LAW & ORDER – NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY – PART V To read the story in sequence, here is the link to PART I – IV: experiencesewing/Law%20%26%20Order%20-%20No%20Way%20to%20Treat%20a%20Lady.htm As told by Michael. Mr. Palmer looked grimly at his shattered red Corvette. He sighed. Michael was beside him. He eyed his victim. Mr. Palmer seemed more upset about his sports car than just been shot at multiple times by his wife. Not to mention, Mrs. Palmer was currently on her way to jail to be booked on felony assault. “So,” Michael began slowly. “What’s been going on here?” Mr. Palmer, disheveled, had emerged from the woods shortly after his wife had been taken away in handcuffs. His eyes remained downcast. “Can you help me here? How about walking me through what happened?” Mr. Palmer finally looked up. He drew a deep breath and said, “I’m not sure…I told her I’d be on the first ferry home in the morning from town.” Michael’s eyes bore into him. Mr. Palmer drew a deep breath and reluctantly continued. “My law office is downtown. When we moved here onto Whidbey five years ago, I rented a small apartment near my office for when I had to work late. I stay there a couple nights a week.” Michael nodded. “Anyway, I had dinner with an important client last night and was too tired to drive home, so I called Jean and let her know.” “Jean is your wife?” “Right…It was no big deal.” “So why was she shooting at you?” Mr. Palmer shrugged. Michael raised a brow. He didn’t believe him, but played along. “Okay, let’s start from when you pulled into the driveway, what happened?” “Nothing really, I got out of my car, walked up to the front door…” “Show me.” “Sure.” Mr. Palmer stepped towards the entrance. “I unlocked it and went inside.” “Where was Mrs. Palmer?” “In the bedroom.” “Asleep?” “I thought so, but…” Michael and Mr. Palmer entered the home. It was nicely furnished with upscale farmhouse décor and antiques. “Where’s the master bedroom?” Mr. Palmer pointed to the left. “I took off my shoes and tiptoed in…like this” Michael followed. Near the bedroom door, Michael paused. A hole in the hardwood floor caught his eye. He knelt. “It’s a bullet hole.” Mr. Palmer chuckled nervously. “She actually started shooting when I came into the bedroom!” Michael rose and brushed past Mr. Palmer. He entered the master bedroom and immediately spotted three more bullet holes, waist high, a foot apart in the wall opposite the king-size four-poster bed. Mr. Palmer poked his head in. “When I entered, Jean was lying on her side. She looked like she was asleep, but suddenly, as I came in, she sat up, called me a ‘lousy jerk’ and Bam! Started pulling the trigger…” Mr. Palmer paused. His eyes had darted towards the large walk-in closet. The door was ajar. Suddenly he rushed towards it. “What the…?” Michael came to his side expecting the worse, but what he saw only added to the confusion of the case. He gritted his teeth and glared at the middle-aged lawyer. “Okay, what the #!#!! is really going on here?”
Posted on: Thu, 10 Jul 2014 04:57:21 +0000
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