My cup runneth over, p.1

My Cup Runneth Over, page 1

 

My Cup Runneth Over
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My Cup Runneth Over


  My Cup Runneth Over

  Psalm 23 Mysteries

  By Debbie Viguié

  Published by Big Pink Bow

  My Cup Runneth Over

  Copyright © 2019 by Debbie Viguié

  Published by Big Pink Bow

  www.bigpinkbow.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Dedicated to Becky Lewis for her tireless encouragement and support. Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  THE SPICE OF LIFE SAMPLE

  1

  Detective Mark Walters had a love-hate relationship with Thursdays. On the one hand they were the harbinger of Fridays, which still meant something to him even if he did end up working more weekends than he would like. There was a weird sort of restless, impatient anticipation that came with the day. He personally liked that feeling. What he didn’t like was when other people couldn’t cope with that feeling. And, of course, being the day after a major holiday just made things crazier.

  That’s why he wasn’t entirely surprised to be staring at a dead body. What did surprise him was that he’d been the one to stumble across it.

  In his backyard.

  Well, technically it wasn’t his backyard. It was just the backyard of the house Traci and he were renting while they waited for insurance to finish up doing whatever it was they were doing regarding their old house which had burnt to the ground. Joseph and Geanie had been kind enough to invite them to stay with them indefinitely, but he had thought that in order to return to some semblance of normality they should find their own place. They had moved in a week earlier. Clearly, that had been a mistake.

  “Go back inside, Buster,” Mark told he dog, unclipping the leash from his collar.

  Buster looked at him for a moment and then went in the house. Mark closed the sliding glass door behind him. The yard wasn’t fenced so he’d been taking Buster for his morning constitutional. Buster had seen the body first, baying to let Mark know that there was trouble.

  The body was that of a young woman. Mark judged her to be somewhere around twenty. She was splayed out on the lawn. She had bruises and a deep, red mark around her throat. If he had to guess, he’d say that her killer had just let the body fall after choking her to death.

  He’d called it in immediately. Now, three minutes later, he found it difficult not to approach the body and start examining it and the scene more closely. He knew better, though. Officers needed to grab some pictures before anyone else got any closer. He was hoping they’d be able to find some footprints out there that weren’t his or the victim’s.

  Even more upsetting than finding a dead body in his backyard was knowing that she had likely been killed there while he had been sleeping inside. He hadn’t heard anything. It didn’t make him feel much better, though. He wished he could have saved her.

  He heard the sliding glass door open.

  “Mark?” Traci called.

  “Don’t come out here,” he said gruffly as he turned to face her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  She’d been a cop’s wife long enough to know what it meant when he used that tone of voice. She’d been his wife long enough to know when he was being evasive, so he decided not to bother. As soon as the first squad car got there it would be obvious anyway.

  “There’s a dead body on the lawn.”

  “Oh no!”

  “I don’t recognize her. It’s a young woman,” Mark said, to forestall the obvious next question. “It looks like someone murdered her.”

  Traci said something that was thoroughly unladylike yet highly appropriate.

  “Put money in the swear jar,” he said automatically.

  She said something else worthy of the jar before closing the door.

  Mark was still finding it weird that Traci had become a Christian. Logically, he saw how she got there. It just was taking some getting used to on his part. Mostly to cover up his own sense of anxiety he had started teasing her mercilessly on the rare occasions that she swore. He had created the jar and made her put money in it every time she said something he deemed worthy of it. He had joked that they’d take the money and use it for a vacation. So far they had enough for about a quarter of a tank of gas.

  He recognized that it was childish on his part, but fortunately his wife understood him and his coping mechanisms well enough to go along with it. Now, if she came to the realization that she should start making him pay in, then he’d be in trouble. Of course, the presence of tiny, innocent ears in the house had already made him curtail his language far more than any swear jar could ever do.

  He could hear cars arriving at the front of the house. He was grateful that they’d left off their sirens. The last thing they needed was to alert the whole neighborhood to their problem. At least, not at six in the morning.

  If I’d been alerted last night that she had a problem, there’d be no need to worry about it now, he thought.

  He could hear men walking next to the side of the house. He turned and saw two officers, Taylor and Monroe, round the corner of the house.

  “Morning,” Mark said.

  Taylor held up his hand. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to step inside the house for a few minutes.”

  “Very funny,” Mark said, not exactly in the mood for a joke.

  “Sir, I-” Taylor turned fully toward him and stopped abruptly. “Detective Walters?”

