Free The Black Widow by C.J. Johnson

side together.”
    The two men were sat outside the Harrison's house. Mike wanted to confront the wife with the interesting information that he'd learnt just twenty minutes earlier. Coupled with what he'd learnt last night, he was anxious to talk to the grieving widow. Unwilling to discuss his marital problems, though he knew that Carl was only trying to help, Mike opened the passenger door and got out of the car.
    Carl followed and both men stepped up to Mrs Harrison's front door. Expecting a very hostile Mrs Harrison, Mike was relieved when a rather overweight middle-aged man opened the door. “Mr Harrison?”
    The man nodded. “I'm detective Mike Jamison and this is detective Carl Worthington. May we speak with Mrs Turner?”
    The man frowned at them. “Are you here to accuse her of anything? Because if you are, I'd like to call my solicitor to accompany her.” His wife had obviously told him about Mike's behaviour the night before.
    “We're not accusing anyone, Mr Harrison. But a man did die here last night, and in order to conduct a thorough investigation we need to gather all the facts. We only need a few minutes of Mrs Turner's time.”
    Mr Harrison frowned then stood aside to let the men in. Leaning in close so only Mike could hear, Carl whispered “take it easy, Mike”
    Mike gritted his teeth, bristling at the warning. “Cheryl's in there,” Mr Harrison said. He gestured to the closed door of the living room. “I'd like to remind you that she lost her husband last night and woke this morning a young widow. As you should be able to imagine, she's rather heartbroken.”
    “We'll be brief,” Mike assured him.
    Mr Harrison opened the door and walked in, his determined stride giving Mike the impression that he was going to be sure they did just that. Indeed, he immediately stood by Mrs Turner's side and gave Mike a look that clearly said he'd better be careful.
    “How are you feeling, Mrs Turner?” Mike asked.
    She certainly looked the part of the grieving widow this morning. Her dyed blond hair was stringy and greasy, hanging in oily coils around her pale face. Her raw red eyes seemed to have shrunk an inch into her skull and she visibly shook. She stared vacantly at the coffee table in front of her. She wore a large beige shirt, probably her husband's.
    Observing her, Mike felt a sudden flicker of doubt. What if he was wrong? He remembered the grotesque corpse, curled on its side with the arms covering the head. He thought of the look this woman had been directing at his back and the facts he'd gathered so far.
    His doubt disappeared as quickly as it came. This woman had plenty of reasons to hate her husband enough to kill him.
    It turns out that the late Dave Turner had been a lover of the ladies and had been having not one, but two affairs.
    A Miss Sheila Carlson had contacted the department earlier, asking if she could speak to an officer regarding the Dave Turner accident. Mike had spoken to the woman' who was Dave's secretary.
    In a broken and distressed voice, the woman told Mike that she and Dave had been having an affair for the past month or so. She was engaged to be married and didn't want her fiancée to find out. Mike explained that the investigation was ongoing and he couldn't control what her fiancée or Dave's widow were to find out when Miss Carlson dropped a bomb.
    Dave Turner's wife had known of the affair.
    When asked how she could be so sure as Mike's skin prickled with excitement at the possible strong motive, Miss Carlson had said simply "the email".
    She hadn't known whether Turner's wife had suspected the affair between the two, but she claimed that the wife had found out for sure around a week before Dave's death. Miss Carlson had sent Dave an email picture of the two having sex on Turner's desk during their lunch break.
    She hadn't known that Dave would remain out of the office for the remainder of that day.
    Miss Carlson had worked until 5pm and gone home.
    It was the next morning