"Darling?" she called out, her voice muffled by the pillow, her hand heavily patting around the other side of the bed. She listened momentarily and heard the shower. "Mmmm," she murmured as her half-asleep mind provided her with answers as she drifted back to sleep.
When she woke up again she lifted her head just enough to see over the books crowding her alarm clock on the night stand. It had only been 15 minutes. She flopped back down. Her alarm would go off in five minutes. "Ugh," she moaned as she got up and pulled on her robe. "Darling, what are you doing in there? Did you leave me any hot water?" she asked as she shuffled into the bathroom. "I had the weirdest dream..." she trailed off as anomalies started clicking into place in her sleepy mind. Her hand began to tremble as she reached for the shower curtain. "Darling?" she asked, a quiver in her voice betraying the fear puddling in the pit of her stomach. She pulled back the curtain and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.
The insistent beeping of his alarm annoyed Inspector Lewis and he smacked his hand down on the alarm clock with all the force he could muster. He got up quickly and quietly, a habit formed decades ago to hopefully allow his wife to continue sleeping when he was called out at all hours. Lewis trudged down to the kitchen to set the kettle on as Monty meowed imperiously at him.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming," he told the cat testily as he pulled out the cat food and poured Monty his breakfast. Lewis had settled down with a cup of coffee and the paper when his cell phone rang. "Blast," he cursed quietly at it, knowing his morning was interrupted for good when he saw it was Hathaway. "Lewis," he said into the phone, resignation in his voice.
"Good morning, sir," Hathaway's serious voice greeted him.
"Morning. What's up?"
"There's been a suspicious death, a Mr. Sharpe." Lewis slowly dragged his hand over his face as Hathaway gave him directions to the crime scene.
"Right," Lewis said, "I'll be there as quick as I can. Hobson there yet?"
"Yes, sir, they're setting up shop now."
"Alright. See you shortly."
The forensics team was bustling about in their usual manner as Lewis pulled up to the crime scene. Lewis noted it was a detached house with a rather nice garden that was partway in bloom. So, these people have, or had, some money, and cared about appearances. Hathaway came briskly over as Lewis pulled himself up out of the car. .
When she woke up again she lifted her head just enough to see over the books crowding her alarm clock on the night stand. It had only been 15 minutes. She flopped back down. Her alarm would go off in five minutes. "Ugh," she moaned as she got up and pulled on her robe. "Darling, what are you doing in there? Did you leave me any hot water?" she asked as she shuffled into the bathroom. "I had the weirdest dream..." she trailed off as anomalies started clicking into place in her sleepy mind. Her hand began to tremble as she reached for the shower curtain. "Darling?" she asked, a quiver in her voice betraying the fear puddling in the pit of her stomach. She pulled back the curtain and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.
The insistent beeping of his alarm annoyed Inspector Lewis and he smacked his hand down on the alarm clock with all the force he could muster. He got up quickly and quietly, a habit formed decades ago to hopefully allow his wife to continue sleeping when he was called out at all hours. Lewis trudged down to the kitchen to set the kettle on as Monty meowed imperiously at him.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming," he told the cat testily as he pulled out the cat food and poured Monty his breakfast. Lewis had settled down with a cup of coffee and the paper when his cell phone rang. "Blast," he cursed quietly at it, knowing his morning was interrupted for good when he saw it was Hathaway. "Lewis," he said into the phone, resignation in his voice.
"Good morning, sir," Hathaway's serious voice greeted him.
"Morning. What's up?"
"There's been a suspicious death, a Mr. Sharpe." Lewis slowly dragged his hand over his face as Hathaway gave him directions to the crime scene.
"Right," Lewis said, "I'll be there as quick as I can. Hobson there yet?"
"Yes, sir, they're setting up shop now."
"Alright. See you shortly."
The forensics team was bustling about in their usual manner as Lewis pulled up to the crime scene. Lewis noted it was a detached house with a rather nice garden that was partway in bloom. So, these people have, or had, some money, and cared about appearances. Hathaway came briskly over as Lewis pulled himself up out of the car. .
