Now & Forever 3 - Blind love

by Joachim, Jean C.

  “I came to see you.” He sat down across from her.

  “Yeah? What for?”

  “How are you?” Mac lounged back in his chair when the guy behind the bar brought over their drinks.

  “How do you think? I’m still working in this dump, aren’t I?” Deena sat back in her chair. “You look good, damn good, Mac.” Her gaze traveled slowly over his body.

  “You’re looking good too,” he lied, taking a sip of his drink.

  “I’m not surprised to see you,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Your cute little wifey paid me a visit.” Deena narrowed her eyes.

  “Callie was here? She came here?”

  “But she didn’t get what she wanted, so I figured you’d come.”

  “What did she want?”

  “Beats me, Mac. Is there something wrong with her?”

  Mac heard someone moving around behind him.

  “You know what I want, Deena.” Mac rested his hand on the table.

  She put her hand on his. He laced his fingers through hers.

  “I know what I want.”

  “What’s that?” A flirtatious smile curved Mac’s lips.

  “You, baby,” Deena whispered, shooting him a heated stare and squeezing his hand. Mac laughed and squeezed her hand back.

  “Much as I’d love another…round with you, honey, do you know what’d happen to me?”

  “You’d have a great time?” She smiled, leaning over the table, flashing her cleavage at him.

  “I’d be drawn and quartered, shot dead, six feet under, babe.”

  “A real bitch, huh?”

  “The worst…the general, the old ball and chain.” Mac ignored the queasy feeling in his stomach caused by his lies.

  “Doesn’t like you playin’ around?”

  “She’s very jealous…and vindictive. God knows what she’d do to you after she got through with me,” Mac continued, praying silently for Callie’s forgiveness.

  “Too bad,” she said, giving him a wicked smile. “You still ring my chimes.” Deena licked her lips slowly.

  “I feel the same way.” He leaned in closer to her, purposely staring at her breasts.

  “So if you didn’t come here to get laid, what did you come for?” Deena asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “I need some information.” Mac stroked her hand.

  “What could I have…besides my body and my moves?”

  “You know what I’m looking for.” Mac’s eyes bored into hers.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Mac pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket. “You do, Deena. I think you met my brother, Peter.”

  “Peter? I don’t recall,” she said, stuffing the twenty between her breasts.

  “You’d remember him, he’s the best looking guy who ever came in here.”

  “Yeah? I thought you were, Mac.”

  “You flatter me,” Mac chuckled, realizing he couldn’t rush her.

  “I noticed him. So what?” She crossed her legs.

  “He came in, got drunk then told you something…about my family.” Mac struggled to control the heat of his anger smoldering beneath the surface.

  “He did? What did he tell me, Mac?” Deena got up and slipped onto Mac’s lap.

  “He told you something about my son,” Mac said, putting his arms around her.

  “What did he tell me, Mac?” She kissed him and slid her hands up his chest.

  “He told you a lie.” Mac nuzzled her neck, shutting his eyes then covering Deena’s mouth with his.

  “Oh, yeah…you still got it, Mac.”

  Mac’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “He told you Jason wasn’t my son. But he was wrong.” Mac moved his mouth to her ear lobe, then down her neck. He slipped his hand over her breast.

  “Was he?” she said, her breathing heavy, her eyes closed.

  “He was drunk and got it wrong. Jason isn’t Callie’s biological son, but he is mine.” Mac pulled back, looking into her eyes. His hand dropped to her waist.

  “Why should I care?” she asked, still breathing heavy, her eyes half-closed.

  “Who did you tell, babe?” Mac whispered, his lips sucking on her ear lobe.

  Mac heard the scraping of a chair then footsteps behind him but he paid no attention. Deena cracked her eyes open. She pushed Mac’s shoulders back and eased off his lap and back into her own chair.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mac.” Suddenly her face was a mask, a glint of fear showed in her eyes.

  “Tell me, for old times’ sake,” Mac said, stroking her hand.

