

## Disclaimer: This book is, in its entirety a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is a mere coincidence. While it is not a work of erotica, it does contain some descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. If those things are objectionable to you, please do not read this book.

## The Devil, The Ghost, and Will Anderson

Chapter One – A Momentous Decision

My name is William Anderson. I am a sales manager. I don't know why I mentioned that. I doubt that it is germane to the story I am about to tell you.

The whole thing started a while back when my wife was out of town visiting her sister. I had stayed at the office longer than usual since I had no one waiting for me at home. We do not have any children, so I knew the house would be empty. Of course, I could always watch re-runs on TV. Have you ever noticed that the more channels you have, the less there is to watch?

Anyway, I finally left my office, turned north onto Western Ave. and headed home. For some reason, my eye caught a neon sign flashing Budweiser. I couldn't remember the last time I had stopped at a bar on the way home. But that sign was almost calling my name. I pulled the car into the lot and turned off the engine. Again I thought about starting it up and heading home. I didn't see any other vehicles in the lot and what fun is it to hang out in an empty bar. If I am going to drink alone, why not do it at home? Then I thought, you are already here, you might as well have one drink.

I made my way across the empty lot and entered the building. I had to stop just inside the door to allow my eyes to get accustomed to the relative darkness. Bars are always dark due to a study that showed that rats drink more in the dark. Amazing how we allow ourselves to be manipulated by the habits of rodents. When my eyes became acclimated, I surveyed the room. Sure enough, there were no other customers. A strong smell of stale tobacco hung in the air. Three pool tables lined the sidewall. Again I thought about turning to leave when the bartender called from across the room. "Welcome to Jack's. Come on over, and I will buy the first one. I need a little company tonight."

I looked his way. He appeared to be in his early twenties about six foot four and maybe 220 pounds. He had blond hair and just the start of a mustache. I thought he could be some type of athlete. I headed over to the bar and ordered a bourbon and ginger ale. "Hi, my name is Bill and yours?"

"Just call me, Pete," he replied.

"Is it always this dead in here?" I asked.

"We have not been open long. I guess it takes a while to build up a clientele. Would you mind watching the bar while I get something from the storeroom? If someone comes in, just yell out."

I sipped my drink and thought what a waste of time this was. I hate drinking alone. I wished that someone would come in. Just then, a man sat down next to me.

"Well, Bill, it looks like you could use some company," he remarked.

I looked at the stranger beside me. Try as I might, I could not remember ever meeting him before. He appeared to be in his fifties, about six feet tall. He had black, slightly curly hair. His skin was wrinkled and browned as if he had spent too much time close to a campfire. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. They were coal-black, and they seemed to be able to see deep inside me. It was almost unnerving. There was no way that I would have ever forgotten them.

"How did you know my name?" I asked him.

"Oh, we've crossed paths a few times," he replied. His voice was soft, but with a quality that almost demanded attention. "Most people call me Jack," he said nonchalantly.

"Jack, huh. Say, do you own this place?"

"I own lots of things. I guess I could take credit for this as well."

I thought how artfully he had sidestepped my question of how he knew me. For some reason, I just could not question this man. At first, I thought that I didn't want to hurt his feelings. If I went further and demanded more of an explanation, I would be telling him that he was forgettable or that he was lying.

We spent what seemed like a few minutes just in idle conversation, the weather, sports, and things like that. My first drink was gone, and a second miraculously appeared. When that disappeared, I ordered another round for Jack and myself. I knew that I should not be drinking so much. I didn't live too far from here, but driving and drinking was not a wise choice.

Almost without my noticing it, the bar had begun to fill up with people. Three men were playing pool at one of the tables, a young couple in the corner were engrossed in each other. The thing that struck me funny was that I did not see any of them come in. The young couple in the corner reminded me of my wife and me when we were younger. They seemed so in love, untouched by familiarity.

Almost as if he was reading my mind, Jack remarked, "Such a nice time in a person's life. I bet they are totally unaware of anything except their desire for each other. They have no regrets or thoughts of being with someone else. After a while, they will run out of things to talk about and start thinking about how nice it would be to have some variety in their lives. Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to sleep with someone other than your wife, Bill?"

Chapter Two – Temptation Calls

"I am perfectly happy being faithful to my wife. She is the most beautiful and understanding woman in the world. And our sex life has always been wonderful."

"Your words are commendable, but even if she is the most beautiful woman in the world variety is the spice of life. Your favorite food maybe lobster, but no matter how well it is prepared, you wouldn't want to eat it for every meal for the rest of your life. You might want a good steak or even a hamburger once in a while. Take that woman over there that keeps looking your way. She is definitely not a hamburger. Filet mignon is more like it."

I turned to see whom he was referring to. Across the room, completely alone, sat a raven-haired beauty. She was a complete contrast to my wife, Mary. While Mary was blond, this woman had the darkest hair I had ever seen. Her skin was white but tanned with the sun. Her eyes were almost as black as Jack's, and I was sure they could make a man melt with desire for her. While Mary used little or no lipstick, this woman's lips were bright red and even from across the room appeared to be moist as if she had just been licking them with her tongue. The first two buttons of her blouse were unbuttoned, exposing just enough of two perfect breasts to make a man want to see more. Now I need to tell you that I have never been a breast man. My philosophy is that if a man is too entranced by that part of a woman's anatomy that he has an infantile complex. He wants to return and feed at his mother's tit. But I did wonder what it would be like to massage those and feel her nipples coming to life. I could only imagine what her legs would look like, but I was sure they would be long and firm. They would be the type of legs that could hold a man between them and make him never want to leave. I knew that I was staring, but for some reason, I could not take my eyes away from her. Even when she looked directly at me, I did not turn away. She did not seem embarrassed by my attention, but instead, a broad smile came over her face, and I almost swore her eye winked just slightly.

Jack's voice brought me out of my trance. "Makes you think, doesn't it. Maybe a little change could be good. You said Mary is out of town. She would never have to know. This is an opportunity that men would sell their souls for. She is obviously interested in you; why not buy her a drink and get to know her better?"

"That is definitely a bad idea. I have never cheated on my wife, and I am not going to start now. I think I better be going home. The alcohol is beginning to melt my brain."

Jack reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the end, and one slid out about a quarter-inch beyond the others. He turned to me and extended the pack in invitation. I had not smoked a cigarette in two years, but I had smelled the smoke from others and had wished to myself that I could have one. It was almost as if Jack could read my mind. I started to hold my hand up to refuse, but for some reason, it was my fingers that reached and took the cigarette from him. I waited until he extracted one for himself, and then he lit both. As I took my first drag, I felt the old familiar feeling of the nicotine hitting my lungs. I started to become light headed as the drug did its work intensifying the effect that the alcohol had on me. I have to tell you that it was a great feeling. My eyes returned to the table where the brunette sat. However, she was not there. For a brief instant, I felt remorse. She had left, and I had missed the chance to talk with her.

Just then, I heard a soft feminine voice slightly behind me. "Could I borrow a cigarette? I normally don't smoke, but drinking and smoking seem to go together. The second-hand smoke in here smells so good that I would like to taste some first hand."

I turned to see the woman I had been staring at all night, very close to me. Jack tapped another cigarette out of the pack and put it to the woman's lips. She parted her lips slightly and allowed it to slide between those plush red muscles. She raised her right hand and gripped the cigarette between her first two fingers. She then bowed her head slightly and accepted the light that Jack offered. I don't know why, but as I viewed this scene, I thought of sex.

When Jack had finished lighting the woman's cigarette, he laid the pack and lighter on the bar. "I see that there are a couple of young men over there that need a few pool lessons. Feel free to enjoy the smokes. If you run out, I have more behind the bar. You two get to know each other."

Most people would take that remark as a suggestion, but coming from Jack, it was almost an order. I had no idea what to say, so I just held out my hand and introduced myself. "Hi, my name is Bill Anderson."

"I have been looking at you all night trying to figure out where I knew you from. You went to Randolph High School, didn't you?"

"Yes, were you there as well?" I felt like such a sap. If we had gone to school together, and I did not remember her, she was sure to be insulted.

I guess she could read the expression on my face. "Hey, don't worry about it. My name is Ellen Sanchez. I was a couple of grades behind you, and I was a late bloomer. Even the boys in my class didn't pay much attention to me. And besides, you were a big baseball star. Pitched a no-hitter in your senior year as I recall. You had one of the best curveballs I have ever seen. You had your choice of any girl you wanted. If I remember right, your choice was a blond cheerleader named Betty. We all thought that you would make it in the major leagues. There were major league scouts at that game. Did you ever get a shot?"

"I had an offer from the Indians. They offered me a minor league contract with a signing bonus of $25,000. Back then, it seemed like a lot of money, but my parents convinced me to go to college instead. They said if I was good enough to make the majors, I would have just as good a chance with a degree. So I went to Yale on scholarship. My college career started out well enough. I pitched a two-hitter the first game out of the box. In my second game, the other team's second baseman hit a slow roller to first base. I didn't get off the mound quickly enough, and when I got to the bag, he was steaming in. We came together in a violent collision. I tore up my pitching shoulder pretty good. Back then, they didn't have the medical advances that they have today. They just had good old standard surgery. It took me most of the year to rehab. The next spring, I tried to come back. I still had good pop on my fastball, but the curve just didn't work. I couldn't control it. I walked more than I struck out. You don't last long doing that. So I got my degree in business and ended up in sales."

"I have to tell you that I had a huge crush on you when we were in school. I was so jealous of Betty that it almost made me crazy. I thought about what it would be like to have just one dance with you. Of course, a hundred other girls were thinking the same thing. You know all you would have had to do is smile at me, and I would have fallen into your bed."

She was so candid that it brought a massive smile to my face.

"Nope, too late, now you have to buy me at least a drink."

I laughed and waved for Pete to come over. "Give the lady a drink, and I guess I will have another as well. By the way, are there any slow songs on the jukebox? I paid him for the drinks and handed him an extra five. Play something soft and slow and keep the rest."

Pete nodded and headed for the jukebox. When the music started, I turned to Ellen. "How about that one dance?"

She took my left hand and ran her fingers over my wedding band. I expected her to say something like, don't you think your wife will mind, but she didn't. She firmly took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. She came into my arms like she had been doing it all her life. No hesitation just melded her body to mine and started to sway to the music. I put my hand into the small of her back and applied just the slightest pressure. Even though she was wearing high heels, I was a good five inches taller than she was. The difference must have been from the waist up because we were a perfect match, where it counts the most. Her hips were already tight to mine, but she responded to the pressure and ground her pelvis into mine. I could feel my erection starting to grow, and I knew she noticed it as well. It seemed to make her even more excited as she worked her lower body against me. I bent slightly so that our cheeks could come together. Her skin on mine sent little shivers through my whole body. She let out a small breath of air that sounded almost like a sigh of contentment. It would be really easy to fall for this woman. The music stopped briefly, and I thought about breaking away. Her body felt so good against mine that I really didn't want to feel them part. Ellen was still swaying slightly, but not so much from side to side anymore. It was more like she was dry humping me on the dance floor. As the music started again, Ellen reached up and put her hand on the back of my head, drawing my lips down to meet hers. As we swayed to the music, our lips locked, and her tongue pushed its way into my mouth. I took it and sucked on it greedily. I allowed my hand to slide down to her hips, and I heard her give out a groan of pleasure. I couldn't remember the last time that I had wanted to make love to a woman so much as I did right then. I was so engrossed in the moment that I closed my eyes, and then I lost my balance. As I fought to right myself and keep both of us from falling, we came apart a little. I looked at Ellen, but both of us knew that the spell had been broken. I thought I saw just a hint of sadness in her dark eyes.

"God, I need a cigarette," she said and turned and headed back to the bar.

I followed her watching the movement of her hips and thinking of how close I had come to destroying my marriage. I watched her light her cigarette and thought of joining her, but I knew I had to go. I looked around for Jack, but he didn't seem to be in the room. Then to Ellen, I said, "I have to be going. I want you to know; I had a great time tonight."

"Yeah, me too," she said. She reached into her purse and withdrew a card with her name and phone number on it. She slid it into my hand and said, "If you ever feel like doing this again, give me a call. It might even be better if we left the clothes off."

"I am extremely flattered by the offer, but I really don't think my wife would understand."

"I am a big girl; she would never have to know."

"I have to go. You are the greatest." I headed for the door and suddenly realized that the effects of the alcohol had worn off. I had thought about taking a cab, but if I was careful, I figured I could make it home driving. I got into my car and carefully started home. Thankfully, I did not see any police on the way and made it safely to my house.

## Chapter Three - Regrets

When I awoke the next morning, three sumo wrestlers were dancing inside my head. Just the jar of putting my foot on the floor as I got out of bed was enough to send shockwaves of pain throughout my skull. My mouth tasted like I had swallowed the contents of a full ashtray. I looked at the clock beside my bed and discovered that I was already late for work. Thankfully I did not have to punch a time card, but guilt struck me nonetheless. I thought that a grown man has to do these things once in a while just to remind himself that he really shouldn't. I fought off the desire to be sick to my stomach and made my way to the bathroom. I searched through the medicine cabinet until I found the aspirin bottle. Of course, it had a childproof cap, and since I felt about two years old, I had trouble opening it. Finally, the lid came off, and I poured two aspirin into my hand. I looked at them for a few seconds and then decided to add a third. I poured water into a glass, popped the aspirin into my mouth, and washed them down with as much tap water as my stomach could stand. I thought about brushing my teeth, but just the idea of any type of movement in my mouth told me that I should wait until the pain pills had an opportunity to work. Walking as lightly as I could to reduce impact with the floor, I made my way to the kitchen and fixed the coffee pot. I then sat down to wait the eternity it would take for it to brew.

By the time that the heavenly odor of coffee reached my nose, my headache had subsided. I think two of the sumo wrestlers must have been taking a break. I poured some of the brown liquid into a cup and sipped it. I knew it would take a few minutes for the caffeine to take effect, but at least the taste of coffee was better than what had been in my mouth. It took a full two cups before I wanted to attempt to get ready for work. I made my way back to the bathroom and turned the shower on full. I adjusted the water to as hot as I could stand, testing it on my wrist. While the bathroom filled up with steam, I brushed my teeth. After the coffee and aspirin, the jarring against my skull was barely noticeable.

After my shower, I searched through my closet for a fresh pair of slacks and a shirt. I slipped them on and started emptying the pockets of the clothes I had worn the night before. They stunk of stale smoke, and the aroma of perfume was apparent as well. I looked at the shirt and noticed a bright red stain on the collar. I loved that lipstick on Ellen's lips, but it terrified me on that shirt. I grabbed a garbage bag and stuffed the shirt into it. I finished emptying the pants pockets and withdrew the business card she had given me. I knew that I should simply throw it away, but I could not bring myself to do it. I opened my wallet and carefully tucked it away behind my credit cards. Then I put the pants into the bag as well. I would drop them off at the cleaners on the way to work.

Finally, only two and a half hours late, I arrived at the office. I hoped that my secretary/receptionist would be away from her desk, but no such luck. "Good morning, Mr. Anderson. It looks like you had a rough night." She was rubbing the right side of her face with her index and middle fingers. I looked at her quizzically, not yet understanding sign language. "You forgot to shave," was her observation.

"Oh, Christ," was all I could utter as I quickly walked past her into my office. I sat down at my desk and peered at my calendar. I didn't remember any appointments that I had for today, and I was praying that my memory had not failed me.

Reaching forward, I shook the mouse back and forth on its pad a couple of times to rouse the computer from its sleep mode. As the screen came to life, I thought how nice it would be if someone could do the same thing for me. This was going to be a long day.

I clicked on the Internet and immediately went to my personal email. I usually do that in the evening but obviously, last night had not been normal. I was hoping to have some type of message from Mary. Almost always, when she is out of town, we exchange little pleasantries via the computer. Much to my surprise, I had no messages. "Strange, I thought. Oh, well, they probably went out to eat and got back late." I clicked on to compose, typed in Mary's email address, and typed, "Just wanted to let you know I love you. See you soon."

I spent the rest of the day going over sales reports, answering emails, and sending out updates to the various salespeople. Lunchtime came and went without any desire to eat. Several times during the day, Sandy would stick her head into the room to ask about setting appointments for interviews. At least that was the reason she gave. I have a feeling she was just checking to make sure that I was still alive.

Finally, enough of the day had gone by so that I could justify going home. By this time, the hangover had worn off, but exhaustion was rapidly replacing it. Also, hunger was making a return. I straightened my desk and put my files into the outbox, for Sandy to file, and headed out the door.

I took the same route home that I had the previous night. This time, however, I ignored the bar and drove straight past. I had absolutely no desire to repeat my mistakes of yesterday.

I pulled into the driveway, parked the car, and headed for the house, slowing down only to pick up the morning newspaper that I had neglected when I left. The first thing I wanted was something to eat. I rummaged through the freezer, checking different items. I am not much of a cook; thankfully, Mary had thought to buy a few TV dinners. I chose one, followed the instructions, and popped it into the microwave. Then I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a little of the dog that had bitten me. Popping the top of the beer, I took a long swig and settled down in front of my computer.

Chapter Four – More Temptation

As the screen came up, I thought of Mary and how I might best explain what I had done the night before. I tried to convince myself that I had really done nothing wrong. It was just a harmless evening out. I checked my email and still no message from Mary. I had the usual junk mail, telling me how to enlarge my penis and those inviting me to view their webcams. Those I deleted without opening. There was one address that I did not recognize. The title line simply read, "Just to let you know what you missed out on." I opened it, and there was no message, just an attachment. I asked the computer to scan for viruses, and when none were found, I opened the attachment. There in all her splendid glory stood Ellen, stark naked except for a pair of black leather heels. I am sure my jaw dropped about six inches. At the same time, another part of my anatomy began to rise. Typically, women are better looking with clothes on, but not Ellen. Everything that I had imagined the night before was now in plain view. I know I should have deleted that picture, but I just couldn't destroy anything that beautiful. Instead, I right-clicked and saved the image to my documents. I started to delete the email address but could not bring myself to do that either.

I had been so engrossed in that picture that I had not heard the microwave end. The smell of food did bring me to my senses. I closed the screen and went to the kitchen for nourishment and another beer. As I ate, I wondered how Ellen had managed to get my email address. It was a screen name, and I know that I had not given it to her the night before. For some reason, goosebumps began to stand up on the back of my neck.

I went to the kitchen and got my food. Returning to my chair, I couldn't help but worry about Mary. It just was not like her not to check and answer her email. I thought about calling, but then if nothing was wrong, I did not want to appear to be a worrywart.

The rest of the evening was spent with one eye on the TV and the other watching for the (you have mail logo) to come up on the computer. Finally, by the time the 10 o'clock news came on, I was ready to end this day. Mary would have to wait until tomorrow.

The night went by with dreams of smoky rooms, dark eyes, soft skin, and Mary watching it all. Several times I woke up in a cold sweat, and it took me some time to return to sleep. It was almost a relief when the alarm finally sounded to awaken me to a new and hopefully, a better day.

After brushing my teeth, I went to the kitchen to start the coffee. Opening the front door, I found that the newspaper boy had once again forgotten to leave the paper. "Oh, great," I thought. "What a way to start the day."

I made a couple of pieces of toast, grabbed a cup of coffee, and sat down in front of the computer. Clicking the internet logo, I was hoping that Mary had sent me an early morning message. She had been gone for less than a week, but it felt more like a month. Oh well, it would only be a few more days before she returned. I clicked into my email, and to my pleasant surprise, there was a message from my loving wife. As I opened it, a strange premonition came over me. "Odd," I thought. "All I have done for the past 24 hours is wait for her to write, and now I am afraid to read what she has to say."

"Hi, love," she started. "Sorry about not writing sooner, but Sis and I have been having so much fun that I haven't had much chance. You know there are a thousand good-looking guys here. So many men, so little time. Don't get yourself in a tizzy. I was only kidding. See you on Saturday. Love, Mary."

"Ok," I thought. "Two can play at this game." "Well, I am glad that you are having fun. Good-looking women are not exactly few and far between here. I do miss you, though. Can't wait until Saturday. Love ya, later."

I finished getting ready for work, and this time I made sure that I shaved. On the way to work, I stopped at a convenience store and picked up the morning paper. I knew that I should call the paper and report the paperboy, but I did not want anything to ruin this day. Mary was all right, and in a few days, we would be together again.

Chapter Five – Could It Be a Sign

As I drove, a few drops of rain began to fall. I hoped that it held up long enough for me to get inside my office. I never carried an umbrella, a fact that had caused me many a wet shirt. I checked the clouds and noticed that most of the sky was blue. It seemed that the only cloud in the sky was directly overhead. "Strange weather," I thought. I was only a few minutes from the office, so I was confident that I would make it inside without getting wet. As I pulled into the parking lot, the cloud ruptured. The rain was coming down in buckets. It was the weirdest thing that I had ever seen. All around me was bright sunshine, but directly overhead was the most prominent, the darkest cloud you could imagine. It was surreal. I tried waiting it out. Surely it would have to move away from me sooner or later. After about five minutes, I finally gave up, opened the car door, and made a dash for the building.

As I entered the office, Sandy looked up at me. I was dripping all over the floor. The look on her face told me that I was sopping wet.

"What happened, did you run through the sprinkler," she asked.

"No, it was the strangest thing. There was only one cloud in the sky, but it seemed to follow me."

I could tell that she thought I had lost my mind. She got up and looked out the window. Turning to me, she said, "Nothing but bright sunshine. Have you somehow managed to make the Gods angry?"

Maybe that was it, I thought. Maybe God was punishing me for the other night. After all, I did do some pretty stupid things. But I had not really cheated. Nothing had happened. In the back of my mind, I did recall a scripture from the Bible, "Any man that keeps looking at a woman, until he has a passion for her, has already committed adultery in his heart."

Sandy's voice jolted me out of my thoughts, "Here, maybe this will help you dry off." She held out a roll of paper towels.

"Thanks," I said. "I guess I should have brought a change of clothes." Isn't it amazing how you can be in such a good mood one minute and the next it is gone?

"Do I have any appointments this morning?" I asked her.

"You have two interviews starting at 11. Listen, I have a coat in the closet, and there is a Laundromat across the street. Why not get out of those wet clothes, slip on my coat, and I'll take your clothes over there and run them through the dryer."

"Well, I guess I don't have much choice. I certainly can't sit around in wet clothes all day. And it wouldn't make much of an impression on prospective employees if they saw me this way."

Sandy got her coat and waited in the outer office while I slipped out of my clothes. I opened the door a crack and slipped the clothes through the door.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Anderson, I have seen a man wearing a coat before."

