Tell on You

  “What? I’m not! I didn’t do anything with her. And even if I had, I’m still no pedophile,” he added indignantly. “For your information, sixteen is the age of consent in this state.”

  Melissa snorted. “Oh yeah? Even for fucking her teacher?”

  “I didn’t have sex with her!” Christ, he sounded like Bill Clinton. “Honest to god, Mel, all I did was counsel her and—and write some, uh, poetry about her, okay?” The truth might help.

  “Poetry?” Melissa sneered. “Oh, that I’ve got to see.” She wriggled her fingers. “Come on, show me.”

  “I—I deleted it.”

  “You’re a liar. A liar and an asshole.”

  “Look, I’m an idiot, I’ll grant you that,” he conceded. “But I swear I didn’t sleep with her. Whoever took those damned pictures for you got it all, Mel. Nothing happened. Nothing.” He pondered. “If something had, wouldn’t your photographer have captured the moment?”

  “My photographer?” Her eyes opened wide.

  “Well, didn’t you? Hire someone to follow me, I mean.”

  “You bastard!” Melissa yelled. “How dare you try to make me the bad guy here?”

  “Hey, spying on your partner isn’t exactly the moral high ground.” Another mistake.

  “Pack your shit and get out of here, you—you pervert!” Melissa stormed out, slamming the bedroom door.

  Shit. He kept making things worse. He resumed his packing, adding a pair of jeans and khakis to the bag, then a sweater, two shirts and some tees. He hoped he wouldn’t need more than that.

  Would he?

  He sank onto the bed as it dawned on him that his marriage might be over. As he absorbed the idea, muffled voices came through the closed bedroom door.

  Now what? Had Melissa called the police?

  Fumbling with the catch, Jeremy hastily closed the overnight bag. He threw it over his shoulder and opened the bedroom door. Now he made out the sound of Melissa crying and the voice of his mother-in-law, soothing her. He took a steadying breath and stepped into the living room.

  FORTY TWO

  IN THE LIVING ROOM, Jeremy found Melissa weeping onto her mother’s shoulder. Beth Milton shot him an outraged glare. “You animal! Ungrateful monster!”

  Ungrateful?

  Jeremy meant to offer an attempt at peacemaking, but Beth’s words brought him up short. Of course. He was supposed to be grateful, eternally in debt to his in-laws for their largesse. Their tolerance of his unworthiness.

  Well, fuck that.

  “I’ll be at the Meadowview Inn,” he snapped at Melissa, ignoring his mother-in-law. “In case you want to arrange for any additional surveillance.”

  Leaving the door open, Jeremy walked out. His wife’s sobs and her mother’s hectoring followed him downstairs.

  He drove to the Meadowview Inn and checked in. An old-style motor court, outdoor stairways connected its two floors. Jeremy toted his overnight bag up to the second floor, tossed it onto the king-sized bed and sank down beside the bag. He surveyed his temporary quarters. The wallpaper looked faded. No sofa, just a desk and swivel chair. But the place appeared clean.

  Jeremy’s indignation over his mother-in-law’s affront had subsided from a boil to a simmer. The image of Melissa sobbing on Beth’s shoulder gnawed at him now, and he pulled out his cellphone. His call went straight to Melissa’s voicemail, so he texted a peace feeler. Awaiting her response, Jeremy picked up the remote, studying the plastic sheet that listed available cable channels. Not bad. HBO and Showtime, plus a lot of sports. He’d survive a night or two.

  But the price of the room worried him, given the anemic funds available on his Visa card. Suppose Melissa went on a revenge spending spree? They’d go right over their limit. Then what? Would they throw him out? Maybe he’d find a cheaper motel over on Route 22, but it wouldn’t be as convenient for work.

  He glanced at his phone. Still no reply from Mel.

  Bravado kicked in. What the hell? If Melissa didn’t come around in a day or two, he’d move then. Meanwhile, he’d enjoy what little comfort he could squeeze out of this lousy situation.

  The thought of creature comforts made Jeremy aware of his empty stomach. Prone to emotional eating, despite his slim build, he’d skipped lunch. Dinnertime approached and he pulled his wallet from his pants pocket to take stock of his liquid assets. Enough for a pizza and a six pack.

  Still no word from Melissa.

