Ruined

by Jw Grodt

  After the salads were finished, April announced, “I think the casserole should be cool enough to eat now.” She stood and retrieved it from its trivet on the sideboard. After heaping generous portions on everyone’s plates, she again sat back down.

  “I hope you’ll like this recipe, Nicole. I promise it is not cold and there are no cucumbers!” She gave Brad a wink.

  Nicole gingerly took a bite, chewing slowly as she looked down at her plate.

  “Oh, this is very good,” she said as she swallowed. “It needs just a touch more paprika to make it perfect.” She took another bite without looking up at either Brad or April.

  Not to be outdone, April smiled in mock serenity. “You know, Nicole, I think you’re absolutely right, I shall remember that next time.”

  Brad limited his words to compliments on the food and comments about the weather. He looked back and forth at the two women, braced for the next catfight and yet finding a guilty pleasure in two women fighting over him. He kept telling himself he was on April’s side, but a nagging ache in his gut was impeding his digestive process.

  At the conclusion of the meal, April said, “Who’s in the mood for some lemon meringue pie? It’s homemade.”

  Brad raised his hand. Nicole declined and began clearing the dishes from the table. April gave Brad a playful look.

  “Alright then. I wouldn’t want to get blamed if your belt size increases.” She patted his stomach.

  Brad looked at her in mock warning. “Keep that up and I may have to abandon you for my other girlfriend.”

  “Oh yes? Two-timing me already?” April asked with amusement.

  Nicole, coming back for more dishes, overheard them. “It’s true,” she said with a smirk. “He keeps her in her own apartment out back.”

  Brad paused for a moment; then, he was nothing short of charmed by Nicole’s thinking. He at once took her cue. “Would you like to meet her?”

  “I think maybe I’d better!” April replied with skepticism.

  Brad led the way as April and Nicole followed. He unlocked the door leading to the garage and flipped on the light switch. Pointing to a car covered by a gray tarp, he announced, “April, meet Pocahontas.”

  “Boys and their toys,” a sarcastic Nicole said over her shoulder as she headed back to the kitchen.

  “I always wondered what was in here. I just assumed it was work stuff.”

  “Why didn’t you ask?”

  “I just figured you’d tell me when you wanted me to know.”

  Brad showed her the classic Pontiac his old boss had left him and then showed off the rest of his man-cave. With Nicole out of the way for the moment they exchanged a few kisses and passionate squeezes.

  “I’ve worked up an appetite now. How about that pie?” Brad suggested teasingly.

  When they returned to the dining room Brad wondered if Nicole had been eavesdropping. Plates of pie were set out on the table, along with full, steaming cups of coffee. Her expression was one of indifference and she said little to April or Brad as they enjoyed their dessert.

  Later, Brad suggested a walk around the neighborhood and April readily assented. It was a cool evening and the sun had just set. They walked down streets illuminated by strategically placed streetlights. For a moment or two they discussed Nicole’s immaturity and quirkiness, but soon changed the subject to wedding plans. April’s recounting of the guest list droned in the background of his consciousness as he thought back to dinner and how Nicole had captivated him. Her obvious jealousy and resentment of April turned him on. Yet again he found himself in the early stages of arousal. The brisk walk invigorated him and increased blood flow made his fantasy all the more vivid. He was there again, in her room that night, having his way without protest, owning her….

  “Brad Wallace, are you listening to me?” April’s voice was a shrill saber slicing into his dream. The neighbor’s Pomeranian charged off the porch at the sound of her raised voice. They were almost back in his driveway.

  “Of course, honey! I’m sorry. My mind drifted for a moment. I just remembered I forgot to call Stan about something.”

  “Well, get me your guest list pronto, mister! I have work to do!” she admonished jokingly.

  By the time they returned to the house, Nicole was nowhere to be seen. April scooped up her things, saying she was tired and wanted a good night’s sleep in her own bed.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay?” Brad said, hearing the half-hearted tone in his voice and feeling a surge of guilt.