  “I didn’t talk to Peter. Must have been someone else. Maybe Rita. Not me.” Deena shook her head, her eyes watching someone or something behind Mac. A look of alarm swept over her face then was gone. Mac turned around, but it was too dark for him to see. He thought there was someone lurking in the shadows behind the jukebox but he couldn’t be certain.

  “So you think you can come here and get laid, huh? You married men are all alike, always looking for something on the side. Why don’t you go home and screw the hell out of your perfect little wifey, Mac?” she spat at him.

  Mac was confused for a moment. One glance at her face told him she was afraid of something or someone. He went along.

  “Okay, Deena, if that’s the way it is. My loss…”

  “I’m not going to sleep with you, Mac. Get lost,” she announced louder than necessary, stood up and walked quickly into the back room.

  Mac left the bar and drove away. After driving around for an hour, he went home, late.

  “Late today…” Callie noted when he came through the door.

  “I need a shower,” Mac said, stripping off his shirt.

  He got in the shower and stood there trying to wash off the lies and ugliness of his encounter with Deena. He did what he had to but still came up empty. When he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth three times to get the taste of Deena out of his mouth. Then he wound a towel around his waist.

  Callie saved some beef stew for Mac, but all he asked for was scotch. She poured him a drink and he came into the living room wearing his towel. After downing the drink quickly, he poured another. She poured one and sat down next to him.

  “What happened? That’s the longest shower you’ve ever taken…alone.”

  “Why did you go see Deena?” Mac asked, ignoring her comments.

  “How did you know?” Callie raised her eyebrows.

  “She told me. I know, I know, I said I’d never see her again, but this is a different situation. Why did you see her?”

  “I wanted to find out who she gave our information to, but she wouldn’t tell me. I hope I didn’t make things worse,” Callie said, chewing on her lip.

  “You didn’t. But she was expecting me. It might have been better if I could’ve taken her by surprise.”

  “Did you find out who she told?”

  Mac turned to look at her innocent face looking up at him. Tears stung the backs of his eyes, remembering the lies he told, disparaging Callie, touching Deena and kissing her, even though he didn’t want to. Although his body was clean, he still felt dirty and deceitful.

  “Nope,” he said softly, blinking back the tears.

  “What happened?”

  “Please don’t ask me. I had to do and say things…I hope you can forgive me, Callie,” Mac said, looking down at his hands.

  “You didn’t have sex with her, did you?” Callie’s breath caught in her throat.

  He shook his head.

  “I lied and did other things…said things. Please tell me you forgive me.”

  “Of course I forgive you.” Callie put her palms up against his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. He did everything he could, short of sleeping with Deena, and still he didn’t have the truth, but when he looked into her eyes, he could tell she knew.

  “I failed.”

  “We’ll get the answers
, Mac,” she said, resting her face on his chest.

  Mac was relieved to have her in his arms, to have her forgiveness. He needed to find out who Deena was afraid of. It was nine o’clock, Mac ditched his towel and got into bed. Callie undressed and slid into the bed next to him. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, realizing he’d skirted the infidelity line pretty closely. He glanced over to see Callie studying his face.

  “Whatever it is, Mac, please let it go. We are together and nothing between us has changed. I still love you and I assume you still love me.”

  “More than ever.”

  “Please hold me. When you hold me, I know everything will be all right,” she said, snuggling up to him.

  Mac nudged her over on her back and gave her a long, sweet kiss; then he pulled her into his arms.

  “Thank you for being the world’s greatest wife.” Mac hugged her close.

  She smiled and closed her eyes. Tomorrow everything would look better.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rex was furious. Mac was stalling, then had the nerve to show up at The Wet Tee Shirt to grill Deena.

  When Deena got on Mac’s lap, Rex saw red. He moved out of the shadows, fury evident on his face. She was about to sell him down the river with the biggest sucker they had—she was sitting on Caldwell’s lap, and he was kissing her and feeling her up. And Deena was enjoying it. Rex felt doubly betrayed. He loved Deena as much as he could love anyone, but when he saw her in Caldwell’s arms, his love turned to hate.