  He scrolled through his contacts and called his regular takeout place for a large pie with sausage and mushrooms. Before hanging up, he changed his mind and switched the sausage to pepperoni. Melissa hated pepperoni, so here was an opportunity to treat himself. He scooped his car keys from the bureau and headed out to pick up some beer on the way to the pizzeria.

  The expedition took about twenty minutes, all consumed with worry. His wife, job and future—the immanent risk of losing them all. Jeremy returned to the motel with a heavy heart, a hot pizza, cold beer and a growling stomach.

  He juggled his armload of supplies, trying to slide the key card into his room door. The light flashed red and he muttered a curse. He was never any good with these damned entry cards, even with both hands free. He withdrew the card to try again.

  “If I get that for you, can I have a slice of pizza?”

  Jeremy spun around, nearly losing the pie. The key card slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

  “Nikki! What are you doing here?”

  She knelt, retrieved the card, and slid it expertly into the slot. “Back in the park, I heard your wife tell you to come here.” The light flashed green and she opened the door. “I told the guy at the desk you were my dad.” She giggled and walked into his room.

  “Nikki, wait,” Jeremy pleaded. “You can’t come in here. We could get into serious trouble.” He would. He shuddered, picturing zoom lenses zeroing in on the motel room.

  Hands on hips, Nikki smirked. “Well, we definitely will be screwed if you stand out there making a scene.” Eyes narrowed, she looked menacing. “Or I make one, in here.”

  Jeremy gulped. With a glance to either side of the door, he stepped into the room.

  At once, Nikki closed the door behind him. “Gotcha!” she chortled, advancing a step toward him.

  “Nikki—” He backed away, holding the pizza box between them.

  She reached out and lifted the lid, peering inside. “Great. Pepperoni. Let’s eat first.”

  “First?” Jeremy repeated, his voice nearly a squeak. “No! Nikki, you have to go.”

  “I wanna beer.” She yanked the six pack from under his arm and pulled off a can, dumping the rest onto the desk.

  “You’re too young to drink!” Jeremy stared in dismay as she broke off the tab and took a generous swig from the open can.

  “Mmm.” Nikki wiped a drop of beer from her chin. “How about some pizza? I’m starving.”

  Keeping his eyes on her, Jeremy warily lowered the pizza box to the desk next to the beer. His own appetite had vanished. “Just one slice, then you have to leave.”

  Helping herself to the pizza, Nikki flashed him a kittenish smile. “But why? You’re separated now, aren’t you?”

  To Jeremy’s horror, she carried the slice and beer over to the bed and perched on it. She crossed her legs, contentedly chewing pizza. She washed it down with another swallow from the can, and winked.

  “Come on over. Plenty of room.”

  Often as he’d fantasized this scenario, all Jeremy felt now was terror. A nightmare. Any minute now he’d wake up home in his own bed, preparing to go teach English Lit to a roomful of sweet, innocent kids.

  “Mr. Beee-eee…” Nikki crooned, holding the beer can between her knees. She patted the bedspread beside her.

  Jeremy snatched up a can of beer, tore off the tab and downed half in a single glug. He found his voice. “It’s—it’s been a long, difficult day, Nikki. I’m sure you can understand that I’d like some privacy right now.”

  “Awww.” Pink lip
s curled in a pout. “Don’t you love me anymore?” She took another glug of beer.

  Oh god. She must be drunk. Here he was, in a motel room with a sixteen-year-old student who might pass out on his bed any minute. Or worse, wouldn’t. His wife’s freelance photographer, the guy in the Camry, might be outside right now, filming them through the window. Any moment, the police would pound on the door, and—

  The window!

  Jeremy’s eyes shot to the open curtains. He’d neglected to close them. A sitting duck. He rushed over to pull the drapes together and spied his friend Rick, standing outside, poised to knock.

  “Oh, Mr. Beee-eee!” Nikki sang out again from the bed.

  Catching sight of Jeremy at the window, Rick waved and pointed to the door.

  FORTY THREE

  HEART THUDDING, JEREMY GAVE Rick a sickly grin through the motel window. What the hell? Did somebody post a neon sign in the lobby with directions to his room? He held up a finger, signaling his friend to wait, and closed the drapes.

  “What’s going on?” Nikki called out from the bed.

