by Bill WENHAM
Sometimes, when Dellie was so unhappy like this, he felt like taking a wrecking ball to this place as well. But that would solve nothing. What is gone is gone and cannot be replaced, he had thought. He was well aware that his wife was unhappy but what could he do about it?
“This house just isn’t me, Dean,” she said one day. “It might be you but it definitely isn’t me. It isn’t now and it’s never likely to be. I hate it and I wish we’d never come here. What was wrong with our lives as they were? You tell me that,” she said tearfully.
“It’s not me either, Dellie,” he said. “But right now we’re stuck with it. You know as well as I do how the bottom has fallen out of the real estate market. No one would want to buy it now, and why do you think none of the other houses have been finished?”
Dellie didn’t answer but she knew why.
“Because people have reneged on their deals and the builders have gone bankrupt, Dellie, that’s why.”
“And all we’ve got either side of us is an unfinished empty shell of a house. So much for the good life surrounded by friends and neighbors in this damned place,” Dellie said angrily.
Factor put his arms around her to settle her down and was relieved to feel her tensed up body relax.
“Listen, Dellie, we don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to but we’ll lose a bundle of money if we just up and walk away. Is that what you want?”
Dellie looked up it him and managed a small smile.
“To lose a bundle of money or to walk away?” she said. “Do I have a choice?”
Factor held her tight with one hand and stroked her hair with the other.
“We could easily walk away, if that’s what you really want, because no one would give us what we paid for it in this market anyway. It would cost us, sure, but what the hell, Dellie; we both know the house itself isn’t important to us. It was just a stupid bloody status symbol, that’s all.”
He put both of his arms back around her shoulders and said, “Your happiness is far more important to me than this huge pile of bricks.”
Dellie reached up and kissed him.
“Do you really mean what you’re saying, Dean?”
“Sure I mean it, but not for a few weeks yet, honey, if you can wait that long. I want to get that Milwaukee trip out of the way first and then we can decide what we’re going to do house-wise,” he said.
“House-wise, Dean? I’d settle for a tiny bloody tent with you in it right now; I’m so sick and tired of this place, but I can wait a few weeks if I have to.”
Factor smiled and kissed her again.
One of the advantages of having multi millions in the bank was the loss of a house worth just one of those millions wasn’t really the end of the world, was it?
It was just a minor setback. Factor shrugged. What the hell, he thought. Easy come, easy go. He’d get the Milwaukee trip done and then they’d figure what to do next.
But later Factor would drunkenly agonize over the fact that, much as he had promised her to the contrary, he had put business before his wife’s peace of mind, before her health and certainly before any thoughts for her welfare.
Another thing the Milwaukee trip did was to give him too much time to think and not just about selling franchises or moving houses either.
Factor started to wonder about another of the other things that was constantly on his mind as well.
If Dellie was that bored and didn’t spend so much time with him anymore, just who the hell did she spend her time with? Once he had started on this train of thought, the seeds of jealousy, always waiting just below the surface, now began to sprout and flourish.
Factor, always a very jealous man by nature, found it very hard to understand Dellie’s easy, friendly way with everyone sometimes, and especially with Willoughby. The friendlier they were to each other, the more the demon of jealousy ate away at him.
He too was a very good looking guy, also about two hundred pounds, most of it hard muscle which he’d built up in the early days of Easy Green and he’d also managed to maintain it. He was a tad over six feet, with black hair and an easy, friendly Tom Cruise kind of smile full of white teeth.
Everything came to a head when he came back from his week long equipment acquisition trip on his own in late November 2009. It was at a Home and Garden Show in Milwaukee where he’d also promoted the franchises.
One of the first things he noticed when he came into the hallway of their luxurious home was a cell phone on the hall table that he didn’t recognize.
“Whose is this?” he asked as Dellie came out of the kitchen to welcome him home.
“Whose is what?”
“The cell phone. Whose is it?”
Dellie licked her lips.
“Er, that’s Jim’s” she said.
“So what’s it doing here?” he demanded.
“Er, he left it here last night,” she said hesitantly, knowing he’d be very angry.
“What was he doing here last night?” Dean demanded, getting angry right on cue.
Dellie looked at him for a moment before answering.
“I invited him over here for dinner,” she said.
“Alone?”
“Yes. Just the two of us.”
“And just last night?”
“No, Dean. On several nights actually.”
Factor glared at her.
“And I suppose he stayed over here on those several nights as well then, did he?” he snarled at her.
Dellie pulled herself up to her full height and held her chin high.
“Yes, Dean, as a matter of fact, he did,” she said.
“So, you two are having an affair. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Dellie looked at him coolly.
“No, Dean, that’s not what I’m telling you, but if that’s what you want to think, it’s up to you.” she said.
“What else am I supposed to think,” Factor screamed at her.
She shook her head at him.
“You could think of trusting me for starters,” she murmured.
Factor’s face was livid.