"Yeah, but you have never seen me wearing a woman's coat," I replied.

"Men," she said as she took the clothes from me.

How can a day start so well and turn out so badly?"

While I waited for Sandy to return, I busied myself with the morning's email. The phone rang several times before I realized that nobody else was there to answer it. You never realize how valuable a woman is until they are not around. The phone rang again, and this time I answered it. "Bill Anderson, how may I help you?"

"Bill, this is Jack. I missed you at the bar last night. I was hoping you would stop in again. I can't afford to lose one of the few customers I have."

"Sorry about that, but I learned my lesson the other night. A grown man should do that every once in a while just to remind him that he really shouldn't."

"That bad, huh? I guess when you get older, it hits you a little harder. Well, if you change your mind, you are always welcome."

As I hung up the phone, I was feeling a little aggravated. How dare he insinuate that I was too old to hold my liquor? Or was he just throwing out a challenge? It really didn't matter; I had no intention of repeating the fiasco of two nights ago.

Just then, I heard a knock on the door. "Mr. Anderson, I have your clothes. Do you want to hide behind the door again while I hand them in?"

"Bring them in. I am sure you are dying to see me in your coat."

As Sandy came in, she told me that she had run the clothes through the air-dry cycle. It takes a little longer, but they come out without wrinkles.

"Listen, Sandy, thanks a lot. I owe you a big one."

"Oh, how big?" she asked with a broad grin on her face.

That was as close to flirting as my young secretary had ever done in my presence. I had always appreciated her hard work and professional attitude. I was taken off guard for a few minutes. And then the mood passed, and she had returned to her desk.

The time passed, and soon, my first interview had arrived. He had previously filled out an application, and I gave him some company information to look over while I studied his app. He appeared to be in his early twenties, although we are not allowed to ask. I did make sure that he had checked the box (are you at least 18 years of age), yes. The vast amount of his job experience had been in the telemarketing field.

I allowed him to ask questions about the position. This usually tells me if the candidate is genuinely interested in the company or if it is just another job. He asked the usual ones, pay, hours, benefits, etc. As I talked to him, I noticed that he did not always look directly at me when he answered. This always makes me nervous, wondering what the person may be hiding. As we got into his job history, I found out that he had usually made quotas, but he did not stay with one company for very long. I finished the interview, making a mental note that telemarketers typically do not do well in face-to-face sales. I extended my hand, gave him the (we will be in touch) speech, and showed him the door. I made several notes in his file and put it in the out tray for Sandy to file.

The second interview was with a middle-aged woman. She came in immaculately dressed in a business suit and conservative makeup. An hour later, the meeting was over, and we had a new salesperson to add to the company roster.

My stomach now told me that it was time for lunch. I picked up my newspaper, tucked it under my arm, and started for the door. Eating alone in a restaurant without a newspaper is an awkward situation at best. There is no one to talk to. What are you supposed to do, play video games on your phone? But with a paper, you have something to occupy your time while you are waiting for your food. The other advantage is that you don't appear as if you have been stood up. Have you ever noticed that most people that eat alone seem to be always looking around as if they expect someone to join them?

As I passed her desk, I told Sandy that I was going to lunch and asked her if she needed me to pick up anything for her while I was out.

"How about something, tall, strong and handsome," she replied flippantly.

"I think your husband might object to that," I replied. "And besides, I already work here."

As I walked out, I was amazed that I had actually said that. In this day of sexual harassment, even that small comment could be construed as a come on. It seems to me that all the fun has been taken out of the workplace.

I entered the restaurant and requested one for non-smoking. It only took a few minutes before they showed me to my table. I already knew what I wanted, so I ordered a turkey club sandwich with a glass of ice tea. My wife chides me from time to time because I rarely change my order. Maybe Jack was wrong. Perhaps I could eat the same thing every meal for the rest of my life.

It is funny how some things and some people stick in your mind. I began to wonder if I had ordered that particular sandwich, just to prove him wrong.

While I waited for my order to arrive, I opened the paper to the sports section. The Yankees had won again and were poised to win the American League East. What a surprise. The best team money can buy always seems to win. I have followed them ever since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I know that many people do not like them because of their owner, but my loyalties are hard to change.

I flipped through to the financial pages. The stock market is down again. My 401K would take another hit. Good thing I am not ready to retire. I have taken a real bath in the last couple of years. But everyone says that if you stay in long enough, you will make money. I hope they are right.

The food arrived, and I ate as I read. Unlike yesterday I was ravenous. I savored the sandwich and washed it down with tea.

Chapter Six – A Strange Invitation

For some reason, as I left the restaurant, I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched. I looked around to see if I could recognize anyone. No one seemed to be familiar or was paying any attention to me. My mind was playing tricks on me.

As I reached my office door, I heard the sound of feminine laughter. Sandy usually took her lunch with a couple of other women from the building, but they were particularly raucous today. As I walked in, I noticed them all gathered around her desk.

"Well, you ladies seem to be having a good time. If I am allowed to ask what it is, that is so amusing?" As I said that I noticed a strange box on Sandy's desk. It had flashing lights and strange sounds emitted from it. "What is that thing," I asked.

"It is a wishing box," answered Sandy. "Something like the old answer cubes we had when we were kids. You know the ones that you asked a question and shook it up, and it would give you a yes or no answer. This is a little different in that you make a wish, and it tells you whether it will come true or not. The instructions say that it contacts the spirits."

"That is a little too creepy for me. Where did it come from?"

"A man dropped it off along with an envelope for you. I left the envelope on your desk."

As I headed for my office, the girls started to laugh and joke again. A cold chill started at the back of my neck and made its way down my spine.

Walking directly to my desk, the first thing that I noticed was the envelope. This wasn't the 30 for a dollar variety that I buy for the office. It had little angels pressed into the paper and was gold embossed around the edges. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. William Anderson. I opened it carefully as if it would be a sacrilege to tear something that expensive. I extracted the card and noticed that it was also costly and beautiful. It read, "Mr. and Mrs. Jonathon Carrington would be honored by your presence at a party on the 25th of this month." It gave the address and a phone number to call for directions.

"What in the world," I thought. Yes, I knew who the Carrington's were. Everyone knows who they are. But few people actually knew them. And I had never met them in my life. I didn't travel in the same circles as the ultra-rich. I am not much of a party person in any regard. Besides, this must be some kind of a prank. Somebody must be playing a practical joke on me. I show up and look like a fool. I put the card back in the envelope and dropped it in my wastebasket.

I tried to concentrate on my work, but for some reason, I kept being drawn back to that card. I picked it out of the basket and looked at it again. It seemed to me that if it were a joke, someone had gone to considerable expense to play it.

With the envelope in hand, I went to the outside office. "Sandy, who was it that dropped this card off."

"Just some man," she answered. "I really didn't pay much attention to him."

"Yeah, right," I said. "You are the most perceptive woman I know. What did he look like?"

"Honestly," she said thoughtfully. She looked at me, and a curious look came over her face. "I don't know why, but looking back, he was here, but he wasn't. Have you ever seen one of those movies where people get caught in a time warp? Well, it was kind of like that. He came in and handed me the game and the card without me even giving him a second thought. Strange, huh?"

I started to return to my office, but Sandy interrupted me, "What was in the card?"

"An invitation to a party at the Carrington's. Of course, I am not going. In fact, I think it must have been a prank. I don't even know them."

"Not, going? Mary will kill you. You know how excited she gets at just the thought of a party. If you're afraid it is a joke, give me the card. I will make a few calls for you. No guts, no glory."

"Ok, knock yourself out," and I handed the card to her.

Chapter Seven – The Reunion

The rest of the week passed without incident. There were no more strange emails, phone calls, or rainstorms. Before I knew it, Saturday had arrived, and I headed to the airport to pick up my loving wife. The drive to the airport was a short one, and the traffic was light. I thought about the advantages of living in a smaller city. No wall-to-wall cars on the freeways and no waiting 10 minutes just to get on. I had planned for about a forty-five-minute drive, but I made it easily in thirty. The extra time was not wasted, however. Because of 9-11, airport security makes it impossible to park anywhere near the terminal. In fact, the closest lot was full, so I ended up with quite a long walk. I thought about waiting until Marys' flight would be in and calling her on her cell phone and telling her that I would meet her outside of the baggage claim. But, then I know how much luggage Mary takes even on a short visit. I figured she would need my help getting it. So I parked and began to walk towards the terminal.

It was a beautiful sunny day. Even so, I looked carefully up towards the sky, hoping that the black cloud would not suddenly appear. I crossed the street carefully and entered the terminal. Herds of people were milling about. Some of them were heading towards the ticket counters, some rushing towards the gates and others just standing against the walls. I filtered through the crowd and found a display that gives the times of arrivals and departures. Since the flights are not in alphabetical order, I always have trouble finding the one I am looking for. After a few minutes of scanning, I finally found Marys' flight. The board said that it had arrived and was at gate 12.

I have flown with Mary enough to know that she is usually the last one off the plane. So I figured I could make the gate before she debarked. I started down the corridor towards the gates. About halfway down, there was a security checkpoint with a sign that read "ticketed passengers only beyond this point." Two armed military personnel stood guard as airport security checked tickets and ID before allowing the passengers to proceed to the metal detectors. It looked like I would have to wait here for Mary to come to me.

I found a place against the wall out of the way of traffic and settled back to wait. I observed the passengers coming and going. I knew that I would know well in advance of Marys' approach. All I would have to do is watch the male passengers. When Mary got close, they would be craning their heads to get a better look at her. It is not only her natural beauty that causes this phenomenon. She exudes sexuality. Even men that are with gorgeous women cannot help but look. It is as if she is a powerful magnet, and they have eyes of steel. No matter how hard they try not to look her way, they are drawn by force towards her. I had often wondered how many men had received a severe tongue lashing just because they happened to be in the wrong place with their significant others when Mary walked by.

As I was musing, I heard a commotion somewhere down the ramp. I had to lean forward to see what was happening. When I did, I saw a man with a wheelchair. He had apparently stopped for some reason, and two men had run into him. There was no doubt in my mind why he had stopped or why they had not seen him. I began to look for Mary's blond head immediately. There she was coming up the ramp. She was wearing a sleeveless white shirt, white shorts, and white sandals with a conservative three-inch heel. The shorts looked like they had been painted on her body. Both the shirt and shorts molded themselves to her body so that those areas that are supposed to bulge out were accentuated. And if you looked closely, those areas that went in were visible as well.

Male eyes followed her every move up the ramp. There is an old saying that goes something like, "if you've got it, flaunt it." Mary had it, and she loved to flaunt it. And if the truth was known, I got a great kick out of the devastation she wrecked on the male species. I stood back against the wall, in no hurry to interrupt her parade. Finally, her eyes met mine, and a huge smile beamed across her face. I don't know if that was caused by just seeing me or if she realized that I had been watching her.

Having been discovered, I pushed away from the wall and hurried towards her. Her hands were empty, except for her purse, and she rushed into my arms. As our bodies meshed, our lips came together and locked. An electric shock shot through my body. Not so much of passion, although I definitely felt signs of arousal. It was more like God had created this woman, especially for me, and I felt like I was in Heaven. We finally broke away from one another and clasped hands and began our journey to the baggage claim area. As we strolled together, we must have appeared to be newlyweds starting out on our honeymoon.

As we waited for the carousel to start to turn, I listened to Mary as she happily told me about her visit with her sister. It wasn't so much that I was held spellbound by the things she said. It was more because I was mesmerized by the sound of her voice. Perhaps when we first met, I was as drawn to the soothing tone of her voice as I was by her intelligence and beauty. As she spun her narrative, we continued to hold hands, releasing them only when one of us spotted a piece of her luggage and then only long enough to drag the bag to the airport floor.

Finally, we had managed to recover all five pieces of her luggage. She had only been gone for a week, and I marveled at how much baggage a woman needs for a few days. If I leave for a week, I take one folding clothes bag. I tucked a small bag under my arm and picked up two others with my hands, leaving the remaining two for Mary. Fortunately, it was only a short distance to the curb. Reluctantly I left Mary to guard the luggage and headed back to the parking area for the car. One good thing about the heightened security at airports is that few criminals hang out there now. I did wonder how safe male drivers would be with Mary standing that close to the curb.

I retrieved the car and pulled up next to the curb where Mary stood. It took only a few minutes to cram her suitcases into the car and start for home. On the way, I asked if she would like to stop and get something to eat on the way home.

"No, I do not want to share you with a waitress today."

I caught her innuendo and tapped the accelerator closer to the floor. The rest of the short drive occurred in silence. Both of us were absorbed in our own thoughts. Mine was on the extreme possibility that Mary wanted me to make love to her.

Chapter Eight – A Hot Homecoming

Turning into the driveway, I pushed the garage door opener and timed my arrival so that I glided in just as it fully opened. As I got out and lowered the door, I spoke to Mary, "What do you say that we leave the luggage and get it later?"

"No, you better bring it in. There are things I need in the bags, and you might forget it later." She then moved off towards the kitchen door.

I was stunned that she had left all the bags for me to bring in. In fact, I felt a little agitated. Oh well, I could either become angry or get over it. And I figured that wrath would not get me what I wanted, so I busied myself and brought the bags in as quickly as I could. I moved the last bag into the dining area and went to look for Mary. I did not need to be much of a tracker to follow her trail. I found one white sandal at the foot of the stairs, the other on the landing. At the top of the stairs thrown haphazardly in the hall was her top. Her shorts lay on the carpet in front of the bedroom door. Apparently, she had not been wearing a bra or panties because when I opened the door and entered the bedroom, she waited for me on our king-sized bed completed unadorned.

"What are you waiting for, cowboy?" she asked. "You have way too many clothes on."

"Don't rush me," I said with a quiver in my voice. "I am just admiring the view."

Mary rose seductively from the bed. She crossed the room towards me slowly: her hips doing an accentuated sway. As she reached me, she spun me 180 degrees. With her breasts firmly placed against my chest, she began walking me backward. As my knees struck the edge of the bed, she gave me a gentle push so that I landed on my back in the middle of the mattress.

She knelt down and began to strip my shoes from my feet. I started at the top. Now four hands were tearing frantically at my clothes. I was completely nude in less than 30 seconds. Mary waited just long enough for me to scoot up so that my legs were on the bed with the rest of me before joining me on the bed. With each of her knees on either side of my hips, she reached down, grabbed my penis, and guided it into her. With no preliminaries, she forced herself downward, impaling me all the way to my pubic hair.

As her body began to do a slow circular grind, I reached up and attempted to pull her down on top of me. Mary, however, resisted allowing me only to move her upper torso enough so that I could find her breast with my mouth. As I sucked, nibbled and tongued her nipple, I heard her let out a low moan and felt her body quicken its pace without ever raising as much as an inch off of me. Then without warning, her body rose and came crashing back down, her pelvis striking against mine. Pain mixed with pleasure, and I could hold out no longer. Like the high tide rushing towards the shore, my release came. Wave after wave crashed against the silky sand and at some point, I heard a high-pitched scream. Even today I am not sure which one of us uttered it.

Entirely spent, I fell back against the mattress, and Mary collapsed on top of me. We lay there for a long time, neither wanting to break the spell with words. Eventually, Mary rolled off of me and lay next to me on her side. I turned towards her and drew her head to my chest. And still, we did not speak. Once I had recovered so that my mind would work again, I began to marvel at what had just happened. I could not remember Mary ever exhibiting so much urgency in the past. Even our first time had not had the passion and indeed not the violence of this lovemaking. In actuality, I should not call it lovemaking. It was more like two animals in heat. As I mused, I allowed my left hand to massage her shoulders gently. I moved my hand lower to the small of her back and then to the tops of her hips. I felt my body begin to recover and grow again. Mary slid up, and our lips met.

We then made love, slowly and in control.

Later, basking in the afterglow, we lay together in silence. I knew that I needed to talk with Mary about that night at the bar, but I was at a loss as to how to broach the subject. Finally, Mary broke the silence.

"Ok, Superman, what are you so deep in thought about."

"Oh, so you think that I am superman?" I asked.

Mary wrinkled her brow as if she was deep in thought. "Or was it Clark Kent?" she asked with a big grin on her face. "Come to think of it; your steel rod did melt."

Maybe this was the opening I had been waiting for. "Ok, have you ever fantasized about having sex with Superman or, for that matter, any other man?"

Chapter Nine – Some Questions Should Not Be Asked

"Oh, no, you don't. You don't want to go there. No matter how I answer that question, you are going to think I am lying to protect your feelings, or you are going to have your feelings hurt."

I knew she was right because feelings of jealousy were already starting to grow within me. The mere fact that she had not immediately said no caused me high anxiety. But for some reason, I could not help but press the point. I guess it is like getting into a confrontation with a schoolyard bully. At some point, he tells you that if you say another word, he is going to blacken both of your eyes. But you just can't back down, and pretty quick one or both of you have a bloody nose. And so I pressed on without further thought to the consequences.

"No, I really want to know," I pleaded.

Mary took a long time to answer as if she was choosing her words carefully. "You know that I love you dearly, and our sex life is fantastic, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like with a movie star or bodybuilder. Somebody said something that I just passed over at the time, but it might be a perfect answer to your question. You know how much I love filet mignon, but no matter how well it is prepared, I might not want it for every meal for the rest of my life. Does that make sense?"

I felt like I had been struck by a two by four. "You said somebody told that saying to you. What did the guy look like?"

"Actually, it wasn't a guy. It was a young woman that Sis and I met at a party last Tuesday night. We had a few drinks, and somehow the subject got turned to our sex lives. I said that I was perfectly happy with our sex life the way it was, but she interjected with that comparison. For some reason, it stuck in my mind."

I lay there in total silence. Tuesday night was the same night I had stopped off at the bar. Pretty eerie that both of us would encounter the same exact words, on the same night, thousands of miles apart. Mary misinterpreted my silence to mean that I was upset by her response.

"See, I knew that you would be hurt by that conversation. I should have refused to get drawn into that question."

"Oh, no," I replied. "I was just thinking about that particular wording. I have heard something similar sometime in the past." For some reason, I did not want to tell her that it had been Tuesday at the bar. I would find another time to raise that subject.

I suppose at this point I should back up and tell you a little something about Mary. What just happened was totally out of character for her. Although she loves to show off for men, she is anything but aggressive when it comes to actual sex. In fact, usually, it takes quite a bit of foreplay to get her in the mood. So you can understand my confusion. Is this a new side to her, or is it something she has always wanted to do and has suppressed it. If it is the former, what started it? If it is the latter, what awakened it in her? I was awakened from my thoughts by Mary's voice.

"Ok, big guy," what are you thinking about. "You are so far away that I may have to take another airplane flight just to reach you."

"Sorry, I was just thinking about how fantastic you were today. That was the most incredible experience I have ever had."

"You must have led a very sheltered life. Plain old sex with your frumpy wife puts you into a trance."

"You must be thinking of some other woman. You are an exceptionally beautiful woman. And your body can do unbelievable things. I read a book once where a deranged man killed women because they were not perfect. You would have been completely safe with him."

"Ah, how sweet. What do you say we get something to eat? All of a sudden, I am starved."

"What did you have in mind, filet mignon," I asked.

"No, I was thinking more along the line of ordering a pizza."

"Good idea," I said. "I'll make the call."

I went downstairs, picked up the telephone, and called for a pizza to be delivered. On being told that it would take 30 minutes, I headed upstairs to take a shower, figuring I would have plenty of time before the pizza arrived. I turned on the water and allowed the bathroom to start to steam up before climbing in. As the hot water washed over my body, I thought how lucky I was. Many men had more in the way of material things, but I had Mary. So, in fact, I was richer than any other man on earth.

I was still musing about what a lucky guy I was when I heard the doorbell ring. Admittedly I had not been in the shower for over half an hour. I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. I tried to get as much water off of me as possible and then slipped on a shirt and shorts. Making sure that I had my wallet, I hurried down the stairs hoping the deliveryman would wait. As I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed that Mary had already answered the door. I was, however, shocked to see that she was wearing nothing more than one of my old tee shirts. It barely covered her bottom and hid absolutely nothing of her figure. Looking past Mary, I could see a young man with a pizza in his hand, shock on his face and I am sure a lump in his pants.

Chapter Ten – Stupidity Wins Out

As I stood there, shock and dismay gave way to anger and jealousy. What is wrong with this woman? Doesn't she realize how many women are raped in this country every day? It is one thing to show off for men when you are in a crowd, but to do so, one on one is carrying it a little too far.

I hurried down the stairs and arrived just as Mary was closing the door. As she turned to me, I barked, "What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"

Marys' face showed a total shock. I don't remember when I have spoken to her in such a tone of voice. I was feeling remorse when she finally spoke. "Lost my mind? No, I may have misplaced it. I am sure it is around here somewhere. Given a little time, I am sure I can find it." At that point, her face changed from shock to anger. I knew all hell was about to break loose, and I physically backed up a few steps. "Now, what in the hell is wrong with you?" she asked with veins popping out on her forehead.

I knew that I should choose my words carefully, but tact is not one of my strong suits. "It is one thing to show off for men in public, but the world is far too dangerous to answer the door at your own house dressed like that. Do you realize how many rapists are running loose in this city?"

"No, how many?" she shot back. "Let me get this straight; it is alright for me to show my ass to every man on the street. I notice you get quite a kick out of that. But if I answer the door wearing a tee-shirt, I am some kind of a slut? Here, I hope you enjoy your pizza." And with that, she threw it at me, turned on her heel and stormed upstairs.

Fortunately, I was a former baseball player, and I managed to catch it. I may have lost my curveball, but I still have pretty good reflexes. If only my diplomacy were as good. I sat the pizza down on the counter. At least for the moment, I had lost my appetite.

I sat down in my chair and put my head in my hands. What in the world is wrong with me? I haven't had an argument with Mary in months, and now the first day she is back, I go ballistic. I'm sure you know what I am talking about. Everything is going along well. And for no good reason, I push the self-destruct button. It seems like sometimes I just can't stand prosperity and I have to grab defeat out of the jaws of victory.

I knew that I had to try to apologize, but knowing me, I would just make things worse. Instead, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television set. I started flicking through the channels. Isn't it amazing, I have over 100 channels, and there is nothing to watch? I saw some so-called comedy series that were not funny, reality shows that were as far from reality as possible and news programs that talked about everything but the news. I finally gave up, turned off the set and went to fix a stiff drink for courage. As I passed the phone on the way to the kitchen, I notice the in-use light was on. I figured Mary was talking to her sister and telling her what an ass she had married.