  “Shhh!” He turned from the window. “My friend is out there.”

  “What??”

  “Please!” Jeremy approached the bed. “He wants to come in. I don’t want him to see you here.”

  Nikki grinned and took another swallow of beer. “Not into sharing me, huh?”

  Insistent rapping on the door kicked Jeremy’s heart rate into the tachycardia zone. He pointed a shaky finger toward the bathroom.

  “In there. Quick!”

  When Nikki didn’t budge, he rushed over and grabbed her arm, pulling her off the bed.

  “Hey!” she protested, sloshing beer onto the bedspread.

  “Jeremy?” Rick’s voice came from outside the door, accompanied by even louder knocking. “What’s going on in there?”

  “One sec!” Jeremy propelled Nikki into the bathroom, still clutching her beer and half-eaten slice of pizza. He pointed at the toilet. “Flush!” Closed the bathroom door.

  “Be right there!” he yelled in the direction of the door. The toilet flushed and he breathed a silent thanks to Nikki. “Coming!” he called out with more conviction, undoing the button on his fly as he raced to the door. He made a show of buttoning up his pants as he let Rick into the room.

  “Fuck, man!” A scowl creased Rick’s strong features. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry. Upset stomach.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, as if he’d washed his hands.

  Rick nodded, still frowning. “I’m not surprised.” His eyes traveled to the pizza box and cans of beer. “Think that’s the best thing for your digestion?”

  “Huh?” Jeremy followed his friend’s gaze. “Oh, no. Not really.”

  “Pizza still hot?” Rick went over to the table and opened the box. “Pepperoni, huh?” He helped himself to a slice and settled into the empty chair.

  No! Don’t get comfortable. Jeremy’s stomach lurched. Any moment now he really might have to run for the bathroom. Except Nikki was in there.

  “Wha—what are you doing here?”

  “Aah, man.” Rick shook his head, chewing. “I stopped by the apartment to say goodbye on my way to the airport. Found your mother-in-law there, scraping Melissa off the walls. What the hell have you done, Jeremy?”

  “Nothing, really. Not so much.” He sighed. “What did she tell you?”

  “That she saw photos of you with some girl. One of your students, for crying out loud. Jeez, Jeremy! Are you crazy?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Jeremy’s eyes welled. Rick’s mention of the pictures reminded him he still had them. He’d taken them from Nikki and shoved them in his jacket pocket at the park, barely looking at them. He should burn the wretched things. But to what end? There’d be other copies, a digital file. They’d go viral. Ruined, and he’d brought it all on himself.

  “Hey, are you listening to me?”

  “Huh?” Jeremy looked up, realizing that Rick had been talking to him.

  “I said, how could you do that to Melissa at a time like this?”

  “I—you don’t understand, Rick. The girl, she’s a student of mine. She’s been going through a bad time. Family stuff. I—I just tried to be there for her. I guess things got a little out of hand.” Jeremy wondered how his disclaimer might go over with Nikki, there in the bathroom. “But there was no sex, I swear it.”

  “Yeah, well, Melissa’s the one you need to convince.” Rick looked at his watch. “I’d better go, or I’ll miss my flight.”

  “Right!” Sounding too eager. “I mean, yeah. Hey, thanks for stopping by, Rick. Appreciate it, man.”

  Rick stood and drew Jeremy into a hug. “You’ll sort it out. Call me.”

  Jeremy clung to his friend, moved that Rick had come to check on him. “I will.”

  Rick pulled free of the embrace, nodded at Jeremy and left. The moment the door closed, Jeremy heard the shower running in the bathroom.

  Oh, god no. She wouldn’t.

  “Nikki?”

  No reply but the sound of water. Jeremy swallowed, trying to calm down. Maybe a shower would help her sober up. He reached for his half empty beer and took a gulp. At least Nikki had waited until Rick left. It would be all right. He’d manage this.

  Loud banging on the door killed his optimism.

  “Jeremy?”

  Rick! A frisson of pure, naked terror raced up and down Jeremy’s spine. Hide! Under the bed! screamed his reptile brain.

  “Jeremy, damn it! Let me in. There’s something I forgot to tell you.”

  Jeremy stood, frozen.

  “C’mon! I’m gonna miss my plane. It’s important.”

