The next morning, Tara managed to eat a scrambled egg with a slice of toast and drink a glass of orange juice.  She was preparing to go for a walk in the woods, when the doorbell rang.  She opened the door to Sergeant Ken Olsen.

“Good morning, Mrs. Richardson.  I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I need to talk with you.”

“Please, come in.  Have you found the person responsible for Jaime’s death?”

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry, we haven’t.  We are fairly certain that it is a man we are looking for.  It appears that Mr. Richardson was hit very hard with a blunt object on the back of the head.  The object must have a sharp, pointy piece as well, as there was a puncture wound in his head as well.  I am here to see if I can find something that may fit the description of the murder weapon.”

“Oh, please, feel free to look around.”

“I also need to ask you some questions, if you have some time.”

“Of course.  I was just going to take a walk, but that can wait.”

Tara waited in the sitting room, while Sergeant Olsen looked around the desk in the den area.

“Mrs. Richardson, could I bother you for a large plastic bag?”

Tara went to the kitchen and retrieved a wastebasket bag from the cupboard.

“Will this do?”

“Yes, thank you.  You don’t mind if I take this statue to the lab for analysis, do you?”

Tara noticed that he was interested in the statue that Jaime’s father had given him years ago, a statue of a man with a rifle and a hunting dog by his side.  Jaime’s father had taken Jaime hunting when he was younger, and they had both cherished those hunting trips.  Jaime hadn’t been hunting since he had begun working at Jacobson Mergers.  He said he didn’t have the time.  His father had been disappointed the first several years that Jaime turned him down when asked about the hunting trips, but then he just stopped asking and he and Jaime had drifted apart, just like she and Jaime had drifted apart.  She had never really thought about that before.

“Mrs. Richardson, I said, do you mind if I take this statue to the lab for analysis?”

“What?  Oh, no, of course not.  I’m sorry.”

“What were you just thinking about?”

“Jaime’s father gave him that statue about seven years ago.  They used to go hunting together, but they haven’t gone in years.”

“Do Mr. Richardson’s parents live around here?  Have they been notified of his passing?”

“Oh, my, I never thought to give them a call!  They live about an hour away.  If you don’t mind, I’ll take a minute and call them now.”

“Of course.  I’ll take this statue and lock it in my police car and return to ask you some questions.”

Tara called Jaime’s parents and told them as gently as she could of the events of the past twenty-four hours.  She thought it felt more like years.  Of course, Jaime’s mother cried and his father asked if there was anything they could do for her.  She had never been very close to them, but suddenly wanted them nearby.  She asked if they could come and stay with her for a while, and Allen, Jaime’s father, promised they would be there in time for dinner.

Sergeant Olsen came back inside, and he and Tara sat at the small table in the kitchen.

“Mrs. Richardson, do you have any family living nearby?”

“No, my parents both passed away years ago.  I have one brother, but he lives halfway across the country, and I haven’t heard from him in years.  He’s ten years older than me.”

“I see.  Do you know if there is a life insurance policy on Mr. Richardson?”

“Yes.  We both have life insurance.”

“Do you know how much his policy is worth?”

“I think it’s worth $250,000.  He always said if anything happened to him, he wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t be left with any debt.”

“Do you know if Mr. Richardson had a will?”

“I know that he had a will, but I don’t know anything about it.  He insisted in meeting with an attorney and taking care of that in private.  He said that I should do the same, but I never have, because I wouldn’t have anyone to leave anything to except Jaime anyway, and now, he’s gone.  I always thought I’d get a will set up once we had a child.”

“Do you know what attorney Mr. Richardson met with to draw up his will?”

“I really don’t remember.  It was a long time ago.”

“Well, the coroner’s office is ready to release Mr. Richardson’s body for burial or cremation.  You’ll have to go to the coroner’s office to make the arrangements.”

“Would it be okay to do that tomorrow?  Jaime’s parents are driving down and will be arriving this evening.  I would really like his dad to help me with all of that.”

“Of course.  I’ll tell them to expect you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Richardson.  I’m really sorry you have to go through all of this.”

