Sam started the engine. “Actually, I was.”
Roger gaped at him. “No shit?”
Sam peered over at him and said, “You seem surprised-I’m not a fucking monk, you know!”
“You haven’t exactly been Joe Stud, either. So who, may I ask, was this babe? She must really be a fox to be able to get you to break down your self-imposed post-divorce virginity, I’d think.”
Sam backed out of the parking spot and onto the street.
“Ironically, the same fox who got me there in the first place,” he said.
“You’re shitting me! Shelley Hatcher?”
“The one and only,” was Sam’s reply.
“This, I’ve got to hear,” Roger stated with relish.
“Not much to say, really. Shelley dropped by the house last night at around two in the morning and said that she wanted to show me her portfolio. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the floor. That’s about the extent of it.”
“Whoa, I’m stunned!”
“Gotta admit that I’m a little surprised myself. Besides the craziness of the whole thing, I actually enjoyed every minute of it.”
“Hell, who wouldn’t? Shelley Hatcher is a fucking knockout!”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Sam said. “I meant that I actually don’t have any regrets that it happened. No guilt-you know-Ann and all?”
“What’s there to be guilty about, for chrissakes? You aren’t married to Ann anymore. You’re free as a fucking bird. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you didn’t do anything wrong in the first place, you lucky son of a bitch. There just might be some hope for you yet!”
His friend’s encouragement was infectious. A grin came to his face as Sam said, “Well, I don’t exactly feel like going out and shooting myself, that’s for sure. Shelley Hatcher is actually a pretty decent girl-has a good head on her shoulders for a twenty-year-old living in this fucked up generation. Maybe I feel like I should feel guilty more for what Shelley Hatcher is: the girl who broke up my marriage.”
“Fuck that! That’s all water under the bridge, man!”
“I realize that; but at the same time I’m trying to look at it from Ann’s point of view. She’d shit a golden brick if she ever found out.”
“You worry too much, buddy. First of all, how in the hell could she find out? She’s a hundred miles away! And second of all, how do you know that Ann isn’t playing the field herself nowadays? Hell, maybe she’s actually decided to get on with life instead of living day to day in the past like your sorry ass has been doing. Ever think about that?”
Actually, he hadn’t. Ann had spoken very little about her personal life since moving to Columbus, he now realized. And he hadn’t exactly been pumping her for information in that regard either; probably because he knew that if Ann actually was going out with someone, he wouldn’t particularly want to know about it.
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” he told his friend. “Ann could be fooling around with someone and I no doubt would be the last one in the world to know about it.”
“So there you are. My advice is to quit worrying so goddamn much and stop and smell the coffee once in a while. Go for it! Enjoy yourself for a change!”
“You’re right, and I know you’re right. I guess I just feel a little weirded-out, that’s all.”
“Because you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a good time.”
“I reckon so,” Sam confessed.
“Is Shelley still at your place?”
“Yeah. Her car’s stuck in a drainage ditch in my driveway. Why?”
“Because if I were you, I’d keep her there for a while, if she’s willing. Get back on the track and leave the past behind while you’ve got the chance. Jesus, Sam! If I had that chick hanging around my doorstep, I sure as hell wouldn’t send her home!”
Sam laughed. “I’ll give your worldly advice some serious consideration, Doctor Hagstrom. In the meantime though, I’m going to run a few errands while I’m in town and think all of this out. Ain’t got a drop of liquor in the house and I’m down to my last egg.”
“Sounds like my place,” Roger said as Sam pulled into the police station parking lot.
“Keep in touch,” Sam said as Roger started to get out. “When are you taking a day off, by the way?”
Roger opened the door and said, “You mean there’s really such a thing as that?”
“At least you’re getting paid scads of overtime.”
“Fuck, they’ll probably screw me out of that, too.”
With that, Roger Hagstrom got out, slammed the door and headed toward the station.
As he drove away, Sam Middleton had a lot on his mind.
***
An hour later, as he pulled up beside his house and got out of the Jeep, Sam wondered if Shelley was still in bed asleep. His question was answered when he reached the front door: Shelley was standing just inside the doorway, apparently awaiting him. Her face was white as a sheet.
“What’s wrong, Shelley?” he asked uneasily as he stepped inside and set the groceries on the floor.
She stood rigidly and looked away from him as she spoke. “Ann just called,” she announced dismally.
Sam felt his pulse quicken and his heart skip a beat. “What did she say?” he asked, hoping rather futilely that whatever had been said by his ex-wife had been said to his answering machine, and not to Shelley Hatcher.
Futile, indeed.
Suddenly, Shelley broke down. “You’re going to hate me!” she cried. “I should have never answered the phone!”
Sam felt his blood pressure go up 20 points, but he struggled to keep calm. “What did she say, Shelley?”
Again, Shelley looked away from him. “She asked for you. I told her you weren’t here,” she began slowly. Then she faced him again, tears streaming down her lovely face. “She knew it was me, Sam!”
She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, Sam. It looks like I’ve screwed you up again,” she sobbed.
Sam patted her back halfheartedly. “How do you know that Ann knew it was you?” he asked lamely.