  Breathless with fear, Jeremy went to the door, opened it a crack and peered out at Rick. “I—I was about to get in the shower.”

  Rick pushed the door open. “It’ll only take a minute.” He walked past Jeremy into the room, eying him. “You always start the shower before you take your clothes off?”

  “Umm.” Jeremy’s mind went blank. “Umm, what did you need to tell me?”

  “It’s about Melissa,” Rick said. “She wanted you to know she’s not the one who put the photographer onto you.”

  “Oh. Uh, thank you.” Before Jeremy came up with anything more to say, the sound of running water in the bathroom abruptly ceased.

  FORTY FOUR

  THE TWO MEN STARED at each other in the silent motel room, the moment surreal.

  Rick broke the silence. His head jerked toward the bathroom, and he glowered. “You bastard. She’s in there, isn’t she? She’s been here the whole time. You played me for a sucker.”

  “Rick, I—”

  “Mr. Beee-eee!” Nikki warbled from the bathroom. “Ready or not, here I come.”

  “No!” Jeremy shouted. “Nikki—”

  The bathroom door flew open. Nikki emerged, a towel wrapped around her damp, nude body. A skimpy towel.

  “Oops!” Her hand stifled a giggle. “Didn’t know we had company.”

  Rick sneered. “So this is how you’re helping her with family problems, huh?”

  “No,” Jeremy protested, “it’s not like that.”

  Nikki giggled. “Is too.”

  “And to think I stuck up for you.” Rick shook his head, lip curling. “I actually told Melissa to give you another chance. Bastard.”

  “Rick, wait! I can explain.” Jeremy took a step toward him.

  “Forget it. I’m out of here.” Rick turned to go. “Hasta la vista, pal.”

  “Bye, bye!” Nikki waggled her fingers at Rick.

  Jeremy shot her an angry glance and grabbed Rick’s left arm. “No, Rick. Don’t go like this.”

  “Let go of me, asshole!” Rick struggled to break Jeremy’s hold. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”

  Jeremy clung to his arm, determined. “Not until you let me—”

  “I said, let GO!” Rick’s right arm drew back. His fist smashed into Jeremy’s nose.

  The moment of impact explode
d across Jeremy’s senses. The sound of cracking bone mingled with Nikki’s piercing scream. Blinding white light, searing pain, a sharp metallic smell. The raw-meat tang of blood flooding his mouth.

  With an animal groan, Jeremy sank to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes and blood gushing from his broken nose.

  “Shit.” Rick rubbed his swelling hand.

  “You creep!” Nikki shrieked. “What have you done to him?”

  “Shh-shhh.” From the floor, Jeremy tried to quiet her before her cries drew outside attention. But he could scarcely breathe, much less talk. He fought down the bile rising in his throat. The pain of vomiting would be unbearable.

  “I’m going to call the police!” Nikki cried.

  “Yeah.” Rick flexed his bruised knuckles. “You do that, sweetheart.” He looked down at Jeremy, his handsome face twisted in disdain. “See ya, pal.”

  He walked out, slamming the door.

  “That louse!” Nikki knelt beside Jeremy. “God, Mr. B. I think he broke your nose. Should I call an ambulance?”

  “Nuh.” A bloody post-nasal drip made it hard to enunciate. “Nuh, don.”

  “Poor Mr. B.”

  Nikki’s hand brushed back his hair. Jeremy cupped his dripping nose.

  “Here, better take this.” Standing, she bent over and pressed a towel into his hands.

  Gratefully, Jeremy held it to his throbbing face. A moment later, he realized where that terrycloth had come from. Drawing a sharp breath that sent new waves of agony coursing through his nose, Jeremy looked up at Nikki—her slender, naked body porcelain-pale, except for petal-pink nipples, a lush shock of dark pubic hair. Beads of water from her shower still evaporated on silken skin, luminous in the lamp-lit room.

  She leered at him, breaking the spell.

  With a moan, Jeremy dragged himself across the carpet, inching a few feet away from her. Feeling faint, he leaned back against the foot of the bed and took in the sight of Nikki through half-closed eyelids. Exquisite. Heaven and hell, meeting here in this room.

  “Mr. B.” Nikki came toward him. “Jeremy…” Her voice a teenage caricature of sultry.

  “Nuh!” His hand shot up to stop her approach.