Allen and Eva Richardson arrived at Tara’s house at 6 p.m., and Tara had dinner ready for them.  She had prepared a beef roast with glazed carrots, mashed potatoes and a tossed salad.  They ate in the dining room but not much food was consumed.  Eva asked a lot of questions and sniffled in between.  Allen just listened.  It was a very somber meal, and they all retired to their bedrooms after dinner.  Allen and Eva were tired from the drive and Tara was tired from the fresh emotions of the evening.

The next morning Allen and Tara went to the coroner’s office, while Eva remained at Tara’s house.  They walked into the coroner’s office and Tara told the girl at the desk who she was and that she was there to make arrangements for her husband’s body.  The receptionist looked at her oddly and said, “Who did you say you were?”

“I’m Tara Richardson and I’m here to make arrangements for my husband’s body.  He was murdered two days ago, and I was told the coroner was ready to release his body for burial.”

“Please excuse me a moment.  I’ll be right back.”

“She seems a bit strange,” said Tara, and Allen agreed.

A few minutes later, the receptionist returned with a white-haired gentleman.

“Hello, I’m Seth Calloway, the coroner.  How can I help you?”

“Well, as I told your receptionist, I am Tara Richardson and I am here to make arrangements for my husband’s body — Jaime Richardson.”

“Do you have some kind of I.D.?”

“What?  Oh, yes, I have my driver’s license.”  Tara began searching through her bag for her wallet.  “Here.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Richardson, but there must be some mistake.  There was another woman in her earlier who said she was Mrs. Richardson, and she’s already claimed the body of Jaime Richardson.”

“What?!  What do you mean another Mrs. Richardson?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am, but there was a woman here earlier, said she was Mrs. Richardson, and Jaime Richardson’s body is no longer here.”

Tara felt her knees go weak, and then she felt an arm around her to offer support.  Allen helped her to a nearby chair and the receptionist quickly got a glass of water.  Tara took a few sips of water and felt her head clearing a little, but she was very confused and she couldn’t stop shaking.  How could there be another Mrs. Richardson?

When Tara awoke, the sun was setting.  She must have slept about three hours.  She continued to lay on the bed clutching Jaime’s shirt, trying to make some sense of things.  It was no use, though, and after a few minutes, she arose and went into her art studio once more.

She set up a blank canvas and arranged her paints and brushes.  Then she sat and closed her eyes.  After a few moments, she began to paint.  She didn’t know how long she had been painting, when the telephone rang.  “Hello?”

“Tara, are you okay?  I’ve been worrying about you since you didn’t return from your trip to Jacobson’s Mergers.”

“Oh, Katie, I’m sorry.  Yes, I’m okay.  I didn’t get anywhere at Jacobson’s Mergers and Carl called Natalie to come and take me to lunch.  She took me to Edward’s in the city, and I became annoyed because both Carl and then, Natalie, tried to tell me that I need to forget Jaime and get on with my life.”

“Forget Jaime?  They really said that — so soon?”

“No, they didn’t really say forget Jaime, but they may as well have, and Natalie made it sound like I am destitute.  She wanted to know when I was going to paint again and offered to help me hold an art exhibit at Dorian’s Gallery in the city.”

“Oh, my.  Whatever, is she thinking?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, but I was tired and annoyed and just wanted to be alone.  Oh, by the way, did you clean up over here?”

“Yes, I didn’t want you to have to worry about that with everything else.”

“Thank you, Katie.  You’re the best friend I have.  I appreciate your understanding and support.”

“You’re welcome, dear.  Will you be spending the night over there, then?”

“Yes, I think I will.  I’m okay except when I go downstairs and see the desk.  It brings back the vision of Jaime lying on the floor behind it.  I slept for about three hours when I returned from lunch, after a good cry, and believe it or not, I actually am painting.”

“Well, don’t push yourself, Tara.  Take things one day at a time and work through the emotions, don’t suppress them.  And, remember, I am right next door if you need me.  I think you should keep your doors locked too just in case . . .”

“I understand, Katie.  That’s probably a good idea.  I’ll set the alarm too.”

“Oh, good.  Oh, and Marvin will be home this evening.  His flight arrives at the airport at 6:45.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.  He’s been gone quite a while this time, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, three weeks.  It’s always longer when he goes to China.  He is helping with several adoptions from China right now.  He’s been working with about five different lovely families, who will be bringing their new children home with them tonight as well.”

