'Til Death Do Us Part-

  This takes place in season 7 after "Kellerman PI"

  Disclaimer: Characters used from “Homicide: Life on the Street” belong to Baltimore Pictures and NBC Productions and are used without permission. This story may be copied or placed in the public domain so long as the author’s original name and story remain intact.
 

***

"Are you awake?"

"No."

"Too bad, I have to leave soon."

 Meldrick Lewis turned over to face the woman in the bed with him.
Her hair was in disarray and her brown eyes were serious.

 "I have a class at four," she said.

 He dredged his arm up from under the covers to read his watch.
"Yeah, I got to get over to the bar. Munch wants to check inventory
before shift begins."

 "So can I call you tomorrow?" she asked turned away from him,
pulling on her sweater.

 "I'll be at the Waterfront until ten. You could always swing by
instead, Maria."

 She paused in zipping up her boot. "I might, but don't count on it."

 Maria stood and walked over to the open bathroom door. She
picked up Meldrick's clothing one piece at a time and placed them
carefully on the foot of the bed.

 "We could still have coffee," she said, seeing him gazing out of
the window.

 "Not this time. Was gonna stop at the Target. Out of milk." He sat
up and reached for his shirt. "You could come along," he added.

 "No thank you," she said with icy finality.

 "Suit yourself," he replied, with a shrug of the shoulders and throwing
off the bedsheets.

 Meldrick dressed slowly, and Maria waited by the door, her bag on
her shoulder and her hands clasped in front of her. Looking over the
room one last time, he strode over and took her in his arms. "Until next time."

 For the first time since they had awoken, she smiled. They left the hotel
together but not touching. There was one last kiss in the parking lot before
they started their separate cars. Meldrick watched as she turned right out
of the parking lot, noticing she did not once look back. He sighed and turned left.

 ---

 "Another amorous afternoon?"  Munch hadn't even turned toward the
door as he spoke.

 "None of your business," Meldrick answered smoothly through the
grin on his face.

 "And when am I going to meet this woman?"

 "Never," Meldrick replied quickly, but then added on. "I asked her to
drop in tonight, but I don't think she will."

 "We are not a high class establishment, but it is far from an embarrassment."

 "She lives with her sister and her kids. She doesn't like to come home
late and wake them up."

 "I thought you said she was well-off?"

 "They live in her house. The kid's dad ran off, and Maria told them they
could stay with her."

 "Just the kind of benevolence one would expect from a social worker."

 "She's not a social worker, she's... I don't even know why I told you any of this."

 "Because you needed to share the news. Does a falling tree make a sound
in an empty forest? Does a man truly get laid if he doesn't tell anyone?"

 Meldrick walked past Munch at the bar and into the kitchen.

*-*-*-*

 Mike Kellerman was bored and had to sneeze. The things he had to do to
earn a buck in this town. In turning to cover his mouth, he moved out of position
and his auto-focus trained in a lamppost and blurred the two people inside the
apartment across the street. Any dumbass that can't close his curtains while having
an affair deserves to be caught. He had taken maybe half a dozen shots with both
faces clearly visible and that was enough proof  Mrs. Jaspersen was going to get
for $325 a day that her husband wasn't spending his Saturdays at the Terps football
games. Just as he thought this, the two disappeared as the light went out in the room,
and he couldn't take another photo if he wanted.

 The hallway he was crouching in was an office closed for the weekend. He knew
the guy who cleaned the floors, and he had agreed to sneak Mike in there for the
afternoon. He locked the door behind him, too tired to have more than a cursory
glance around the place, and dropped the keys in his glove compartment. It was
late enough to think the traffic had gone down, but as usual he was wrong. It was
Saturday night and the number of people leaving the city was just as great as the
number coming in.

 Traffic staggered along to the Harbor Tunnel right at the toll booth. Mike threw
in his quarters and stayed with his foot on the brake. The air stood still along with
him, and with his window down Kellerman waited for a random breeze. Not
surprisingly, the air conditioner was dead in his truck. It was smooth enough on
the outside, but it didn't run for shit, as he told anyone who asked.

 Kellerman had no great love for the tunnel. He'd much rather be on top of the
water than under it, no matter how short it actually was in rational terms. Inching
closer, he was distracted from his casual observation of the two college-age women
in a Jeep two lengths ahead by the reflection of flashing lights along the tunnel walls.
Police or construction, he asked himself. Each was equally bad in keeping this logjam intact.

