Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel (20 page)

T
he rest of the morning passed like molasses. She kept the blinds closed, and turned the ringer off on the phone. When she left the house to go to lunch, she looked around as casually as she could and tried to take note of every vehicle on the street.

Mrs. Harrison hunched over the strip of flowers between their houses. She waved, "Did you hear about Bruce Peabody?"

Andi opened the car door. "No, what about him?"

"Had a heart attack and died in his sleep." Bruce was a lobster fisherman, a fixture on the harbor front. The old lady grinned and turned back to her weeding. "Good way to go!"

Andi shook her head at her neighbor's obsession with death and hopped in the Jeep. She backed out and headed towards town. Her eyes drifted to the rearview mirror, looking for a tail. A blaring horn broke her reverie and saved her from a head on collision at First and Pine. She shook herself and blinked back tears. The blackmailer wouldn’t be following her to lunch.

She didn’t think so anyway.

Lunch was a casual affair, thankfully. Andi found it difficult to focus, and she caught bits and pieces of conversation. Dana had brochures and talked about the amount of time in the chapel and the slider buffet and the champagne toast and a premium brand open bar and chocolate fondue. Then she mentioned that her fiancé wanted to go with one package, but she wanted the cheaper package. She mentioned a showroom and IMAX and then it was back to the chapels and their creams and greens and wouldn’t that be pretty for a wedding.

The only colors Andi could think about were black and white.

The colors of the grainy photograph stuffed between her mattress and box springs at home. The colors prisoners wear who do time for murder.

Finally, thankfully, the minute hand on the clock on the wall inched up until it pointed toward the 12. Dana glanced at her watch and frowned.

“Damn! Lunch hour just isn’t enough. And I did not mean to talk the entire time. Look, I didn’t eat hardly any of my lunch.” Dana glanced at Andi's plate, then at Andi. “And you didn’t eat any of your fries. I’ve never known you to skip fries when Chad wasn’t-“

Dana's mouth hung open for a moment as she caught herself. She snapped her mouth shut. Andi smiled sadly and shrugged. Chad's habit of criticizing every bite of food that went in her mouth used to embarrass her. At least that's one thing she didn't have to endure anymore, but he was right. Every bite she put in her mouth went straight to her rounded hips.

Dana leaned forward. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. That just popped out. I’m so sorry.”

“Not a problem. Here, it’s on me today.” Andi tossed a twenty and a five on the table as the two pushed their chairs back. Andi tugged her shirt down over her hips, self conscious of their fullness. Dana walked towards the law office, and Andi headed home, wondering what might be waiting for her. More pictures? Messages on the machine?

The mail had come by the time she arrived home, but it was just the usual – junk mail and bills. Again, she took note of the vehicles around, but didn’t see anything out of place. Once inside, she flipped the deadbolt and headed upstairs to the darkened bedroom to check the machine. Light slipped in around the blinds. The red blinking light gave her pause, and she considered pressing delete, but couldn't. She pushed play and sat down on the bed to listen.

A quiet, vaguely strained voice said, “You there? It’s me. Thought I might stop by after work and check on you. Call me at the Chamber if you get in before 4.”

The sound of Paul’s voice surprised her. The computerized voice after his message said he had called at 1:12 pm. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. She hadn’t missed him by much. She played the message again, and again thought he sounded a little off. Maybe he'd found out about Caren's infidelity. The corners of her mouth curled up.

She punched in the Chamber’s number and asked to be transferred to Paul Thompson. He answered briskly.

“Hey, lover,” she said in her sexiest voice.

“Hey, yourself. Been out today?”

“Just got back.”

“Really? Why?”

She blinked, taken aback at his tone. She fought her first instinct to apologize for going out, and instead straightened and said, “My best friend Dana and I were talking wedding plans.”

“Oh, right. You’re going to be her maid of honor.”

Was the fact that she was involved in a wedding bothering him? Jealous? Nervous? “Yup. That’s me. You want to stop by after you get done there?”

“Sure. It’ll be a little after 4.”

“Great. See you then.”

