Betrayal

Betrayal

Max was my friend and partner. Here I stand on what appropriately is a dark drizzly, and dismal day throwing a handful of dirt onto his casket. Forty two is much too young to die. His fourth wife Karri stood by the freshly dug grave making sobbing noises into her handkerchief trying to hide her tearless eyes. I should look to see if she's wearing track shoes, she'll want to sprint to the lawyers office to check on Max's will and life insurance right after this little get-together. I don’t know Karri well, just well enough to know she was twenty years younger than Max and she had a good time spending his money. Max and I were friends but after spending twelve hours a day working together we didn't need to socialize.
Is this what too much work and stress can do to you? Is this your reward for all that hard work, six feet of dirt piled on top of a nice looking box? No I can't let this happen to me, no more twelve hour days, I need to start to tone it down, I'm ten years older than Max, I need to enjoy whatever time I have left.
After Max's funeral Joan, my wife, and I return to our too large, too expensive home in suburbia. We need to have a discussion about our future.
"I've got to cut back or I'm going to have the same heart attack as Max". I expected my wife of ten years to agree so I was somewhat surprised when she said.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it hon, Max was fifty pounds overweight and smoked like a chimney. You're in a lot better shape and without Max the business will go under if you don't work even harder.” Harder are you kidding I thought to myself, I know Joan can appear cold at times but what the hell is she trying to get rid of me or what?
"No I’m not going to work harder, I'm going to cut back on my hours maybe hire a couple of assistants, our cash flow will slow a bit but at least you'll have me here for a very long time.”
"Your right hon, whatever you want, of course I want you to live forever." she got up and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek.
A couple of days later I am standing in the hallway of my million dollar home calling out to a wife who's not answering. The first day of my new lease on life and no-ones here to greet me, where could she be, she doesn't work? Maybe she's out shopping, she does that quite well.
I'm home early now and I don't know what to do. I turn the TV on; maybe there’s a good murder on. I'm addicted to the Murder Channel; it is probably my only hobby. No golf, no stamp collecting, and no gardening just give me a good complicated killing and I'm a happy camper. Just as I'm getting into a case about a man killing his cheating wife I hear Joan coming through the front door.
"Your home already?" it sounds more like an accusation than a question.
"Yes I figured I'd leave a little early and enjoy some time with my beautiful wife. Were you out shopping?" I notice she doesn't have any bags or boxes.
She kind of stutters for a second and says" I went to Lord and Taylor with Veronica you wouldn't believe how much money that woman can spend."
"If I remember correctly you don't do half bad yourself'"
"You should be proud I didn't buy a thing." she seems a little nervous and looks a little disheveled.
"Oh by the way do you intend on just coming home and watching television with all that new free time off you are giving yourself. “ I have the feeling Joan’s trying to change the subject and upset that I'm home asking questions about where she was.
"That the best thing about time off I can pretty much do whatever I want. Right now I feel like sitting in this big overstuffed recliner watching TV."
"You don't intend on doing this all the time do you." what the hell is going on why doesn't Joan want me home.
"I don't know dear, maybe some days I will, some days I won't."
"You can at least call; let me know what you're doing."
"Sure no problem." Why does she want to know when I'll be home. Disturbing thoughts begin to run through this little brain of mine. Where was she? I don't buy The Lord and Taylor bull. No, she couldn't be seeing another man, could she? No not Joan, the love of my life, she wouldn't do that to me would she?
Maybe I should call Veronica and ask her if she knew where Joan was. No that wouldn't work, Veronica would just tell Joan I was looking for her. I turn my attention to the TV just in time to see the husband of the cheating wife shoot the hell out of her and her boyfriend. An omen, I hope not.
Is Joan cheating on me? I’ve never even considered it before, never had reason too." Have I been blind, maybe too focused on work? My stomach is doing flip flops and my hands are sweating. Maybe I'm just imagining it, but my stomach doesn't usually lie. How can I find out? I have to know, I need to know. I can't let her know I suspect a thing. If my suspicions are wrong she will never forgive me, if my suspicions are true I will never forgive her.
The plan, if you want to call it a plan is to start doing some light surveillance. Luckily our too expensive home doesn't have a garage. Who knows why there's no garage? We never got around to having one built. So either Joan's Lexus was parked in our driveway or she was out.
I got up from my desk and told my new assistant I'd be back in about an hour.
"If my wife happens to call, tell her I had a meeting over in the Department of Public Works."