 Closer to the entrance, a uniform was waving people along and things went a bit
faster past the cordoned off section on the right lane just outside of the tunnel. There
was a green Ford Escort parked in the emergency lane, surrounded by marked cars
and people. The car in front of Mike was taking a good long look before moving on
so he was able to read the license plate when one of the officers stepped aside.

 Mike hit the horn, but it gave a low weak sound like that of a dying elephant. He put
his foot down hard on the brakes. He was given many more honks in return from
younger stronger cars behind but he was busy yelling out the window.

 "Hey!"

 An officer he didn't recognize ran over. "You can't just stop, sir. Please move along."

 "You don't understand. I know that car. What happened?"

 The man looked at him as if he were any other civilian. "I can't say, but if you'd
drive along and park up on the shoulder out of the tunnel, I'll get someone to
speak to you."

 He backed away and the horn chorus started again. Mike nodded and drove ahead.
There was an ambulance parked among the vehicles spanning the shoulder but it
looked as if it was in no hurry. That can't be good.

 Even though she had gotten a new car, she had that plate ever since Mike knew her.
The only person who would proclaim MSSMOKY to the world. She had claimed it
was from the exhaust of the first Chevette that had worn it, but they had turned it into
a joke. "Where there's smoke there's fire." Mrs. and Mr. Kellerman, Annie and Michael.

 Mike cursed the tape player. It ate anything it touched, and the radio came and went
with no clear pattern. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts right now.

  In his rearview mirror, he saw Stu Gharty puffing his way along the gravel. A sinking
feeling came over Mike. If something had happened to Annie, and that was a good
chance with a homicide detective coming toward him, it may never be solved with
Gharty at the helm. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for anything.

 "Hey, Kellerman," said Stu. "You know something about this?"

 "What happened?"

 "Mind if I come in and sit down? I'm dying out here." Gharty looked anxiously at
the passenger seat.

 Mike nodded, "Yeah, go ahead." and waited for the older man to get comfortable.
Gharty loosened his tie and felt in his pocket for his glasses. Content they were there,
he turned to Mike.

 "The car back there belongs to my ex-wife. Are you going to tell me what happened?
Was she in there?"

  "What was her name?" Gharty was shuffling papers in his lap but kept his eyes on Mike.

 "Annie. Anne Kearney. She went back to her own name after the divorce."

 "That's the name we have on the registration and the identification in a purse. Does
she have any family?"

 "Her mom lives in Dundalk. Damn it, Gharty are you going to tell me what happened to her?"

 "We have a victim who was strangled and left in the passenger seat. A motorist called
in the abandoned car about an hour ago. She was lying across into the driver's side so
I guess no one noticed her in there before. The keys are still in the ignition. Docs say
she's been dead a couple hours. We haven't gotten any clear evidence how long the
car's been there."

"Can I see her?" Mike asked. "Make sure it really is her."

 "You can go down to the ME's and see if you can identify the body from there." Gharty
turned around in his seat, and that was accompanied by a long sigh of effort. "They've
already driven off anyway."

 Mike was looking ahead. "You aren't going to let me help on this one, are you? I
should just let the real policemen," he spit the phrase out like a pip, "handle this one?
You'll keep me informed? Is that right?"

 "Look Kellerman, I'm really sorry about this, but you know there's nothing you can
really do. Just go down to the ME's and see if it is her after all." Gharty reached for
the door and pushed it open. "You know where to find us. If you don't mind coming
in and answering a few questions, I'm sure that would steer us in the right direction."
He started to walk away, and Mike started the engine. The motor whined and he
realized it had already been running.

 The parking was fairly clear around the building. Nearly the 21st century and people
still did not want to be around the dead after the sun went down. Mike walked down
the halls, and ended up in the long main examining room that was probably not
state-of-the-art but served its purpose.

 "Hey Scheiner."

 The old doctor did not look up, but one of the assistants moved up between him
and the tables.  "Kellerman? What are you doing in here?"

 "He's with me." Mike turned around to see Gharty open the door.

 "I've come to identify a body," he said, without further acknowledging Gharty.

 "The strangulation victim we just got out of the Harbor Tunnel," Stu clarified.