I pulled a tall glass out of the cupboard, thought about adding ice, but decided straight bourbon was called for in my condition. As I sipped my drink, I paced the floor in front of the downstairs phone. I observed so that when the in-use light went out, I would know. I would then go upstairs, get on my knees and beg Mary's forgiveness. I don't know how many drinks I had, but at some point, I must have laid down on the sofa, because that is where I woke up the next morning. Have you ever heard the song, "Sunday Morning Coming Down?" Well, almost everything in that song is how I felt. Since all my clean clothes were in my bedroom, I literally had to wear my cleanest dirty shirt.

I fixed a pot of coffee and hoped that the smell might bring Mary out of her room. I really needed to brush my teeth and take a shower. There was another shower in the guest bathroom, but no toothbrush. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and finally found a well-used tube of toothpaste. I rolled the tube as tightly as possible and squeezed a little onto my index finger and used that as a makeshift toothbrush. I found a towel under the sink and turned on the shower. Hopefully, the hot water and soap would wash away my stupidity.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I headed for the kitchen and much-needed coffee. I hoped that Mary would be sitting at the table waiting for me, but no such luck. I drank two cups of coffee, put on last night's clothes, and decided that the frugal thing to do would be to go to Wal-Mart to get the things I would need for at least two days of siege.

As I entered the store, I could feel a thousand pairs of eyes on me. I am sure they thought that I was a derelict, a homeless person, or a poorly dressed shoplifter. I am positive that store security officers followed me the entire time that I was in the store. I made my purchases, two sets of clothes, shaving gear, a toothbrush, and toothpaste, paid for my items, and exited as quickly as possible. The greeter at the door eyed me suspiciously as I left.

Chapter Eleven – The Explanation

When I returned home, the first thing I noticed was that Mary's car was gone. Well, at least I would be able to get some stuff out of the bedroom. I entered the house and looked for any sign that she had left me a note, but none magically appeared. I went to the bedroom and pulled a couple more sets of clothes out of the closet, as well as a casual set for today.

I spent the rest of the day watching television and worrying. I wasn't so much worried about Mary. I knew she would return after she had allowed me to be miserable for a substantial period of time. I was, however, concerned that it would take a long time for her to forgive me.

After suffering through a day of remorse and agonizing over how I was ever going to make things right with Mary, I heard the doorbell ring. I could not fathom who would be coming to my house, and I hurried to the door expecting to see a police officer or some other public servant coming to give me the bad news. What I did see instead was a woman dressed in what looked like a black dress that middle-eastern women or a nun might wear. She had a veil pulled across her mouth so that the only revealing feature was her eyes. But those eyes were unmistakable. It was Mary. I knew this was her way of making a point. I also knew that I had two choices. I could say something idiotic which would start the argument all over again, or I could break out in hysterical laughter. Come to think of it, I really had no choice at all. I started laughing so hard that speech was not even an option. When I recovered enough so that I could move, I allowed Mary to pass me and enter the house.

"So is this dress better?" she asked.

"Well, to tell you the truth, there is one thing missing," I said. "Shouldn't there be a little dot on your forehead to show that you are owned by a man?"

"In your dreams," she snapped back.

"Whoa, wild woman," I joked. "Your humble slave begs your pardon."

"Now that is more like it," Mary said as a huge smile spread across her face.

"Would her ladyship allow me to escort her to dinner?" I asked.

"Food, isn't that where this whole thing started?" she asked.

"No, this whole thing started with my stupidity," I said. "We really need to talk, but I figure we can do that over dinner if that sounds alright to you."

"Well, ok, but I think I should change. This dress is sweltering. I don't know how women stand to wear something like this all the time." With that, she opened the dress and let it fall off her shoulders to the floor. Underneath, she wore a pair of white shorts, a casual shirt, and white low-heeled sandals.

We chose a restaurant, a short drive from home. As we drove, I thought of what I would tell Mary and how much, if anything to hold back. I did not want to get into a situation where what I would say might lead me into a lie. I was still thinking about it as we entered the restaurant. Fortunately, they were not very busy, and we were seated right away. We ordered appetizers and drinks. I picked up the menu and pretended to read it. Even though I knew what I was going to order, I used the menu as an excuse not to start the conversation. Mary, however, knew me too well.

"Ok, what is going on? You have been acting strangely ever since we got home from the airport."

"I am sorry," I replied. "So many strange things happened to me while you were gone that I guess I am a bit paranoid."

"Strange things?" she asked. "Strange in what way?"

I then told her about stopping at the bar on the way home. That in and of itself was strange. Mary thought so too.

"Well, I agree that your stopping at a bar on the way home is strange. I don't think you have been in a bar without me since we have been married. Why that bar, and why that particular night?"

"I guess I was not really looking forward to going home to an empty house. And then, on the way home, I saw a flashing Budweiser sign, and I just couldn't resist. For whatever reason, I had to stop. I can't explain it, but even when I saw that the parking lot was empty, I still had to go inside. Have you ever had anything like that happen to you?"

"You mean like someone outside of your body was controlling you, compelling you to do something you normally wouldn't?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I never felt that I had lost my free will. It was more like I was being led to do things that deep down I might have wanted."

"I think I understand. Something similar happened to me while I was on vacation. But before I tell you about it, I want to hear the rest of your story."

Mary listened intently as I told her about meeting Jack. When I told her how he had come up and introduced himself as if we were old friends, she interrupted me.

"And you are sure; you had never met him before?" Mary asked.

"He was not the type of man that you would easily forget. I had never laid eyes on him before."

"What do you mean that you couldn't have forgotten him?" Mary asked.

"It wasn't so much his build or facial expressions that stood out. It was his eyes. They held your attention as they looked straight into your mind. And they were blacker than coal. If you had ever looked into those eyes, you would remember them." As I described him to Mary, her face turned pale, and I noticed her hands starting to shake slightly.

"What is the matter," I asked. "You look like you have just seen a ghost."

"Or had one described to me," she replied. Her voice was low and unsteady as if she was afraid someone might be listening. "Please go on with your story."

"Well, it was Jack that uttered the line about not eating the same food for the rest of my life. And then he pointed out a woman across the room. It was almost as if he wanted me to meet her. Shortly afterward, she came up and introduced herself to me as an old high school friend. Again, she knew things about me that led me to believe that she was who she said she was. But it was just too much of a coincidence. Meeting someone two thousand miles away from school and on the one night that I happened to stop for a drink. Things like that don't really happen in real life."

"Did you remember her?" Mary inquired. "What was her name?"

"Ellen Sanchez, she told me. But I don't remember anyone by that name. And I don't remember anyone that looked like her in school. She explained that by telling me she was a couple of grades behind me and that she was a late bloomer."

"And how did her petals look to you that night?" Mary asked with just a hint of a smile.

"If you are asking if she is attractive, she is. She is probably one of the best-looking women I have ever seen. Luckily, I am married to the most attractive woman in the world."

"So, you weren't tempted in the least?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that. After all, I am a mere mortal. I was just strong enough not to act on the temptation. As I mentioned before, I never felt that I did not have control over what I did that night."

Just then, the waitress brought our drinks and salads, giving me a little respite from continuing with my story. As I picked through the lettuce and vegetables, I wondered what Mary meant when she said something similar had happened to her.

As we ate, I continued to tell her about Ellen Sanchez and how she had tried to seduce me that night. At times Mary's face showed concern and maybe disbelief but never anger.

As I was paying the check, Mary spoke to me. "What do you say we take a run by that bar before we go home? I would like to meet this, Jack."

As we drove, I tried to ask Mary about what happened to her on her visit to her sisters, but she put me off saying that we would talk about it when we got home. I pulled onto the main street to the bar, but I saw no blinking sign. In fact, I couldn't even find the building. The parking lot was empty as it had been on Tuesday night, but there was no building. Mary looked at me with a blank expression. I looked around to make sure that I was in the right place. Was it possible that I had come to the wrong location? N, I was sure this is where the bar had been a few short days before.

Chapter Twelve – Where is That Bar?

"Ok, why are we here," inquired Mary. "Aren't we a little old to go parking in an empty lot?"

"I know this sounds crazy, but there was a bar here?"

"Are you sure? This lot looks like it has been empty for a long time. I saw a bar back down the block a ways. Is it possible that you had a little more to drink than you thought and got the lot confused?

"Mary, I am telling you this is where I stopped that night. There is a convenience store across the street. I am going to go over there and ask what happened to this bar."

As I got out of the car, Mary exited her side as well. Walking side by side, we crossed the street. We entered the convenience store and approached the counter.

"Can I help you?" asked the clerk.

"I was just wondering," I replied. "What happened to the bar across the street?"

"I really couldn't say," he answered. "I have only been working here for the past two months. That lot has been empty for that time."

I wanted to disagree with him, but I was afraid he would think I was a raving lunatic and call the funny squad. As we left, I looked at Mary to see if she thought that I was crazy as well. Her face was hard to read, but I could tell she was deep in thought.

"Do you think I am losing my mind?" I asked her.

"No, I think that you are confused, or maybe you dreamed that you stopped at a bar on the way home. Sometimes dreams can be very real."

I was silent on the way home. I knew that it had not been a dream or a hallucination. But how could I convince Mary? Maybe I would be better off to stop trying. After all, I could not have come close to adultery if nothing had happened except in my mind. But then Mary would always wonder if I had gone temporarily insane. I thought that I could show her Ellen's business card as proof, but then how would I explain to her why I had kept it? But I knew I had to show her something to back up my story. Reluctantly, I knew what that something had to be.

We entered the house, and as Mary made drinks, I fired up my laptop. Opening my email, I was relieved that Ellen's email had not magically disappeared. Mary brought me my drink, and before she could sit down, I showed her the email and attachment.

"Now, do you believe me?" I asked.

"I believe that a very beautiful woman is sending you nude pictures. But how does this back up your bar story?"

"Look at the date. It was sent early Wednesday morning. She alludes to the fact that we had been together Tuesday night."

"Yes, but it does not mention anything about a bar or that bar specifically."

"Why would I make up a story like this? Do you think that I want you to think I am hiding something? If I was, why tell you anything at all?"

"I really don't know what to think. We have always been completely honest with each other. The email seems to back up your story that something almost happened Tuesday night but that you turned it down. But how do you explain the empty lot? Bars just do not appear and then disappear. The clerk said that lot has been empty for at least two months."

"Mary, I know this sounds like I am a candidate for the Looney bin, but I know what happened."

Sunday night ended on a note of dismay and maybe distrust, but at least Mary and I were talking again.

I spent the night tossing, turning, and watching the clock. Try as I might, I could not get my mind to shut down so that I could go to sleep. At some point, my body must have overridden my mind because the alarm woke me from the best sleep that I had all night. Turning off the alarm as quickly as possible, I crawled out of bed, hoping not to wake Mary. I made my way downstairs and started the coffee pot. At least this morning, I did not have a hangover from alcohol, but my head felt like it was full of cobwebs from lack of sleep.

Two hours, several cups of coffee, and I was on my way to work. I made sure to go by the spot where Jack's place had been located, hoping that it was last night that I was dreaming. No such luck. Across from the convenience store was still an empty lot. Just for kicks, I pulled in hoping that in the daylight, I would be able to figure out what had happened here. I got out of the car and walked to where I knew the bar had been. All that was there was a concrete slab where a building once stood. Between the cracks of concrete, green grass was growing. I knew that could not have happened in such a short period of time. I was beginning to think that maybe I was going a bit crazy. Maybe I should check myself into a clinic for evaluation. I guess that is how I knew that I was not crazy. Lunatics always believe they are sane.

With no better idea than I had before I pulled in, I started my car and continued to the office. As I passed Sandy's desk, she stopped me.

"Good morning, Mr. Anderson. Here are a few phone messages for you. One of them was from a woman named Ellen. She wouldn't tell me what it was she wanted. She said you would have her phone number."

I could tell that Sandy was a little put-off. She took her job seriously and was not fond of people that would not share with her what they wanted with me. For some reason, I took a closer look at her than I normally would. Our dress code is business casual, but Sandy normally takes the casual to a whole new level, a lower level. But today she looked like she was here for a modeling assignment. Her hair was beautifully done, and she was dressed to the nines. "Do you have a lunch date?" I asked.

"No, for some reason, I just felt like dressing up today. It seems a shame to waste it, though. How about you taking me to lunch?"

"I am sorry. I don't think that is such a good idea. Your husband and my wife might get the wrong idea."

In my mind, I was sure that Mary would not understand at this particular time. For our entire marriage, we have completely trusted each other. But, after last night, Mary's faith in me might be a little thin. Without further conversation, I made my way into my office. Before sitting down, I pulled out my wallet and searched through it for Ellen's card. I had no intention of calling her, but for some reason, I had to make sure that the card was still there. It, the email and pictures was the only tangible connections that I had to last Tuesday night.

I spent the morning doing normal reports, answering emails, and creating sales plans. Time went by rapidly, and before I knew it, the morning was gone. I thought about going out to get something to eat, but I really didn't feel like leaving the office. Instead, I suggested to Sandy that she go to lunch and I would watch the phones.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

I reached into my wallet and handed her thirty dollars. "See if you can get one of your friends to go with you. Lunch is on me."

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Can I bring anything back for you?"

"No, just go and have a good time. Set the door chime when you leave so if someone comes in, I will know it. Take your time, I have nowhere I need to be."

Sandy thanked me again and got up to leave. Now I could see the rest of her. The skirt came just above the knees, and she wore black patent high heels. Certainly not the way she would normally dress for work. It made me wonder what she had up her sleeve. I had never looked at her, except as a very good secretary but today I watched her walk all the way to the door. Strange how closely you can work with somebody and not really know her. Sandy was a very attractive woman.

Chapter Thirteen – A Strange Conversation

After she left, I returned to my office and began looking at my personal email. There was another email from Ellen. With an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I opened the email. I half expected another nude picture or some plea for me to call her. I was surprised when I read what she had to say. "Bill, I know you think you have to be faithful to your wife, but are you sure she is faithful to you? Check out these pictures, and then maybe you might want to give me a call."

I checked to see if there was an attachment. I did not see the little paper clip symbol, so I scrolled down to the bottom of the page. There pasted to the main email, I found three pictures. Mary was in each one. Each of them showed her dancing with the same man. If they had not been of two fully clothed individuals, they could have been pornographic. There was no way that you could slide a paper clip between their bodies, except perhaps at their feet. In the third picture, Mary and her partner were locked in what looked to be a very passionate kiss. I knew that Mary wanted to talk to me about something, and I was going to give her that opportunity. But, if it did not happen soon, I would have to bring up the subject myself. Of course, she was not doing anything in these pictures that I had not done with Ellen. Still, a fit of jealousy started to boil up in my stomach. "Be careful, Bill," I said to myself. "You don't want a repeat of Saturday night."

Just then, the phone rang. I don't know how I knew, but I was not surprised to hear Jack's voice on the other end of the line.

"Bill, you seem to be a little confused lately."

At that point, I lost all sense of decorum. "Who the hell are you, and what are you trying to do to me?" I demanded.

"Now, now, Bill, there is no reason to be hostile. I am not trying to make you do anything that you don't want to do. You have always had free will. I didn't make you light that first cigarette or drink the first drink or make you dance with that beautiful dark-haired woman. You could have said no to any of those things."

I knew deep down that he was right. I had said as much to Mary when I confessed what had happened. Still, I felt that none of those things would have happened if the ideas were not put in my mind. "Look, I just want to be left alone. I don't know what you stand to gain from ruining my marriage, but it is not going to work. I am very much in love with my wife and her with me."

"What you say may well be true. If it is, you have nothing to fear from me. Ellen, however, is a different story. She seems quite taken with you and very determined to have you. Why not stop by the bar tonight, and we can talk about it."

"Bar, what bar. There is nothing there but an empty lot. The whole idea of Jack's place was just a figment of my imagination. Or perhaps a subliminal thought that you put in my mind."

"You are extremely wrong, Bill. Everything that happened to you was very real. As real as anything else you have encountered in your life. As real as the shoulder injury you sustained in college. As real as your marriage to Mary and as real as the rat that sits on top of the file cabinet behind you."

Instinctively I whirled around dropping the phone as I did so. Sure enough, a huge black rat sat staring at me from the top of my file cabinet. I backed up so fast that I almost fell over my chair. I was raised on a farm and knew that rats were not animals to mess with. But, when I regained my balance and looked again, the rat was gone. I had no reason to look for the pest. I would have no more success in finding it than I had in finding Jack's place a second time. I also knew that neither of them would reappear again unless Jack willed them to. For the first time, I acknowledged who Jack really was.

Now I am not what you would call a religious person. I do, however, believe in God. And if you believe in God, it is not too far a stretch to believe in Satan. I know that some religions teach that Satan is just a quality of evil that lives within each of us. The problem with that line of reasoning is that I remember Jesus was tempted three times by Satan. Jesus had no evil within him. While the rest of us humans probably all do have good and evil that resides within us, Jack, Satan, or Lucifer was a real entity. The question that I had to find the answer to was why he was visiting me. What did he want? I had no intention of selling my soul to the devil. And then a strange thought struck me. Flip Wilson would love this; "The devil made me do it." Now, how and what would I tell Mary?

I was so lost in thought that I did not hear the door chime. Sandy almost caused me to have a heart attack when she spoke from two feet behind me. "What in the world has been going on here? It looks like a cyclone has struck this office, and you are white as a sheet. Bill, are you all right?"

"Yes, Sandy, I am fine. Did you have a good lunch?" My voice cracked a little as I spoke, and Sandy noticed it as well.

"Bill, I don't think you are all right. Sweat is pouring off your forehead, and you can hardly talk. Should I call for an ambulance? You might be having a heart attack."

"Really, I am fine, but I think I will go home and lie down for a while. Will you be able to handle things this afternoon?"

"You know, I will. You shouldn't even have to ask that question. Get out of here. Please let me know when you get home. I am still worried about you."

"Yes, mother," I quipped. "Do you want me to check with you when I cross the street too?"

With that exchange, I straightened the chair, checked again for the rat, and clicked out of my email. I certainly didn't want Sandy or the cleaning woman, for that matter, finding Ellen's emails.

I deliberately drove by what I had known as Jack's place. I half expected to see the flashing beer sign and the bar open for business, but it was still an empty lot. Apparently, Jack had given up, at least for today.

The drive was uneventful, and soon, I was pulling into my driveway. I stopped to pick up the paper on the way into the house and wondered why Mary had not retrieved it herself. Usually, she likes to read the news while she drinks her morning coffee. In fact, when I can have breakfast with her, we usually share the paper. She takes the news and entertainment sections, and I get the sports and financial pages.

As I opened the door and entered the living room, I immediately saw why she had not picked up the paper. She was sitting on the couch with books surrounding her.

Chapter Fourteen – Do You Believe In Ghosts?

"Hey, lover, what are you doing, trying to finish your doctorate?"

"No, I am looking through some of your old high school yearbooks. And just why are you home so early?"

I had not thought of a good excuse. I never came home at this time of day. I didn't want Mary to worry, and how does one explain that you had a panic attack from talking with the dark side. I thought that in this incidence, a small lie might be better than the whole truth.

"I developed a little headache. It is probably because I didn't sleep too well last night. Why are you looking at old yearbooks?" Even as I asked the question, the answer came to me. She was looking to see if there really was an Ellen Sanchez that went to high school with me. I prayed at that moment that there had been.

"Take a couple of aspirins and come sit with me. I want to show you something," Mary said in a calm voice.

I went to the kitchen and feigned, taking a couple of aspirins. I knew they wouldn't help what I had, and I have never been one to take medication that I didn't need. I did not want Mary to know that I had lied to her about the headache, however.

I went back into the living room and cleared off space next to Mary and sat down.

"Look at this," Mary said as she handed me one of my old yearbooks. "Is this the woman at the bar?"

I looked carefully at the picture she was showing me. The young girl in the picture did bear a resemblance to Ellen. The caption under the picture had her name. So at least she had gone to school with me. That was good news. Now Mary would at least believe that something was real.

"Yes, that could be her," I said. She has filled out nicely through the years, though."

"You are right, she looks amazingly good for a woman that has been dead for several years."

"Dead, what are you talking about? You saw the picture of her."

"I also found this," Mary said as she handed me a computer copy of a newspaper obituary. "It seems your girlfriend was killed in an auto accident two years after she graduated. The police said that alcohol and drugs were involved in the accident. The car she hit carried both parents and two children. They were all killed. Bill, something very strange is going on. We need to get to the bottom of this before we both go crazy."

I knew at that moment that I could not tell her about Jack. Hopefully, he would give up and leave us alone.

"Look, Mary, I don't believe in ghosts. There has to be another explanation."

"Maybe someone is playing an elaborate practical joke," Mary mused.

"I would really like to believe that," I replied.

"But you don't do you?" Mary had either read something in my face or in my voice. "Can you tell me why not?"

"Well, first for someone to play a joke of this magnitude, they would have to have a very good reason. I can't think of anyone we know that would do such a thing. They would also have to know things about my past. So it would have to be someone that we know or someone that I have known in the past. Secondly, how do you explain the bar?"

"Is it possible that somebody slipped you a hallucinogenic drug? Maybe you just imagined being at that location."

"At this juncture, I would say almost anything is possible. But, there are too many other things that have happened. If it is all drug-induced, I must still be under the influence."

"What do you mean other stuff? Are you telling me there is more?"

"You told me that something similar happened to you when you were visiting your sister. Don't you think it is time you told me about that?" I watched Mary's face, and I could tell that she was thinking carefully about how to word her reply.

"Most of it you already know," she said, hanging her head slightly.

"What do you mean I already know?" I asked.

"Bill, what I am going to tell you now, I am more ashamed of than what happened while I was gone. You really should have changed your password on your email account. I have been going crazy wondering if you were having an affair so I checked your email. I saw the pictures of Bob and me dancing. I know how they must have looked to you, and I am sorry for that, but I want you to know nothing more happened."

"You thought I was having an affair, even after everything I confided in you. Why would you think such a thing?"

"Well, the cleaners called today. It seems you forgot to pick up the clothes you dropped off last week. They apologized for not being able to get all the lipstick stains out of your shirt. They suggested I might want to use a lighter shade in the future. They also wanted you to know that it is not good to put smoky garments in a plastic bag. It sets the smell into the fabric and is very hard to remove."

"Ok, I guess I may have left a little of what happened that night out. We danced, and she offered herself to me. When I could see that my resolve was breaking a little bit, I kissed her good night and left. I have no idea how lipstick got on my shirt. As for the smoke, there were a lot of people smoking in the bar. Alcohol and tobacco seem to go together."