  “No, no. You have fun babysitting, darling!” she called over her shoulder with a wry smile. He followed her out to her car, gave her a perfunctory wet kiss and watched her drive off. He went back inside, looked around for any signs of his daughter-in-law and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. He headed for his bedroom to watch a movie he had recorded earlier. He kept telling himself he hoped she wouldn’t interrupt him, while his mind echoed with her soft, insidious tap-tap-tap on his door. He fell asleep when the movie ended around 11:30, his heavy eyelids fluttering as he strained to keep the bedroom door in his sight.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next morning was Sunday, March seventh. Brad awoke to a clear spring day, with sunshine coaxing blossoms of all colors while it warmed the pale green earth. From his kitchen window he watched robins hopping over his back lawn as he made his morning coffee. He had his newly-repaired favorite mug steaming in one hand and the phone in the other as he gave April a wake-up call. He was curious as to how she was feeling after last night’s drama. He also thought he might ask her to spend the afternoon antique shopping with him in Middleburg, about forty miles from home. Hanging around the house with Nicole was only going to make him a nervous wreck. He had to get over the little sexpot, somehow, if he wanted to have any semblance of a healthy relationship with his son, let alone his future wife. April’s phone went straight to voicemail. Thinking she might be in the shower, he grabbed another cup of coffee and went off to shower as well.

  After he dressed he flopped down on the sofa and flipped on the TV to get the weather forecast. That morning he was feeling unusually light-spirited. He had control of this situation. Spending the day shopping with April was the perfect solution. Perhaps he could even convince her to grab a hotel somewhere. Maybe he would even take Pocahontas out for an airing.

  He scrolled the remote to a local channel and his eyes froze on the banner at the bottom of the screen. The words “Local Realtor Dies in Accident” punched him in his gut. He took in the camera’s angles of a burned-out vehicle and his gaze zoomed in on the plate that read “Realtor 1.” He listened to the announcer’s narrative: “Tragically killed last night around eleven-thirty…car plunged over an embankment…body burned beyond recognition…law enforcement determined possible identity through license plate…name being withheld until notification of next of kin….”

  The mug of hot coffee spilled onto the carpet. His lower jaw began to quiver and his chest began to heave. He choked back vomit and he headed for the bathroom, but then stopped midway, unsure of what to do, whom to call. He paced back and forth and began to sob. This can’t be true! It isn’t real! There’s been some mistake! He grabbed his cell again and tried April’s number.

  “Please,” he sobbed, “please honey, please April please answer.” Her voice came to him again, hauntingly: “Hi, It’s April. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

  Brad began to weep uncontrollably. How could this happen? All our plans…. All at once Brad realized how much he needed her, really needed her. She was his hope for being a better man. He thought of Julie, and how April could have put some of his late wife’s stability and order in his life. Why didn’t I make her stay last night? He ran his hand over the back of his head as he paced back and forth across the living room, panting and blinking back tears. It was because of her! That little bitch downstairs! He had let Nico
le run the show: take over his home, his emotions. He had succumbed to her cock-teasing, her ridiculous fears of being alone, her screwed up need for some daddy figure! He was raging with grief and started downstairs to confront her. He wanted her to get the hell out, now! The hollow chime of the doorbell in the foyer stopped him.

  He opened the door to find two men in suits with stern expressions on their faces. The aroma of cheap aftershave hit his nostrils. One pulled open his jacket to reveal the gold badge attached to his belt. “I’m Detective Alex Bernard and this is Detective John Jones. May we come in?”

  Brad hesitated. He hoped Nicole did not hear the doorbell.

  “Ah, yes of course, please.”

  The two men stepped into the foyer.

  “Mr. Wallace, do you know April Bennett?” Detective Bernard, a trim, middle-aged man with a receding salt-and-pepper hairline looked him straight in the eye in inquiry.

  Brad began to cry. “My God, it’s true! She’s dead isn’t she?” He backed away from the door, stumbled on the six steps and fell onto the couch with the two men following. “I just saw it on the news.”