 Scheiner walked up then, and paid no attention to the strain between the other
three men. "We haven't even had time to unzip her yet, so we'll all get a look at
her together."

 It was Annie. She was lying there with a thin red line around her neck just like
the ones she would get after insisting to wear the jeans that were a bit too tight
in the waist. He had only seen her a week ago, but she had gotten a haircut.
Her bangs were no longer falling in her eyes, but in a straight row brushed to
one side. Mike turned away.

 Gharty took the step back with him. "Her?"

 Mike nodded. "I need to tell Molly. You're not going to beat me to it."

 "Who's Molly?"

 "Annie's mother. She deserves to hear it from me." Mike was already back
into the hall.

 Gharty was keeping pace and it took all he had. "And why is that?"

 "I know how to say it. You don't care, it would be too impersonal."

 Stu was very defensive at any cracks on his ability to do the job. "I know
how to break the news."

 "Look, if you're going to keep on my ass like this, at least let me do this much."

  They were in the lot and Gharty dangled the keys in his hand. "How about
you ride with me?"

 "Don't you have a real partner on this case?" Mike kept walking to his Explorer.

 "I just thought you could give me some background, anything that you think could help."

 Mike laughed, "I don't think so." As much as he wanted to get involved, he
couldn't shake the feeling Gharty was searching for something to pin this on him.

 "All right," Stu huffed out. "I guess I'll see you there. If I get there first, all bets
are off though."

  They turned in opposite directions out of the parking lot, but Kellerman knew
Gharty had less of a sense of direction out of the city, and he knew he'd stay in
the lead on the way to Dundalk.

 Mike was still numb and it surprised him. Any other little thing would have touched
off his fuse in no time but this was so close it the bone he couldn't even take it all in
at once. Annie...

 The broken glider was still on Molly's front porch and Mike remembered he had
promised to take it away for her. He took the steps two at a time, and knocked
on the door. There was no answer and he waited, knowing no sign of her car out
front didn't mean anything since it spent half its life in the shop.

 There was a sound of movement toward the side of the house, and Mike edged
along to look over the edge of the porch. Molly Kearney was smeared with dirt
and holding a bag of dead leaves.

 "I thought I heard someone pull up," she said, smiling at Kellerman.

 "Moll. I have some bad news."

 She turned away and threw the bag into a trash can lined up along the street.
"Most news is, Mikey."

 "Can we go inside?"

 "Sure." She walked up the steps with her right hand firmly on the rail. Dropping
her gloves on the metal folding table by the door, she pulled the key out of her pocket.

 Inside, the light fought to get through yellowed lace curtains. Dust settled on
assorted knickknacks and the tops of picture frames. Mike made sure to lift
his feet above the thick mottled brown carpet to avoid getting shocked by
static before he reached the kitchen.

 Molly washed her hands off in the sink. Mike sat down at the table, and
pushed aside the newspaper.

 "What is it, Mikey?" She asked as she dried her hands on a dishtowel.
"Do you need some money?"

 "No, it's about Annie."

 She sighed. "What's she done now?"

 None of the phrases he had used in his job at homicide detective sounded
clear or sincere enough.

 "Please come sit down."

 She started to turn back to him but something had caught her eye outside.
Mike stood up to go to her and saw it as well. Gharty had caught up.

 "No," she said.

 "Yeah."

 Molly slumped against the counter, and dropped down her head. Kellerman
put an arm around her shoulders.

 "What happened? How did you find out?" she asked into the sink.

 "Timing. I just happened to be in a place to hear about it."

 She turned around and kept her face at his chest. "They're not going to find
out who did this. I don't trust them."

 "Who? You mean the police?"

 "Yes. I just don't trust them any more. I see how they treated you and I want
to scream." Her eyes stayed on him as she said this.

 "Moll, that has nothing to do with anything. There are plenty of good detectives
who will try their best."

 "Like that Meldrick Lewis, who sat at this very table? I wouldn't trust that man to
find a peacock in a henhouse."

 Gharty knocked on the door.

 "I want you to find out what you can."

 "How do you want me to do that?" he asked her, lowering his voice.

 "I'll hire you. Can't I do that? You make sure they're doing all they can."

 "Moll. I don't know if I can do that."

 "Well, then why don't you just do it until someone proves you can't."

 Mike had thought about it, and having an official reason couldn't hurt, not that
not having one would have stopped him in the least. He still had a few friends
left, and if this wasn't a time to pull in favors he didn't know what was.