"Then why did you take them to the cleaners instead of leaving them for me to wash as you normally would?"

"It was the smoky smell. I didn't want them contaminating the rest of the clothes." I explained. "I didn't even see the lipstick."

"The lipstick got on your shirt because she wanted me to know about her. Women are great at leaving clues for wives to find. That only tells me that she is quite serious about wanting you. If it had been just a casual evening to her, she would have been more careful. Whether she is a ghost or real, I am going to be watching out for that woman. The only way she will take you away from me is over my dead body."

I thought that was a strange choice of words, considering what we might be facing. I hoped that it would not turn out to be an omen.

"Ok, now tell me about what happened to you. I have already seen the pictures, but how did you end up in that situation, to begin with?"

Chapter Fifteen – Mary's Story

It was really strange. Sis is not much for parties, but two days before I arrived out there, she received an invitation to a party. She thought about throwing the invitation away, but for some reason, she didn't. I guess she knows how much I like a good party, so without asking me, she accepted for both of us."

I suddenly remembered the invitation that I had received. This was not the time to bring it up. I did not want Mary to have any reason to forget to tell me the rest of what had happened.

"What kind of party was it?" I persisted.

"That is the funny part, the invitation didn't say. There was no mention of how to dress. It just gave directions to the house. I felt a little uneasy about going, but after all, I was with Sis. We decided to wear dresses and heels. We figured if we go there and we looked out of place, we would just leave. When we got there, we found that there were about 50 people at the house. Most of them were men. I really felt uneasy at the point, but I figured we were already there; we might as well go in. Neither of us knew anyone that was there until a young man came up and called me by name. I questioned him about how he knew who I was. He told me that he had met me at our wedding. He offered no other explanation, and when I looked into his eyes, I just couldn't press the issue. They were almost exactly as you described Jack's. They seemed to look straight through me as if he could read my mind. He took us around and introduced us to everyone. He knew them all by name, so I assumed he was the host."

"What was his name?" I asked with interest.

"He just called himself Luther. He never did give the last name. Why is it important?"

"Jack never told me his last name either, and I never asked. Don't you find that strange?"

"Yes, it is, come to think of it. But for some reason, I didn't question much of anything that night. Even though I was originally worried, once I got inside the house, I was totally at ease. Anyway, after we had made the rounds of introductions, the music started, and the lights dimmed. One after another, men began asking Sis and me to dance. I must have danced with at least a dozen different men. The one you saw in the picture was the only one that asked me more than once. In fact, I was beginning to think that I had lost my appeal. Usually, I have to fight guys off with a stick. I am sorry that sounds like I am really vain."

"As Walter Brennan once said in "The Guns of Will Sonnet," "No brag, just fact," I interjected.

"Ah, you're sweet. Anyway, when I got a break from dancing, I would go over to the bar and sit down. There was one woman there that always seemed to show up when I did. She seemed to be egging me on, telling me what an opportunity I had with all these men around. She almost made me feel that she wanted me to be unfaithful to you that night. She was the one that said the line about not eating the same meal for the rest of my life."

"What did she look like," I asked.

"That is another funny thing. She looked a lot like Ellen, only much older. She must have been 60 years old. But the more I think of it, she could have been Ellen's grandmother."

"Maybe tomorrow you should run a computer search to see if Ellen has a grandmother that is still living," I suggested. "Maybe, we could find out some information from her. Please go on with your story."

"There is not much left to tell. Bob, that was his name, asked if I would like to go someplace a little quieter. I knew what he was suggesting and turned him down. Before I left, I had a compulsion to kiss him. That was the third photograph that you saw. I know that it looked bad, but nothing else happened. I went and found Sis, and we left. She must have had a great time because she was flushed and had a hard time looking me in the eye for the rest of the night. I don't know what she was embarrassed about. After all, she is divorced and free to sleep with anyone she wants."

"Are you really disappointed in me?" Mary asked.

"Of course not. In fact, I am glad you had a good time. And I am not saying that just to salve my own conscience. I do have a small jealous streak in me, but it makes me happy knowing that you are enjoying yourself. How about you, are you angry with me because of last Tuesday night?"

"No, I already told you that I too was a little jealous. But deep down, I know that I can trust you and I hope you feel the same about me. Hey, I've got a great idea, why don't we call Ellen and Bob and double date?" Before I could tell her she was truly crazy, she burst out laughing.

I didn't say anything, but I now wondered if Mary had Bob's phone number as I had Ellen's.

## Chapter Sixteen – Mary, The Detective

That night I got the best sleep I that I had received in a week. No dreams, at least none that awoke me or I could recall. I woke just before the alarm was set to go off. I felt refreshed and ready for the day. It was a good feeling. Surprisingly Mary was already out of bed, and I could smell coffee coming from the kitchen. After finishing with the morning ritual in the bathroom, I made my way downstairs. There on the couch was Mary already working the computer keyboard.

"Good morning, gorgeous," I said with a lilt in my voice. "I hope you slept well."

"Actually, I have been up for a while. I got to thinking about how Ellen got those pictures of me so that she could send them to you. There has to be some connection with her and Bob. So far, I have not been able to find it, but sooner or later, I will."

"Why don't you just send her an email and ask her," I suggested. "You have my password, and I haven't deleted her messages."

"That is an excellent idea," Mary mused. "Perhaps I could set you up with a date with her. That way, I could meet her instead and have a long, heart to heart talk with her."

"I don't mind you meeting the woman, but I want to be there when you do. Under no circumstances are you to go off on your own. We don't know how crazy this woman might be. And while you are sending emails, you might send one to Bob as well. I might be interested in meeting him."

"Oh, so you think the idea of a double date isn't such a bad idea, then," Mary quipped.

Her answer confirmed my suspicion. She still had a way to contact Bob. I certainly could not make a big deal out of that, considering that I still had Ellen's information. In any case, right now, we wanted to keep anything that might link us to that specific night. Until we have completely figured out what happened to us, we needed all the connections we could get.

I managed to entice Mary away from the computer long enough for her to have breakfast with me. I made eggs, toast, and bacon, and we consumed them in silence. I guess that we simply did not have anything more to talk about at this point. As soon as she had finished eating, she took her coffee back to the computer and started searching again.

I, for my part, said my goodbyes and headed for work.

The drive to work was uneventful. I entered the office and noticed that Sandy had gone back to her, dressed down mode. She handed me the usual messages. As I went through them, I half expected that there would be one from Ellen. I opened my email and again nothing. Maybe the craziness was over.

As the day progressed, I was feeling better and better about my situation. No calls from Jack, no big black rats, just the normal everyday business. I even covered for Sandy when she went to lunch. Although I expected disaster every minute she was gone, nothing happened. Just as I was getting ready to leave for the day, Sandy entered my office, holding up the embossed envelope that contained the invitation to the party.

"The invitation is real," she informed me. "You and Mary are both on the list of invitations." She looked proud as she gave me the envelope. "Funny thing, though, there were no instructions about what the dress code was."

"How did you find this out?" I asked.

"Oh, through the network."

"What network would that be?" I queried.

"The network of executive assistants, of course. I know someone who knows someone who knows someone that works for the Carrigans. It is much more efficient than the Internet."

"Sandy, you never cease to amaze me, thanks."

"No problem, Mr. Anderson, you know I am always glad to help."

I left the office making a mental note to talk with Mary about the party. The drive home was uneventful as well, although I half expected to see that flashing Budweiser sign but there was still nothing there except an empty lot.

I entered the house and found Mary still working on the computer. "Ok, young detective, what did you find today?" I said with a little laughter in my voice.

"What do you say we eat before we get into this?" Mary asked.

"Fine with me, breakfast was a long time ago. I could use a little food and beverage. What did you have in mind?"

"I will make us a salad while you fire up the grill. I have a couple small steaks, and we can nuke a potato. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great to me." I headed out to the patio to turn on the grill. It was gas, so it would only take about 10 minutes to heat. I used that time to go back inside and wash two small potatoes, rub some spices into the steaks and grab a can of beer. Taking the steaks and the beer, I returned to the grill. I plopped the steaks spice side up onto the hot grill. Then I took the can of beer and poured about one-quarter of the can onto each steak. The rest was for drinking. I allowed them to cook for about two minutes on each side, and they were ready. I took them back inside and set them on the counter just in time to hear the microwave go off. The potatoes were ready as well.

As we ate, I tried to quiz Mary about what she had found out. Mary somehow had become the master of suspense and refused to talk until after supper.

Realizing that I was not getting anything accomplished, I decided to spring my own surprise. Opening my folded newspaper, I pulled out the party invitation and held it up for Mary to see. Like a child waiting for a present, her eyes lit up.

"What is that, Bill?" Mary asked with excitement in her voice.

"Why don't you open it and find out," I replied.

Mary eyed the envelope carefully, studying the paper and quality of printing. She got up taking her dishes with her and did not return to the table until she had carefully washed and dried her hands. Only then did she pick up the envelope. She did not however, immediately open it. Instead, she ran her fingers over the paper and printing on the envelope. She has always liked to prolong surprises, and this was no exception. But, finally unable to contain herself any longer, she opened the envelope. She did take a few minutes to examine the card itself before finally opening and beginning to read.

"My God, Bill, do you know who this is from?"

"Yes, Mary, I do." I was trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

"Why in the world would one of the richest families on the face of the earth invite us to a party?"

"Well, we are not exactly paupers," I informed her.

"We are not exactly Bill Gates either," she shot back. "Are you sure this is not some kind of joke?"

"I thought the same thing, almost threw the card away, but Sandy insisted on checking it out for me. She assures me that we are on the list of invitees."

"And how would Sandy know that?" Mary asked.

"She told me it was through the network of executive assistants. It is too difficult to explain, but someone was able to get the list from the executive assistant for the Carrigans. I have no idea why we were invited, but I am convinced that we were. Of course, I know that you hate parties and will send our regrets, telling the Carrigans that we will not be able to attend."

"What have you been smoking? I wouldn't miss this for the world. Of course, I will have to get something to wear."

"We don't even know what the dress code for this event is. How will you know what to buy? And what is wrong with that closet full of clothes you now have?"

"Men," she said. "You will never understand women!"

"I hope this is not going to be one of those lectures about how I need to get in touch with my feminine side, and then I end up wearing women's underwear," I said sarcastically. "But on a more serious note, don't you think it might be better to pass up this party. After all the strange things that have happened, including the party you attended while visiting your sister, caution might be the better part of valor."

"I admit it does seem strange that we received this invitation, but what could possibly happen to us in a crowd of rich people? It isn't as if they are inviting us to a dark alley."

"Well, let's talk about what you found out today, and we'll see. Are you ready to present your report?"

"Ok, come with me," Mary said, taking my hand.

I allowed her to pull me out of my chair and lead over to the sofa. As I sat down, she fired up the laptop and drew up my email. I gave her a quizzical look, not knowing what she was up to.

"I just followed your instructions," she said. "I sent an email to Ellen for you inviting her to meet you. Here is her reply."

I stared at the screen, dumbfounded by what I read in Ellen's reply. "Nice try, Mary, but you really shouldn't be playing games with Bill's email. I will meet him in my own way and in my own time. Enjoy him while you can."

"Tell me, Bill, how would she know that it was me and not you? Did you set up some kind of code to alert her? Or did you send her an email this morning warning her?"

"I swear, Mary, I did neither. It must have just been a guess on her part. How did you word your email to her?"

"I told her that you wanted to meet her at the bar in the Hilton tonight at 8 PM."

"I can't figure it out. She must have figured that I wouldn't meet her in a public place and risk having you find out. What else happened today?"

Chapter Seventeen – Trying to Make Sense of it All

"Well, I called Sis and asked her to drive by the house where we went to the party. At least in my hallucination, there was a house at the right address. The only problem was that Sis told me it bore no resemblance to the place we went to that night. She was pretty freaked out. I then asked her if she had talked to anyone from the party since. She had. In fact, she is now sleeping with someone she met there. She assures me it is not her imagination. She says he is a real hunk. Of course, they all were."

"How do you explain the change in houses?" I asked. "A missing bar and now a house that miraculously changes décor, aren't you worried that something similar will happen at this party?"

"Even if I believed that what harm has been done to either of us?"

"Physically, none, but psychologically I am not so sure. We have begun doubting each other. I overreacted, and we had a huge fight. Is it possible that someone is really trying to break us up? No party is worth that. I can't imagine what life would be like without you. Mary, you do know how much I love you?"

"Bill, you are not going to lose me. We have withstood some pretty heavy temptation so far. What more can they do?"

"Mary, you come from a religious family, do you recall a book in the Bible called Job?"

"Yes, vaguely. I think God and the Devil were arguing over whether he would remain faithful if the Devil were allowed to tempt him. But what does that have to do with us? Surely, you are not suggesting that Satan is tempting us, are you? Bill, do you really believe there is such a being as the Devil?"

"I know you believe in God. Why is it so hard to believe in the Devil? If one is real, then so is the other." I then told her about what happened at the office.

"A rat on your filing cabinet? Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? That conversation, you had left more questions than were answered. If I understand you right: he said that the bar was just as real as our marriage and as real as the rat on the filing cabinet. If I take that one step further since the bar does not appear to be real to me, does that mean our marriage isn't real? I remember standing in front of the altar and hearing the preacher pronounce us, man and wife. That seems pretty real to me unless you hired a bogus preacher? Of course, I have known him for my whole life, so I doubt if that is possible. I will check out his credentials tomorrow, however."

"I keep thinking that not everything is as it seems," I replied. "I think on some level that everything we have gone through is real. I just can't figure out how. Were you able to find out anything about Ellen's grandmother?"

"No, she apparently wasn't important enough for a lot of information to be written about her other than the obituary. And that didn't mention anything about her grandparents. I am afraid that is a dead-end, no pun intended."

"How do you feel about another experiment?" I asked.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I suspect that you have a way to contact Bob. Am I right?"

Mary looked at me with a strange expression on her face. "If I admit that you are going to think that I planned to meet him at some time."

"Mary, have you slept with him yet?"

"Of course not."

"Do you intend to? You really don't have to answer that. I don't know why I kept Ellen's emails, but I do know that I cannot delete them now. We have to have some way to connect the past to the future. These two people, plus Jack, are that connection."

"Ok, I don't have his email address, but he did give me a phone number. I guess I could call him if that is what you want."

"Did you give him your phone number, as well?"

"No, strangely enough, he did not ask for it. Thinking back, it was like he already knew that he could contact me at any time. If that was true, then why ask for a phone number?"

"Well, I was going to suggest that you block our number from his caller ID, but that might make him suspicious. Go ahead and make the call as if you would like to get together with him."

Mary went and got her purse and looked through her card wallet for the number. Finding it, she began to dial. Bob answered on the third ring. "Bob, this is Mary, do you remember me?"

"How could I forget the most beautiful woman in the world?" he replied. "I am a little surprised by your call, however. I thought you were madly in love with your husband. Has something happened to change your mind?"

"Well, we had a little fight. It seems some woman sent him some pictures of us kissing. Would you know anything about that?"

"I certainly remember kissing you. In fact, I get an erection every time I think about it. You sucked my tongue so well that it makes me wonder what else you might want to suck."

"Jesus, Bob, why do you say such things? Do you think I am some kind of slut?"

"Come on, Mary, don't pretend that you didn't enjoy it. Remember, I had my hand on your ass at the time. I felt you clenching the muscles as you ground your hips into mine. If there had not been a couple of thin pieces of cloth between us, you would have committed adultery right there on the dance floor."

As I listened to their conversation, jealousy overcame me. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing the phone away from her and threatening physical harm to him.

"Bob, I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it. I am just shocked that you would talk so boldly to me on the phone. I really would like to get together with you again, but I am not going to be on the east coast anytime soon. Is there any chance that you plan to be out this way?"

"Funny, you should ask. I am attending a party in your city on Friday night. Maybe we could arrange to meet afterward."

"That sounds great, give me a call when you get in."

"I will, and by the way, those little white shorts you are wearing drive me crazy. If you put on your three-inch white heels, you would be irresistible. Good night lover."

Mary's face was pure white as she hung up the phone. "How in hell, did he know what I am wearing? She asked. "As far as I know, he has never seen me in white shorts."

That brought me back to earth. I was so shaken up by the sexual innuendos that it had not even registered on me that he had correctly guessed what she was wearing.

Neither of us spoke for a minute after Mary hung up the phone. For my part, I was trying to regain my composure. I am sure that Mary was thinking about what to say, or she might have been in shock herself. Mary was the first to recover.

"Bill, I know that sounded bad, but really nothing would have happened. I admit that I got into the scene pretty heavily, but I was never completely out of control. Please forgive me."

"Look, Mary, both of us were led to do things we would not normally do. That is why I don't think going to that party is a very good idea. You heard Bob; he is going to come here for a party Friday night. I will bet you dimes to donuts that it is the same party. And I would not be surprised to see Ellen and Jack there as well. There is a reason that we were invited."

"Isn't that what we both want?" asked Mary. "The only way we are going to get to the bottom of this is if we meet these people again. And together we should have more control than if we are alone with them. I believe we have to go and face this thing together."

"You may be right, but I am nervous none the less. I am no longer sure that we can handle the situation. They seem to know what we are doing at every turn. We will have no element of surprise. And we have no idea how many of them are involved in this scheme."

"I can't get over how he knew what I was wearing. Do you think they can actually see everything we are doing?"

I thought carefully before answering. "I don't really think that they can see us when we are not in contact with them. It is like we invite them into our world through our communications. Bob seemed genuinely surprised when you called him. He also did not seem to know about our argument when you mentioned it. But, at the end of your conversation, he took great pleasure in letting you know that he could see you."

"It is like they are playing with us. I still can't figure out why they picked us. You said it was like we invited them into our lives by our contact with them. How did we make the original contact?"

"I really don't know. I have wracked my brain trying to think of something that we might have done to attract them to us. Neither of us has ever been interested in the occult or fortunetellers. If it weren't for television and movies, I wouldn't even know what a séance is."

"Whoa, are you saying that visiting a fortuneteller or attending a séance might be the reason we are in this situation? Is it possible that someone we know could have lured us in without our knowledge?"

"Obviously, you have something in mind. Give me a hint."

"Well, Sis has been calling these psychic hotlines. I didn't think anything about it until you just mentioned what you did. She even sent me a link to my email. I never checked it out. I have always believed those things are just rip-offs."

"I don't know enough about this to offer an opinion."

"Do you think we should consult a priest or a preacher? If this is really what you think it is, maybe we need help from a higher source."

"Which religion do you want to pick? It seems they all teach something different. How do we know?"

"Does it matter? I always believed that all religions were working for the same God."

"Perhaps, but are we sure that they are working for the good God or the evil one? Christ compared the religious leaders of his day to whitewashed graves. On the outside, they appeared nice enough, but when you looked inside, you found all kinds of vile things. Why would we believe today's money-grubbing preachers are any different?"

"Wow, I didn't know you were so anti-religion. Maybe sometime we should sit down and discuss this, but right now, I am only interested in finding a solution to our present crisis."

"I think we have done enough detective work for one day. "What do you say we sit on the sofa with a stiff drink and watch some TV? Maybe if we sit close enough to one another, something will pop up."

"All right," Mary said with a small frown. "I will agree to stop playing detective for tonight if you agree to knock off the sexual innuendos. I had enough of that from Bob."

"It's a deal," I agreed.

I scanned the TV listings and finally settled on an old episode of "Banachek." In that show, a football player disappeared in the middle of a pileup. Of course, there was a logical explanation, but only Banachek could figure it out. Where is George Peppard when you really need him? That made me start to think about the bar. What was it that Jack said to me on the phone? "Things are not always as they appear." I now knew that there was a logical explanation. The trick would be to find it.

We finished the day by crawling into bed together, but it did not lead to sex. We just lay close together and thanked our lucky stars that we had each other.

Chapter Eighteen – Ellen Strikes Back

I forgot to set the alarm, but fortunately, I am an early riser and awoke refreshed and ready for a new day. This morning Mary was still asleep, probably worn out from nervous tension. Not wanting to disturb her, I slipped out of bed, got ready for work, and slipped out of the house without even starting the coffee. As I drove to work, I was amazed by all of the women that were on the street. It looked like a convention of hookers were in town. At least two of them stood on each street corner. Some were dressed in old cutoff jeans, others in shorts and high heels. In all the years that I have lived here, I don't think that I have seen more than one or two prostitutes on the streets. Normally the police would pick them up before they reached the sidewalk, but today I saw police cars passing them by without so much as a look. I figured either they had changed the law as I slept or that this was some type of sting aimed at arresting Johns. What do you call a good-looking prostitute on the street? In this town: officer.

I found a McDonalds and pulled in for breakfast and much-needed coffee. I had forgotten to pick up the paper when I left, so I put a quarter into the vending machine at the side of the building and bought one. I ordered a big breakfast and large coffee and sat down at the counter out of the way of traffic. I opened to the sports section and was somewhat disappointed to see that the Yankees had lost, and Boston had won. That narrowed New York's lead in the east to three games with ten to play. Pretty safe but not a sure thing. The curse of Ruth does not stop Boston from winning the division, just the World Series. I checked the other pennant races with only casual interest.

I flipped to the financial pages to check what was happening in the world of the stock market, but something caught my eye on the first page. The headline read, "Carringtons sell estate." I read through the article with interest. After all, how could we be going to a party at their estate if they were selling it? I found nothing in the article to explain that. It just mentioned that the estate had been sold to a group from Charlotte, N.C. Strange, that is where Mary's sister lives. Just another coincidence, I reasoned.

I thought of calling Mary, but I really did not want to disturb her if she was still asleep. Instead, I finished my coffee, ordered a refill, and left for the office. As I passed the empty lot, I noticed construction had begun on the site. I wondered what they might be building there. The lot wasn't big enough for much of anything other than another bar.

I was surprised that I had to use my key to open the door. That told me that Sandy had not arrived yet. In the three years, she has worked for me, I had never known her to be late. I flicked on the lights and checked her desk to see if she had some type of emergency and had to leave, but no note was found. I turned back to the door and set the chime so that I could work in my office and still hear if someone came into the outer office. I turned on the computer, and while I was waiting for it to come up, I dialed Sandy's number. After it had rung 10 times, I gave up and cradled the receiver. Hopefully, she was on her way and just had a flat tire. In my heart, I really did not believe that, however. She would have called me from her cellular phone. Ah, what is wrong with my mind? I checked the Rolodex for her cell number and dialed. It went straight to voice mail telling me that it was not turned on or the battery had died.

