Chapter 35
35
“My boyfriend gave me the ring.”
Brad and Elizabeth questioned Sharon Bundy, and Mark watched on the camera. He studied her record previously and knew that the pretty blonde was twenty-six years old and had been an occupational therapist in the county for ESHH for a year. When Brad and Elizabeth went to the office to interview her, they recognized the ring on Sharon’s finger as one reported missing from the burglaries.
Now, the ring was sealed in an evidence bag and lying on the table between Sharon and the detectives.
“Ms. Bundy,” Elizabeth began. “I’d like you to take a look at this picture.” She pulled a photograph out of a file and slid it over the tabletop, placing it next to Sharon’s bagged ring. The photograph came from an insurance claim from one of the patients.
“This ring,” Elizabeth said, tapping her forefinger on the photograph, “was stolen from one of the ESHH patients.” She then tapped the evidence bag. “You say this ring was given to you by your boyfriend. And your boyfriend is Miles Markowitz, a man who works with you at the ESHH.”
“We’d like you to look at the photograph and your ring carefully,” Brad said.
Sharon leaned forward, and as her eyes gazed between the two items on the table, her shoulders slumped, and her bravado fled. Her forearms rested on the table, and she squeezed her fingers together. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you recall when he gave you the ring?”
“Of course I do. It was on the fifteenth of last month. I know because I wanted to remember that day. He said it wasn’t an engagement ring or, rather, not necessarily. He called it a promise ring. A promise that he wanted to be with me and that we’d get married sometime. I laughed and said that was what an engagement ring was for. He said he didn’t make enough money for us to start planning a wedding, yet he wanted to make sure he gave me something that showed how serious he was about me.”
By now, her voice was shaky, and not only was her confidence disappearing but from the tight-lipped expression, she realized the man she hoped to marry had likely given her a stolen ring.
A sound barked out from her, a combination of incredulous laughter and part sob. She lifted one hand and pressed her fingers against her lips as though to hold back any other sounds from being emitted. But tears welled up in her eyes, and as she blinked, they slowly slipped down her cheeks. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I can’t believe it. It’s like a bad dream.”
“Ms. Bundy,” Brad continued. “We know that each of you has access to the medical files that come in on your group cases. If a patient comes in and doesn’t need occupational therapy, you still have access to their information. Is that correct?”
It took a moment for Sharon to drag her attention from staring at the ring on the table up to Brad’s face. It took several more seconds for her to process his question. Then she nodded. “Yes. When the records come to our group, we meet, and Karen looks at what the doctors recommended. Then after she makes a home visit, the final determination is made, but that can change.”
“How so?”
Again, it took a long moment for her to process his question. The hand that had been pressed against her lips earlier now rubbed her forehead. “The doctor might recommend occupational therapy when a patient leaves rehab, but when Karen evaluates, the patient may no longer want occupational therapy. Or it wasn’t specifically recommended by a doctor, but it’s determined necessary, and once Karen gets the approval, then I can go in.”
“It’s possible that even though Miles wasn’t working with this patient, he could have had access to their address and would’ve had access to the other therapist's schedules.”
“Yes.” She nodded. By now, her shoulders were straightening as she pinned Brad and Elizabeth with a hard stare. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she let it out slowly, then said, “I don’t know how he got this ring. I don’t know anything about the burglary besides what I’ve read in the newspapers and what was discussed around the office. But Miles spends the night with me. So, if these burglaries occurred at night, he’s been with me. And without seeming rude, I can tell you he’s been with me, in my home, in my bed.”
Before the detectives could ask another question, Mark watched as John entered the interview room and handed Brad a piece of paper. Then John left and slipped into the room where Mark was watching everything on the monitor.
“We got a new development this morning,” John said.
Before he had a chance to explain, Brad looked at Sharon. “Does Miles have any relatives here on the Eastern Shore?”
Sharon jerked at the sudden change of questioning. “No, not that he’s ever said.”
“Have you ever heard the name Alan Solstein?”
Sharon’s brow lowered, and she slowly shook her head. “Never.”
“What do you know about his family?”
“I’ve never met any of his family. He said that his parents died a few years ago, and he was an only child. He grew up in Delaware, but since he doesn’t have any living relatives, we never went there.”
As Elizabeth and Brad finished their interview with Sharon, Mark turned his attention to John.
“What’s this all about?”
“Miles Markowitz and Alan Solstein are cousins.”
“No shit?” Mark said, frustrated that didn’t come up on an earlier check.
“I’ve sent deputies to pick him up, but they just reported that Miles isn’t at the ESHH, and the receptionist gave them his schedule, but he hasn’t made it to any of his appointments today.”
“Fuck… we need to find him. If Alan is still in the vicinity, he may decide to get rid of one of the people who helped him.”
“Do you think Alan and Carla are still in the area?”
With his hands planted on his hips, he shook his head. “If they’re smart, they’ve left by now.” He looked at John. “But then, smart isn’t exactly how I would describe them. And if Carla has any maternal instinct at all, she won’t go far.”
Karen once again called Laura to ensure the kids were home from school. She hated having to place the responsibility on Laura, but Karen was playing catch-up with her schedule since she’d had several days off. Starting tomorrow, she’d pick the kids up from school.
“Hey, Mom. We’re all home safe and sound.”
“Is Benji there, too?”