  The bitch was out of control, her actions put him in jeopardy. Not only would he lose this juicy piece of blackmail if she opened her mouth, but he’d go to jail. Deena was threatening his very existence. Love or no love, she had to go. And soon, before Caldwell returned and tried to seduce her again, maybe successfully this time. The last piece of Rex’s heart that was still able to feel, hardened into stone.

  Rex planned his attack. Deena stammered an explanation and Rex pretended to buy it. He let her make it up to him with kisses and hugs and the promise of sex later. At the Wayside Inn, a cheap motel not far from Deena’s house, he rented a room with a window on the first floor. After dark, he climbed out the window and walked two miles through the woods behind the motel to the road leading to Deena’s place. Upon arriving at her apartment, he was sweet with her but cold fury and a sense of betrayal never left his heart. Rex made love to her as his farewell act, making sure to get his physical satisfaction in before he eliminated her.

  Pills left over from his days at The Hideaway, where selling drugs was a sideline, would do He mashed them up in the kitchen, opened a bottle of champagne and poured a glass loaded with an overdose of sleeping pills for Deena and a safe glass for himself.

  “I thought we should celebrate catching a big fish, thanks to you,” Rex said, entering the living room with the lethal brew. She smiled with relief, probably figuring he forgave her for kissing Mac.

  “Don’t we have to make a toast?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Okay, well…” She motioned for him to speak up.

  “How about to success?”

  “Yeah. To success…and love.” Deena raised her glass as Rex watched.

  He shoved his feelings for Deena out of his mind, trying to forget the taste of her lips. Even in his short time in love, it was never blind love. Now it was him or her, so she had to go. They got into bed and Deena cuddled up to him. He pulled her into his arms as she drifted off to sleep, never to wake up again. Rex dozed off for two hours. When he awoke, Deena had no pulse. He kissed her cheek.

  “So long sweetheart, sorry it didn’t work out.”

  Rex would miss Deena’s warm kisses and the screwing, but sex could be replaced. Now he had a job to do. Wearing gloves, Rex started wiping down her apartment, getting rid of his fingerprints. He took the few clothes he’d left there, packed them in a plastic bag and brought them to the curb. He spent two hours removing any trace of himself from her place.

  While cleaning up, he uncovered a small package wrapped in festive paper and tied with a ribbon. There was a card. It read,

  Happy three-month anniversary, Rex.

  Love,

  Deena

  He unwrapped it slowly. Rex couldn’t remember when he last received a gift of any kind from anyone. It must have been Christmas or his birthday when he was a boy. He opened the box to discover a man’s watch, a fine man’s watch with a French name on it. This was no cheap watch. Rex looked it over. The band was metal as was the face which told the time, the day and the month.

  He rolled it around in his hand, then couldn’t resist stretching the band and trying it on. He threw his old cheap watch into a garbage bag. The new watch looked fine on his powerful wrist. It gleamed in the light from the street lamp filtering in through the window. This must have cost Deena at least one month of her share of their blackmail money, maybe more.

  Maybe he didn’t have to kill her. Maybe she wouldn’t have talked to Caldwell. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Rex didn’t get where he was giving in to maybe. He pulled himself back to reality and recalled the way she was looking at Caldwell. Deena may have bought Rex a gift, but she would’ve slept with Caldwell, Rex could see it in her face, her eyes, the way she looked at him.

  In six months Deena would’ve figured out Rex couldn’t truly love her. It’s best she died in love. Better she be gone with hope and love, blind love, in her heart than heartbreak. Maybe I did her a favor.

  With the plastic gloves on, he took her empty champagne glass and put it in a plastic bag. He had to throw suspicion on someone else. Rex walked back to the motel and picked up his car. He drove to Deena’s and loaded the plastic bags into his trunk, while putting the murder glass under the front seat.