As I was trying to remember where her husband worked, the phone rang. Answering it, I heard Ellen's voice on the other end. "Bill, it isn't nice to let that whore of a wife of yours play games with your email," she began.

"Now hold on, Ellen," I interrupted. "All you will succeed by insulting my wife is incur my wrath."

"Calm down, lover. I don't want your blood pressure going sky high and giving you a stroke. But really, if we are going to have any type of relationship, you do need to change your password to your email. I don't want another woman coming between us."

"We are not going to have a relationship. I thought I made it plain to you that I love my wife."

"Those were the words you used, but your kiss and your body told a whole different story. Eventually, you will come around and discover that you really want me."

"Don't you think, the fact that you are dead, is a small damper on that prospect?" I asked, hoping to evoke a response.

"Well, I didn't expect that from you. I didn't think that you would let a little thing like death come between us. Think carefully, did I feel like I was dead? Was my body cold, or did it feel like it was on fire? Did you have any problem prying my cold dead lips apart so that you could stick your tongue in my mouth?"

"Ok, Ellen, while we are playing twenty questions, how did you get those pictures of Bob and Ellen?"

"Bob and I are old friends. I knew he liked his women cheap and easy, so I fixed him up with your wife. Mom likes to watch, so I sent her along to photograph the event. She was really disappointed that Mary left with her clothes still on, but I assured her it wouldn't happen the next time."

"How did you know that Mary would be in Charlotte that week?"

"Why from talking with her sister, of course. We made a little deal. She delivered Mary, and I would deliver her present hunk of a man. Everyone has their price, don't you agree?"

"Ok, now what is it that you want?" I said irritably.

"Why what I have always wanted since high school, you, of course."

"I am sorry, Ellen, but I am already taken. There are thousands of better-looking men out there than me. Please leave me alone."

"You will change your mind, count on it. Before I hang up, don't you want to know where your rude secretary is?"

"Sandy? What has she got to do with this?"

"She was really obnoxious to me on the phone the other day, so I arranged for her to be picked up in that little hooker sting this morning. You know I think she has a thing for you, dressing like a whore lately. Well, this morning, she was dressed particularly provocatively, and she had car trouble. While she was walking down the street, a police car picked her up for prostitution. It is a good thing you are such a happily married man or you might have given in to temptation and ended up in the same cell she is in. I guess they would separate the men and women, though. If you tell me you love me and make sure she patches all my calls straight through to you without the 20 questions, I will make a call and have her released. She could make it to work by noon. A small price to pay to help such a loyal employee, don't you think?"

I hesitated, trying to find a way out.

"Bill, do you want her out or not? I can just as easily plant some condoms in her car and get a couple of the locals to testify they slept with her for twenty dollars. I really don't care if you help the bitch or not. It is only a $500 fine. Of course, she will have to register as a sex offender. Everywhere she goes, people will know that she lives in the neighborhood and will watch her like a hawk thinking that she is a child molester.

"Why are you so cruel?" I asked. "You should know that it is not the type of woman that I am attracted to."

"Oh, so you want me to be like your sweet, pure as the driven snow, Mary? You are under some misguided conception that she is a virgin, like her namesake in the Bible, are you? What do you really know about her anyway? Did you know that she was very popular at the Frat parties when she was in college? In fact, I have some wonderful pictures of her performing. If you would like I can email them to you. Or if you prefer you could send me her email address and I could send them to her. Maybe she would like to relive some of those memories. You really can't believe how some of those guys were hung."

"Why do you need me to provide her email address? You didn't have any trouble finding mine."

"It is easy to find an email address when the person's name is a part of it. Mary must use some kind of phony name or nickname."

"Look, what she did before we met has nothing to do with today. Everyone makes mistakes when they are young. That should not be held against them for the rest of their lives."

"That is where you are wrong, Bill. In fact, I could say dead wrong. Everything we do in life has a bearing on what we will become. Just because we are young when we make mistakes does not mean that they are automatically expunged when we grow older. They are still written down and remembered. Bill, you know that I am in love with you?"

"You have a funny way of showing it. You seem to be doing everything in your power to ruin my life."

"No, not everything."

For the first time, I felt a kinship to this woman. It seemed to me that she had softened in some way. Perhaps she was even passing on a warning or giving me some advice that might be useful at a later time.

"Bill, I know that you are a sports fan. We might compare life to being on a baseball team. We boot a few grounders, and pretty soon, the manager starts questioning our ability. We drop a couple of fly balls, and the owner notices us. After a while, we no longer get playing time, and sooner or later, we get traded to the other team. When that happens, we have no choice but to play as hard as we can for our new owner. The surprising thing is that what got us traded, in the beginning, are the things that make us so attractive to our new team. Bill, are you following any of this?"

"I think so. I believe that you are trying to tell me; your new team is recruiting me. I have a feeling that you might be the scout that is checking me out."

"I am not at liberty to tell you more than I have except always remember things are not always as they seem. I will tell you one thing more: Mary is the key. Now, I shouldn't do this, but I am going to let Sandy off the hook without payment on your part. She, however, will have to pay a price. Goodbye, Lover." And then the line went dead.

At least if I could believe her, I now knew where this whole thing had started, with Mary's sister. It boggled my mind to believe that she would deliberately set Mary up with another man just so she could enrich her own love life. But then Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery. Anything is possible.

True to her word, in about twenty minutes, Sandy called telling me she had had car trouble and would be in shortly. I thought of questioning her but instead told her not to worry about it I would hold the fort until she arrived.

When she came into my office a little later, she looked like she had been through the mill. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were rumpled.

"It looks like you had quite an ordeal," I said. "Are you sure you are up to working today? I can get by if you are not."

"I'll be fine. Just let me go freshen up a little. Thanks for understanding, Mr. Anderson."

"No, problem, and Sandy, if a woman by the name of Ellen Sanchez calls for me, put her through immediately."

Sandy looked at me with a knowing frown. I knew she suspected that I was having an affair. I thought about trying to explain, but that would involve filling her in on what was rapidly becoming an unbelievable story. Better to just leave it as it was.

I finished the day without further disruption. Several times I thought I heard Sandy crying in the outer office, but each time I went to check on her, she was just sitting there with a dazed look on her face. Finally, I made her go home about an hour early. Without argument, she left. I wondered what, if anything, she would tell her husband. How do you tell someone you love that you spent the morning in jail arrested for prostitution? Even if you know you are innocent, there is considerable blame attached.

That night I explained what had happened to Mary.

"And you refused to tell her that you loved her even though it could have saved Sandy?"

"That is the funny thing I couldn't refuse. You know I would never let anything happen to Sandy. I would have said about anything she wanted me to, but for some unknown reason, she let me off the hook. I was really shocked but very grateful. I think that there is some good in that woman."

"Bill, maybe it is over. Do you think we are safe now?"

"I don't think anyone is ever really safe. But at least there is hope.

"That is totally unbelievable. How could anyone mistake Sandy for a hooker? Is she all right?"

"I hope so, I didn't let on that I knew the whole story. I let her think that I believed the story about her car breaking down. She must have been mortified. Listen, Mary, there is a couple of other things we need to talk about. Remember how you said Sis had been talking with psychics? It is possible that one of those fortune tellers was Ellen. Ellen told me that your sister set you up for Bob in exchange for her present lover."

"Surely, you don't believe that. Sis loves you like a brother. She would never do anything intentionally to hurt either one of us."

"You are probably right. I don't know how you might bring it up in conversation, but you might want to call her."

"What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?" she asked.

I handed her the financial section and pointed her to the article on the front page. "I would like to know how we can be invited to a party at the Carringtons when they have sold out to a group from North Carolina. I thought you might do a little research if you have time tomorrow."

"Consider it done," she replied.

The rest of Wednesday night was pretty uneventful, at least for me. As I was to learn later, Sandy was not as lucky.

Chapter Nineteen – Sandy Pays the Price

Thursday morning started quietly enough. I had coffee with Mary and then made my way to work. Everything changed when I entered the office. As Sandy handed me the mail and my calls, I noticed a huge bruise on her left cheek. One of her eyes was black as well. I knew that she had been beaten up. "My God, Sandy, what happened?"

"I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," she said as she hung her head. "My car did break down on the way to work. The battery in my cell phone was dead, and so I had to walk to a convenience store to use a payphone to call my husband, Ray for help. On the way, a police car stopped me and accused me of soliciting. They thought I was a prostitute. They arrested me and took me to the police station. I was strip-searched and put into a cell with other women. They even took mug shots and fingerprints. I have never been more humiliated in my life. Eventually, they came in and admitted that they didn't have enough evidence to formally charge me. They let me go after warning me to stay off the streets. Well, I came to work, and I know you saw how disheveled I looked. I just couldn't bring myself to tell you the whole story. I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson."

"That is ok, Sandy, but that doesn't explain how you got the black eye and bruises. You did not have them when you left here yesterday."

"I was trying to decide how to tell Ray about what happened when he came home. Instead of letting me talk to him, he simply slapped my face hard and shoved a bunch of my mug shots into my face. He said someone had dropped them off at his work. I tried to explain that it was all a mistake: that I was innocent, but he just hit me again. Then he started calling me names like whore, tramp, and slut. He said if I was going to be a whore, he might as well use me like one. After a while, I just let him have his way. I am pretty badly bruised all over my body. The face is just a small sample."

"That son of a bitch, I am going to kill him," I snarled. "Where is he? Let's see if he can take a beating as well as he can give one."

"Please, Mr. Anderson, just let it drop. He left last night and took a suitcase with him. I don't expect him to come back anytime soon. When he finally calms down, he will let me explain, and maybe we can patch things up."

"Why would you want to? Any man that beats his wife is not worth much."

"I know you believe that, but what if it was Mary and you saw those pictures of her? Are you sure that you wouldn't go a little crazy?"

"I don't know what I would do, but I know that I would not beat her or rape her. Listen, Sandy, why don't you take the day off. You are in no condition to work. I can handle the office today."

"No, I want to keep busy. Work will keep my mind off of Ray and what he did. Thank you, though, for being so kind to me."

"If you change your mind, just let me know. I am truly sorry for what has happened to you. If you need anything, be sure to call me. And make sure your battery is fully charged before you leave the house from now on."

I went into my office, still fuming with a desire to beat Ray to a pulp. How could he treat his own wife that way? Then I started thinking about my conversation with Ellen the day before. So that was what she meant when she said Sandy would have to pay a price. Was that the trade-off I had made to keep from telling her I loved her. Not much of a bargain, in my opinion. Had I only known, things would have worked out differently? At least I now knew that Ellen was truly evil. I didn't have to wonder about that anymore.

The day ended without incident. I offered to drive Sandy home. She refused, saying she would be all right and she didn't want to leave her car here. I insisted on following her, however. If Ray was home when we got there, he and I were going to have a little talk. I was going to do all the talking, and he was going to listen. As we drove towards Sandy's neighborhood, I noticed an unusual number of police cars. It seemed like they must have had her under surveillance, hoping to catch her again. Police do not give up easily when they believe someone has committed a crime and might get away with it. I wondered if one of them would be foolish enough to try and frame her. I hoped that wouldn't happen. I couldn't watch her every minute of every day.

I made sure that she made it home and inside safely. Ray was nowhere to be seen, and when I was satisfied she would be ok, I started for home. I had driven about three blocks when I noticed police cars blocking the street and routing traffic away from a pickup truck that was surrounded by police. They were installing yellow tape to mark what must have been a crime scene. I guess I would read about it in the newspaper or see it on the nightly news.

I was about a half-hour late getting to my house. Mary was waiting for me in the entranceway excitement showing all over her face.

Chapter Twenty – Mary Makes a Discovery

"Come on, let's take a ride."

"Whoa, slow down," I protested. "I just got home, and I could use some dinner. I skipped lunch today."

"Sorry, no time, you can pick something up at a drive-through. There is something that I have to show you. I know where I am going, so I will drive. You just sit back and enjoy the ride."

I knew better than to try and change her mind when she was this hyper, so I got into the passenger's side of her car and buckled my belt. Mary refused to answer any questions as we wandered through streets that I had never been on before. She simply said I would see when we got there.

About thirty minutes out of the city, she pulled off the road in front of a winding driveway with a big iron fence and gate. On one side of the gate stood a guardhouse, and in front of that were two armed security guards. From the road, you could not see the residence that they guarded, but I assumed that it must have been quite a house. Nobody pays for armed security unless they have a lot to lose.

"Ok, dearest, why are we here?" I asked Mary.

"That is the house," she declared with excitement.

"You have lost me, what house?"

"The one Sis and I went to the party at. There can't be two places in the whole world with that fence, gate and guard shack. And to top it off, I recognize one of the security guards."

"Now, wait a minute. You were two thousand miles away from here. You can tell me that this place miraculously moved two thousand miles. You must be mistaken."

"I am not mistaken. I know this is the place. I will prove it to you tomorrow night."

"How are you going to do that? We are supposed to be at the Carrington's tomorrow night."

"This is the Carrington's estate," Mary said with a look on her face like the cat that had swallowed the canary. "You asked me to check it out, so I did a drive-by today. Imagine my shock when I found this was the place where the party is going to be held tomorrow night."

"And you are completely sure this is the same place that you and Sis were at?"

"I am positive. Tomorrow we will go up that drive, past some majestic oak trees. About a mile from the guard shack will be a huge mansion on top of a hill. It has a porch over the entire front with huge white pillars holding up the roof every ten feet or so. Large black iron lions are guarding both sides of the entrance. When we go into the main entry, you will see the largest crystal chandelier you have ever seen. And then the artwork on the walls will amaze you."

"Ok, we will see tomorrow night. Now can we find a fast food place and get some food. I am starving."

As we drove back, I let my mind work on how this could be possible. Mary was so sure that I was convinced she believed she was here. Was it possible that the house and bar had not moved? Had we somehow been transported to them?

Entering the city, we found a Hamburger Haven and went through the drive-through. We ordered two large cheeseburgers, fries, and drinks and ate them on the way home. As we pulled up to the house, I was shocked to see two police cars blocking the drive. We pulled up to the curb and parked. As I hurriedly exited the car, a uniformed officer approached me. I was a little unnerved when I saw him unsnap his weapon and rest his right hand on the handle.

Chapter Twenty-One – The Accusation

"Are you William Anderson," he asked.

"Yes, sir, what seems to be the problem?" I asked nervously.

"Do you know a man by the name of Ray Langley?" the officer asked.

"I know his wife, Sandy. She works for me. I have met Ray a few times, but I wouldn't say I know him." And then a horrible thought struck me. What had Ray done to Sandy? "Is Sandy all right? Did that son of a bitch beat her again?"

"His wife is fine, but I can't say the same for Mr. Langley. We found him shot to death this afternoon a few blocks from his house. Do you own a handgun, Mr. Anderson?"

"Surely, you don't think I had anything to do with this?"

"Right now, we are investigating all leads. Now about that gun?"

"Come on in, and I will get it for you. I haven't fired it in at least four years."

We proceeded into the house, and with the officer watching warily, I led the way to the front hall closet. "It is in a box on the top shelf," I explained. Do you want me to get it for you, or would you rather get it yourself?"

"Let's wait for one of the detectives. They should be here any minute. Can you tell me where you were around 5 this afternoon?"

"Yes, I was just leaving my office on Western Avenue. I followed Sandy home to make sure she would be all right."

"She told us the same story, although she wasn't as sure of the time. Is there any way that we can verify what time you two left your office."

"You know, I have always thought my alarm system was a bigger pain in the ass than it was worth. But right now, it is worth every penny we pay for it. When I leave, I set the alarm. The Alarm Company records the time. I have their number in my wallet. You can give them a call."

Just then, a man appeared in the entry. "What have we got here, Joe?" he asked the officer.

"Possible murder weapon on the top shelf of the closet. Do you want to retrieve it?"

The man pulled on a pair of latex gloves and carefully removed the box containing my 357 magnums. As he opened the box and carefully removed the weapon, he shook his head. "Right caliber, wrong gun," he stated.

"How do you know?" asked the officer.

"This gun hasn't been out of this box for years. It was cleaned and oiled just before it was put in the box. The oil dried into the cardboard. You can see the box pattern on the cylinder." He then smelled the barrel and the cylinder. "It hasn't been fired." Then turning to me, he said. "With your permission, I would like to take this down to the station and run a ballistic test. I know what I am going to find, but just to be sure we ought to do it. I will give you a receipt. You can pick it up first thing, Monday morning. Is that alright with you?"

"Anything to help. Now can one of you tell me where Sandy is? She has been through a lot the last two days. I want to make sure she is OK."

"I am afraid you won't be able to see or talk with her tonight. She went a little crazy when we told her about her husband. In fact, she was so hysterical that we called the psych ward. They admitted her to the hospital for her own protection tonight. I am sure they will release her tomorrow. Sorry that I can't tell you more."

We talked a few more minutes, and then they left. As they cleared the driveway, I took Mary's keys and drove her car into the garage. Only then did I go back into the house to find Mary. She was sitting on the sofa. Tears were running down her face. In her hand, she held a glass of straight whiskey, but her hands were shaking so severely that she could not bring it to her lips. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. I took the glass from her hand and allowed her to take a stiff drink. I then sat the glass down on the coffee table and just held her until the shakes subsided.

It took fifteen or twenty minutes for her to completely calm down. After that, I told her about the events of the day.

"My God, what more can happen to us?" she asked.

"How I wished I knew the answer to that question." I thought to myself.

## Chapter Twenty-Two – Mary's Prediction Comes True

Mary finally went to sleep from nervous exhaustion. My mind continued to work to try and figure out the day's events. I tried as best as I could to get some rest, knowing that tomorrow I would need a clear head. I figured the worst was yet to come.

On the way to work, Friday morning, I call my lawyer Travis Hume and filled him in on what had transpired at my place the night before. I told him about the police taking my handgun for tests even though the technician that had inspected it had ruled it out as the murder weapon. He chastised me for not calling him when the police first arrived. He made it plain that I was not to talk with them again without him being present. I asked him if he could check on Sandy for me. He told me he would check but that he would not be able to represent her since there could be a conflict of interest. Admonishing me again not to talk with anyone about the case, he hung up.

Mary had also promised to look in on Sandy, so I felt confident that at least she would have a friendly face to view that day.

I arrived at work and busied myself with the day at hand. Without Sandy there, I spent a significant amount of time just answering the phones. Before I knew it, the day had passed, and I rushed home.

Mary was busy getting dressed when I entered. I am always amazed at how much work a woman goes through just to make sure she is attractive to men. And attractive she was. Her hair was immaculately done, her makeup was perfect, and the dress she wore was the most provocative I had ever seen. It was a little strapless thing that barely covered the bottoms of her breasts. I couldn't help but wonder what held it up. It must have been some type of female magic. The skirt of the dress did not quite reach her knees.

"Wow," I said. "You are going to have every man in the room following you around all night. Are you sure you are not overdressed?" I laughed.

"Go get ready. I laid your black suit on the bed. We don't want to be late."

I went into my bedroom and followed her instructions. While she probably had spent the entire afternoon getting dressed, I was ready to go in 10 minutes. When I came downstairs, Mary was just slipping her feet into five-inch heeled pumps.

"Let's go, lover. It is time for our grand entrance."

We took my car, and as we drove, I asked Mary if she had been able to see Sandy today.

"No, they still have her under some type of guarded watch. No one would tell me anything other than she was now awake and able to eat. I am anxious about her. Did you talk with Travis today?"

"Yes, he said he would check on her, but if she needed representation, he could only recommend someone for her. It would be a conflict of interest since I, too, am a suspect."

"He thinks that you might be a suspect? Why? I thought the police were satisfied that your gun could not have been the murder weapon."

"If they thought there was no possibility, they would not have taken it for ballistic tests," I told her. "Anyway, Travis told me not to talk to the police without him being present. That is probably good advice for you as well."

We had covered a lot of distance as we talked. Up ahead, I saw a line of cars waiting to get into the Carrington's estate. Each one was being asked to produce something to the armed guards before they were allowed to proceed. It then dawned on me that they were being asked for their invitations. Panic struck me, as I had not thought to bring ours.

"Mary, we may have to return home. I did not think to bring our invitation, and the guards are apparently asking everyone to produce theirs."

"Ye with little faith. You don't think I would miss a party like this by relying on you to remember important details?" She opened her purse and produced the envelope and invitation.

"What would I do without you?" I asked.

"Hopefully, you will never have to find out." I don't know why, but that statement sent chills down my spine.

After producing our invitation for the guards, we were allowed to pull forward and through the gate. Just as Mary had predicted, we passed stately oak trees and wound up to a massive mansion on a hill. It was exactly as Mary had described. If it were still here tomorrow, I would know what happened to her on that Tuesday night. And then all I would have to do is find the bar. I did not see a parking area, but as I pulled to the entrance, two men in black tuxedos approached. One put a white ticket on the window under the wipers, and the other held the doors for us to exit. I left the keys in the ignition and got out so that the valet could park the car for me.

Before we went inside, I observed the front of the house and the vast pillars holding up the roof of the porch. Just like Mary had said.

As we entered the large entryway, I was surprised that dozens of people were not milling around inside. Usually, on entering a large party, people always seem to stop just inside the door, trying to decide what to do. We presented our invitation to another tuxedo-clad young man at the door.

"Mr. And Mrs. Anderson, we have been expecting you." And then he beckoned to a beautiful young woman wearing a traditional French maid's uniform. You know, a black satin dress ending mid-thigh, a neat little white apron tied in a bow at the back, the traditional maid's hat, and five-inch black patent high-heels. Later I was to discover there were a whole bunch of perfect clones. "This is Angela, she will help you find your way this evening."

"So nice to meet you, Angela," Mary extended her hand in greeting.

I turned to Mary, and in almost a whisper, I said, "Isn't that neat, our own personal guide?"

Mary didn't answer. She just gave me that look of disdain that said, "Oh, grow up."

After taking Mary's hand in some semblance of a handshake, she asked us to follow her. That really wasn't a difficult task. The view from behind was as pleasing as it was from the front. I did take a few minutes to admire the artwork hanging on every wall. Now I am not an art critic, but I would fathom to guess that the frames alone were worth more than I make in a year.

Angela led us into a vast room, which reminded me of a large hotel lobby. Spaced throughout the room were large plush chairs set around glass coffee tables. It was the type of place where couples could mingle in comfort, near enough to others so that they felt a part of the group but far enough apart so that they could carry on a conversation in private.

