Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey

by Joachim, Jean C.

  “Callie! Please…talk to me,” he begged, rising out of his chair.

  “I know you’re not a killer. But when people are pushed beyond a certain point, isn’t everyone a killer? Doesn’t everyone have the potential to kill to protect their family?”

  “You think I killed Deena to protect Jason?”

  “You shot Doc and Sergeant Loomis to protect me…”

  “They threatened your life…is that what you think of me, Callie?” Mac slowly sank into a chair.

  “I don’t think you’re a killer.” Callie reached for his hand.

  “You do. You think I could have killed her.” Mac moved his hand away from hers.

  “I don’t. Please tell me what happened.”

  He got up from the table and went into the living room. Callie followed.

  “When you came home you were upset. You took a long shower…like you were washing something off. What were you washing off?”

  “I didn’t kill her, Callie, I kissed her. That’s what I was washing off.”

  “You kissed her?”

  “Several times, while she sat on my lap,” he said, his eyes flashing, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “Was that all?”

  “I touched her too,” he admitted.

  “You touched her? Where?”

  “Her breasts, where do you think? Her elbow?” he snapped.

  “Mac! I thought…I thought we agreed…”

  “You already forgave me for what I did, remember? You forgave me and I called you the world’s greatest wife. Now you think I’m a killer but you’re mad because I kissed and touched Deena in an attempt to save our family. A little inconsistent here?”

  Callie watched him pace in front of the window. Sadness crept into her heart.

  “I’m sorry, Mac. I’m being an idiot. Of course you had to do whatever you could to get the information from Deena. Forget what I said. I know you’d never kill someone.” He moved away from her, but she kept coming, cornering him, winding her arms around his waist. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. Callie kissed his bare chest. They stood at the window locked in an embrace.

  “But if you doubted me, what will the police think?” Mac said, letting her go, heading for the kitchen and a cup of coffee.

  “Dave Williams knows you’d never kill someone in cold blood.”

  “He’s the chief of police, he has to follow the evidence. Deena was part of a team or group blackmailing us. People kill for less. He’s going to have to come here and talk to me or drag me down to the station. I met Deena at The Wet Tee Shirt. The bartender saw me and during our conversation…”

  “Make out session…” Callie put in.

  “Whatever! Someone frightened Deena. That person also saw me, but I didn’t see him…or her. Perhaps it was the killer?”

  “Someone frightened Deena?”

  “Suddenly she looked scared and got off my lap,” Mac said. “The person was behind me.”

  “Did he or she say anything?”

  Mac shook his head.

  “Must have been her partner. If we could only find out who it was.”

  “You’re not going to go snooping around are you? This person is a killer. A cold blooded murderer. What makes you think he won’t kill you if you become a threat?”

  “Okay, I’ll let the police handle it,” Callie reassured him.

  “I wish I could believe you.” Mac drew her into his arms again.

  “I’m worried, Mac.” Callie hugged him.

  “As long as you believe me, then I know everything will be all right. I didn’t do anything wrong, so I have nothing to hide,” Mac said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

  “I do believe you, Mac. But we do have something to hide, blackmail.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

  * * * *

  In the afternoon on the way home from school, Jason found the glass.

  “Hey, Mom, what’s this glass on the floor?” he asked.

  Callie looked over the back seat as Jason was reaching for the glass.

  “Don’t touch!” she yelled.

  He froze.

  “Geez, Mom. You don’t have to yell.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s on it; leave it till we get home.”

  When they got home, Jason and Kitty went to play in the backyard. Callie looked at the glass and saw a lipstick stain…bright red. She never wore bright red lipstick. Then she remembered seeing Deena put on bright red lipstick in her dressing room. Perhaps this glass had something to do with Deena’s death. Callie got a plastic bag and put it over her hand when she grabbed the glass. She went inside, put the glass in the bag on the table and dialed Steve Michaels, their lawyer.

  At nine o’clock, Mac and Callie prepared for bed as usual, except it hadn’t been the usual day. Mac pulled down the bedcovers and sat down.

  “Dave Williams called today.”

  “Oh?” Callie stopped brushing her hair.

  “He wants me to go down to the station and answer a few questions.”

  Callie put the brush down and joined Mac on the bed.

  “Steve told me to bring the glass with me. This isn’t going to be pleasant. Tomorrow I’m bringing in evidence that’ll make me look guilty.”

  “Ridiculous. You didn’t do anything.” Callie rested her hand on his shoulder.

  “There might be fallout on you and the kids. Suspicions of people in a small town…it isn’t pretty. Dad should take you and the kids back to South Africa for a while.”

  “Please don’t ask me to. We’d suffer more being away from you. My love for you is blind, unconditional and forever. It doesn’t stop for road blocks or hard times.” Callie reached over and cupped his rough cheek with her palm.

  Mac bent his head over and covered his eyes with his hand.

  “Was hoping you’d say that.” He got into bed and pulled up the covers.