Her muffled reply was, “Because she said, ‘This is Shelley Hatcher, isn’t it?’ I froze up, Sam, and couldn’t answer. Then she yelled ‘slut!’ and slammed down the phone.”
Sam was speechless. His anger at Shelley’s answering the phone in the first place was offset by his own stupidity for not telling her before he left to let the answering machine field any calls he might have until he returned. But utmost in his mind was the overwhelming guilt he now felt and how incredibly small and fiendish he must now look in Ann’s eyes now that she knew he had been with Shelley Hatcher, of all people.
There is no way out of this, he thought. He’d been caught red-handed yet again and Ann was never, ever going to forgive him.
Shelley Hatcher is bad news…
Remember telling yourself that, asshole?
Sam’s immediate impulse was to run to the phone, call Ann, try to explain. But there wasn’t anything to explain.
Jesus Christ! he thought. Was he not the most luckless son of a bitch on earth, or what?
Shelley’s incessant sobbing prevented him from flying totally off the handle. Again, just like the first time, she wasn’t to blame for this and Sam knew it. He’d given into temptation, again, and now he was going to have to face the consequences… again.
And now, in spite of his anger and frustration, and as ironic as it was, he realized that he felt even worse for Shelley Hatcher than he did for himself. He held her tight and felt the odd and impulsive urge to kiss her, which he did. Then he talked to her, gently, and eventually managed to calm her down somewhat. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom, where they spent the remainder of the afternoon making wild and passionate love.
CHAPTER 13
Sam glanced over at Shelley to make certain that she was asleep, slipped quietly out of bed and tiptoed out of the
bedroom. It was dusk and long shafts of sun shone through the window as he made his way to the den and picked up the phone. He dialed Ann’s number.
“Hello?” he heard her say.
“Hi, Ann.”
There was a moment of silence and Sam guessed that she was deciding whether or not to hang up on him. Finally, she spoke.
“What do you want?” Her tone of voice was undeniably terse.
“Please hear me out, Ann. I know you’re pissed at me right now and I don’t really blame-”
“Pissed?” she interrupted. “I’m a lot more than just pissed, Sam! How could you? After all the trouble that tramp has caused, you turn around and let her back into your life. I’m so angry at you that I could just scream!”
Before Sam could say anything, she added, “And you sure have had a lot of nerve acting like you were so hurt and torn up over the divorce-what a joke! I’m sorry I ever fell for that load of crap. How long has this been going on? How long have you been screwing that whore, Sam? Huh? How long have you been snowing me with your bullshit?”
Sam was taken aback by Ann’s outrage. He’d known she would be hurt and angry, but he’d never guessed she’d be this hysterical. “I’m sorry, Ann,” he said weakly. “I can see that you need some time to cool off, so I might as well not even try to argue my case now. I just want you to know that I haven’t been ‘snowing’ you, as you put it. I truly have been torn up over our divorce and will always be. This is the first time I’ve seen Shelley since-”
“I don’t even want to hear her name, Sam!” Ann snapped. “Furthermore, I’ve had all day to ‘cool down’ and I’m about as cooled down as I’m ever going to be. Listen, why don’t you do us both a favor and just leave me alone. I have nothing more to say to you. Nothing! You’ve really screwed up but good this time, buster. So just have your fun with your little slut friend and leave me alone!”
She slammed down the phone so hard it hurt.
Sam stared vacantly at the wall with the phone still to his ear. He was not only stunned by his ex-wife’s onslaught, but angry as well. He deserved a little better treatment than this-no matter how much he’d fucked up.
He deserved to be heard, at least.
He pushed the redial button. It rang a dozen or so times before Ann finally answered.
“What?” she hissed.
“You’re being a little unfair about this, don’t you think?”
“Unfair?” she echoed. “I’m being unfair? You’re a regular comedian, Sam.”
“I just want you to take a second here and look at the facts, Ann. We’re divorced, right? That was your idea, not mine. But no matter whose fault it was that we split up, the fact remains. We’re free now. Isn’t that what you keep telling me? So I should be free to see whomever I want whether you like that person or not. It just so happens that you despise this particular person, so all of a sudden I’m a bad guy. What if it were someone else? What would your reaction be then? Better yet, try putting the shoe on the other foot. What if you were seeing someone now? Would you want me to get all over your case like you’re getting on mine? Would that be fair?”
“You’re right about one thing, Sam: I do despise that bitch and I probably would react differently if it were someone else. But that’s the point. Why that slut, Sam, of all the people on earth? Can’t you do a little better than that?”
“Shelley is not a slut, Ann, and I wish you’d quit calling her that. She’s a nice girl-you don’t even know her!”
“Excuse me while I throw up!” she said, undaunted. “That’s it, Sam. I’m out of here. I’ve heard about all I care to hear. Have a nice life!”
“Wait!” Sam shouted furiously. “What are you trying to say? Are you telling me that you don’t ever want to see or hear from me again? Is that it? What about my daughter, goddamn it! What’s Amy got to say about all of this? Are you trying to write her out of my life, too? Are you going to tell Amy how terrible her father is and turn her against me? Well, you’d better think twice if that’s what you have in mind. I’ll fight you every inch of the way, by God!”