  “Last time I checked.”

  “What are you doing here in your robe?”

  “I live here,” Mark said, narrowing his eyes.

  Monroe busted out laughing.

  “Why didn’t you tell me where we got called to?” Taylor asked the other officer.

  “Because of this. The look on your face is priceless,” Monroe said.

  Mark heard more footsteps and a moment later Liam rounded the corner with a scowl on his face.

  “Break it up, you two,” he snapped. “Have some respect for the dead.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Monroe said.

  “Sorry,” Taylor muttered.

  Liam turned to Mark and gave him the tiniest of smiles.

  This kind of work was emotionally taxing in a way most people could never understand. He didn’t blame the other two for their jocularity. Heaven knew Mark had developed a strong sense of gallows humor. He was sure he’d said some inappropriate things before, but he did his best to not appear flippant in front of witnesses.

  “Maybe it would be a good idea for you to wait inside while the officers secure the crime scene,” Liam said.

  “Whatever you say,” Mark said.

  He turned and went into the house. Liam came with him. As soon as he had closed the sliding glass door, he looked at Mark and rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry about Tweedledee and Tweedledum out there.”

  “Frankly I’m just glad Taylor no longer looks like he’s going to vomit when he arrives at a crime scene.”

  Liam chuckled.

  Mark sat down at the dining table and Liam did the same.

  “How are you holding up?” Liam asked.

  “As well as can be expected, I think.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I got up, put on the coffee, turned on the backyard lights, grabbed my phone, and took Buster out for a walk.”

  “And what time was that?”

  “Approximately 5:48.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “We only made it a few steps. Buster bayed like there was something wrong, something in the yard. That’s when I saw the young woman.”

  “Where she is she should have been clearly visible due to the lights. How come you didn’t see her right off?”

  “Because I was staring straight ahead and up, not looking off to the left and on the ground where she is.”

  “Then what?”

  “I called it in. Once I had I sent Buster back into the house. Traci opened the door a couple minutes later. I told her there was a dead body. She closed the door and I kept waiting until Tweedledee and Tweedledum showed up.”

  “Did you touch the body or anything else?”

  “No.”

  Mark knew it was Liam’s job to ask. He didn’t begrudge him that. It wasn’t unheard of for a law enforcement officer who knew better to touch a body or contaminate the crime scene when they were the ones who found the body at home or somewhere else unexpected. Shock had a way of short-circuiting the logic centers of the brain. Even he’d had

to fight the urge to examine the body. Curiosity and the need to understand were two huge driving factors of human nature and they were still present even when logic was on vacation.

  “Is it normal for you to carry your cell with you on these morning walks?”

  “Yes. Buster often takes a couple of minutes and I check messages, email, weather, whatever.”

  “Did you recognize the young woman?”

  “No.”

  “Did Traci?”

  “Traci didn’t see the body. I told her not to come outside.”

  “Did you hear any noises outside?”

  “No. Nothing,” Mark said, trying to keep his frustration under control.

  “Did Buster bark last night?”

  “No, he was asleep in the bedroom all night. There wasn’t a peep from him. Then again, I’m convinced he couldn’t hear a freight train going through here when he’s really out. He snores very loudly.”

  “So does your wife,” Liam commented.

  “What?” Mark asked. “How do you know that?”

  “You’ve told me. And, even if you hadn’t, anyone who’s been in the same wing when you stay at Joseph’s has heard her.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty epic,” Mark admitted.

  “So, I think it’s plausible that you didn’t hear anything last night.”

  “Gee, thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

  Liam shrugged. “If a body dropped on any other lawn the first people you and I would be questioning would be the homeowners.”

  “I know, that’s exactly what I’ve done, remember?” Mark said, thinking about the body of the homeless man that had turned up on Jeremiah’s lawn.

  Liam looked at him quizzically.

  “Sorry, I forgot that was before your time,” Mark muttered.

  “Let me get this straight. You didn’t see anything. You didn’t hear anything. You don’t know anything.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why do I feel like we’re in New York?” Liam joked.

  “Well, it happens to be true,” Mark said. “I wish I had heard anything. Maybe if I had-”

  “No,” Liam said, cutting him off. He shook his head sternly. “Don’t go there. There was no way you could have known. There was nothing you could have done to help. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Mark said, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

  “Morning, Liam,” Traci said as she came into the room. She had dressed and looked far more ready to tackle the day than Mark was.

