbelievably crazy and Steve psychotic. How this story came to be was simply amazing. You never imagine this is where it is heading, you had me from the beginning, completely captivated until the end.

[purpleeye]

captivating ... keep writing... is there a second chapter?