“You and him! I just knew it!” he yelled. “I’m out of here.”
Before Dellie could say anything more, he’d picked up his bag, turned and slammed out of the front door without another word to her. She just stood and watched him go. She knew it was no good trying to reason with him or to explain that she and Jim had only been working on a new Garden World expansion program. It was meant to surprise Dean when he got home.
Much as Willoughby admired Dellie and would have jumped at the chance to expand his association with her as well, his visits so far had been completely innocent. He had spent each night alone in a spare bedroom.
The door banged shut behind him as Factor threw his bag in the trunk of his Mercedes sports car and raced off down the street. Trembling with anger, he headed for the highway. After about a half hour of driving he just took an exit and found a bar.
Then he settled down to get seriously drunk.
A couple of hours later the bartender suggested tactfully that he go across the road to the motel there and sleep it off.
“You can leave your car outside here until the morning if you like, bud, and I hope you solve whatever’s bothering you.”
Factor staggered to his feet and stumbled across the road. At first the motel’s desk clerk didn’t want to take him in.
“I’m jus’ a li’l bit drunk, lady. I’m not dang’rous, y’ know,” he slurred.
“Where’s your car?” the clerk asked.
“’cross the road at the bar, ‘til mornin’. That okay?”
The clerk relented. At least the guy was smart enough not to drive and possibly kill someone as well as himself. She took his details from the wallet Factor held out to her. She charged the room to his Visa and returned his wallet to him.
Then she gave him a key and watched, shaking her head, as he staggered back out of the lobby to find his room. The other desk clerk could give
him his receipt in the morning, she thought. She just hoped he wouldn’t throw up all over the room.
Within minutes of finding and getting inside his room, Factor was sound asleep, fully clothed, on the bed.
When he awoke, it was just before four in the morning. He got up and went over to the lobby. He ran a bell on the counter but no one answered. The sleep had cleared his head a little and now he thought better of his angry and hasty departure from home. He left his room key on the counter.
His jealousy had caused him to accuse Dellie, without really giving her a chance to explain. He needed to go back and go quickly.
He walked back across the road, opened up his car door and got in. He wasn’t sure where was so he just headed back the way he’d come the previous evening. Soon he was back on the highway and heading home. On the way back, he opened the car’s window and let the cool November air clear his head further.
Long before he got to his large house, he could see an orange glow in the night sky reflecting off the low clouds. When he drove into his street, his fears were confirmed.
Instead of the house, which he’d thought at first to be the source of the fire, he could see now that it was a car in his driveway that was on fire. It was their second car, a new Cadillac sedan.
Dellie’s car!
Emergency vehicles, police, fire and an ambulance completely blocked the street. They prevented him from driving any further. Factor parked and went in the rest of the way on foot.
As he got closer he could see there was a figure in the driver’s seat inside the car in the middle of the blaze. He had no idea who it was except it was Dellie’s car and apart from the key he had on his own keychain, his Dellie had the only other one!
Chapter Five
In spite of it being four thirty in the morning, the blaze and the sirens of the emergency vehicles had garnered a sizable crowd of curious onlookers. Factor watched as the fire department got the blaze under control and eventually extinguished.
A few minutes later a flatbed tow truck showed up, ready to transport the car with its gruesome occupant to the police compound. It was pretty obvious the charred remains would not be removed from the car at the scene. An older woman with white hair was talking to one of the uniformed cops. She appeared to be part of the police contingent. The medical examiner probably, Factor thought.
After watching the proceedings for several minutes, Factor finally approached a police sergeant who appeared to be in charge.
“Stay back, sir, please,” the sergeant said.
“Sergeant, my name’s Dean Factor and that’s my car - well, my wife’s car actually.”
The cop eyed him suspiciously, noting that Factor had quite obviously been drinking.
“Is that your house as well then, sir? You live here, do you?”
Factor nodded.
“My wife should be in there. Has she come out yet?” he asked.
“No, sir. No one has come out and no one has answered the door bell to us either. A little odd, don’t you think, with a blazing car sitting right in your driveway and with all this racket going on. Looks like no one else could stay inside their houses.”
He gestured at the still gathering crowd. “If you would open it up for us, we’d like to take a look inside if you don’t mind and also speak to your wife.”
At this point a horn blew and the crowd parted to let a police unmarked drive through. It stopped and a slim, attractive white woman of about thirty five got out. Her black hair was cut in a short and sleek style. She appeared to be about 5’ 10” and was wearing a light grey pant suit with a pale violet and white striped blouse. She walked over to join Factor and the sergeant.
“What’s happening, sergeant?” she asked briskly.
“Car fire, lieutenant, with a body inside.”
“Male or female?”
“Can’t tell, ma’am. Burned to a crisp, looks like. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy for that. Doused in gasoline first, would be my guess,” the sergeant offered.
“Thank you for that, sergeant,” the woman said and turned to Factor, flashing her badge at him.