After she hung up, she went through the house room by room, checking the windows to make sure they were locked. Being alone freaked her out. She wasn't good on her own. She kept going over the conversation. His voice sounded a little stiff, and there was that comment ‘been out today?’ She shrugged it off, then reminded herself not to read too much into it. Between the years of Chad’s constant monitoring of her whereabouts and the surprise delivery of the photograph, she was on edge. It would be good to spend a little time relaxing with Paul, and it would give her a chance to make sure he knew how good life could be with her.

With that in mind, she went to the closet and picked out fresh clothes. She pulled on black jeans, to make her butt look smaller, and a pale pink blouse so she could leave an extra button undone. With a dab of product rubbed between her palms, she ran her fingers through her short hair and tousled it. The fresh look made her look younger, spunkier. With a smile, she admired her look, glad she'd taken the plunge and cut her long locks. It might be a cliché, but she felt like a new woman.

And it was time for a new start.

She skipped down the stairs and lit a couple of candles, then chose a bottle of wine to chill. After she selected a couple of goblets from the wine cart and set them out so they would be ready, she flipped through CDs to look for something to set the mood until the doorbell rang. The clock on the mantle said 3:30, and Paul had said after 4. Instantly, her breath quickened and her stomach clenched. She padded as softly as she could to the front door and looked through the peephole. Paul stood there, shoulders hunched up as if trying to stay warm.

Or hidden.

She opened the door and stepped back. He came in, pushed the door shut behind him and kissed her. It was a deep kiss, his lips taking hers - so unlike his usual greeting. It took her breath away. Her eyes opened wide, and she felt her body respond before she even realized what was happening. She melted against him, until he pulled away abruptly, grabbed her hand and led her to the family room.

“We need to talk,” he said as he pulled her down beside him on the sofa. He sat leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” She kept her face a blank slate, impassive. But would she appear uninterested? Her eyebrows pushed together in a frown.

He let his hands drop and looked at her. “I think Caren is having an affair.”

She patted his thigh and said gently, “Well, sweetheart, is that such a bad thing? I mean, you are, too.”

His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows shot up. “That’s different.”

Typical man. Of course he thought it was different. “Is it?”

He blinked twice, rapidly. “Yes.”

His ego was bruised. She probed gently, “How?”

“It just is.”

She felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. This wasn't the reaction she hoped for. Then again, what man could ever conceive that his wife would cheat on him? She scooted closer and draped her arm over his shoulders.

She lowered her head and asked, “What makes you think she’s screwing around on you?”

His piercing blue eyes flashed as he said, “I think she’s taking trips with this guy.”

“How do you know?” She held her breath, wondering how much he would share with her.

He shrugged her arm off his shoulders and stood. She hesitated a moment, then pushed to her feet. His back was to her. His broad shoulders rose and fell, and she yearned to touch him but was afraid to. If he rejected her, she would die.

He whispered, “Did you ever cheat on Chad?”

She gasped. “No! Absolutely not!”

“I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to fall for you."

Perhaps a nudge could swing the balance her way. “I never meant to fall for you, either.”

He turned to look at her, and she gazed into his eyes. Those eyes were like pools of deep water, and she wanted to drown in them. She stepped forward and put her arms around his neck. He didn’t pull back. She tipped her head back and stretched up to kiss him. He responded, then stiffened.

And not in a good way.

His voice thickened. “What are you doing?”

“Your wife is cheating on you. So why not?” She let her hand trail down his arm, then took him by the hand and led him to the stairs. He stopped with one foot on the bottom step.

“I can’t do this. I am a married man. It’s different for you. Your husband is dead.” He motioned to the wedding photo still displayed on the console table. “You can’t even get rid of all of his stuff. Won’t let me help you do it. I have a wife at home waiting for me, and right now I need to be with her.”

He pulled away, then walked out the front door.

Andi stood at the bottom of the stairs, deflated. With Chad dead, she was free to get on with life. She'd wasted so much time with Chad, and felt as if time was ticking away far too quickly. Paul would be a dream come true, and he was slipping away. All she had to do was get rid of Caren.