As soon as we entered the room, another of the tuxedo-clad clones approached us with a tray of Champaign glasses. We each took one and then continued to follow Angela as she took us around and began introducing us to the other guests. Although we knew absolutely no one, they all seemed genuinely interested in us. Or should I say, Mary? It was almost as if she was the guest of honor.

As we made the rounds, I was amazed at how the male guests were dressed. Not one of them wore a coat or tie. For the most part, they had on slacks and casual shirts. I began to feel out of place. Who would have guessed that at a party like this that the dress code would have been casual? The women, on the other hand, were decked out in party finery. While the dresses were all different, each of them was expensive and designed to show as much cleavage as possible. It was almost as if they were having a competition to see who could expose the most flesh.

Angela apparently knew that I was feeling out of place and offered to take my coat and tie. She helped me remove them and motioned for one of the valets, butlers, or whatever they were to take them.

Chapter Twenty- Three – Bill and Mary Meet The Carringtons

Finally, we were led to the far side of the room and introduced to our hosts. From the research that Mary had done, I knew that Phillip Carrington was a man of 60 and that his wife was only about three years younger. When we got close to them, I was amazed to find that Virginia Carrington did not look a day older than 30. Phillip, on the other hand, looked every day if not more of his age. As we approached, they stood up, Phillip offering me his hand and Virginia taking Mary's.

Without so much as an introduction from Angela, Mrs. Carrington spoke. Addressing Mary, she said, "Welcome, you must be Mary Anderson. We have been expecting you." Then motioning to the chair beside her, she asked Mary to sit with her.

I had no idea what we should talk about. What do you say to a man who is a total stranger and that you have nothing in common with, but that has invited you into your home?

Mary, on the other hand, without any tact whatsoever, started talking with Mrs. Carrington. "I have to know what your secret is," she began. "You look so young, and yet. .?

Mrs. Carrington just smiled and said, "No woman has to grow old unless they want to. Why don't we leave the men to fend for themselves, and we can go into the garden and talk in peace." With that, she rose and took Mary's hand and led her away.

I was trying to find some way to stop them. For some unknown reason, I knew that Mary and I should stay together. But without a valid reason, how do you express that to your host?

Just then, Phillip bent towards me and in almost a whisper, said, "I know you are wondering why you were invited here tonight. It is on account of your wife. You are not safe here, take her and go as quickly as possible."

I was about to ask what he meant when I looked up and saw Jack approaching. Phillip saw him too, and I detected terror in the old man's eyes. His hand began to shake so that he could not hold his Champaign glass without spilling the contents. Not knowing what else to do, I reached over and took the glass from him.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I am sorry, I have to leave," he said with a shaky voice. He got up and almost ran from the room.

Jack came over and took his place in the chair where Phillip had been sitting. "So nice to see you again, Bill," he said. "I really didn't know if you would show up. Mary is with you, I presume?"

"Yes, she is with Mrs. Carrington. You seem to have had an adverse effect on Phillip. What was that all about?"

Chapter Twenty- Four – Jack Explains

"I am afraid that is between Phillip and me. Are you having a good time here? You know Angela is your personal servant for tonight. She won't hang on your arm or cramp your style, but if you want anything, she will be at your service."

"Well, truthfully, I don't really know anyone here. I have to wonder why we were invited. I had a feeling that Ellen might be here."

"I am sorry to disappoint you. I know that you, too, have a thing for each other, but Ellen has been suspended from this assignment."

"So, you admit that Ellen is one of your agents?"

"She actually was one of my most valuable players. It is too bad she decided not to follow the rules. No matter how well you think, you know a woman, they can always surprise you. It is that awful thing called free will."

"Jack, I would love to chat with you, but I think I better go find Mary."

"In a place this size, where are you going to look? You could wander around here all night and still not find her. She knows where you are. When she is ready, she will come to you. Sit down, Bill, I know you have a million questions you want to ask?"

Somehow I knew he was right. I had heard something about the rose garden, but they could be anywhere. At least, Mary was with Virginia and not Bob. "You may be right, Jack, let's start with you telling what terrible thing Ellen did to get suspended as you call it?"

"That question, I think you already know the answer to. She was assigned to help recruit you. She not only failed in that assignment but also tried to warn you. That was a gross violation of the rules. Every team has to have rules, or nothing would ever be accomplished."

"Ellen tried to acquaint this situation to a team sport as well. Is that just because I used to play ball, or is there a larger connotation involved?"

"It certainly helps that you understand the team concept. In the beginning, there was only one team. I was one of the original members. But without a second team to compete against I got bored. I mean, it is like spring training all the time. You can practice and scrimmage, but without real competition, you never really know what you can do."

"Well, anyway, I decided to start my own team. That really made the big guy mad. I thought he was going to do me in right then. I explained to him that with me running one team and Him another, we could have real competitions. And then I played on his pride by asking him if he was afraid that I might win. Of course, at that particular moment, I didn't stand much of a chance. He had all the other players. No matter how good you are, one person cannot beat a whole team. So I asked for permission to recruit players from his team."

"And God just agreed to that, I suppose?"

As I was waiting for his answer, I finished my Champaign, and before I could set the empty glass down, Angela was there and took it from me. She then handed me a glass of bourbon and ginger ale.

"I hope you don't mind, I changed your drink. There is nothing worse than a Champaign hangover. I thought you might enjoy this more."

"Thank you, Angela. Are you a mind reader too?"

"Nothing like that. We are given a complete profile of all the guests. We are required to study it before the party. I hope you don't mind. Is there anything else I can do for you, Bill? I am at your complete disposal.

"No, thank you. I am fine for the moment."

Jack waited for her to leave, and then he continued.

"It took a little persuading, but He really has a sense of fair play. He did insist on one rule, though. I could not interfere with anyone's free will. I really hate that rule. It has cost me a lot of good players over the years. I really wanted the only rule to be anything goes. But after all, I was playing on his field. I started out really slowly, taking a key player here and another there. It wasn't until He decided to create humans that I really started making inroads."

He then started to laugh out loud. It was as if he had just remembered the funniest joke he had ever heard. I waited patiently, knowing that he would explain the joke to me in time.

When his laughter had subsided, he resumed his story. "That talking snake trick was pretty good if I have to say so myself. Of course, back there, people were not afraid of snakes. I guess I could have used any other animal, but I got a kick out of slithering down out of that tree. The scenery was really nice from that angle. You could watch everything they did without being noticed. Funny how people seldom look directly above them: unless they are staring at the clouds. Eve was really gullible. I told her that if she ate from that tree that she would gain added wisdom. She would become like God. Of course, she could have refused. She had that thing called free will. But she almost tore that piece of fruit out of my hand and ate it with relish. Adam was even easier. He was used to having the woman for companionship and sex, of course, and he did not want to lose her. He would rather violate the rules and accept the consequences than to live alone. He never even considered that God could have made another woman for him. What a sap."

"You said he had the woman for sex? I always thought that the forbidden fruit was sex."

"That is a religious myth. God had already told Adam and Eve to become many and fill the earth. If they could not have sex, how were they going to follow that directive? Artificial insemination didn't come around for many centuries after that. No sex was never forbidden."

"So some religions are right. Sex was only invented for procreation."

"Wrong again! If that were the only reason for sex, God would not have made it so enjoyable. You know humans are the only animals that enjoy sex. The rest just do it out of instinct. But humans were given the ability to pick and choose who they would couple with and how often. No, He wanted them to enjoy each other in that way."

"So when did sex become a sin?" I asked.

"It never would of if people hadn't started believing that it was. There was no rule levied that said that people could only have sex with one person. Of course, back at that time, there were only two of them. But as they had children, they would have had a lot more choices. Anyway, as time went on, I was recruiting almost the entire human race. He decided to throw in another rule at that point. He said that I could not actively approach humans unless they indicated that they wanted to switch teams. I thought that would put a damper on things, but I haven't missed a beat."

"If that is the case, why are Mary and I here? We never indicated that we wanted to be recruited by you, and yet here we are."

"Oh, but I did not approach you. You came to me voluntarily. All I did was hang a Budweiser sign up, and you came right in. If you had driven past that night, we might not have got together for a few more years. Eventually, you would have come to me. And of course, Mary voluntarily followed her sister to that party. She was, even more, an active participant that night than you were. I really thought that Bob had her. She was extremely turned on. And then for some reason, she backed off. Maybe tonight, he will do better."

"And what makes you think I am going to let that happen? I am going to find Mary and get out of here."

"I can't let you do that. That would be fan interference. I would have to have you ejected from the park. You, too, have to follow the rules."

"You expect me just to stand by and watch you take my wife from me?"

"Of course not. Once you realize that you can't win, I am hoping that you will participate in the action. It is a lot more fun than just being a spectator."

I took another long drink from my glass, and again before I could set it down, Angela was there with another. She again asked if there was anything she could do for me, and once more, I replied in the negative. Before she left, she turned to Jack.

Jack. "Is there anything that I can get for you, Sir?"

"Yes, you can bring me what Bill is having. And bring us some cigarettes as well."

Chapter Twenty-Five – More Temptation

I watched Angela walking away. For some reason, the sight of her hips swaying as she walked began to cause an erection to form in my pants. I wasn't even thinking about sex, but obviously, my body was. In less than a minute, I was rock hard. Thankfully I was sitting down. If I was to stand up, I was afraid I might be quite a spectacle.

Angela returned with the drink and cigarettes. She pulled one from the pack, put it between her lips, and lit it. Then she handed it to Jack to smoke. I noticed a lipstick smear on the filter and wondered if Jack would feel self-conscious when he put it in the ashtray. Somehow, I doubt if much of anything could embarrass Jack.

Angela then turned back to me and asked, "May I light one for you, Mr. Anderson?"

"No, thank you, Angela. I don't smoke."

"Just then, I heard Mary's voice over my shoulder. "Oh, go ahead, Bill. You only live once. Would you light one for me, Angela?"

"For God's sake, Mary, what are you doing? You have never smoked a cigarette in your life that I know of."

"Bill, we are here to have a good time. Don't spoil it with some stupid prudish ideas."

At that, Angela handed her the lighted cigarette, and Mary took a long drag. Not being used to smoking, she started coughing, and her face turned red.

"So, that is what you call having a good time?" I asked sarcastically.

"Don't worry about me. I will get the hang of it," Mary snapped back. With that, she took another drag and blew the smoke through her nose. This time she did not cough.

Angela turned to me as if expecting me to change my mind. When I didn't, she again asked if there would be anything else she could do.

I declined, but before she could go, Jack stopped her. "Angela, there is something you can do for me."

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Take off the dress and leave it here with me."

Without hesitation, she turned her back and lowered herself so that the back of her neck was about even with his head. "The buttons are all in the back, Sir. Would you mind undoing them for me?"

Jack reached out and began undoing the buttons of her dress, slowly and sensuously. When he had opened the last of the buttons, Angela stood up and turned to face us. Ever so slowly, she slid the dress off her shoulders and down her body. She then stepped out of it and handed it to Jack. It did absolutely nothing to ease my erection to see her standing there in bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and high-heels.

"Now, ask Bill again if you can do anything for him," Jack demanded.

"How can I be of service to you, Mr. Anderson? Don't be shy. I am here for your pleasure."

"Really, Angela, there is nothing I desire. I would like to talk to my wife now. Would you and Jack excuse us?"

Mary then interrupted. "Are you sure, Bill? You look a little uptight to me. Maybe Angela could give you a quick blowjob to help calm you down. Would you like to do that, Angela?"

Angela turned back to me and dropped to her knees in front of me. She then began reaching out for my zipper. I almost had to push her away to get her to stop. "Please leave us." I snapped at her.

She got back to her feet, apologized, and walked away. The rearview was even more attractive without the dress. I wondered how embarrassed she would be dressed or undressed like that when everyone else was still wearing clothes.

I then turned to Jack and said. "Is it a violation of the rules for me to talk with my wife alone?"

"Of course not Bill. But don't be too long. I believe that we are going to eat shortly and maybe take a dip in the pool after that."

When he was gone, I slid Mary's chair close to mine. I did not know if it would do any good to whisper, but I really didn't want anyone else to hear what I was about to say. "Mary, we have got to get out of here right now. We are in danger here. Even Mr. Carrington tried to warn me."

"Yes, Virginia told me that her husband is a little paranoid. He thinks she is possessed by the Devil? Maybe you two should get together and share the same shrink."

"Mary, how can you say things like that after all we have been through? How do you explain this house being here when you went to a party in North Carolina at the same house? How do you explain the disappearing bar?"

"The word hallucination comes to mind. I do not believe in some evil power transporting buildings across the country. Loosen up, and let's enjoy ourselves." Mary then reached across and laid her hand on top of my pants directly over my zipper. "Why you hypocrite." She exclaimed. And in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the room, "You're sitting here with a hard-on, and you are telling me that you want to leave for my protection? You just want me to take you home and relieve your pressure that was caused by another woman. You should have taken Angela up on her offer. You are not going to get any from me tonight."

"Mary, I don't know why I have an erection. I think somebody slipped something into my drink or spiked the Champaign with Viagra."

"I hope so." She replied. "If all these men are as hard as you are, I might really enjoy myself tonight."

Chapter Twenty-Six – The Dinner Party

Before I could answer, Angela returned and announced it was time for dinner. A young man joined her and offered his arm to Mary. Then Angela took my hand and led me into the grand ballroom. I was still rock hard and terribly embarrassed, imagining that everyone in the room was staring at me.

As is the custom at some parties where people are not familiar with one another, Mary and I were not seated together. She sat on the left side of the table, between two handsome men and I was sitting on the right at the far end between Mrs. Carrington and another beautiful woman. I looked around, but I did not see Mr. Carrington anywhere.

I turned to Mrs. Carrington and asked her where Phillip was.

"Oh, he had one of his spells. We had to give him some medication and send him to bed. Sometimes he has hallucinations. I hope that I will be a passable replacement for him for dinner?"

I then felt her high heel shoe begin caressing the side of my leg. The woman on the other side of me, almost on cue, rested her hand on the inside of my knee. I felt like I was sandwiched between temptations. I looked across the table at Mary and saw that she had a broad smile on her face. Once or twice, I saw her squirm slightly in her chair, and her cheeks flush. I imagined that she was probably having a little temptation of her own. I just hoped that she was not enjoying herself too much.

Soon, Angela and fourteen of her fellow maids began serving food. Each of the maids had now removed their dresses as Angela had done earlier. Fifteen of the most beautiful women in the world dressed in their underwear serving steaming plates of crab legs, raw oysters, and beef ribs. And, of course, they brought more alcohol to keep things bubbling along.

As I watched the maids perform their service, I couldn't help but think of the interview process that had to have gone on before they were hired. In this day of sexual harassment, lawsuits, it amazed me to think how something like this could happen. What questions were asked? "How do you look wearing nothing but garters and heels?" That would typically bring the labor board down on you immediately. It dawned on me that you would already have to know that these women would not mind doing this. I smelled Jack's involvement in this as well.

We ate in relative quiet for having as many people at the table as we did. It seemed that most of the conversations were being conducted in low voices as if they were discussing the most intimate details of their lives. I watched Mary from time to time, almost constantly, if the truth were known. She seemed to be having the time of her life. A huge smile spread across her face. She often laughed as if her two companions were telling a constant string of jokes. I couldn't wait for dinner to end so that I could get Mary and make our exit.

Just then, Mrs. Carrington reached below the table and squeezed the inside of my thigh. I reached down and as stealthily as possible, removed her hand. She looked at me with a scowl. "You don't seem to be enjoying yourself very much," she said. "Don't you find the present company acceptable?"

"Look," Mrs. Carrington. "I am a happily married man. You are a gorgeous woman, but I have no intention of violating my marriage vows, with you or any other woman."

"Well, you will be the only one at this party, including your sweet young wife who will remain faithful to their vows tonight."

"And just what makes you so sure that Mary is ready to commit adultery?"

"I had a little talk with her earlier. Did you know that she is terribly frightened by the possibility of growing old? She was quite impressed when I told her that the secret to my youth was stress relief. No matter how experienced or skilled a husband is, he cannot hope to completely satisfy a woman. Sooner or later, she will become frustrated and stressed out. Then the aging process starts. On the other hand, if she has as many lovers as she can handle, she is completely at ease. She then retains her youth."

"And she bought that load of crap? What about aids and sexually transmitted diseases? I would think those two things would cause considerable stress. I know that aids cause rapid aging."

"Those diseases can be avoided. Look around you tonight. I can assure you that not one of these people has such a disease. They would not have been invited here if they did."

"You cannot tell whether a person has a sexually transmitted disease by looking at them. I suppose you have their signed doctor's statements. Maybe you have been lucky and have not contracted anything, but most people that are promiscuous do."

"I can see that you are not going to listen to reason," Virginia spat. "If Jack were not so adamant that he can handle you, I would have you removed from the premises right now."

"It won't be necessary to have me removed. As soon as I can get Mary, we will be leaving on our own." I informed her.

"I am afraid that Mary will not be leaving with you. Look at her. She is having the time of her life. Do you notice that the man to her right has his left arm under the table, and the man to her left has his right arm under the table? What do you suppose they are doing? If you look closely enough, she leans back in her chair quite often. Is that normal behavior for her? If you would like, I can have her stand up so you won't have to wonder what they are doing. I am sure the other guests would get a kick out of it as well."

I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed back my chair and left the table. I tried to attract Mary's attention, hoping to get her to follow me from the room. She either did not notice or refuse to acknowledge my departure. I left the room without her.

When I returned to the room where Jack and I had conversed earlier, I was surprised to see that I was not the only man that was not in the dining room. There were half a dozen men gathered in one corner of the room and speaking quietly. Although I knew none of them, I was drawn to this group hoping to find someone that shared my opinion.

Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Observers

As I walked up to the group, I introduced myself. "Hi, my name is William Anderson."

"We know who you are." A tall, dark-haired man informed me. "How is Mary doing?" he asked.

"Mary will be fine as soon as I can get her home," I informed him.

"I am afraid that it may be more difficult than you might imagine." Said a man across from me.

"Do you have wives here as well?" I asked the group.

"No, we are just here to observe." The dark-haired man said.

"Observe what?" I asked.

"That the rules are obeyed." Said the dark-haired man. "We cannot interfere with what happens as long as no infractions of the rules are observed. We really should not be talking with you."

I had no idea what that meant, but for some reason, I did not think they would elaborate even if I asked. I made my way back across the room and sat down in a plush armchair to wait for Mary. I had hardly sat down when Angela appeared with another glass of bourbon.

"You look like you could use this," she said. "Would you like some company?"

"I am afraid I am not much of a conversationalist right now. Thank you for the drink."

As I watched her walk away from me, I wondered whether she had gone entirely over to the other team. She seemed genuinely concerned. Maybe she was just here to pick up a few extra dollars. It would make it so much easier if the team members wore uniforms. And a program to identify the players would be helpful.

As I sat there, I noticed streams of people begin pouring out of the dining hall. I stood up and made my way close to the door, hoping to intercept Mary. I did not know if I could convince her to leave, but I had to try. When I finally saw her, she was in the middle of the crowd. It was almost as if they were running interference for her. It was like a football line trying to protect the quarterback. I thought of yelling to her, but I knew it would make no difference. I would just have to wait for my opportunity. Hopefully, she would come to me. I followed the group at a discreet distance, keeping my eye on the back of Mary's blonde head.

As they passed through the next door, the group started to separate. A few of them went to the left, a few to the right and a much smaller group, including Mary, proceeded straight ahead. As I passed by the smaller rooms, I detected the odor of tobacco and the slightly sweet, overpowering smell of marijuana. It appeared that the guests were enjoying a multitude of after-dinner relaxations.

Mary entered a small room to the left of the hallway with another woman and two young men. One of the men I recognized as Bob from his pictures that Ellen had sent me. Just then, Jack caught up with me. "Bill, you know that I cannot let you interfere. If you would like, there is an observation deck above that room. Follow me."

I started to object, but Jack took hold of my arm and started leading towards the spiral staircase. His grip was like a vise, and I knew that to resist would be futile. So I followed, although against my will. He led me to a point directly across and above from where Mary and Bob were sitting. "Have a seat, Bill. I will keep you company. You have to allow Mary to make her own decision."

"And so I sit back and watch her sell her soul to the devil. Then she can spend eternity in the fires of Hell."

"Bill, where do you get these things? Hellfire and brimstone are a myth perpetuated by the religious leaders to scare you into giving them your money."

"And I am just supposed to believe you, the ultimate liar?"

"Bill, I am not asking you to believe me. Use the deductive power you were given. Would a loving father sentence his children to eternal torment? Does that make sense to you?"

"No, actually, it does not. But if not eternal torment, then what does happen to the members of your team?"

"I can't tell you everything, Bill. That would give you an unfair advantage. Surely a straight shooter like you would not want that?"

I almost laughed out loud at that. Here the personification of evil was accusing me of trying to get an edge to defeat him.

During this brief exchange, I had become distracted. When I looked down at Mary and Bob, he had his arm around her shoulder and had lit a joint of marijuana. He took a deep drag but instead of exhaling bent over and put his lips over Mary's. A few seconds later, what was left of the smoke exited her nostrils. She then took a drag and repeated the process in reverse. They continued to alternate until the joint was so short that it could not be held in their fingers.

As Bob set the stub down in the ashtray, Mary laid her head on his shoulder. He drew her close and took the opportunity to slide his right hand inside the top of her dress and cupped her right breast. With no shame, he drew the breast out of her dress and bent down to take it into his mouth. At that point, I felt all was lost. Mary, however, came to her senses and pushed him away. If they had not been in a public surroundings, I wondered if she would have done that.

There was an exchange of words, and Mary got up and began walking out of the room. I also stood up and headed down the stairway to intercept her. Jack made no effort to stop me this time. Apparently, Mary had exercised her free will, and my attempt to talk with her was no longer fan interference.

I met her at the bottom of the stairs. "Mary, don't you think it is time for us to leave?"

"Bill, the night is still young. I don't get to a party like this very often, and I intend to enjoy myself. Why don't you and I use that big pool downstairs? I need to cool off right now."

Chapter Twenty-Eight – The Pool Surprise

"We don't have any swimsuits with us, and I don't feel like skinny dipping in front of 50 or 60 people."

"No, problem, lover. Virginia told me that they always provide swimsuits for the guests that want them. Follow me, and I will show you where to change."