“What a blessing.  It’s so wonderful that Marvin’s work is so rewarding.  I’m sure that makes it easier for you when he’s gone for so long.”

“Yes, and I am excited to see him tonight.  He says he has a surprise he wants to discuss with me and I can’t wait to find out what it is.”

“Do you think he might be ready to adopt a child or two to start your family?”

“I am afraid to think so, but I do hope so.”

“Well, have a good evening with Marvin, Katie.  I’ll speak to you again tomorrow.  I’m sure I’ll be okay tonight.”

“Okay, good night, Tara.”

“Good night.”  As Tara hung up the phone, she looked to the canvas she had been working on.  She was surprised at how well she had captured the resemblance, but what peaked her curiosity even more, was why she had felt it so pressing to paint the boy with the video game.

She set up another fresh canvas on the easel beside the painting of the boy and prepared to paint one more painting, for there was one more image she felt she needed to create before she would be ready for a break.  There was something nagging at her, and she felt these images needed to be painted before she forgot the details.

Two hours later, Katie had completed her painting of the woman, whom she had seen with the boy, talking to Carl Jacobson.

Natalie drove into the city.  She loved the expensive shops and restaurants in the city.  She took Tara to Edward’s for lunch.  Edward’s was the place for elegant dining, and everyone at Edward’s knew Natalie.  As soon as they entered, the Maitre’D greeted them and said, “Ah, Mrs. Jacobson, your favorite table is available.”

“Wonderful, Charles,” and Natalie and Tara followed Charles to a table by a large window overlooking the river that divided the city into the part of the city that Natalie loved and the part she’d never set foot in.  It was a lovely view.  The sun was shining and there were several brightly colored sailboats on the water.  Tara never came into the city on her own.  She didn’t really like the city.  She was glad that Jaime had agreed to live in the suburbs.

They were seated and Natalie ordered a glass of wine.  Tara simply ordered water with lemon.

“Oh, Tara, darling, you really should try the wine.  It’s a lovely vintage with a refreshingly light fruity taste.”

“No, thank you, Natalie.”

“Well, what shall we eat?  How about the filet mignon with crab-stuffed portabellos and a garden salad with the French vinaigrette?”

“I couldn’t possibly eat all of that.”

“I’m sure you’ll realize just how hungry you are, as soon as you taste the divine fare.”

When the waiter arrived at their table, Natalie ordered for both of them.

“What have you been painting lately?”  Natalie asked.

“The last thing I painted was a watercolor of some children playing at a park.  I finished that about a week ago.”

“Then you should start something new.  Put all of the conflicting emotions you’re feeling into a wonderful painting.  I really want to help you hold an art exhibit at Dorian’s Gallery.  You are a talented painter and should be earning money for your work.  You’ll have to do something to earn a living now.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to paint for a while, and I am not desperate for money yet.”

“You need to find something to keep you busy and keep your mind off this terrible tragedy.”

“Why is everyone so interested in keeping my mind off of my husband’s death?”  Tara was becoming distressed.

“Tara, darling, we just want what’s best for you.  The sooner you can get on with your life, the better you will feel.”

“Are you crazy?  I loved Jaime!  I was looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him and having a family!  I am lost without him and don’t know why someone murdered him!”

“I’m sorry, Tara.  I didn’t mean to upset you.  Keep your voice down and let’s enjoy our lunch.  Then I’ll take you back to Jacobson Mergers for your car.”

The rest of the lunch was spent in meaningless small talk separated by spaces of tense silence.  Tara wasn’t really hungry but she did find the food delicious.  She ate about a fourth of it.

Tara was relieved to finally get into her car and return to her own home after Natalie had dropped her at Jacobson’s Mergers.  She needed some time alone.  She was tired of everyone thinking they knew what was best for her.

Tara was surprised to see that someone had cleaned up the glass from the broken vase and set the chair upright again.  The house looked just like it always did, but she couldn’t get the image of Jaime lying on the floor behind the desk out of her mind.  She wandered aimlessly from room to room on the main floor for a while.  Then she wandered upstairs.