And stay out of jail.

S
he stayed up until nearly one in the morning, worrying. Someone out there knew – or thought they knew - the truth about that accident. She'd been so caught up in life - worrying about money, her home being sold, having no credit cards, losing her job, worrying about Paul’s marriage, she'd nearly forgotten about it until the pictures and phone calls.

She went to bed but laid awake until nearly dawn, thinking about ways to track the blackmailer down. Most blackmailers were looking for payment. This one wanted something she didn’t have. She needed to figure out who he was and find something on him. Everyone has a skeleton in their closet.

The next morning, she got up, showered and dressed quickly. With a mental list in mind, she was ready to get to work. She sipped on cup of strong coffee while she made a list of stops to make.

Her first stop was Chad’s office. Jennie had done a good job of cleaning the place up before she dropped the key off with Andi, but the realtor hadn’t found anyone who wanted to buy it yet. Chad’s office contents had been boxed up and stored in the building. She intended to sell the contents to a new dentist. Jennie had told her Chad’s personal effects and papers were packed in bankers boxes stored under his desk. Andi pulled the first box out and sat down on the floor to look through it.

Part of her suspected the photographer was a private eye that Chad hired to follow her. She couldn’t imagine anyone could just happen to be out on a stormy night with equipment like that. Surely he would've noted that in his papers somewhere.

Most of what she found was mundane. There wasn’t even any personal correspondence or notes. Had Jennie culled out what she didn’t want Andi to see? She put everything back in the first box and shoved it under the desk. She went through the second box and found more of the same, mostly handbooks and newsletters and journals relating to the field of dentistry. About halfway through the stack, she found Chad’s leather bound agenda.

She leaned back against the wall and flipped through the gold-edged pages. Most were notations about patients, with a few social engagements and business meetings sprinkled throughout. One entry in late March caught her eye. It simply said “P - 2 pm Tiny's Pub.” She dog-eared the page. For most of the other entries, she recognized either the names of his colleagues or friends or the locations, but she'd never known Chad to go to Tiny's. She flipped forward to the first weekend in April.

That weekend, he had been in Atlantic City, but told her he went to a conference in Boston. Her blood boiled at the memory of spending her birthday alone. She hadn’t even called anyone, because she didn’t want Dana or her mother to know she was by herself.

She shook her head as if that could make the memories go away. The notation on that Friday at 5 said simply “AC conf w/ P.” There was a smiley face jotted next to the entry.

P, again. He had told her he didn’t know anyone going to the conference. Obviously he hadn't gone to a dental conference in Boston. He’d gone to Atlantic City. And apparently the friend wasn’t just a one night stand he found there. It was a planned getaway.

She dog-eared that page, too, but wasn’t sure what she could possibly do with just an initial. At least some bar, she could go talk to somebody. But his fling just had one initial. She frowned and went back to the agenda. All that was left were the last few entries before the night he died.

Only two days before he died, he wrote himself a reminder, “P’s b-day.”

She hadn’t gotten flowers, a gift or even a card for her birthday. She snapped the agenda closed and tossed it back in the box. As she pushed herself to her feet, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and answered. It was Dana. “Hey, girl! Just wanted to remind you, I’ll be by to pick you up at 9 tomorrow morning.”

              It took a moment for Andi to remember that she was going to Atlantic City with Dana. While they discussed last minute preparations, she returned everything to the boxes. She paused, opened the second box and pulled out Chad's agenda.

By the time she left the dental office, the sun was touching Cadillac Mountain to the west. With a heavy heart, she decided to call it a day and head home. She checked the mail before going in, and noticed a brown envelope, about 6 x 8 or so. No return address, but her name and address were printed in neat block letters with a Sharpie. Her breath caught and she looked around. Mrs. Harrison's curtain fluttered in her living room window.

Andi hurried inside and locked the door, then went into the kitchen and pulled a Sam Adams from the ‘fridge before perching on a bar stool. The envelope sat on the counter in front of her. Her eyes never left it, but she popped off the cap and took three good gulps of beer before she opened it.