She led me downstairs and into a locker room. It was a vast room with stalls on each wall. As we entered, an attendant handed us each a suit. He gave Mary a two-piece suit and handed me a pair of white trunks. I wondered how he knew what sizes to provide us with. They seemed to be of some type of thin, stretchy material. Perhaps one size fits all. Mary went into a stall and closed the door. I went into a booth on the other side of the room and did the same. As I slipped out of my clothes and started to put on the trunks, I still had one very pronounced problem. The viagra had not worn off. The tops of the trunks barely covered my problem, and the bulge was clearly visible. There was no way that I was going to walk out of that stall in that condition.

I slipped my pants and shirt back on and opened the door to the stall. I noticed that the door to Mary's stall was open as well. Mary, however, was nowhere to be seen. I figured she had put on her suit and, without waiting for me, made her way to the pool. I exited the locker room and followed several scantily clad men and women. They obviously knew the way to the pool.

As I entered the pool area, I felt totally conspicuous being the only person there that was fully dressed. I looked for Mary and saw her across the way on the diving board. The suit she wore covered little of her ample body. She seemed not the least bit embarrassed. Before I could say anything to her, she took a headfirst dive into the pool.

I walked closer to the edge of the pool so that I could afford myself a better view. When I looked into the water, I was shocked to see all the swimsuits had mysteriously melted away. Everyone in the pool, including Mary, was stark naked. Apparently, some chemicals that caused them to dissolve in the water had been used to treat the material. Thirty or more men and women were now skinny-dipping, and none of them seemed to notice.

As if a referee had blown his whistle, the games began. It became an underwater tag with no one trying to avoid being tagged. Soon the pool was alive with twisting and turning bodies. And Mary was in the middle of the whole thing. In fact, she seemed to be the favorite target of both men and women to be tagged. There were so many people surrounding her that I could not keep track of where she was. She would drop out of my sight for long periods of time. I sat there for what seemed like hours, feeling like a voyeur looking in on a nudist camp.

Finally, Mary swam to the edge of the pool where I was sitting. "God, Bill, why didn't you come in?"

How could I explain it to her?

She didn't wait for my answer. She simply pulled herself out of the pool. Without even putting a towel around her, she walked towards the locker room. She was indeed magnificent, totally naked, and glistening with water, walking proudly as if she had no shame.

I waited outside while she changed. When she finally came out, I again asked her to leave. Although I could see that she did not want to, she agreed and went to get her purse. I followed, and Angela met me and handed me my jacket and tie. Jack met us at the door and spoke to Mary. "Are you sure you are ready to leave?"

"I think I have caused Bill enough aggravation for one night. Thank you for a wonderful party."

We walked outside, and as if by magic, our car appeared. A young man on each side of the vehicle opened our doors, helped us in, and then closed the doors behind us. I began to wish that I were rich enough to afford such good help.

I started the car and headed down the driveway. As we approached the guard shack, I half expected one of the guards to stop us. But, they simply waved us through. As I pulled onto the highway, I uttered a huge sigh of relief. Maybe at some point in the future, we would have to face the devil again, but for tonight, we were safe.

I tried to talk to Mary, but it was plain that she still was a little peeved. I reached over and touched her arm, but she pulled away. We were approximately a mile from the Carrington's gate when I looked in the mirror. Red and blue lights were flashing behind me. There was no doubt that I was the object of their attention.

I pulled the car over onto the side of the road. I prayed that the drinks I had consumed had worn off. At that moment, I wished I were a smoker. The smell of tobacco smoke might mask the smell of alcohol.

Chapter Twenty-Nine – The Devil Does Not Give Up

I watched in the mirror as the uniformed officer cautiously made his way up the side of my car. I was a little alarmed when I notice him taking the strap off the hammer of his sidearm. I rolled down the window and asked, "What seems to be the problem, Officer?"

"William Anderson?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Would you step out of the car? Keep your hands where I can see them."

I opened the door and exited the car. I noticed another officer was on Mary's side but made no move to remove her from the car.

"Turn around and put your hands on the top of the car. Step back and spread your legs," he ordered.

I did as I was told and allowed the policeman to search me for weapons. When he was satisfied that I was not carrying anything that could threaten him, he allowed me to turn around and face him. "Can I ask what this is all about? I am sure that I was not speeding."

"I am afraid that we are going to have to ask you to come downtown with us. We have new information about the death of Ray Langley. We need to ask you some questions."

"Am I under arrest? I was just taking my wife home. I will be glad to come down in the morning."

"I am afraid we need to do this tonight." He turned and looked through the window at Mary, still sitting in the passenger's seat. "Will you be able to drive home by yourself, ma'am?"

I saw Mary nod in the affirmative, and the officer turned back to me. "I don't want to have to place you under arrest, but if you do not come voluntarily, I will have to. If nothing else, I could arrest you for driving under the influence. You don't want me to have to do that, do you?"

I knew I had no choice, so I agreed, and the officer led me to patrol car. As I got into the back seat, I saw Mary slide to the driver's side of our car. She put on her turn signal as if to pull out into traffic. Then she made a U-turn and headed back towards the Carringtons.

When Mary started back towards the Carrington's house, I lost it. I started yelling for the officers to stop her. "She is in danger. You can't let her go," I screamed. I tried to open the door, but there was no latch on the inside. I turned in the seat and started to frantically kick the door. "Please, you have to let me out. I have to stop her," I pleaded.

"Mr. Anderson, if you do not settle down, I will have to restrain you," one of the officers told me. "Your wife is not in any danger. There was no one else in the car with her, and she seems in complete control of her vehicle."

I resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing I could do to stop Mary or to convince the officers to do it for me. I banged my head one last time against the door and settled back in my seat.

### When the officers were satisfied that my tantrums had ended, they started the car and headed back into the city. We drove in silence. I had nothing that I could talk about without appearing to be a raving lunatic, and apparently, the officers had nothing they wanted to share with me. All I could do was to think about Mary and what a life-altering experience she might be headed for.

Arriving at the police station, I was led upstairs to an interrogation room, where two detectives were waiting to speak to me. A huge man introduced himself as detective Snyder, although I am sure his friends called him Bull. He was about six feet tall and must have weighed three hundred pounds. None of that weight looked like it was fat. He was just big. The second detective was a younger man who did not tell me his name. They led me into a private room and sat me down at a circular table.

I started the conversation. "There better be a damn good reason for bringing me down here in the middle of the night."

"Bill, is it alright if I call you, Bill?" asked Bull. "You see, we have one of our citizens found dead on Thursday afternoon. We could not find a single soul that had anything against him. As far as we can tell, he was a model citizen. And then we talk to his wife, and she tells us that you threatened to kill him. Would you like to tell us about that?"

"Model citizen, my ass," I thought. But I had been advised not to talk to the police without my lawyer. It would not be intelligent for me to ignore that advice. "On the advice of counsel, I decline to answer any questions until my attorney can be reached."

"Well, Bill, that is certainly your right. However, I am afraid there is no way we will be able to get hold of your attorney at this hour. We probably would not be able to get him down here until sometime Monday. We can hold you for 48 hours without bringing charges against you. I was hoping to get you home and back in your own bed tonight, but if you refuse to talk with us, I am afraid it will be quite some time before you leave here. On the other hand, if you answer a few questions so that we can get to the truth, we can get you out of here tonight."

I didn't know if they really intended to hold me until Monday, but I couldn't take that chance. I had to get back to the Carrington's and find Mary as soon as possible. "What do you want to know? I have nothing to hide."

"That is more like it then. Did you threaten to kill Ray Langley?"

"It wasn't like that. His wife, Sandy, works for me. You guys picked her up by mistake in a prostitution sting on Thursday. Somebody here sent Ray her mug shots. He went nuts and beat her pretty bad. When I saw her bruised face and black eye, I went a little ballistic. I don't know exactly what I said, but it could have been something like I'll kill the son of a bitch. If he had been there at that moment, I would have beat him within an inch of his life. I would not have shot him."

"Just what is your relationship with Mrs. Langley?"

"I don't have a relationship with her. She is my secretary." I said with some irritation in my voice.

"She refers to herself as your executive assistant," Bull said.

"If by some strain of the imagination, I am an executive, then I guess she is right. What does that have to do with anything?"

"It is just a point of controversy. Obviously, she views herself in a higher position than you do," said Bull. "In any event, it would not be the first time that someone was boffing his secretary."

"I am a happily married man, and as far as I knew, she was happily married to Ray until he beat her up. Nothing was going on between us other than work."

"Well, see that is another point of controversy," said Bull. "We had an anonymous tip that you were seeing a woman named Ellen Sanchez. We got a search warrant and confiscated your computer. There were some really steamy emails from her, and that picture is just beautiful. And then we find pictures of your wife with another man as well. That does not paint the picture of a happy marriage unless, of course, you two had what might be described as an open marriage."

"What does any of this have to do with Ray Langley?" I demanded.

For the first time, the younger detective spoke. "Well, it dawns on us that if you were screwing this Ellen, then you might have been putting it to your secretary as well. You say that Ray beat his wife because someone sent him mug shots of her. I find that extremely hard to believe. On the other hand, if he found out, she was getting a little at work? Maybe he threatened to tell your wife or worse yet your boss. You figured that the easiest way to keep him quiet was to put a bullet in his head."

"You confiscated my handgun. The technician at my house said it could not have been the murder weapon. What did the ballistic tests show?"

"That is another strange thing. The bullet that killed Ray Langley has disappeared from the evidence room. You see, there is no way that we can rule your gun out as the murder weapon."

"How in hell could a crucial bullet disappear from a locked evidence room?"

"That is an excellent question," said Bull. "But perhaps a better question would be why. At this point, you are the only one that might have a motive for both the murder and the removal of the bullet."

"Unless a cop killed Ray," I interjected. "Who else would have the opportunity to remove that bullet? Maybe the killer figured that eventually, you would get around to checking his service revolver. There would be no way to match the murder to him without the bullet. Don't you have surveillance cameras in that room?"

"Yes, and we checked the tapes. We can not find anyone that went near that bullet from the time it was logged in until it turned up missing." Mused Bull.

"How did you find out that it was not there? Obviously, someone must have gone to get it for tests. Maybe they picked it up and lost it on the way to testing." I said. "In any event, why am I here?"

"Well, while we did not see anyone on the surveillance tape go into the evidence room, we did see someone interesting entering the building: the woman on your computer. Ellen Sanchez. It dawns on us that you might have sent her to retrieve that bullet," said Bull.

My mind now started to work. Jack had told me that Ellen was suspended. I had assumed that it was because she had tried to warn me when we were talking on the phone. Was it possible that she mistakenly tried to help me by retrieving that bullet? But surely she knew that I had nothing to do with Ray's murder. Why then take a piece of evidence that could have exonerated me? I did not have to wonder how she got into the evidence room without being seen on tape. Jack appears out of nowhere, and I am sure that Ellen can do that little trick as well. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, "Have you done a background check on Ellen?"

"Funny, you should ask that," the younger man said. "The real Ellen Sanchez is dead. For some strange reason, I think you knew that. So who is this woman pretending to be her?"

"I thought maybe you could tell me. But again, I ask you why am I here? It appears you have nothing to connect me to Ray's murder."

"That is not necessarily true. You see, a witness has come forward. Would you mind standing in a line-up for us?" asked Bull.

"If I do, then, can I leave?"

"That depends on what the witness tells us," Bull informed me. "But it is your best chance to get home today."

"Alright, let's get this over with." I decided.

The detectives left me alone in the room while they went to set up the line-up. I knew that they could not have a witness that could identify me since I was nowhere near where Ray was killed. I was slightly worried, though, remembering Ellen's conversation where she had told me she could get someone to testify against Sandy. What if this so-called witness was a plant as well?

Eventually, I was taken into a room and stood next to five other men. The first thing that struck me was that I was the only man over six feet tall. If the killer was tall, I wonder who the witness would pick out in this group. When we were positioned, with me as the second from the left, we were asked to step forward, one at a time. After taking two steps forward, I was made to turn to my left and then back to my right. The whole process took about 15 minutes, and then we were led out of the room.

Bull approached me. "I am afraid that I have bad news for you. The witness positively identified you as the man he saw shoot, Ray Langley. William Anderson, you are under arrest for the murder of Ray Langley. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

I did not hear the rest of the Miranda warning. I was in a complete state of shock. They took me back into the interrogation room and sat a pad and pencil in front of me.

"Why not make it easy on yourself. If you tell everything that happened, maybe the prosecutor will go easy on you," the young detective informed me.

"I have said everything I am going to. I want my attorney right now."

"You do have a right to one phone call. I doubt that you will reach him, but you can try." Said, Bull.

They brought me a phone, and I dialed Travis' number. Just as the detective had foretold, all I reached was his answering machine. I left him a message telling him where I was and what had happened. After I hung up the phone, I was taken to a holding cell, where I was strip-searched and issued a bright orange suit of clothing. I was then fingerprinted and photographed before being taken to another cell.

I was relieved to find that I was not double-bunking. You don't have to watch very many prison movies to see the advantage of being alone in a cell. I didn't know what time it was, but my body told me that I was exhausted. I lay down on the cot and almost immediately passed into a state of sleep. While I was sleeping, Jack, Ellen, Bob, and Mary visited me. They all told me the same thing. If I wanted to save myself, I would have to come over to their side. They could protect me.

It seemed that I had just fallen asleep when I was awakened and informed that my attorney was here to see me. I was led to another room where Travis Hume met me.

"I got here as quickly as I could," he informed me. "Ok, tell me what this is all about."

I filled him in as best as I could without telling him about Jack or Ellen. When I finished my story, he became very agitated.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" he asked. "I specifically told you not to talk with the police without me being with you. They had absolutely nothing on you until you agreed to that line-up. Now I am going to have to do some fancy tricks to get you out of here. In any event, there is nothing I can do until court opens Monday morning. I will come back on Monday and bring you some fresh clothes and a razor. I'll go downstairs now and get you a toothbrush, some toothpaste, and some soap. Do you have a key to your house in your belongings?"

"No, but I can tell you where you can find one. I always keep a spare under a loose brick on the side of the house. Hopefully, Mary will be there when you arrive. She can get the clothes for you."

After he had left, I thought about my own words. Surely she would come to her senses. My real worry was what she would do before she did.

Late in the day on Saturday, my cell door opened, and a large man with a beard entered. He was the typical biker type with massive arms and an even bigger gut. He took a great liking to the bottom bunk, and I relinquished it to him. When you are faced with Godzilla, you do not argue about where he will sleep. I took my place on the top bunk without argument or complaint. I hoped that he did not want to socialize or perhaps sodomize with me.

He was quiet for a while, and then he spoke. "What are you in for?"

"I really don't feel much like talking. I hope you don't mind."

"Well, it seems to me that there is nothing much to do except talk," he said. "They picked me up in a bullshit drug raid. If you ride a Harley, you must be a drug dealer. God, I hate cops."

"Right now, I am not particularly fond of them myself. I am stuck in here until Monday morning because they stopped me on the road last night."

"Drunk driving, huh?"

"No, they suspect that I may have murdered my secretaries' husband."

"Wow, a real live killer."

"I didn't kill him. Hell, I hardly knew him."

"Yeah, we are all innocent in here. They must have had some reason to pull you in."

"Look, like I said, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Have it your way," he said.

I spent the rest of the night in silence, thinking about all the things that had gone wrong in my life in less than two weeks.

Sunday morning arrived with a clanging against the bars. I guess that is the jailhouse version of the alarm clock. We were given a few minutes to figure out who we were, and then we were herded into the showers. I have never seen so many naked men in my life. The one thing that kept going through my mind was, "don't drop the soap." Once the original fear had subsided, I decided that being clean for the first time in almost 48 hours was not a bad idea.

After toweling off, we were returned to our cells. At some point for the fourth time since I had arrived, they brought what they called food to the cell. This was not something that you would eat anywhere else unless you were stranded on a desert island. But at least it was room service.

In the middle of the afternoon, I was brought out of my cell and informed that I had a visitor. This time I was taken to a room with a glass shield where I could talk to my visitor via telephone. Imagine my surprise when I looked out and seen Phillip Carrington on the other side of the glass. I picked up the phone, and Mr. Carrington did likewise. "What a surprise," I said into the phone.

"I just want you to know how sorry I am that this has happened to you."

"What can you tell me about Mary?" I asked.

"Not much, I am afraid. They took me to my room and sedated me. I only learned about you being arrested when I heard Jack talking with my wife. I haven't seen Mary. Of course, with a place as big as that, she could be anywhere, or she could be home waiting for you."

"I hope it is the latter, but I am not really confident right now. She is acting extremely strange. For all these years, she has been the ideal wife. Now she seems to want something more than I can give her."

"I know what you mean. Virginia used to dote on me. One day she totally changed. She became demanding and overbearing. I loved her, so I put up with it for a long time. Finally, I put my foot down and told her to straighten up or to leave. Shortly after that, I found out that she had somehow acquired 51% of my companies stock. If I wanted to keep my position, I had to do what she told me to. She has worn the pants in the family ever since. As I grew old, she hasn't aged a day. I know she made some deal with the devil. Everyone thinks that I am crazy."

"Not everyone, Mr. Carrington. I, too, believe that evil is at work in that house. What I do not understand is why Jack chooses us as targets. In your case, perhaps because you were rich and famous. I am neither."

"I think the common denominator is that we are both married to exceptional women. Once he controls our wives, it is an easy step to controlling us."

"It appears that it did not work with you. You haven't gone over to the other team, have you?"

"No, but I have been tempted to many times. Virginia puts constant pressure on me. It was really hard when I was younger. But now, I am close to death. What would be the point of selling my soul now? What could he offer me? Not eternal youth, that is for sure."

"Has he ever offered to restore your youth? That would be a powerful temptation."

"Even Jack can't do that. He does not have the power to create. He cannot restore what you have already lost."

"What about Ellen?" I asked.

"Ellen?" Phillip looked at me with a blank expression.

"I was sure you would know who she was. She was my original temptation. Then I found out that she had died many years before. How did Jack pull that one off? He must have restored her to life."

"That sure is a strange one. I am afraid that I do not know the answer to that. Maybe you should ask a priest or a minister. For my part, I talk with God a lot, but he never answers me. I take solace in the scripture that says He will not give me more than I can bear. I just wished he didn't have so much confidence in me. Well, I better be going. I am surprised that they let me get off the property. If you need legal representation, I can recommend a good attorney."

"Thank you for coming by, Mr. Carrington. I do have an excellent attorney, but I appreciate the offer. There is something you can do for me, however."

"Anything, just name it."

"If you should see Mary, tell her I still love her."

"I will do my best." And then he hung up the phone and left the room.

As I was led back to my cell, I was thankful that at least one good man had been able to resist the temptation of the dark side. It gave me hope that I could get through this as well.

Sunday ended with no further surprises. When I was awakened Monday morning, I was taken to a private shower room and allowed to shave and change into the clothes that Travis had left with them. Then I was taken directly to the courthouse for my arraignment.

Chapter Thirty – Justice Prevails

Travis met me outside of the courtroom. "Listen, Bill, I think we can get this thing tossed out. They will ask for your plea, and I will plead not guilty for you. Then I am going to ask for an audience in chambers. You will accompany me but will not say anything unless you are asked directly. Is that clear?"

"My lips are sealed for a change," I said with a smile.

Everything went just as Travis had predicted. He asked for a sidebar, which was granted. And then we went into the judges' chambers. The judge was a middle-aged woman. I don't know why, but I took comfort from that fact. I guess I figured she had not sold her soul to Jack for eternal youth.

Ok, Mr. Hume, why are we here?" the judge asked.

"Your Honor, my client was arrested without good cause. The police had absolutely no evidence against him until they trumped up that phony lineup. In the process, they violated about every civil right you could imagine. They stopped him with no probable cause to do so. They then forced him to go to the police station for questioning without charging him. They denied him the right to talk with me after he requested it. And finally, the lineup was rigged so that he could have been the only person to be identified."

"Ok," she said, turning to the district attorney, a little man with beady eyes. "Why don't you tell your side of the story?" Had you issued a warrant for Mr. Anderson's arrest prior to him being stopped by the police, Friday night?

"No, the detectives received an anonymous tip from a man who told them he had seen Mr. Anderson commit the murder. They then dispatched a unit to his home to question him. It was just by chance that they came up behind Mr. Anderson on the road and stopped him. He came willingly to the station."

"Very convenient. They just happened to be 20 miles out in the country when they were told to go to Mr. Anderson's house. And it just happens that Mr. Anderson was in that same vicinity. If I am not mistaken, the Sheriff's department normally patrols that stretch of road? Is that the way it happened, Mr. Anderson?"

"Not quite, Your Honor," I answered. "I saw the lights in my mirror and pulled over to the side of the road. I was told to get out of my vehicle, and I was patted down for weapons. They then told me that I had to come with them for questioning. I originally refused, but they told me if I did not come willingly, they would arrest me and take me anyway."

The judge again turned to the district attorney. "Have you had the opportunity to get the officers' side of this story?"

"No, Your Honor. But they are waiting outside."

"Well, then bring them in," she said.

When the officers entered the judges' chambers, she questioned them about the stop. They told her that I had gone with them willingly.

"So, you didn't threaten him in any way?" she asked. "Mr. Anderson tells me that you told him that if he did not come willingly that you were going to arrest him. Is there any truth to that statement?"

"Well, we did smell alcohol on his breath. We might have told him we could arrest him for driving under the influence."

"And once he was in the car, did he stay there willingly?"

"Truthfully, Your Honor, all of a sudden, he began acting like a madman. He was screaming for us to let him out of the car. He even started kicking the door. We had to threaten to restrain him to get him to stop."

"At any time did you read him his Miranda rights?"

"No, like I said, he wasn't under arrest."

"You refused to let him leave," she informed the officer. "At that point, he had to be read his rights."

She turned back to the district attorney. "I don't even have to delve into the fairness of the lineup. It is obvious to me that Mr. Anderson's rights were violated. Everything that happened after that point, including the lineup, is the fruit of the forbidden tree. Mr. Anderson, you are free to go, with the courts' apologies. You can pick up your belongings, including your handgun when you leave."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, thanked the judge and left with Travis. On the way out, I stopped and picked up my things. When they handed me my 357, I turned to Travis and asked, "How do I get this thing back home?"

"You have a legal permit. Stick it in your waistband and walk with an attitude."

I broke out laughing. It was the first thing that I had found humorous in three days.

In the car on the way home, I asked him what was going to happen now.

"The police have no case. The lineup has been thrown out, and there are no other witnesses. There is no connection between your gun and the murder. On top of all that, you have a pretty tight alibi. I think this is over for you. Go home, take a few days off of work, and relax."