“I’m sorry sir, I wasn't aware you had a meeting." George my new assistant says.
"Well George it might come as a complete surprise to you but I don't tell you everything. If I think you need to know something I will tell you." I might as well set boundaries for George right away.
"Sorry sir"
"Don't be sorry George; just tell the wife if she calls."
"Ok sir".
I get in my brand new jet black Caddy and take the fifteen minute drive to my previously happy home. I didn't think this through, what if she happened to be looking out the window as I drove past. Would she ask for an explanation, there aren't too many Caddies around here and our street has very little traffic?
As I approach the house I see I worried for nothing, no Lexus in the driveway, I look at my watch 10:15 AM and no Joan. At one that afternoon I attempt the same maneuver, this time telling George "I'm going to lunch” George just nods.
I call Joan on her cell phone at three thirty to tell her I'll be home at five. We had given up our land line phone years ago, no-one ever used it, and we both had the latest and greatest iPhone so communication was never a problem. I never have to answer the house phone when people were looking for Joan and visa-versa. Come to think of it that might not have been such a great idea after all.
I make my last run to the house at about four and I luck out when I see Joan pulling into the driveway in time for me to pull over without any chance of her seeing me. I pull in the driveway a couple of minutes after five and enter the house to find Joan in the kitchen preparing dinner.
"Hey hon, how was your day?" she asks kissing on the cheek.
'Good how was yours, do anything exciting.”
"No just hung around, did some work in the garden? Is chicken ok for dinner?"
"Fine, did you and Veronica hit Lord and Taylor again."
"No I told you I just hung around here". She is getting annoyed.
Well don't get too annoyed I thought, you just lied to my face. I can feel the anger beginning to rise from some deep recess of my soul. Stay calm, stay cool, I tell myself don't let her know you know she's lying. Wait, find out what's going on before you act. I tell myself that over and over again.
Maybe she's not cheating. What else would make her lie to me? Think, think, the more I think about it only cheating makes sense. I know it in my heart but I still need proof. I'm about as low as I've ever been in my life. Last week my best friend drops dead and now this, what's left, what do I have to live for? I head to what feels like my only friend in the world, my overstuffed recliner. A few minutes later Joan smiling face appears at the den door to tell me "Dinner will be ready in about an hour hon."
"Thanks" what else can I say.
I spend a miserable evening trying to keep up the facade of wedded bliss. Bedtime is even worse, tossing and turning, I got only a couple of hours sleep. At five I got up showered, shaved and headed for Starbucks. I got to the office around six, sat at my desk, and thought about how to get proof of Joan's cheating. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought that this was going to turn out ok. Some explanation would miraculously appear and all would be right with my world. Fat chance, the bitch is cheating on me and after I know who, what, and where she will pay a heavy price.
Maybe a private detective could help? I don’t think I know anyone who’s ever used one. Most on TV seem to be pretty much low-life types. Then again most television lawyers are honest stand up people, not the scum of the earth, greedy, dishonest, anything for a buck low-lifes they are. No, I want to keep this to myself for now. I’ll just keep doing my surveillance for a while longer, see what pops up.
It took a couple of weeks of driving by the house to find Joan’s schedule. Some days the car stays parked in the driveway, if the car is there in the morning most of the time it stays there. Tuesdays and Thursdays she’s gone from about noontime and returns sometime in the late afternoon. I bought a pair of cheap binoculars and found the perfect spot in the parking lot of the park behind our house to see Joan’s comings and goings. Most days when she returns she has bags or boxes from a shopping trip. Tuesday and Thursday nothing, she just gets out of the Lexus empty handed. Am I really getting this excited about catching my wife cheating, I wake up in the morning with my battle plan for the day and go to sleep making up the strategy for the next days operations. I don’t care about anything else, I don’t eat, sleep or work, I’m totally consumed. I will find the truth.
I decide I have to follow her on either Tuesday or Thursday. I need a car to do it; my Caddy is just too identifiable. I could just rent one, get something nondescript. After much soul searching I decide Tuesday will be the day. Bright and early Tuesday morning I head to the airport to rent a car. I drive out of the Hertz lot with a dark blue Chevy sedan of some kind. I’m doing great so far, this car will not stand out at all. I’m across the street by noon with Joan’s Lexus still in the drive.