 Molly opened the door.

 "Hello ma'am. My name is Detective Gharty." He looked beyond her to
Kellerman. "I'm sure you know why I'm here."

 "Come in." She stepped aside to let him through, and made her way back
to the kitchen.

 He passed Kellerman, taking in every room as he went through them.
Mike followed close behind. Molly motioned toward a chair at the kitchen
table, and Gharty waited for her to seat herself. Mike leaned against the
counter, behind Molly, opposite Gharty.

 "Since you're here," she looked at both of them. "I'm guessing this didn't
look like an accident."

 "I'm afraid not," said Gharty.

 "How much are you going to tell me about it? She is my daughter, and
I think I should know everything."

 "Of course, Mrs. Kearney. We need your help throughout our investigation."
He looked shakily at Kellerman, and Mike thought he could hear the gears turning.

 "It looks as if she was strangled. There was not much of a struggle, it seems,
inside the car, and we're thinking that wasn't the scene of the attack. If you
knew where she was last night, or who with, that would help us a lot."

 Molly nearly laughed. "Any man on the streetcorner would know more about
her comings and goings than I would. She came by last week to tell me about
her new man. "Mom," she said. "I finally landed a doctor." She was always trying
to show me up with all these men. She didn't like that I never remarried, and I think
she was afraid the same thing would happen to her, ending up old and alone. But
I'm content." She smiled back at Mike, who stared at the ceiling.

 Gharty flipped over a new sheet in his notepad. "Do you know anything else
about this doctor. Did she give you a name?"

 She shook her head, "No, she was in and out of here in a flash, flipping her
new haircut around like she was a model or something."

 "Was there anyone you can think of who would want to harm your daughter?"

 "No," said Molly, with a quick glance over at Mike. "Everyone loves Annie."

 Gharty sat there another moment, silently staring at the tile. "If there is anything
else you can remember that you think would help, please give me a call." He
handed her a card. "The police," he emphasized the word, "will do everything
in our power to get the truth about who did this to your daughter."

 "I'm sure you will," replied Molly automatically, eyes still on Mike.

 Kellerman waited until Gharty was out the door then asked. "Do you mind if
I make a phone call?"

*-*-*

 As soon as Lewis put down the receiver, Munch tightened the wide circles
he had been making and swooped by the desk.

 "So...?"

 Lewis looked away. "Ain't none of your business."

 "Au contraire, in preparation for your ladyfriend's arrival I made sure we still
had that bottle of pinot in the back, polished all polishable surfaces to a
glass-like shine, and dressed in my finest in an attempt to impress, so forgive me
if I would like to hear the excuse she made for not arriving as planned Friday night."

"I haven't heard from her."

 Munch bent down, "That wasn't her? I could have sworn I heard an 'I love you"
issue forth from your lips?"

Lewis looked around for any eavesdroppers and laughed roughly. "That was my
moms. She's already planning Thanksgiving dinner and she wanted to know if
I was inviting anyone along."

 "So what did you say?"

 "If it was any of your business, and it ain't, I said no. It's not time."

 "You have over a month, it could be time by then, but you're right to keep her
away from family until the last possible moment. Nothing good ever comes from
combining duty and pleasure."

 The phone rang and Munch picked it up in one smooth motion. "Homicide."
He pulled a sheet of paper closer and wrote.

 Placing the phone down, he looked over at Lewis. "Woman shot at home in Guilford."

 "Domestic?"

 "Probably. Open and shut before kickoff."

 ***

 "I wondered where his sudden interest in football came from."

 Mike took back the photos from Mrs. Jaspersen and tapped them against the
desk to get them into one neat stack.

 "I developed them right away like you asked. Sorry I was late. I forgot to move
my clock back last night."

 "I understand. Harold bought one of these radio-controlled clocks last year,
supposedly keeps correct time to the smallest second. I didn't even notice the change."

 "I might have to get one of those." Mike said absently.

"Get me the name of a good and fast lawyer, and I'll let you have it cheap."

*-*-*

 "This place certainly looks pricey," said Meldrick.

 "Location, location, location. Five blocks away from Waverly but you'd never
know it. Convenient to shopping, businesses, attractions, schools and narcotics."

 Other official cars were blocking the drive so they parked across the street and
met an attending officer at the door.