  “Morning, Traci. Sorry about all this.”

  Traci nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Let me know when you’re ready to question me.”

  “We can get that over with now while Mark goes and puts on some clothes,” Liam suggested.

  “Thank you,” Mark said, standing up.

  He beat a hasty retreat to the bedroom where he quickly changed clothes under Buster’s watchful eye.

  “It’s unnerving when you stare at me like that,” Mark told the dog.

  Buster just blinked and rested his head down on the bed.

  “Maybe the excitement of your day is over, but mine is just getting started,” Mark told him.

  Once he had gotten completely changed, he poked his head into the twins’ bedroom to check on them. They were both still asleep which was a small mercy. He tiptoed back out of the room, hoping that he hadn’t disturbed them. Sometimes he swore that they could tell when someone was looking at them and wake from a dead sleep in response.

  As he crept back down the hallway all seemed well. He must have gotten away with it. Still, he breathed easier once he made it back to the dining room. Traci stood up from the table when she saw him.

  “Please, don’t let me interrupt,” he said.

  “She was done hours ago,” Liam said with a smile.

  “Would you like me to make some breakfast?” she asked, eyeing both of them.

  Mark desperately wanted to say yes. Normally he just grabbed something like a yogurt or a bagel for breakfast. Still, he didn’t want her to have to put forth the effort.

  Liam smiled. “You know I’m not one to turn down home cooking, but please don’t put yourself out on my account.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Hon, you want anything?”

  “Yes!” Mark said eagerly.

  Traci turned away but he saw her smile before she did so. She was handling the whole thing remarkably well. If their roles had been reversed he was fairly certain he would have been more of a wreck.

  She started moving about the kitchen, gathering things to make pancakes. Mark’s stomach grumbled noisily in anticipation. He turned back to Liam, trying to focus on the murder at hand.

  In the kitchen Traci began humming softly. It struck him as odd. Liam looked puzzled as well.

  Mark stood up and walked over to stand beside Traci.

  “Honey, you feeling okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling faintly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Because you know we’ve got a dead body in the backyard.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why is it that you’re smiling?” he asked, bewildered.

  “Because I’m wondering how long it takes before one of you calls Jeremiah and asks if he left it there.”

  2

  Jeremiah was in the middle of a dream when his phone rang and woke him up. He grabbed it and saw that Mark was calling.

  “Hello?” he asked groggily.

  “Did you kill anyone last night?” the detective asked bluntly.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Jeremiah said with a yawn. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s a dead body in my backyard.”

  “What?” Jeremiah asked as he sat up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re fine, just a bit… confused, put out, I don’t know what to call it.”

  “Why did you think I had something to do with it?”

  “I didn’t. Traci made a comment, though, and… look, I figured if it was you then you would have at least had the courtesy to call me and let me know before I found it this morning.”

  “Depends on the circumstances,” Jeremiah said.

  “Thanks, that’s very reassuring,” Mark said sarcastically.

  “Sorry, if you wanted reassurance you should have called someone else.”

  “Clearly.” Mark sighed audibly. “Still, everything okay with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You at home?”

  “Yes. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No. It should be fine. I’ll call if I need anything.”

  “Okay.”

  Mark hung up and Jeremiah sat for a moment staring at the phone. Next to him Captain yawned noisily and reached out to put a paw on Jeremiah’s leg.

  “I know, but what was he trying to say about Traci?” Jeremiah asked the German shepherd.

  Mark had told him not to come over, but Jeremiah couldn’t shake the feeling that he should. He got up, much to Captain’s disgust. A minute later he was getting dressed. He decided to wear a long-sleeved button down light blue shirt that Cindy had given him for Christmas the day before. It was the first time that someone had given him an article of clothing as a gift since he was a kid. As he looked in the mirror he had to admit that it did look good on him, just as she had said it would.

  After grabbing his wallet from the dresser he hesitated. He was debating whether or not to bring a weapon. He carried one most days anymore. However, he was heading over to an active crime scene crawling with police officers. Since it was at Mark’s house, his friend would not be the one in charge of the crime scene either. He weighed the options. It wasn’t like he had a permit for the gun he had been carrying. He also knew that the knife that was his preferred alternate weapon was illegal to carry in the state because of the length of the blade. Of course, he wore weapons all the time around police officers and the only one who’d ever caught him was Mark and it had been a year since then. Plus, he never again intended to be caught without one when he needed it.

  “This decision should not be so difficult,” he told Captain.

 

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