She exits the house within minutes of my arrival, gets in the car, checks her makeup in the rearview mirror and takes off. I’m close behind her; I have a big white floppy fishing hat and extra-large sunglasses on. Even if she looks at the vehicle behind her all she’ll see is a douchebag in a dark ugly car.
The trip takes only a few minutes and Joan pulls into a drive way of a house that looks a lot like ours, only it has a garage. I don’t know this house, I don’t remember ever being on this street before. It looks like every other street around here in yuppie land, tree lined, expensive cars in the driveways, and manicured lawns.
Joan exits the car and enters the home, she didn’t knock or ring the doorbell just walked right in like she owned the place. There is no name on the mailbox out by the street, only the number 1432. I’ll check the street name on my way out of here. I can’t just go knock on the door can I? I want to in the worst way, will that accomplish anything, might make me feel better for a short time
The street name is Sunset Avenue, how cute. I drive to the office and do some Internet research for 1432 Sunset Avenue. The owners name turns out to Lars Milton, what kind of name is that? I don’t know the name; I would remember a name like that. Who is Mr. Milton? Is he married and cheating on his wife? I have too many questions and I’m sick of playing this game. Time to confront Joan, enough is enough, if she has a legit excuse great, I still hold on to that thread, if not she’s out on her ass. She’ll bleed me dry but I won’t be made a fool of.
I go home and wait. As I wait I get angrier and angrier, why do I have to do this, maybe I should just forget the whole thing and go on as we did before. I can’t do it, no-one makes a fool of me, ever.
Joan returns around four and I’ve had a couple of Scotches to lighten the mood. As she enters the front door I attack.
“Where the hell you been Joan?” I ask in my most menacing voice.
“What, what is wrong with you Steve?”
“What’s wrong with me you slut , you’re out screwing half the neighborhood and you want to know what’s wrong with me?”
“You’re crazy, what are you talking about?”
“I’ve been following you, who is Lars Milton?”
No answer but Joan’s tears begin to flow, did I go too far, I just want the truth.
“Just give me the truth Joan, just tell me who Lars Milton is, is he your lover, is that what you’ve been doing Tuesdays and Thursdays?”
“No, nothing like that, Lars is a friend of Veronica, he’s a psychiatrist. I’ve been going to him for a couple of weeks now, I see him at his house it’s so much easier than going downtown to his office.”
“Bull Joan why do you need a shrink all of a sudden, you seem alright to me.”
“You wouldn’t notice Steve, that’s the problem. You don’t notice anything about me do you?”
“I notice plenty, how do you think I found out about you and Lars. Don’t ever play me for a fool Joan?”
“If you know so much you self satisfied twit, tell me why I need to see a shrink all of a sudden. What recent event would mess my mind up so much that I would have to seek help? Go ahead genius tell me.”
I can’t think of anything. What did I miss? She’s been a little strange since Larry died. Joan hardly knew Larry that couldn’t be it, nothing else I could think of. The blank look on my face told Joan I had no idea so she told me.
“Are you that blind, that self satisfied that you didn’t know I’ve been screwing Larry for years and enjoying every minute of it. How else could I have gotten through all these year with you.”
“So you and Larry were screwing behind my back, I don’t believe it, Larry had a gorgeous young wife at home what did he need an old hag like you for?”
“We loved each other that’s why, something you just wouldn’t understand. I wanted to divorce you years ago but Larry wouldn’t let me. He felt sorry for you, said I was all you had and he couldn’t do that to his best friend.”
“So screwing around behind my back was better, I’ll tell you when I thought you were sleeping with old Lars I came up with a plan to take you both out. Why do you think I watch TV murders all the time ? Not for enjoyment but for education. I thought I would have to kill both of you and get rid of two bodies; you just cut my task in half. “
“What are you talking about, you don’t have the guts? Put that stupid gun away, you’re not scaring me Steve, put the gun down now.”
“Nah I don’t think so. Do you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do? Maybe you should be scared, I am not going to drag this thing out and get a divorce so you take half of what I busted my ass for. No not going to happen, I’m going to collect that insurance money and live happily ever after without you. Now let’s get in the car I have a great spot picked out for this momentous occasion.”
So it went, I don’t need to get into the gory details, I didn’t need to shoot her, but my wife disappeared and I played the worried spouse until a couple of hikers found Joan’s badly decomposed and crumpled body at the bottom of Mt. Stevens. The death was ruled an accident by the medical examiner, what choice did he have. I collected my two million in insurance and will hopefully live happily ever after.

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