 "Kitchen," was all he said. The two detectives nodded and passed through,
taking in details from the house. Fresh flowers, matted prints of well-known
paintings, no photographs.

People were maneuvering about the small kitchen, doing what was necessary
for them then moving out of the way. Munch took no heed of them and walked
forward, never doubting the crowd would part.

 "What have we got?" he asked to the room.

 "Thirty-eight year old female, strangled. Husband says he found her like this
when he came home."

 The view was blocked by the kitchen island as Munch bent over the body.
"Name?"

 "Um," one of the uniformed officers fumbled with a notepad. "Maria Errickson."

 Lewis stepped back into one of the techs. Munch was still peering at the twisted
scarf wrapped around the victim's neck. "Where's the husband now?"

 "He's over in the next room."

 Munch looked up for Lewis. "You want to take a look?" He stood up and to the
side, making a few notes.

 Her eyes were wide open and staring over at the wine rack installed in the side
of the island. Her hair had fallen over her right cheek and Meldrick absently reached
over to brush it back.

 "Are you through with her?" Munch asked to the attending crowd. Meldrick pulled
his hand back quickly and stood up.

 Men moved forward to lift up the body and transport it. Munch turned in the
doorframe. "Shall we to the husband?"

 The man waiting on the living room sofa was rolling a parish bulletin into a tight
spiral when the detectives entered the room. He bounced up from his seat when
he saw them.

 "Detectives?" he said, with hopeful question in his voice. He looked behind them
as the  gurney rolled past in the hall towards the door.

 Munch nodded, "Detective Munch, Detective Lewis. What do you say we go down
to the station and get your report? You really don't want to be here right now."

***

 The squadroom felt impersonal now, not all like the place Kellerman had spent so
many hours for years of his life. He had used the morning to ask around everywhere
he knew Annie could have been in the last couple of weeks. No one knew anything
about the doctor, but at the bar she liked on Thames he found out one of the bartenders
had gone in with the detectives for questioning.

Kellerman spotted Gharty walking out of the coffee room. "So?" he asked.

 Gharty looked up in confusion for a second, then coughed and looked up at Mike.
"We just let him go, but he did claim he actually saw this doctor Annie was with.
Said she introduced him as Evan. The guy described him as older, about six feet,
dark hair, glasses. Said the light was low and he couldn't tell much else."

 "Doesn't sound like much to go on, did you get any leads from her apartment?"
Kellerman had been beaten there by the cops, and without a familiar face in the
lot he was forced to go away empty-handed.

 "Might have something. We'll be sure to let you know," Gharty said with insincerity.

 Mike looked away toward the doors, "Yeah, okay. You know where to find me."

 "Actually," said Gharty. "Do you think you could stay a while and answer a few questions?"

****

 In the "box", everyone settled into place.

 "Now could you tell us what you did this morning, Mr. Errickson?" Munch leaned
against the wall, playing good cop to the hilt.

 "I drove home as soon as Mass had ended. I get a little anxious the nights Maria
stays at her sister's. I like to be home when he gets back."

 "Did your wife spend the night away from home a lot?" asked Munch.

 "Once or twice a week. Sharon's got it pretty tough, on her own with the kids and
Maria liked to help out as much as she could."

 "Sharon," Meldrick repeated. "And the kids- Peter and Keysha?"

 Errickson nodded and Munch threw Lewis look which he failed to catch, caught
up the person of Chris Errickson.

 "Did you ever offer to help with the kids? Go along with Maria on any of these trips?"

 "Sharon never liked me." He gave an effortful grin. "She didn't approve of her
only sister marrying a white guy."

 "Anyone on your side of the family feel the same way; about you marrying a
black woman?" asked Munch.

 "No one ever said anything as far as I know. I think my mother was just happy
someone was willing to put up with me."

 "And you didn't have any problems between the two of you?"

 "We were happy."

 "Did she think so?"

 Errickson looked up and over, "She never told me otherwise."

 "You didn't have any suspicions?" asked Lewis.

 Errickson looked to Munch for help. "I'm sorry, but what does this have
to do with my wife being... killed?"

 Munch turned to Lewis, saying nothing.

 "Just trying to establish the situation."

 "Would you excuse us?" said Munch, and held the door open.

 Once out in the air, "If you want to stay on this case, you're going to have
play it a little closer to the vest."