  She cuddled up to him and closed her eyes. They drifted into uneasy sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Coffee?” Dave asked Mac as the tall, slim man eased himself into a chair facing the policeman’s big desk in his private office in the Willow Falls station house.

  “No, thanks Dave.”

  I’d prefer a cup of arsenic if you have any.

  “Then I’ll get to the point. You were seen with Deena Johnson the day she died.”

  “That’s true. I went to see her.”

  “The bouncer there said Deena was sitting on your lap and you two were kissing. You know, Mac, I’ve always thought you and Callie had the ideal marriage.”

  “We do.”

  “Then why the hell were you kissing Deena Johnson at The Wet Tee Shirt?”

  “It’s a long story, Dave…” Mac began, his hands fiddling with a pen.

  “I remember when you were dating Callie…remember the night I interrupted you two with the dorm fire?” He chuckled.

  “How could I forget? It took me a month to…what’s your point?”

  “What were you doing with Deena, Mac?” Dave asked, opening a fresh notebook and picking up a pen.

  “It’s not what you think. Believe me, Dave. I have Callie at home, in my bed. Why would I be looking for anything else?”

  “Beats me, Mac, but plenty of guys do.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. I’m being blackmailed, Dave, and I think Deena was a part of it. I was there to get information from her and only information.”

  “I gotta know what she was blackmailing you about. Was it about you and her?”

  “There wasn’t anything between us.” Mac tried to avoid revealing the truth.

  “Then what was it?”

  “Do I have to tell you? It doesn’t concern me or Callie, Dave.”

  “Then who are you protecting? I have to know.”

  Mac knew he’d have done the same thing in Dave’s shoes so he related the whole story to Dave.

  “I was trying to get Deena to tell me who she passed the informatio
n to.”

  “And did she?”

  “She refused. At one point, toward the end of our…uh…conversation, she saw someone, recognized someone standing behind me. She became afraid and clammed up, exactly when I thought she’d spill the truth.”

  “How far were you willing to go to get the truth, Mac?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Mac. You know what I mean.”

  “Would I have slept with her? I wouldn’t have. Why do you ask?”

  “Just covering all the bases, checking to see if Callie might have had a motive…”

  “Callie! Now wait a minute…” Mac said, rising from his chair.

  “Okay, okay, calm down. Just being a cop, here. I have to ask these things, put the pieces together, even if it gets uncomfortable. I’ve known you for ten years, Mac, trust me, I’m not enjoying this any more than you are.”

  Mac remembered the glass.

  “Callie wanted me to give this to you,” Mac said, pulling out the glass encased in the plastic bag.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Jason found it in the backseat of our SUV the morning after Deena was killed. We don’t know where it came from. We don’t have any glasses like this in our house.”

  “I’ll have it analyzed.”

  “So where do I stand, Dave?” Mac’s mouth was drier than an August day in the desert.

  “That’s hard to say, Mac. Where were you the night Deena died?”

  “I was at home, making love to my wife.”

  “Can she corroborate that?” he asked, smiling.

  “Call her right now and ask,” Mac said his mouth set in a grim line, his sense of humor failing him.

  “Look, if this glass has something to do with the murder, we’ll have to talk again. I wish I could tell you you’re out of this, but I’m afraid I can’t. Please don’t leave town. I’ll call you when I get the results on the glass.”

  “And if it has something to do with the murder?”

  “Since you brought it in voluntarily, it kinda makes you look innocent. But clever people have tried to misdirect the police before…to divert suspicion and you certainly are clever. To be honest, Mac, I find it hard to believe you’d kill a fly, let alone Deena. But I have to follow the evidence,” Dave said, closing his notebook.

  “You’re not going to lock me up, are you?”

  “Goodness, no! Of course not, Mac. You’re free to go. Were you worried?” He replaced his pen in the penholder on his desk.

  “A little,” he admitted, blowing out his breath in relief.

  “We need solid evidence to lock you up. There’s no evidence against you, yet.”

  “You make it sound ominous.”

  “I don’t mean to. I want to be up front with you, since we’re friends.”

  “Thanks, Dave.” Mac stood up to go.

  “Mac, one more question…did you kill Deena?” He tried to catch Mac off guard.

  “No, of course not,” Mac said, maintaining eye contact with Dave.

  “I had to ask.”

  Mac called Callie when he got to the car.

  “So are you coming home for dinner?” she asked, chewing her lower lip.

  “Thankfully. But we’ll see what the glass says. I’m not out of the woods yet. Dave told me not to leave town.”

  “Can you come home now?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I’ve made pot roast. I figure you need a little comfort.”

  “Good, but I was figuring on a different kind of comfort tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s on the menu too…for dessert.”

  * * * *

  Alan rushed home with a batch of papers to be corrected, his first written assignment of the semester. He separated the boys’ papers from the girls’, bringing home the girls’ first. He poured a glass of red wine and settled into a comfortable armchair. This first batch should tell him who he could expect to be having sex with soon.

