The Major's Wife. Anthony Whyte

      “So you didn’t hear any shots fired—any other noise until you looked out the window?”

      “I didn’t hear anything but the commotion.”

      “You saw the commotion outside?”

      “Yes—”

      “And the doors to your husband’s car were opened on both the passenger’s side and the driver’s side?”

      “Yes, detective.”

      “And you’re telling us that you couldn’t hear any gunshots, but you heard the commotion?”

      “As soon as I glanced out the window and saw that—”

      “How close were you to the window at that time?” McAlister asked.

      “My office window is right above Main Street, and I’m able to see the street as I walked from the file cabinet’s location to my desk,” Diana said.

      “Then you just happened to glance out the window?” Detective Sharkey asked while meticulously scrutinizing Diana.

      “I was distracted from what I was doing because I saw several people milling downstairs, and they were making noise,” Diana answered firmly.

      “Then you notice that the door to your husband’s car was left opened?” Sharkey asked.

      “Yes, I saw both front doors opened. The alarm was going off…I…ah thought that my husband was in some sort of trouble. I thought he was in a fight. Maybe someone hit the SUV or something of the sort. Knowing my husband’s temper, he’s likely to swing first then ask questions later. So I ran downstairs and saw a man lying in the street by the statue…” Diana’s voice cracked with emotions. Then she wept for a moment before continuing. “I…I just thought…I didn’t know what. Oh God he was—”

      “Take your time, Dr. King,” Sharkey said.

      Detective McAlister handed Dr. King the box of Kleenex tissue. Taking a few, she dabbed at her eyes. Sharkey stared at her, his smirk stayed intact. Waiting for a few beats, allowing her to calm down, Sharkey asked, “There was a big crowd?”

      “I saw a small crowd, maybe four people. They seemed like couples.

      “Have you seen anyone before?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Did you know any of the couples? Have you seen any of them before…? At the golf course…?”

      “No, no, no, I’ve never seen any of them. I didn’t know any of the couples.”

      “Continue, Dr. King. You were downstairs and saw a crowd. What were they doing? Did any of them have a gun?”

      “I saw Vaughn…and I just reacted. I just saw Vaughn. Oh, I knew something was horribly wrong. He was lying. My husband was bleeding badly. I ran over to where he was, and there was all this blood…” Diana said.

      Her voice was straining under the emotional weight. Tears flowed, and she paused several times to wipe her face. She sat, staring at the tear-stained leaf of the notepad.

      “Then you called the police. I guess,” Sharkey said.

      His tone was shrouded in a matter-of-fact, well masked that his real intent was not immediately discernible by all watching. Sharkey felt he was close to getting the truth from the surviving spouse.

      “Someone from the crowd had already called the police.”

      “How did it make you feel?”

      “I was shocked, detective.”

      “Why?”

      “My husband was lying—he wasn’t moving, and there was a lot of blood. The sight was horrible. Just unbearable,” Diana said. Then she paused, raising her head. Her voice was cracking under the pressure of deep feelings when Diana continued. “I don’t know why anyone would want to kill my husband,” she cried.

      “Do you know anyone who may have it in for the captain? What about the men under his command or friends? A beautiful woman like yourself, Dr. King, maybe a jealous lover or a family member…?”

      “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, detective, but I don’t know anyone who would wanna hurt my husband. Vaughn was always given the highest respect and adoration by everyone he encountered,” she answered thoughtfully.

      “What about you, Diana… Maybe someone close to you…?” The seasoned detective steeled his eyes on the shaken wife, studying every detail of her reaction. “While you at the golf course, did his temper get him into an argument or a fight?” Sharkey asked.

      “No, no, no, we spent a wonderful day and planned on—”

      He was still staring at her then he said, “I mean, what about you…? Did you have any reason to have him kill or possibly—”

      “No, I wouldn’t kill my husband, detective!” Diana fired back, holding the detective’s gaze. “I don’t believe…” she started but let her voice trailed.

      “You don’t believe what, Dr. King?” Sharkey asked.

      They studied each other for a tension-filled beat. Diana green eyes locked with the seasoned blue of Sharkey’s eyes. Neither of them spoke. Then Diana broke the intense silence.

      “I—I can’t believe that you’d think I’d have my husband killed… Ah, Detective…” Diana said in an angry tone.

      “Dr. King, I’d like you to know that even the spouse becomes a suspect in a homicide like the death of your husband. Especially when that same spouse is the last one to see him alive.”

      “Okay, but I didn’t have my husband killed.”

      “I didn’t say you did. But let’s get back to what you did say. You told me that your husband had a short temper, right?”

      “Yes, I’ve seen him blown his top a few times. Especially when he’s been drinking heavily.”

      “Has this ah… Drunken rage occurred recently? Think, Dr. King.”

      “I mean something did happen a few months back at a bar, but it was no big deal. The bouncers stopped it before anything got out of hand. I mean it was nothing—”

      “It could’ve been something. Tell me exactly what happened.”

      “We were at a bar, and some man grabbed my ass as I was walking by him, and Vaughn saw it. And before you know it, he decked the guy. Then the guy’s friends started to get in, and the bouncers got between everyone before things got out of hand.”

      “What about when you left the bar? Was there any problems outside.”

      “There were no problems, really detective. The guy who grabbed my ass, apologized to us when we walked by them on our way outside.”

      “And that was the last you saw of any of these men?”

      “Yes, that was all I saw of them.”

      “So they never tried contacting you?”

      “Not at all, detective. I never heard from any of the men again.”

      “What about your husband? Did they try to contact him?”

      “He never mentioned it, but I don’t think so.”

      “How many men was there, Dr. King?”

      “Ah, I’m sure there were a lot of men there that night. I’m not sure, detective.”

      “How does it feel to have a lot of men hitting on you? I mean you’re a pretty hot looking chick, intelligent…got some amount of wealth—”

      “Oh, please stop it, detective!” Diana shouted, shaking her head. “I am not the killer, and I certainly don’t know