 "What are you on about?"

 Munch leaned in. "Maria, her sister, the kids... You don't think I know who this is?"

  "You wouldn't kick me off this case, Munch. I need to be in there. He did it
and I'm going to nail his ass to the wall."

 "I understand that. Do you think I have no sense of justice? We're going to catch
him in something.You want some coffee before we go back in?"

 "Nah, I'm running on something else right now," answered Lewis.

***

 In the coffee room, Gharty sat across the table from Kellerman.

 "So were you still close with your ex-wife?"

 "Enough," answered Kellerman.

 "How regularly do you think you maintained contact?"

 "I don't know. I'd be somewhere, and I'd see her. She was working over at
The Mount Washington Tavern and I'd go there every couple of weeks or so.
I didn't call her up on the phone and meet for lunch or anything."

 "When was the last time you saw her?"

 "Last Tuesday."

 "Did she ask to see you, or was it just a coincidence?"

 "We were in the same place at the same time, these things happen."

 "So it was strictly by chance you met her. And where was this?"

 "Max's."

 "Around five?"

 Kellerman nodded.

 Gharty fumbled in his pocket and came up with an appointment book.
"See we found this at Annie's apartment. See here under Tuesday?
Mike- Max's 5pm.  And you just happened to be there?"

 Kellerman cursed her in his mind. Why did you have to write that down?
"She had something she wanted to discuss."

 "What was that?"

 "She said she was getting married."

 Gharty had left the appointment book lying on the table. Mike paged through
it, as Gharty looked on. Inside the front cover, plainly written was the name
Evan and a number.

 "You did try this, didn't you?" he asked, pointing to the entry.

 "Yeah," said Gharty. "It's goes to a bakery on St. Paul. No Evan there
according to the manager."

 Something was picking at the back of Kellerman's mind, and finally it came to the front.

 "I have a meeting with a client at four. Are you going to keep me here much longer?"

 "You can go." Gharty waved his hand at the door. "We know where to find you."

 Kellerman knew the minute he left the building someone would be following him,
but it didn't seem to matter. He drove to his office, parked by the door and bounded
the steps two at a time. At his desk, he copied down the number he had read before,
then under it wrote the next highest number for each digit. It was a silly trick she had
used before, while they were still married. He couldn't remember how he had figured
it out, but she admitted to it at the time.

 No one answered the call, and the answering machine clicked on. "You have reached
the Mason residence. Please leave a message for Evan or Diane after the tone."

 A trip through the phone book and one more call to a friend with connections and he
soon had before him an address, and basic information for Dr. Evan Mason. He lived
just out of town, in Lutherville, with an office in Mercy Hospital.

 Mike got into his car and was in front of the house in twenty minutes. He parked
around the corner, and bent forward in his seat, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands,
breathing in slowly and deeply. He had to be involved, but he had no real power. He
could go in there and ask a few questions, but what compulsion did he have for this man
to tell him the truth. None, he decided and picked up the cell phone to call Gharty.

 Gharty arrived in less than five minutes, which confirmed to Kellerman that he had
indeed been followed.

 "This is his house," said Kellerman.

 "The doctor's?" asked Gharty. "How do you know?"

 Kellerman gave a dismissive shrug, and started toward the drive. Gharty caught up
and was right beside when Mike rung the doorbell.

 "Mrs. Mason?" asked Kellerman as the door opened and a middle-aged woman answered.

 "Yes?" she answered, looking the two of them over.

 "Is your husband in?" asked Gharty.

 "Why no," she answered. "He's gone for the weekend, down to Charlottesville,
to see his children."

 "Are you sure of that?" asked Mike, as Gharty was about to speak.

 "Well, I don't know for sure. I talked to him this morning, and I have no reason
not to believe him. Why? Has something happened?"

 "When did he say he was going to be back?"

  "I expect him back any moment now, actually. Would you like to come in?"

 ***

 "Sorry about that," said Munch to Chris Errickson as he and Lewis re-entered the box.

 "Now when you came into the house this morning and saw the broken door,
did you notice anything missing or out of place?"

 "I don't know. I just saw Maria. Nothing else seemed to matter."

 "Your call to the police was recorded at 11:18. The ME says she hadn't been
dead long before that. You must have just missed him, by mere minutes."

 "That makes it even worse," said Errickson. "If I had been home that much sooner,
maybe I could have stopped it."

