The Major's Wife. Anthony Whyte

pest devastated the cotton farms, and farmers nearly went bankrupt. They were forced to diversify or face economic ruin. So farmers began planting peanuts, and other crops offsetting damages and recouping some of the losses,” McAlister answered.

      “So the boll weevil plague brought good results, and the town’s people honor that. Not really the insect but—” Sharkey began, but Diana interrupted.

      “The politician did it in appreciation of what the people of Enterprise thought heralded their prosperity,” she said.

      “See now… Still, it makes me wonder why this—talk about making something that’s bad into something good, huh?” Sharkey said, scrutinizing her facial expression.

      “Yes, there was a disaster, but the economy thrived. And there was more prosperity gained than had ever been achieved from just dealing with cotton alone,” Diana added.

      “Imagine that…and your office just happened to be located right next to the Monument?” Sharkey quipped.

      “Yes. And close enough to a military base. The majority of my clientele’s made up mostly of army families, wives, and dependents.”

      “So you have contact with lots of soldiers then, doctor?”

      “Diana, you can tell us all about that when you come to the station in the morning,” McAlister said.

      “I can say that I have a lot of contact with soldiers and their families, detective.”

      “Are you speaking professionally?” Sharkey asked.

      “Yes, in a professional capacity. I do see soldiers, and dependents because of the great amount of separation occurring between family and spouses—”

      “Remember, Sharkey. The U.S. is at the height of this Gulf War—” McAlister interrupted.

      “I’m aware of that—”

      “Then you’ve heard of combat—”

      “I know we’ve been at war for years,” Sharkey said.

      “No, what I was referring to is psychological injuries, like combat fatigue,” McAlister said.

      “Oh, I’m sure if that’s a problem, it would be more in public view,” Sharkey said.

      “Unfortunately, there are many side effects that aren’t very popular, or we can say politically correct to discuss,” Dr. King said.

      “What do you mean by that, Dr. King?” Sharkey asked.

      “Besides combat neurosis, many spouses are suffering from battle fatigue, and some suffer depression due to the separation caused by the war. Others have violent tendencies. I’ve been treating this population, and the numbers are drastically on the rise. So I do have to see a lot of them in a professional setting.”

      “Is there anyone who would want to use your professional relationship to crossover to say…a more personal relationship? Say a person with a violent tendency?” Sharkey asked, taking his eyes off the road for a beat.

      “Detective Sharkey, my job involves helping many military family members readjust to life after serving in a war. Of course, there’s an amount of violence, but nothing toward me personally. I also have to give testimonies in cases involving divorce, domestic violence problems. I don’t know anyone who wants to wish violence on me.”

      “I guess in your line-of-work, you see all kinds…?”

      “I see a lot of people who are having issues. This war has forced people to look at loved ones in a different light,” Diana said.

      “What do you mean in a different light?” Sharkey asked.

      “The soldiers deployed from Fort Rucker may escape death in combat, but they return with loss of limbs and…” Diana’s voice was becoming emotional. Then it trailed.

      “We can continue the discussion in the morning, if you like Diana,” McAlister quickly said.

      “Fort Rucker’s just north of town? Why did you wound up at your office on a Sunday evening?” Sharkey asked.

      “There’ll be enough time for us to question her in the morning, Sharkey,” McAlister hastily suggested.

      He was definitely against putting Dr. Diana King through the unpleasantness of the inquest. Sharkey was after information, and undaunted by the surviving spouse’s circumstances, he pursued the questioning. Even though Diana King appeared stressed, she complied.

      “It was an emergency stop. ‘A pit stop,’ Vaughn called it. We left the army post headed for the Ponderosa, and…” Diana said in a tone that was trembling uncontrollably.

      Sharkey watched her green eyes tearing up. Her tears slid down her rigid cheekbones’ firm skin and formed at her full lips’ crest. Diana was a beautiful woman, and Sharkey lost control of his thoughts when his eyes followed a tear slipping quickly between her firm breasts. He licked his lips and couldn’t help but noticed that despite the waterfall of sad emotions that flooded her mood, there was a specific vibrant, seductive energy. Keeping her under his constant scrutiny, Sharkey noted Diana King’s every reaction. He felt like her cause was sucking him in. Was it just his imagination? Sharkey lowered his voice when he wondered out loud.

      “What’s most puzzling is that whoever killed King didn’t remove the wallet, and took the chance of driving away in a very nice car—”

      His partner immediately interrupted Sharkey’s loud musing and said, “That car…now that’s a very nice ride. How much you think it cost?”

      “Shoot, Jim Bob, I can’t afford anything like that, so I’d like to guess anywhere in the hundred thousand dollars out of my range,” Sharkey laughed.

      “Yeah, I’d think like about eight-five or so. It was fully loaded,” McAlister noted.

      “Well I’ll be damn,” Sharkey whistled. “The captain must have been loaded—”

      “It cost eighty thousand dollars. My husband called it… Ah, an investment. He had it shipped from Germany,” Diana said solemnly. “It’s cheaper that way.”

      “You’re sure about that, Dr. King?”

      “Yes, Vaughn loved German cars…and you may call me Diana,” she said.

      Beneath her outpouring saddened state, Sharkey could see Diana’s beauty. She appeared shaken, but the conversation had lightened her blue eyes. Her previously paled face was slowly reddened on the sides, highlighting Diana’s sharp cheekbones. Even though he was driving, Sharkey’s eyes watched Diana King’s every twitch. The psychiatrist appeared emotionally shaken. A sudden realization of the loss of a loved one death could cause that. Sharkey thought as his reasoning took over. Feeling like he had done enough to crack her veneer, Sharkey decided to back off.

      “We’ll get to know each other better in the morning,” the seasoned detective said.

      Staring at the widow, Sharkey couldn’t stop thinking about how King wound up getting killed. Was his grieving spouse upfront in her involvement? It was tough to tell. Questions were swirling in his head, and Sharkey drove while filing them away for future use. Diana’s soft but persuasive tone interrupted his thoughts.

      “I am right over there, detective. Thank you,” Diana said, pointing to the quiet mid-sized house.

      Sharkey pulled the car to a stop, and said, “I have some more questions for you, Dr. King, but I’ll hold them until I see you in the morning. Goodnight…”

      “Goodnight, detective. And thanks for everything.”

      She got out of the car. Sharkey watched his partner hurried from the car and walked Diana to her doorsteps. She was acting weak, but her athletically petite figure seemed strong as ever. Sharkey noted while lighting up a cigarette. After spending a few minutes smoking, the detective was still lost in his thoughts when McAlister came strolling