“Yes, he also rode the bus to our house.”
She loved that Benji wanted to spend time with Marty. “I’ll be home in a few minutes, and the pot roast in the crockpot should be ready.”
“It smells amazing. Everybody noticed it when we came in.”
“Okay. See you soon, sweetie.”
Fifteen minutes later, Karen was home, and her mind firmly on whether or not she could entice Olivia to try some broccoli. She wasn’t sure about Zannie and Marty and would leave the broccoli attempts for Benji up to Mark.
The kids were outside playing, and from the shouts and peals of laughter, they were all getting along. She glanced through the window to see Laura sitting on one of the deck chairs with a book and her phone in her hands. She wondered if she allowed Laura too much freedom to have her phone with her all the time but knew that most fourteen-year-olds did. Karen had promised that as long as Laura’s grades stayed up and she wasn’t involved in any virtual hassles, then she could keep her phone with her.
Olivia seemed to bounce between playing with the younger kids and sitting in a chair near Laura. Karen smiled, knowing how difficult the age of twelve was. Virtually a teenager yet still very much a child in some ways. Having Marty and Zannie in the house didn’t seem to faze Olivia at all. She almost relished the big sister role that she, due to order of birth, had never been able to attain.
Karen had expressed concern to Mark that if something happened and they discontinued their relationship, she didn’t want Benji to feel as though he was not part of their family.
She chuckled, remembering his response. He had reared back and glared before asking, “Are you planning on breaking up with me?”
“Of course not!”
He had stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lightly. With her still in his embrace, he’d said, “Don’t borrow trouble, Karen. You and I both know trouble can come at any time. What we have is real. We want to be together, so let the kids revel in our new relationship.”
Now, standing in her kitchen, her gaze drifted out the window, and she lifted her fingers to her lips, remembering the kiss.
She heard Benji shout, “Dad’s home!”
The kids had been playing in the backyard, but she watched as they ran out of sight to head to the front yard. Benji must have heard a vehicle pull into the driveway since he couldn’t see from where he was.
Laura stood and stretched, then caught Karen’s eyes through the window and smiled. Only four more years with her at home full-time. How will I bear having my firstborn leave the nest?
Laura walked through the back door, and just as Karen reached out to pull her oldest into a hug, she heard screaming. This was not the shout of fun and glee but the screams of terror. She raced down the short hall and through the living room, throwing open the front door.
Instead of Mark, there was an unfamiliar sedan. A woman with a black eye and split lip was in the front yard with her hand on Zannie’s arm, jerking her toward the car.
Olivia was screaming as Benji rushed to wrap his arms around Zannie, keeping the woman from dragging the little girl farther away from the house.
“No, Mom, no!” Marty yelled as he rushed forward to help Benji keep Zannie from being tugged to the car. “Go away! We don’t need you anymore!”
Bolting off the front porch, Karen looked over her shoulder and yelled back at a wide-eyed Laura. “Call 911! Call 911! Tell them Carla Perkins is at our house!” Her feet pounded against the grass as she rushed toward the side of the house where Carla still had her hands on a crying, terrified Zannie. “Stop! Let her go!”
The woman stumbled, then swung her open palm, striking Marty on the side of the head. Olivia rushed forward to help Benji, but by now, Karen had made it to the group. “Olivia, get back! Get Marty in the house!”
Olivia tried to grab Marty, but despite being hit by his mother, he held Zannie with a steadfast grip.
Seeming emboldened, Carla swung again, this time managing to catch both Olivia and Benji in her slap. Karen was already seeing red, but rage filled her from the very depths of her soul. She circled behind Carla and wrapped her arm around Carla’s skinny waist, then with all her force, tightened her grip, not caring if she broke the other woman’s ribs.
Carla grunted in pain and loosened her grip on Zannie’s arm. Benji and Marty fell back, with Zannie now between them.
“Get in the house! Get in the house!” Karen screamed. By now, Carla was twisting and fighting, but Karen’s mama-bear rage was no match for the thin, stoned woman.
Karen, in the midst of her struggles, tried to scan the area to keep track of all the children. Laura was racing out of the front door and grabbed Olivia, shoving her behind her. Benji and Marty were doing the same with Zannie.
“Get in the house! Lock the door!” she screamed again, then stumbled as Carla attempted to twist. Carla dug her fingernails into Karen’s arm, breaking the skin. Karen felt the sting but suddenly, with an adrenaline rush, tightened her grip again on Carla’s gut, and the woman started to go down to the ground.
“Let her go!”
A deep male voice rang out, and Karen prayed it was someone from the sheriff's department. But more screams from the kids had her jerk her gaze toward them to see their wide eyes before she swung Carla around and gasped.
Alan stood fifteen feet away, with a gun lifted toward her. Gasping, she was barely aware of Carla, now on the ground. Karen was filled with desperation to ensure the kids were safely indoors. Her peripheral vision allowed her to see that Laura was shoving the kids through the front door. As Laura turned and spied the weapon, she screamed, “Mom!”
“Stay in the house!” Karen yelled, praying Laura would do as she asked, knowing her oldest could best help by keeping the other kids inside. Her mind blanked on what else she could do. Alan swung his aim toward the house, but Karen’s arms jerked out to the side, her fingers widening. Waving at him, she willed him to look at her and not at the house filled with children.