 "Do you think the scene could have been set up?" asked Lewis.

 "How?"

 "It just didn't look right. A guy breaks in on a Sunday morning, kills the woman
in the house, and doesn't take anything. Could it have been someone she knew,
someone who came home with her, even. Are you sure she wasn't seeing someone
else? Did you really think she was at her sister's every night?"

 Munch stepped closer to head off the train of thought, but Lewis motioned him away.

 "There must have been something that clued you in. People like that, they always
give it away. You knew something was up. You must have followed her one night,
or called up Sharon to see if she was there. You look like a smart man, you wouldn't
let her make you look a fool."

 Errickson stared at Lewis, recognition dawning on his face and he smiled coldly.
"She thought I wouldn't find out, that she could use Sharon for an excuse every time.
She came in, and I knew she hadn't expected to see me. Her watch was still off by
an hour. She thought I'd be at church. I asked her where she had been and she said
that I knew she was at Sharon's but I knew she was lying. She was always lying to
me. I couldn't trust her to tell me the sky was blue."

 The two detectives stayed back and let him continue.

 "I stepped toward her and she backed away. She looked afraid of me. Of me, can
you believe that? So I kept after her. If she was going to look at me like that I was
damn well going to deserve it."

 "So you grabbed her by the neck and pulled that scarf tight around her neck?
To stop that lying voice once and for all?" said Meldrick in a near whisper.

 "Yes!" shouted Errickson. "You understand! You know exactly how I felt."

 "No, not me."

 Munch turned his head for Lewis to leave the room and he followed close behind.

 "Don't tell me what you want to tell me," Lewis said, eyes on the Board. "I know what I did."

 "Lewis..."

 "Go call Danvers. Let him take over here. I'm going home."

***

 Gharty and Kellerman sat down in the front of the house, on the edges of
stiffly upholstered matching wing-back chairs. Mrs. Mason sat across from
them on a slightly softer looking sofa.

 "When did your husband leave on this trip?" asked Gharty, making sure he
was established as the lead.

 "Friday afternoon, right from the office. He called me on the cell phone as
soon as he left town."

 "You said he was visiting his children?" Kellerman said to her.

 She turned to him with the smile of a woman who had to repeat this story
more than a few times. "Yes, he has three from his first wife. Colleen is being
confirmed this weekend. I'm not exactly welcome, so I stayed home."

 "Did you have something to do with that? The ." Kellerman again.

 "I might have inadvertently speeded up the dissolution a bit."

 "How long have you two been married?" Gharty jumped in with the next question.

 "Nearly six years now. Seems like much longer."

 "Why do you say that?"

 "Evan was starting to look around again. I held on as long as I could, but
I could tell I was on my way out."

 "You knew he had someone else? Or did you just guess?"

 "My husband is not the subtlest of men. It didn't take me long to find out
who she was. I know what she was after. How do you think I got him?
I'll be damned if I'll let someone else do that to me."

 Kellerman asked," Did you tell him you felt this way?"

 "Damn right I did. Told him this morning over the phone," she glanced
over to Gharty. "I'm not one to just stand by and let things happen to me."

 "What exactly did you tell him?" asked Gharty, inching closer to Mrs. Mason,
an eye on potential exits from the room.

 "I told him I knew what he was up to. I told him he couldn't leave me, because
I made sure he had nowhere to go. He seemed to catch on, he's quite clever,
and said he was coming right home."

There was the sound of a key in the lock and Dr. Evan Mason stood in the doorframe.

 "You didn't," he said to his wife.

 "I did," she answered simply.

 "Doctor, I think you should come along with us."

 "Yes, yes," Mason said, absently placing his bag in the hall.
"Just let me lock the door behind you."

***

 Mike Kellerman opened the door to the florist and nearly ran into the person coming out.

 "Oh man, sorry about that," he said to the bouquet of roses before him.

 The flowers lowered, and Lewis stared in surprise. "Mikey."

 "Something for your mom?" Kellerman asked.

 "No," answered Lewis. "Not this time."

 "Ahh, I see. Well, tell her hi for me."

 "Sure thing," he replied and kept walking.

 Kellerman watched him for a moment then entered the shop.
 

The author is a life-long resident of the Washington-Baltimore area, an avid Homicide viewer from the beginning, and current college student.