  At four a.m. he drove over to Mac Caldwell’s house. He saw their black SUV parked in the driveway. Rex crept quietly through the driveway to the car and opened the door gently. With the gloves still on, he placed the glass on the floor of the back seat and eased the door closed until he heard a click. At the sound of the click, two dogs started barking. Oh shit! When did they get dogs?

  Rex started to panic when he heard the dogs and made a beeline for his car, which he had left running.

  Lights went on in the Caldwell kitchen as Rex slid into the front seat. He didn’t close the door all the way, put the car in gear and slowly coasted into the shadow of a large tree and stopped, killing the engine. He lay down on the front seat, his breath coming fast. He planned this so well, but didn’t count on dogs!

  Rex heard the front door of the Caldwell house open…he held his breath until he heard it close a minute later. Rex waited, lying on the seat, listening to his heartbeat. When all was quiet on the street, he sat up, glanced around, and started the car up. He drove slowly off the street, back to Mulberry Street and Alan’s house. He smiled to himself. That’s what you get for touching my girl. He knew he’d have to abandon his blackmail scheme with Mac. If the blackmail dies with Deena, then maybe Caldwell and the police’ll think it was her and her alone. A smile of satisfaction played at his lips.

  Relieved the threat to him was over, Rex returned to Alan’s and poured himself a gin on the rocks. Sitting in the living room, looking out the window at the light rain, he knew he’d miss Deena, her body and her nice ways but she double crossed him. Everyone knows you can’t trust a double crosser. She asked for it. Before he went to sleep he remembered he could now keep the two hundred dollars he had been paying her each month. And a two hundred buck bonus for me.

  * * * *

  The next day, on Mulberry Street, nine a.m.

  Rex got more and more suspicious of Alan, who never went out at night, had no women over, yet claimed he wasn’t gay. Rex reviewed the tapes from his little spy cams of the house at night and there was nothing there. He had sort of a sixth sense about people who were up to no good, developed during his days in New York City. And Alan was one of those people.

  So if he wasn’t doing anything at home, he must be up to something in
his office. But how was he going to get in there to set up his tiny cameras?

  “I’m going to the campus bookstore this afternoon, wanna have lunch, on me?” he said.

  “Sure. What time?” Alan finished the last of his coffee.

  “How about I pick you up at one?” Rex glanced at his new watch.

  “Can you make it noon? I have a one-thirty conference with a student. I’m in One Parks Plaza, on the second floor. My name is on the directory.”

  “I’ll pick you up at noon.” Rex walked out, heading for Cozy Corner for breakfast.

  After breakfast, Rex drove to The Wet Tee Shirt and took four tiny video cameras out of his locker there and put them in the pockets of his pants. At eleven thirty he drove to the campus and looked up Alan’s office. He knocked on Alan’s door at five to twelve. Once inside Alan’s office, Rex looked around.

  “Pretty nice office you got here, Alan,” he said, scouting out spots for cameras. “Lots of bookcases.”

  “I teach English. Have to have books.”

  “And a couch too. Pretty sweet set-up.”

  Alan dropped the pen he was holding and it bounced under his desk.

  “Hmm, blinds on the door. Pretty private in here.”

  “Students like privacy. Conferences are all about confidentiality, you know.”

  “Yeah, I like privacy too,” Rex commented, slipping two small cameras on the bookcase, when Alan crawled under his desk to retrieve his pen. Rex wandered over to the window.

  “Nice view,” he said, slipping a small camera on the window sill next to some of Alan’s little sculptures.

  “It is. But it’s dark after hours as there are no houses…”

  Rex got the picture. Something was going on in this office. Whatever Alan was up to was definitely happening here…at night. Rex scouted out the perfect place for his last camera, next to Alan’s clock on his desk.

  “Where are we eating?” Rex asked.

  “How about I treat you to lunch in the faculty lounge, cousin?”

  “Thanks, Alan,” Rex said, smiling and clapping Alan on the back as the two men walked out of the office. Alan turned off the lights, and closed and locked the door.