  “So, you do know her?” Detective Jones repeated. He was a younger, blonde swarthy kid. He didn’t look to be more than thirty.

  “Of course I do. We are, I mean, we were… engaged. Oh dear God, please tell me it wasn’t her in that car.”

  “Sir, it was Ms. Bennett. We’ve made a positive identification. I am sorry for your loss,” said Bernard.

  Brad covered his face with his hands as the two men stood silently for a moment, observing him.

  “Mr. Wallace, do you mind answering a few questions at this time?”

  Brad could only nod as he choked when he tried to speak.

  “When did you see Ms. Bennett last?” Jones took out a notebook from the pocket of his blazer.

  “She was here for dinner last night and left shortly after eleven o’clock,” Brad responded in a hoarse whisper. He looked away from the men, in the direction of the dining room, trying to picture April sitting there the night before.

  “Was there anyone else here for dinner?”

  “Yes, my daughter-in-law.”

  “Can you give us her name?”

  “Yes, it’s Nicole Wallace.”

  “May we have her address?” Bernard took over the questioning.

  “She’s downstairs. She always stays with me when my son Jared is out of town.”

  “Would you mind asking her to come up so we might ask her a few questions also?” Bernard looked toward the kitchen.

  “Sure, just a moment.” Brad slowly got to his feet and went down to her room and knocked on the door. It took a minute or two to rouse her. When she opened the door, she was half asleep.

  “Nicole, April is dead.”

  “What?” she gasped as her eyes opened fully. She screamed at the top of her lungs and then began to sob. Her reaction disturbed him. Despite her jealous behavior, the truth was that Nicole barely knew April.

  He heard the quickened paces of the two men as their footsteps hit the floor above and proceeded down the stairway. When they came into her room, Brad was sitting on her bed holding her. Finally, when she calmed down, Nicole told them she would come upstairs as soon as she got dressed. The three men went back to the living room.

  “Mr. Wallace, how would you describe your relationship with Ms. Bennett?” Bernard cocked his head back as he awaited Brad’s reply.

  “Great. We were in love and about to be—wait, what are you getting at? I thought this was a car accident?”

  “So you were getting along well?” Jones asked.

  “Of course! She made a lovely dinner for us last night. I wanted her to stay, but….” Brad broke off. He didn’t know how to put into words why April didn’t stay.

  “But what, Mr. Wallace?” Jones shot back.

  “She…she had had a long day with a client and she said she wanted to get a good night’s sleep in her own bed,” Brad offered up, trying to sound indifferent.

  “Are you very familiar with automotive work?” Bernard asked. “Do you do your own oil changes, brakes, that sort of thing?”

  “Well, yes, I do, but what’s that—”

  “Would you be willing to let us have a look around?”

  Before he could answer, Nicole came into the room. She wore a low-cut white sweater and jeans. Her freshly painted red toenails poked out from beneath the hem of her pants. “Gentleman, you have questions for me?” For the first time since the young detective entered the house, a slight smile replaced his scowl for just a few seconds.

  “Yes, ma’am. Were you here when Ms. Bennett arrived?” Bernard queried.

  “Yes sir. I was here all the time she was here. She arrived around five in the afternoon and left after eleven.”

  “Did you or Mr. Wallace leave the house anytime during her visit?”

  “No. She arrived, we had cocktails, and then she fixed an excellent dinner. Afterwards we all sat around and talked until she said she had to go home. We all said goodnight at the door and they kissed and she left. Oh, Dad did walk her to her car. He was back inside before I went downstairs to bed just a few minutes later.”

  Detective Bernard gave her a penetrating look. His eyes dropped to her cleavage for a split second. Brad felt a synapse of jealousy fire off inside him. “Ma’am, are you certain that Mr. Wallace never left the house after she arrived up and until he walked her to her car?”

  “Yes, I’m absolutely positive.”

  Detective Jones followed up. “Do either of you know if Ms. Bennett had trouble with anyone lately?”