  At midnight, Alan took off his reading glasses and put the papers away. It was time to get to bed and dream about the bodies of the three girls who were obviously in danger of failing his course. Rex wasn’t home, which was typical. Alan turned out the light and went to sleep.

  * * * *

  Rex returned at two thirty in the morning and swiped Alan’s keys. He went to Alan’s office and checked his cameras.

  “Crap!”

  There was nothing on the cameras. He was impatient, wanting to get the goods on Alan. Rex wanted to control Alan, bend him to his will. He reset the cameras and went home to put back the keys and get some sleep.

  “I’ll get you…eventually.” He glanced toward Alan’s bedroom, then turned out the light.

  * * * *

  Marcia had given up hope of good news weeks ago; each day all she hoped for was no bad news. But it was October and Dr. Cho saw the end was near. Jay had little strength and could barely smile at her when she came into his room. Marcia got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she tried to smile and be warm and positive for his sake, even if she didn’t fool him.

  Dr. Cho pressed her about hospice.

  “Don’t wait until the last minute, Mrs. Wilton.”

  She nodded at him without hearing.

  Her sister plagued her about funeral plans, warning her when the time came, she wouldn’t be up to handling it all. Marcia made excuses, preferring to avoid the inevitable.

  Exhaustion sapped her strength on this blustery fall day. She could barely drive home.

  * * * *

  Waiting for her arrival, Jakub saw her pale face and faltering steps and hurried to the door. He arrived barely in time. Marcia put her hand on his strong forearm and her knees buckled. He carried her to the sofa.

  She was hardly able to sit up but Jakub brought in the tray of food anyway. Marcia tried to eat but after three bites, she couldn’t swallow more. With no strength left, she couldn’t move. Jakub picked her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs and put her down on the bed gently. By now, she was asleep. He couldn’t leave her dressed and on top of the covers, so he took off her shoes and socks. Then he unzipped her charcoal sweater and unbuttoned her pink blouse, removed both, folded them and put them on a chair. Sliding her black pants off was not as difficult as he thought it would be because she didn’t weigh much. She barely stirred. Jakub pulled the covers down and lifted her tenderly into the bed. He looked down at her and realized she couldn’t be comfortable wearing her bra to bed.

  He leaned over her and unhooked her bra and slid it off gently. Moonlight came in the window and rested on her thin, pale body, giving it a glow of warmth and life. He looked at her breasts, even though he knew he shouldn’t. As thin as she was, her breasts were still beautiful and her short, dark hair gleamed in the moonlight.

  She gonna know when she wake up I undress her. What she gonna think? Jakub worried about losing her good regard. He wanted her friendship, and he wanted something more, but she was married and too young for him anyway. What she want with old man like me? Nothing. Hope she not mad.

  Jakub thought how long it had been since he had made love to a woman other than Nika and wondered if he still could without fumbling and being embarrassed. He pulled the covers over Marcia to protect her from the chill in the room and tucked the quilt snugly around her small frame. He kissed her forehead then went home.

  * * * *

  Ten days later, Dr. Cho suggested Jay’s hospice care should begin on the first of November.

  “I’m sorry, Marcia. He’s running out of time.” Dr. Cho placed his hand on her forearm.

  She nodded again, not completely hearing him. The time to say a final goodbye to Jay was coming quickly. He was weaker than the week before, but he still smiled when she came in the room. They had discussed everything about their lives together, including what to do with money, his will and even a little bit about her life after.

  “Don’t die with me, Marcia,” Jay had said.

  She knew what he me
ant, but she was numb, barely living now as it was. She didn’t expect it to get any better after he was gone. She had no idea what she was going to do or when or with whom. She couldn’t face thinking about it.

  When she arrived home, Jakub was there with a warm plate of food. At first, she couldn’t look him in the eye, remembering the small pile of neatly folded clothes she found on the chair in her bedroom. He’d undressed her but here he was, not leering but helping, not coaxing her into bed, but coaxing her to eat. She’d need to be stronger next week, so she ate the food he offered.

  After dinner, she turned on the television to take in the end of a Jets game and made herself a strong drink.

  “Jets! Thank you, Marcia,” Jakub said, smiling.

  After the third drink, she passed out on the sofa, as always.

  He carried her to bed, undressed her down to her panties. Kissed her forehead and left.

  After a week of Jakub’s food and ministrations, Marcia was feeling stronger though she still had three strong drinks. She still passed out, relying on Jakub to carry her upstairs.

  But this night, when he went to pull the covers up, Marcia opened her eyes, put her arms around his neck and pulled him down, covering his mouth with hers softly in a tentative kiss. Jakub was astounded, but he responded, slowly caressing her lips with his.

  Marcia had reached her limit of being alone. She thought she’d lose her mind in bed every night by herself. Then she remembered Jakub. Strong, attractive Jakub, who took care of her, who’d seen her almost naked and had not taken advantage of her. He seemed like the perfect antidote to her bone-crushing loneliness.

  “Jakub, make love to me,” she whispered in his ear.