“And who are you, sir?” she asked.
“My name’s Dean Factor. I live here. That’s my wife’s car.”
The woman gave him a flat stare.
“You the garden center guy?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
She looked over at the large and imposing house.
“Were you inside when this fire started?”
Factor shook his head.
“No, I wasn’t. I left earlier last evening,” he said. “I just got back.”
The lieutenant raised her eyebrows at him.
“Funny time to be coming home, isn’t it? Where did you go?”
Factor said, “Actually, I went for a drive and ended up in a bar. I got myself thoroughly plastered and slept it off in a motel.”
The policewoman nodded.
“Sounds like a marital spat. Is that what happened?”
“Yes.”
She looked over at the house.
“Is your wife inside?” she asked.
“I don’t really know. I guess she is. She was when I left but I only just got back here.
“What made you come back right at this particular moment, sir?”
“I just woke up at the motel, realized I’d been completely unreasonable and came back home to apologize to my wife. The sergeant here says she hasn’t come out yet.”
The lieutenant glanced at the sergeant who just shrugged.
“We were just going in when you showed up, ma’am,” he said.
“Okay. It looks like the ME’s taken a look now, so I’ll take it from here, sergeant. Let them tow it now.” She walked back to her car and Factor could see that she was radioing something in. A moment or two later she returned.
“And you, sir, come with me now, please,” she said as she walked over to the double entry doors which Factor opened for her.
Even though the house was huge, it only took a matter of a few minutes to establish that no one was inside. He could tell the policewoman was impressed by the interior furnishings but she didn’t comment on it. Actually, Factor didn’t like ‘the house’ at all or their new affluence. He’d been far happier with Dellie in their little two bedroom bungalow and struggling a bit when they’d first started Easy Green.
He noted that Willoughby’s cell phone was no longer on the hall table. Maybe Dellie had called him to pick her up after he’d stormed out.
Finally, back in the hallway, the lieutenant asked. “Any idea who that could have been out in the car? Do you think it’s your wife?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know. I thought it was your job to know those things,” he said and immediately regretted it. He didn’t mean to be rude to her but he didn’t like the way this was going at all. He was now worrying, since the house was empty, whether it could be Dellie in the car.
The lieutenant opened the front door and beckoned a couple of uniforms over.
“Lock this place up for now and tape it. It could be a possible crime scene, an accident or a very, very messy suicide. We may need a search warrant later as well.”
She held out her hand, palm upward, to Factor as the flatbed tow truck pulled out of the driveway with Dellie’s car on it. It had a police cruiser ahead of it and another one behind.
Factor looked at her questioningly.
“House key, Mr. Factor. You won’t need it for a while.”
“I won’t?’
“No, sir, you won’t. So, is there anything else you’d like to tell me? I’m Liz Streeter, by the way. Liz Streeter, lieutenant, that is.”
Factor shook his head.
“Well then, let’s start off with where you were last night. Which bar was it and which motel? Have you got a receipt for your motel room?”
Factor shook his head again.
“No, I haven’t. When I left it was four o’clock this morning. No one answered the bell
at the desk. I think I’d already prepaid when I checked in so I just left the room key on the counter and came away.”
“And the name of the motel was….?”
Factor looked flustered.
“I don’t have a clue. I was just about blotto when I got there and I sure as hell wasn’t thinking of reading signs. I just wanted to get my head down for a while.”
“And the bar? Where was that?”
Factor shrugged.
“Right across the road. I walked over. Well, stumbled over probably, but I don’t know its name either. Signs tend to be a bit out of focus through the bottom of a glass.”
Streeter looked him up and down.
“I think you should come with me, Mr. Factor, until you can jog your memory a bit. Someone died tonight and very horribly too, sir, right in your own driveway and your wife is missing. Not really a good time for you to be forgetful, is it?”
Factor shook his head.
Streeter said, “I’m not arresting you, okay, Mr. Factor, although I could quite easily do so. Even now, you’re still not in a fit state to drive and you tell me you’ve already driven from somewhere else according to you. So, this is merely a request, sir. A request that you cooperate with me and sleep the balance of this off at the station. Then, later on, I’d like to ask you some more questions, okay?”
“Okay,” Factor agreed. She handed his keys to the sergeant and led him over to her car. Right now he didn’t know what to think and his brain was still way too befuddled to think rationally anyway.
“Do you want a lawyer?” Streeter asked as she started the car.
“No, ma’am. I don’t think so. Do I need one?”
Streeter shrugged.
“It’s still a little too early to tell. We’ll know more after the initial examination of the body and more still after the autopsy. I’ve called and requested that the medical examiner gets it done A.S.A.P. She has just left so she knows all about it.”
When they reached the station, Factor was shown to an empty cell, given a couple of pillows, some blankets and a mug of black coffee. He was made as comfortable as possible for the remainder of the night. He didn’t drink the coffee and was asleep in just minutes.