  Brad shook his head and Nicole replied “No, I know of no one, but then I haven’t had a lot of contact with her. She and Dad haven’t had that long of an engagement.”

  “We have reason to suspect that someone tampered with Ms. Bennett’s brake system on her car,” Bernard piped up. “There are two small puddles of brake fluid on your driveway, Mr. Wallace. Can you explain that?”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Brad ran to the bay window that looked out onto the drive.

  The older detective grabbed the other’s arm and said, “Let’s go, John. We’re done here. “Thank you both for your help and again, we’re sorry for your loss. We’ll be in touch.”

  Nicole showed them to the door. Brad waited until they left and then went out to the driveway. Sure enough there were two puddles of liquid. Brad stuck his finger in one of the puddles, retrieved a small amount of the fluid and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. He put his oily finger to his nose. It was definitely brake fluid. His pain and sorrow now gave way to anger.

  “Who the fuck did this?!” He screamed so loud that Nicole came running out and ordered him inside. He stood there trembling in anger. In his blind rage he let her lead him inside.

  “She was murdered and the detectives knew it,” she said as she took his arm. “They’ll catch who did it—don’t they always?” Her voice lowered as she uttered the question.

  Brad stopped short and pulled away from her. She stepped up on the porch and turned to look at him. He searched her eyes, looking for what, he wasn’t sure.

  Why did she give me an airtight alibi? She had gone to her room while April fixed dinner, plus she wasn’t with us when we went for a walk. He further considered that she was nowhere to be seen when they returned from their walk and when April left for the evening.

  Nicole steadied him to the couch.

  “Can I get you something, a drink perhaps?”

  Brad nodded and she poured him a double shot from the bourbon bottle he had in the cabinet. She walked it back to him. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the glass. Nicole steadied his with her free hand.

  “Nicole, can you sit with me for a moment?”

  “Sure, Dad.” She sat as close to him as she could.
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br />   He belted down the shot and looked directly at her. “Why did you lie to the police?” Her face immediately changed to a puzzled look.

  “Why did you tell those detectives that we were together all the time, when clearly we were not?” he pressed her.

  “Dad, I know you would never harm anyone and they could have pinned it on you with the circumstantial evidence. You saw how aggressive the younger one was. Hell, he had you sentenced for the fluid on the driveway. I had to protect you from him.”

  Brad asked for another shot. She filled the glass and handed it to him. “I couldn’t allow you to be falsely convicted, for Jared’s sake. Are you unhappy with me for doing so?”

  He looked into her eyes and they yet again began to work their spell. He emitted a rattling sigh. “No, dear. I’m not unhappy with you.”

  She stretched to hug him. “Dad, I’m so sorry that you lost her. I know how much you loved her. I know I acted badly in the beginning, but Jared told me that April was good for you so I have been working on accepting it for your sake.”

  It struck him like a bolt of lightning. “Oh my God! Jared I have to call him, he doesn’t know.”

  She pulled away, grabbed her cell and called him. It went to voicemail and she asked him to call ASAP.

  “Nicole, when he calls back, I want to tell him, okay?”

  They sat on the couch and waited for Jared’s call. When the phone rang a short time later, he was devastated by the horrific news. He had an important meeting the next morning, but would skip it and catch the next flight home.

  “Go ahead and attend your meeting, son. There’s nothing you can do at present, anyway. I have to contact April’s brother and talk with him about arrangements.”

  After Jared expressed further sorrow for his father, Nicole took the phone and made plans to pick up Jared at the airport the following day. When she hung up and turned to look at him, Brad thought he saw a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.

  * * *

  The morning of the funeral dawned with steel-gray overcast skies that brought wind and rain for most of the day. Nicole and Jared had spent the last few days at Brad’s place; Jared had wanted to be close to help anyway he could. That morning, as they dressed to leave for the funeral, Nicole fixed a light breakfast. Brad had coffee and a shot of bourbon, but no food.