She’d gotten angry at Natalie for suggesting that she start a new painting, yet she felt drawn to her art studio.  She always had done her best paintings when she was feeling some strong emotions.  She wandered around her studio and then stood and looked out the window at their garden and courtyard below.  She had a big, beautiful house with a beautiful garden and courtyard and the three acres of wooded area out behind all of that, but it felt so empty without Jaime, even though he hadn’t spent much time here in the past two years.

Tara began to think over those past two years, and she realized that it was during those two years that Jaime had really grown distant from her.  She had tried to be a good wife.  She was a good cook, though Jaime hadn’t eaten much of her cooking  for quite some time.  She tried to take an interest in his work, but he never wanted to talk about it.  She had asked to tag along on some of his business trips, but he always said she’d simply be bored because he’d be in meetings all day every day.

She wondered what made things change so much.  They had been married for almost eight years.  Yes, their eighth anniversary would arrive in just three months.  For the first half of their marriage they had been so happy.  They had big dreams for their lives, but for some reason, Jaime’s dreams didn’t include children.  She thought, when she married him, that they both wanted a family.  They had talked about it many times and she was sure he’d make a wonderful father.  She just couldn’t figure out what went wrong, and now, Jaime was gone, murdered, which brought more questions:  who killed Jaime and why?

Tara went into the bedroom, picked up a shirt of Jaime’s that had been tossed on the back of a chair as he had changed clothes in a hurry, and lay down on the bed holding Jaime’s shirt close to her chest and face.  She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of his cologne and she began to cry.  Her cries turned into gut-wrenching sobs and when she couldn’t cry anymore, Tara fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Tara paced restlessly around Katie’s living room most of the morning, trying to figure out who would want to harm Jaime and what she was supposed to do now.  She felt like she needed to do something.  She couldn’t stand the waiting and not really knowing what she was waiting for.

Tara finally told Katie she was going to Jacobson Merger to see what was going on there.

Thirty minutes later, Tara walked into the reception area of Jaime’s office.  Mrs. Witters, Jaime’s receptionist was at her desk and their was a boy of about ten playing games on an electronic gadget sitting in the waiting area.

“Oh, Mrs. Richardson, I didn’t expect to see you.  I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Witters,” Tara noticed the video game noises had grown quiet.  “Can you give me some information?”

“Well, I’m not sure.  What kind of information are you looking for?”

“Who were the most recent clients that Jaime was working with?  Were there any who could be angry with him because things didn’t go the way they wanted with a business deal?”

“Mrs. Richardson, the police were here this morning asking those types of questions.  They are on top of the investigation into Mr. Richardson’s death.”

“I understand, but I don’t have any idea who would have wanted to harm my husband, and I can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.”  Tara began to cry.

Mrs. Witters offered Tara a tissue and a glass of water and led her to a chair to be seated.  Then she returned to her desk and informed someone, through the phone, that Tara Richardson was in the waiting area.  Tara noticed the young boy watching her and wondered why he seemed so interested.

Carl Jacobson suddenly entered the waiting area and approached Tara.  “Tara, dear, I’m so sorry, but you shouldn’t be here.  Can I call Natalie and have her take you to lunch or something?”

“Carl, I just want to understand what has happened.  Do you know who would do something like this to Jaime?”

“No, I really don’t, but we are giving the police department our full cooperation in this investigation.  Now, let me call Natalie.”

Carl walked to Mrs. Witters desk and picked up her phone.  In just a few seconds Tara could hear him say, “Natalie, Tara Richarson is here at the office.  Would you be a dear and come and take her to lunch?  Try and help her get her mind off of things for a while?  Thank you, love.  See you soon.”

The boy had returned to his video games, and Carl again approached Tara.  “Tara, Natalie is on her way.  She’ll take you to lunch and help take your mind off things for a while.  Why don’t you visit the powder room and freshen up?”

Tara did as requested, and when she was on her way back from the powder room, she saw a woman, with the boy who and been playing video games, speaking with Carl in hushed tones in the hallway.  She heard Carl tell her that she had nothing to worry about.  Everything would be taken care of.

She had just seated herself in the waiting area of Jaime’s office when Natalie breezed in, looking wealthy and beautiful as always.  She smiled at Tara and said, “Tara, so lovely to see you.  Let’s get out of this stuffy, old office and go somewhere beautiful for lunch, shall we?”

Tara simply arose from her seat and followed Natalie to the elevator.