“Shut up, Sam!” Ann shouted. There was a pause, and then she said in a calmer voice, “I am not that petty, Sam, and you know it. I’m not going to tell Amy about this, nor do I have any intentions of ever trying to turn her against you. This is just between you and me. And while we’re on the subject, I might as well tell you now that I’m seeing someone too. Now what do you have to say about that?”
Sam was shocked but somehow managed to sound calm. “I think it’s wonderful,” he lied. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“His name is Jerry. And he’s very nice-he respects me.”
“And I don’t?”
“Apparently not,” was Ann’s reply.
Sam felt his blood pressure soaring. “Oh, I see. And what else, may I ask, does ol’ Jer have that I don’t?”
“Well, let me see… blonde hair, muscular build, oh, and he knows the difference between a lady and a tramp.”
Sam refused to appease her. “Sounds like quite a guy, Ann-a discriminating super-jock. Good going, kiddo!”
“Are we through now?” Ann said, obviously piqued.
“Not quite,” Sam said. “I’d like to talk to someone who still loves me. Put Amy on.”
“Amy’s not here. She’s at a friend’s house.”
“Oh,” Sam said, disappointed. “Well, in that case, let me just say one more thing before I let you go.”
“Make it quick-I’ve got things to do,” she said curtly.
“This is serious, Ann, so please listen.”
He waited a moment to switch gears, then said, “Roger thinks he has a pretty good idea who may have killed Marsha and Sara.”
“Who?” Ann asked, her voice suddenly solemn.
“Do you remember Stanley Jenkins from high school?”
“The nerdy guy who always got straight A’s?”
“That’s the one. That’s who they think may have done it.”
“No way!” Ann exclaimed.
“My exact reaction, too. But believe it or not, it’s starting to look like he’s the prime suspect. Stanley apparently went off the deep end after high school and has a police record-arson and attempted murder. Only trouble is, nobody has seen him in fifteen years.”
“I just can’t believe it! Do they have any proof that he did it?” Ann asked.
“No, but they’re working on it. I’m having a hard time buying into this too; but if you knew what all they’ve dug up on Stanley, it might make you a believer. Anyway, I wanted to let you know.”
Ann’s tone of voice was nearly normal when she said, “Thanks, Sam, I’m glad you did.”
“I’ll keep you posted if anything more develops.”
“Okay… Well, I’d better go,” Ann said, her voice returning to an icy edge.
“Big date with Jerry?” Sam quipped dryly, unable to resist the urge to get the last punch in.
“Maybe,” Ann sing-songed, “And is the little slut still there with you?” She countered viciously.
Sam realized he should leave well enough alone but hadn’t yet recovered from the fact that Ann was seeing another man. And now he resented the way Ann kept dragging Shelley through the slime.
“Yeah, Shelley’s still here,” he declared.
“Well, I hope you both have a good fuck,” Ann spat before slamming down the phone in his ear.
“Touche,” he mumbled to the dead line.
Sam sat there for a moment or two before hanging up the phone. Finally, he stood up, went into the kitchen to get a beer, then went out to the back porch to get some fresh air and hopefully, some kind of perspective on where to go from here.
CHAPTER 14
Ann’s blood was boiling when she hung up on Sam.
The nerve of him! she thought.
It had been nagging her all day and as hard as she’d tried to blot it out of her mind, she found that her anger only intensified the more she thought about that little bitch answer
ing the phone like she was a permanent fixture at Sam’s house. And now, he’d had the audacity to call her and try to smooth everything over. Well, it didn’t work that time and sure as hell wasn’t going to work this time either. She had enough problems already without having to put up with this bullshit.
Her only saving grace had been the fact that she’d told Sam abut Jerry, which she would have never dreamed of doing otherwise. But the temptation to put Sam in his place at the time had been too great, and now she was glad she’d done it. It hurt him, she could tell, stung him like a bee, but he by God deserved it.
Ann went over to the sink and resumed washing the dishes, wishing that Amy would come down to earth once in a while and do a few chores around the house for a change. But she was so wrapped up in her social life that it seemed like there was no one else in her little world besides herself and her friends. Her mother was apparently only here for the purpose of putting a roof over her head, feeding her, and provide whatever other necessities might crop up along the way-like the new dress she had just bought her for the school dance next week.
Ann was just about to drain the dishwater when the telephone rang. Thinking that it might be Sam calling again, she took her time drying her hands before finally answering it.
“Hello,” she spoke curtly into the mouthpiece.
“Ann, it’s me. Have I caught you at a bad time? Karen asked.
“Oh, hi, Karen. Sorry, I thought you might be Sam.”
“Sounds like you weren’t exactly looking forward to his call.”
“You wouldn’t believe how mad I am at that man! I tried calling you earlier by the way-where were you?” Ann asked.
“Just running errands. So tell me, what did your ex do to get you so angry? And how did the date go last night?” her friend inquired.
Ann heaved a long sigh. “I guess I’d better start at the beginning. The date went very well-I had a great time. We went to Angelino’s for dinner then came here for a drink. Jerry’s such a nice guy! I wouldn’t call it love or anything, but I really did enjoy his company.”
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