She was at a house up at the lake. We think she was involved with Tyrone Williams. Do you know him? He was a patient at the hospital where Sue works a couple of months back. I never met him.
His wife caught them in bed together. She killed them both. What? How? I asked.
Shotgun blast to your wife's face damn near blew her head completely off. Friday looks at his partner. But why? I asked. Again, Morgan speaks up.
I imagine it had something to do with the size of his banana. I've seen horses that did not have bananas that big. Henry, wait in the hall. Detective Morgan starts for the door and then turns as if he forgot to say something. Sorry for your loss.
I just nod as he leaves. I'm sorry about that. He's new. It looks like Tyrone's wife, Bambi, came into the room with a shotgun. She shot your wife first, then turned the gun on Tyrone.
He moved pretty quickly, and she hit him in the leg. He made it to his .45 pistol he always carried. He has a concealed carry permit and managed to get two shots off before she could reload that double barrel. She died instantly. Tyrone lived long enough to call 911, but he died from loss of blood before the ambulance could get there.
You had no idea about the affair? None at all, I replied. Okay, stick to that story. He then hands me his card. On the back is the number to the morgue.
There will be an autopsy, but the body should be available by Monday. I am sorry about all this, but sometimes good things come out of bad things. He turns and walks out the door. Ann rushes in and locks the door behind her. Get that smile off your face.
Uncle Joe knows the truth and that you just lied. He found a receipt from Starbucks in her car and he checked the cameras. He saw you talking to Bambi this morning. But don't worry about him. The same thing happened to him some years ago with his first wife.
Now you have to play the grieving husband who just lost his wife. You need to get home and take care of your daughter. Give me that card with the morgue's number. I handle getting her body to a funeral home. Cremation okay with you?
I nodded, yes. Go into your bathroom and throw some water on your face. Don't dry it off. You need to look upset. I handed her the card and went into the bathroom.
As I stared at my wet face in the mirror, I did start to cry. I did not want Sue dead. She is Becky's mother. I just wanted a divorce from her cheating ass. What is going to happen now?
I lied to the police. Then it hit me. Uncle Joe? I rushed back into my office. Uncle Joe?
I asked. My mother's brother. My dad was his partner until he retired last year. Don't worry about him. I'll talk to him.
He will understand. I grabbed my briefcase and walked out into the hall. Before I can get out into the parking lot, a couple of my bosses come up and offer their condolences. I thank them, then drive home. There is no easy way to tell a child their mother has been killed.
Under these circumstances, I decided to tell her that a very bad person killed her mother. Nothing more. She cried and I held her. I cried also. Not for Sue, for Becky.
I hated to see her so upset. I finally got her to sleep. Then I took a shower and lay down to try and figure this all out. Ann had taken charge of the situation and I had let her. Why?
I guess I was too upset and not thinking straight. Sometime after midnight, Becky came into my room and got in bed with me. I held her as she cried herself to sleep. The next morning, I was up early and in the kitchen making pancakes, Becky's favorite breakfast, when the doorbell rang. There was Ann and this beautiful girl, her partner I imagine, standing there.
Looking past them, I see Sue's car in the driveway. Uncle Joe gave me the keys, so I thought we would drive down this morning and bring it to you. How is Becky? About as well as can be expected, I said as they walked past me into the house. I smell pancakes, shouted the partner.
And this must be Becky. This girl squats down and introduces herself. My name is Donna. That lady over there is Ann. We are friends of your daddy.
Becky starts to tear up. Somebody killed my mama. Now she is crying. Donna stands up and then picks Becky up in her arms. I know, baby, I know.
She carries her down the hall patting her on her back and whispering into her ear. Donna is good with kids. She'll take care of her. Let's finish those pancakes. We did not eat breakfast this morning and I'm starved.
As I worked the grill, Ann set the table and told me how Uncle Joe had already closed the case. She said he advised me not to talk to the press and if anyone asked, I was to stick to my story of not knowing anything about the affair. Donna and Becky came back into the kitchen. Donna had changed Becky out of her pajamas and into a cute outfit. As Becky ate her pancakes, she explained how Donna and she were going to look through all the pictures of her mama and pick out the ones for her funeral.
I looked at Donna. She winked at me. Then we are going shopping for a new dress for the funeral. I have to look pretty for mama. Again, a wink.
I told you she is good with kids. That's what we did. For the next couple of hours, Donna and Becky looked through every photo we had of Sue. They selected one that was just a head shot of Sue. She told Becky they would get that one enlarged and sit by the urn with her mama's ashes.
Then they selected five more that would be framed and set on the table. They were of happier times. One was when Becky was born, another was of all three of us on vacation at the beach. Then there was one with just Sue and Becky. That one was Becky's favorite.
By the time they had finished going through all the photos, it was lunchtime. Becky suggested Mickey D's and we all thought that an excellent idea. The restaurant had a playground and while Donna and Becky played on the swing set, Ann and I watched out the window. Donna would make a great mother for Becky. Without thinking I said, "Yes, she would." Then I looked at Ann.
I started to apologize. I didn't mean She took my hand. "I don't mind sharing." I guess by now you can figure out how this story ends. Ann took care of the funeral arrangements and Sue was cremated. At the funeral, I gave her ashes to her father, Dr. Hart.
I also reminded him that Becky was his only granddaughter and that he could see her whenever he wanted. It was not his fault his daughter was a lying, unfaithful wife and it had taken me 4 years to finally catch her. Donna was a good mother, not only to Becky, but to our two kids also. Ann? Well, Ann stayed for almost 3 years, then she moved on.
She still visits every now and then. Our kids call her Aunt Ann. Donna and her take long lunches sometimes. I don't mind sharing, but only with Ann.