I hadn't given my job a single thought. Travis was right; I needed to take some time off. But, I doubted that I would be able to relax for a long time to come.

# Chapter Thirty-One – The Surprise at The House

Travis dropped me off in front of my house after assuring me that he had put the key to the house back under the loose brick. He did wait while I retrieved the key just to be sure that I would be able to get in. My car was in the driveway parked way over to the side away from the garage doors. In my heart, I knew what that meant, but I prayed that I was wrong. I looked in the window of the vehicle and saw my keys lying inside on the passenger seat. I checked the doors, but they were all locked. I was thankful that I had another set of car keys in my dresser drawer in the bedroom. On the way into the house, I picked up the three days worth of newspapers that had accumulated. That further validated my suspicion.

As I opened the front door, I was flabbergasted. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado from the inside. I remembered the detectives telling me that they had executed a search warrant, but all that they had mentioned was for my computer and its files. The devastation that was in front of me told me that someone was looking for far more than computer files. The sofa cushions were thrown into every corner; the desk drawers had been removed and tossed on the floor. The contents of the drawers were strewn everywhere. I decided to take a tour of the premises to find out what else had been torn apart. Every room was the same. The cabinets in the kitchen stood open, their contents pulled out. The bathrooms were in a similar state. My bedroom was trashed. Even the mattress had been pulled off the bed. What in hell were they looking for? I immediately called Travis on his cell phone. He answered on the second ring.

"This is Travis Hume, how may I help you?"

"Travis, this is Bill. When you came to the house to get the clothes, did you notice anything unusual?"

"Unusual, how?"

"The whole house has been trashed. The police said they executed a search warrant, but that was before you got here."

"Bill, I'll be right back. I need to see what you are talking about." And then he hung up.

While I was waiting for Travis to return, I checked Mary's closet. It was hard to tell what might be missing since none of her clothes hung where they should be. I checked the drawers of her dresser to see what might be missing. Again since they had been thoroughly tossed, I could not really assess what should or should not be there. Just then, the doorbell rang.

I opened the front door to see my attorney standing outside. "Come in, Travis. Follow me and tell me what you think."

Travis followed me from room to room only uttering a few expletives. Finally, he spoke.

"Bill, I would like to blame this on the boys downtown, but this looks more like the work of someone looking for drugs, guns or cash. You need to call the police and get them out here right away before you start straightening up."

"Look, Travis, I really need to find Mary. I can't be waiting for the police to show up."

"Bill, I will make the call. Perhaps they will come a little faster when I ask than coming from you. But we really need to find out what happened here. These people may come back unless we can find them first. At least you have your handgun, not that it would be much of a deterrent if these were evil people. Assault rifles top handguns every time."

"Alright, if you think this is that important, make the call."

To my surprise, the police crime lab arrived in less than 30 minutes. It must have been a slow crime day in the city. They made the rounds, from room to room. It seemed like it took them forever, and in fact, they were there for a little more than six hours. Finally, the lead technician approached me.

"Mr. Anderson, there does not seem to be any sign of forced entry, do you have any idea how they might have gained access to your house?"

"I leave a spare key outside under a loose brick, but I don't think they would have found that and then put it back."

"Where is your wife, Mr. Anderson?"

"God, I wish I knew. The last time I saw her was when the officers pulled me over Friday night or early Saturday morning. She has been back here since then because she was driving my vehicle, and it is parked out front."

"Is it possible she could have let the perpetrators in?"

"Not willingly, I wouldn't think."

"I have to ask this question. Were you and your wife getting along, Ok? Is it possible she might have done this herself?"

"We have been getting along, as you put it, well. We had a little spat a week ago, but we patched things up the next day. We were at a party together Saturday night at the Carrington's. Did you find any fingerprints that would be out of the ordinary?"

"It is too early to tell. We will run everything we found through the police database, but it will be a few days before we get anything useable. We're done her for now. I suggest you lock your door, retrieve that spare key. I see you have a pistol, keep it near you, but don't be a hero. If something seems wrong, call the precinct. I will suggest that a squad car keep an eye out around here for a few days. They should be able to respond in a few minutes. Good day, Mr. Anderson."

I showed them to the door and then did what I could to put the place back in some semblance of order. In the process, I hunted for my spare keys to my car and fortunately found them where they had been dumped out of my top drawer. I went outside and opened the car and retrieved my keys. They were all there, including my house key. I checked the vehicle to see if anything had been disturbed. The glove compartment looked pretty much as it always had. My registration, insurance information, and a few dozen receipts for auto parts were still there. Why would someone toss the house and leave the car completely untouched, unless of course, they were already satisfied that what they were looking for was not there?

I had planned on looking for Mary today, but I knew that with the lateness of the hour, it would be dark before I could get to the Carrington's. I might stand some chance of getting in during daylight hours, but I doubted if I would have any chance at night. Mary would have to wait until tomorrow.

As an afterthought, I figured I had better check my company email. I connected my laptop to the phone line and fired it up. There were at least a half dozen emails from my boss, each one telling me to call him as soon as I received these messages. The last one simply said, "Bill, what in the hell is going on there. Your picture is splashed all over the newspapers."

I immediately went into the kitchen and retrieved the newspapers that I had picked up in the driveway. I found nothing on Saturdays or Sundays, but sure enough, when I unfolded Monday's paper, the first thing that I saw was my picture with the following headline. "Local businessman arrested for murder."

I picked up the phone and called my boss. As soon as he heard my voice, he blurted out. "Bill, what in the hell is going on there? Are you calling from jail, or did they release you on bail?"

"Neither one. The charges were dropped. I am a free man."

"Well, you realize that this is very unfortunate. This not only reflects on you but the company as well. You need to take a few weeks off and let this die down."

"For Christ's sakes, John. I didn't do anything wrong. Are you trying to get rid of me on some phony morals clause?"

"You may be completely innocent, but until you are exonerated, we need to distance ourselves from this. I am sending someone in to take over for you. Of course, you are on paid leave until we straighten this out. Will Sandy be able to help out?"

"I sincerely doubt it. It was her husband that I was supposed to have killed. I am sure she is considerably more upset than I am. The last I knew, she was still hospitalized for shock."

"Bill, I need to know, was there anything going on between you and Sandy?"

"Go to hell, John." Then I hung up the phone.

"The nerve of that asshole," I thought.

At least he had made me think of someone other than myself for a change. I picked up the phone and dialed Sandy's number. It rang six times and then was answered by her answering machine, "You have reached the residence of Ray and Sandy Langley. We are unable to come to the phone right now, please leave a message, and we will get back to you."

I hate answering machines, but I decided to leave a message on this one. "Sandy, this is Bill. I was just wondering how you are doing. Please give me a call back when you get this." And then I hung up. I wondered if she was still in the hospital or if she had gone to visit relatives. In either case, there was nothing I could do about it tonight.

I closed out my company email and opened my personal file, hoping to see something from Mary. I knew in my heart that there would not be anything before I even looked. If she wanted to communicate with me, she could just come home. How can you live with a woman for that many years and really not know her at all?

Finding nothing of interest in my email, I closed down the computer. Suddenly I felt the need for a real shower in my own bathroom. I checked all the doors and windows and found them all locked. Then I proceeded upstairs.

After my shower, I thought about just slipping a towel around my waist before going back downstairs. Then I thought about what the technician had told me about keeping my revolver close to me. A towel doesn't make much of a hiding place for a 357 magnum, and if I had to fight, I didn't want to worry about a towel falling off at the wrong time. Strange the things your mind makes you think about. I slipped on a heavy robe and put the gun in the right pocket.

I went downstairs and got a beer out of the refrigerator. Sitting down in my easy chair, I let my mind try to figure out the events of the past few days. Why would someone trash my house? What could they have been looking for? I have never had anything to do with drugs, I keep no cash in the house, and the only gun I own is the one in my pocket. Could it be that was what they were looking for? Is it possible that they wanted this weapon? If they fired it and retrieved the bullet, maybe they could replace the one taken from police evidence. But surely that wouldn't hold up in court. The bullet wouldn't have any of Ray's blood on it. That just didn't make sense. Perhaps it was only some common criminals driving by that seen the newspapers still in the drive. They might have figured that we were on vacation. Easy pickings. But then why didn't they take the TV and other valuable electronic items? It was apparent that I was going to need more than one beer to figure this out.

I drank my second beer and then decided to turn in for the night. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

I don't know why I bothered to go to bed, I doubt if I slept more than two hours all night. I just could not shut down my mind. This whole last two weeks had been surreal. I climbed out of my bed at 6am and made coffee. I did the bare necessities in the bathroom, drank two cups of coffee, and with my 357 in a shoulder holster headed for my car. In twenty minutes, I would be at the Carrington's. The drive was uneventful until I got to the guard shack. Then things got just a little weird.

Chapter Thirty-Two – Back to the Mansion

"I am here to see Phillip Carrington," I announced.

The guard looked at me like I had two heads. "I am afraid that will be impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," I said. "Call the house. I am sure Phillip will see me."

"As I said, it is impossible for you to see Mr. Carrington. He had a heart attack Saturday morning. He is in Mercy hospital. I am not sure if he has regained consciousness.

"Phillip could not have suffered a heart attack Saturday morning. He visited me on Sunday afternoon."

"I wouldn't be telling that story to very many people. You could end up visiting the funny farm. Will there be anything else?"

I thought for a moment. I knew Virginia wouldn't see me, and it wouldn't do much good to talk with Jack. "My wife has been staying here since Friday night. Her name is Mary Anderson. Could you call her for me?"

The guard turned and checked his log. "I am sorry, sir, but I cannot disturb the guests. If your wife wanted to see you, surely she would have called. Now, if there is nothing else, please turn your car around and leave."

"Well, there is more than one way to skin a cat," I thought. I turned the car around and entered the highway heading away from town and the Carrington's residence. There had to be a back way into the estate. I just had to find it. I slowed down to less than 30 miles per hour. What I was looking for wouldn't come with a large road sign. Sure enough about two miles up the road, I saw an old farm road heading in the general direction that I wanted to go. I put on my left turn signal and at a snail's pace, turned onto the rutted lane. It wound back to the left and came to an end at an old burned-out farmhouse. I left the car there and proceeded on foot. I am not great at directions, but I figured the Carrington's estate was only about a half-mile ahead and slightly to my left. I had only traveled a couple hundred yards when I came to a six-strand barbed wire fence. I knew it was electrified by looking at the insulators; it was wound around. I knew it was highly electrified by looking at the dead animal that had tried to crawl underneath. I wasn't going to get in this way. Of course, I could go back and buy a pair of wire cutters with insulated handles. But I also knew that cutting the wire would set off an alarm. Mary was very safe here: from me at least.

I made my way back to my car and grabbed my cell phone. I checked through the phone registry and found the number for Mary's sister. Hopefully, Mary had called her. She answered on the second ring. "Joan, this is Bill. Have you heard from Mary since Friday?"

"Bill, I haven't talked with her since early last week. Don't you know where she is?"

"No, I haven't seen her since late Friday or early Saturday. I can't explain the whole thing right now, but if you do hear from her, please ask her to call me."

"Did you two lovebirds have a spat?"

"No, nothing like that. I really can't explain. It is a little too complicated. Maybe sometime we will all get together and have a huge laugh over this. Goodbye, Joan."

I hung up and wondered where to go from here. The only friend I had on the inside was in the hospital. I didn't know if Mary was still inside the house or if she had left with Bob or someone else. Her sister had not heard from her. There had to be a clue somewhere, but Mary was always the one to do the detective work. I had no idea even how to begin. Then a thought struck me. If I knew someone on the sheriff's staff, I might be able to get them to exercise a search warrant at the estate. I knew that drugs were used there, but would that be enough to get the job done. They sure acted on an anonymous tip about me.

I knew I was dreaming. There was no way that anyone would execute a search warrant on one of the wealthiest families in the county solely on an anonymous tip. If I was going to be able to get into that mansion, I was going to need help. And then it struck me: if a woman were to call from inside the estate and claim she was being held against her will, they would have to act. All I needed now was a woman to make the call. If only Sandy was available.

In the meantime, I headed to Mercy hospital with the hope that Phillip Carrington would be awake and would be willing to see me. I had just entered the city limits when I spotted a woman hitchhiking along the road. Now, I usually would not pick up a hitchhiker, but right now, I needed a woman's voice. If, as I suspected, she was a prostitute, for a few dollars, she might be willing to make that call. I pulled over as fast as I could and started backing up to where she was standing. She came up to the car with a wide smile on her face. Without speaking, she opened the passenger's side door and got in. I noticed as she did so that she did not worry that her dress had slipped up her legs, exposing considerable flesh. Finally, she spoke, "Thanks for stopping. I thought I was going to have to walk all the way into town. Hardly anyone will stop for a lady anymore."

"That's alright," I replied. "Where are you heading to?"

"No place in particular," was her reply. "Are you looking for a date?"

I thought I would play with her mind just a little bit, so I said, "What did you have in mind: dinner and dancing?"

"No, I thought we could skip the meal and entertainment and go directly to what you would want afterward."

"I do have a use for a woman tonight, just not in the way you think."

"Oh, one of those kinky men, are you?"

"Wrong again. I need you to make a phone call for me. I am willing to pay you for your time." And then I told her what I had in mind.

She looked at me with a strange expression. "Let me get this straight. You want me to call 911, pretend to be your wife, and tell them I am being held against my will inside the Carrington's estate."

"Yep, that is about the gist of the matter. Are you willing to go along with the gag?"

"They have caller ID that can't be blocked. They would know that the call did not come from inside the estate."

"If you used my cell phone and we were directly behind the estate, even if they triangulated the position, they could not pinpoint it that close."

"You mentioned you would be willing to pay for this? How much?"

"What is your normal rate for an hours work?"

"That depends on the work. How about one hundred dollars?"

"Done, but you will have to say exactly what I tell you to."

"Write it down, I am a good reader."

I turned the car around and headed back to where I had just been. I couldn't believe my good fortune. It was almost as if this woman was planted there for me to find. When I got back to the old farmhouse, I stopped and wrote out the script that I wanted her to use. Then I handed her my cell phone, and she dialed 911.

When the operator answered with the standard, 911 what is your emergency, she gave the performance of her life. As I listened to her, I was amazed that she was not an actress. "This is Mary Anderson. I am being held in the basement of the Carrington's estate. Please send someone as quickly as possible. I am in terrible danger."

The operator replied, "Please stay on the line while I connect you to the sheriff's department."

"I can't. They are coming. I can hear them. I have to hide this phone. Please hurry." And then she clicked end.

"You were great," I told her. "Now, I will run you back to town." I knew that I would be cutting it close, but I didn't want her with me when the action started.

"Oh, no, you don't. I want to see this," she informed me.

"I am sorry, but that was not part of the deal. This could become dangerous, and I don't want to have to look out for you when this starts."

"Dangerous, getting in the car with a total stranger is dangerous. I do that all the time. Besides, you can't drive me to town and get back here before the deputies arrive. I guess you are stuck with me."

I knew she was right. When the deputies went through that guard shack, I wanted to be right behind them. Besides, I liked her spunk. "What's your name, anyway?" I asked.

"You can call me anything you like. In my business, names don't matter much. Why not just call me, Jean?"

"Alright, Jean, it is. Are you sure you are up to this?"

"I am more ready than you are, judging from the sweat on your forehead. We have a few minutes to kill while we are waiting. How about a quickie? No extra charge. It might help you to relax."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I am married, and my wife is in danger."

"How commendable, but I have sex with married men all the time. They are the best kind. They aren't looking for a lasting relationship."

"Jean, don't you want a lasting relationship? Do you really want to continue with this line of work for the rest of your life? You are a beautiful young woman now, but what about in another 10 or 15 years?"

Before she could answer, we both heard the sirens. I started the car and drove as rapidly as I dared, considering the condition of the road. I arrived at the entrance to the estate just as the first of four sheriff's cars turned in. I tucked myself in behind the last car and followed them through the checkpoint. They did not even hesitate at the guard shack, just drove past the guards who stood there with a dumbfounded look on their face.

As we approached the house, I began to worry. What if Mary was not here? And even if I found her, would she go willingly back home?

Chapter Thirty-Three – A Plan Comes Together

I followed the deputies into the house with Jean close on my heels. Jack was the first person I saw when I entered. He was accepting the search warrant from one of the deputies. He then turned to me. "Bill, you are really a worthy adversary. Why not sit with me while the deputies search."

"Where is Mary, you son of a bitch?" I demanded.

"Right where you told the deputies she would be. She is in the basement. They will find her shortly, in perfect health. Didn't the observer tell you?"

"Observer, what observer?" I asked.

Jack just smiled at me. "You didn't think that she was there by accident, did you?"

"You mean, Jean?" I asked.

"If that is what she calls herself. You see, I violated a couple of rules, so the Big Guy sent in someone to help you. It would have been interesting if you had decided to take her up on her offer up behind the estate, though. That could have opened up a whole new can of worms."

"I can't believe that an angel would pretend to be a prostitute. What kind of sick games do you and He play?"

"Judge not, lest you be judged. You aren't exactly lily-white in all this. Lying to that dispatcher. Shame on you."

"All I want is my life back."

"I don't want to break your bubble, but your life will never be exactly as it was," Jack told me.

Before I could ask him what he meant, I saw Mary being led towards me. When she saw me, she started running towards me. "Thank God, you found me." And she threw her arms around my neck.

"Come o, Mary, let's go home." I looked around, and neither Jack nor Jean was anywhere in sight.

After assuring the deputies that we would be available for questioning in the morning, we were allowed to leave.

And that should have been the end of my story. "And we lived happily ever after. Unfortunately, things are not always as they appear.

# Chapter Thirty-Four – The Aftermath

When we arrived home, I wanted to talk. Mary, on the other hand, wanted to sleep. I fixed her a stiff drink and allowed her to make her way to bed. I had a thousand questions, and they kept rolling around in my head, making sleep impossible. I checked the answering machine to see if Sandy had returned my call, but the light was not blinking. I decided to check my email and started up my laptop. I was immediately surprised to see that my mailbox was over its size limit. It was clogged with emails from an anonymous- sender. I opened the first one and notice the attachment. I scanned it for a virus and found none, so I opened it. It was a full-body shot of Mary walking from the pool back to the locker room, totally nude. The next one was just another shot of the same thing. In all there 007Awere 10 different shots, some taken from the front, some from the back and some side shots. The next was a group of pictures of Mary and Bob on the couch. They must have been taken with a zoom lens because they showed every detail, including the small wisp of smoke coming from the double inhale.

After opening them all, I knew nothing more than I had at the party. But amazingly, that told me something that I did not know. If anything sinister had gone on after Mary returned, there certainly would have been pictures. Now all I had to find out was why she went back. But, that would have to wait until tomorrow. I then checked the file, properties to see if I could discover who sent the emails to me. I got the address and wrote it down. That was all I could do until I could find someone with more computer knowledge than I had.

I saved all the pictures to file and deleted all but one of the emails. If anything important was sent to me, I did not want them refused because of the clogged files. I then shut the system down. Before I went to bed, I again checked to make sure all the windows and doors were locked and then made my way upstairs.

Although I did not have to be to work, I awoke the next day at 7A.M. I got out of bed without disturbing Mary. As I fixed the coffee pot, I thought about what I would do with the day. Until I found Mary, I had been fixated on finding her. Now she was home, and I was not sure what to do with my time. I thought that I should go to the hospital to see Mr. Carrington. He had been kind to me, and even in the worst of times for him, he had somehow managed to visit me. I also needed to find out what had happened to Sandy.

As I was musing about these things, the phone rang. I answered it to find that it was the Sheriff's department wanting to know what time we would be in to make our statement. I explained that Mary was exhausted after her weekend ordeal but that as soon as she was awake and ready that we would be in.

Well, at least that was one decision that I did not have to make. I put on the coffee and hoped that the smell would wake my wife. While I waited for the coffee to brew, I stepped out onto the front sidewalk and picked up my morning paper. I poured a cup and started to scan the headlines. I found nothing of interest on page one. Page two was the usual topic dealing with the city's money problems. On page three, I found what I was looking for. "Former Carrington estate raided by the Sheriff's department." It was a small column and said little except that the deputies had received a distress call from inside the estate and an unnamed woman had been rescued. It also noted that small amounts of marijuana and cocaine had been seized in the raid. It mentioned nothing of any arrests being made. I continued on through the paper and found nothing about Phillip Carrington or Sandy. It amazed me that someone who had been so powerful had been delegated to a no mention.

I had just poured a second cup and was about to check out the sports page when I heard Mary's voice, "Well, what is happening in the world today?" Before I could answer her, she bent down and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. She then went to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

"Well, you made the paper or not. At least you weren't mentioned by name."

"Good, I just want to put this whole thing behind us."

"I am afraid it won't be that easy," I said. "We have an appointment with the Sheriff's department. They want you to make a statement."

"A statement? About what? Who are they going to arrest: Jack?"

"Look, Mary, I want this over as much as you, but the police have a right to know what happened. We will go down there and tell them what we know. I doubt if there is anything that they can do, but at least we will have done our part. Why don't you get ready, and we will get this over with, and then I will buy you lunch at the restaurant of your choice."

"Well, I guess bribery is always good. But I am warning you; this is going to cost you." With that, she poured another cup of coffee and took it with her upstairs.

She had only been gone for a short time when I heard her yell for me. "Bill, come up here."

"My God, what is wrong, now," I thought.

I jumped to my feet and rushed up the stairs, figuring that something dire was wrong. Had someone else broken in while I was drinking my coffee?

When I entered the bedroom, Mary was standing in front of her closet. I could tell that she was not happy. "What is the matter?" I asked.

"What did you do to my closet? It is a shambles. Why in the world would you do a thing like this?"

"Whoa, settle down. With everything that has happened, I forgot that sometime while I was sitting in a jail cell, the house was broken into."

And then for the first time, it dawned on me. I had been so happy to get Mary back that I had not noticed until now that she had not even bothered to ask me about my arrest or anything else that had happened to me over the weekend. Suddenly, I was crushed. My loving wife either did not care about what I had gone through, or perhaps she already knew. I was about to bring up the subject again when she spoke.

"My God, Bill, they took some of my best outfits and that little white pair of sandals is missing as well. What else did they get?"

"I really don't know. The place was a total mess when I got home. I called the police, and they came out and dusted for prints, but I couldn't tell if anything was missing or not. At the time, I was more worried about finding you than a few material things. Besides, all the valuable items had not been taken. I never thought that they would take your clothes. Once we are done with the Sheriff, you can do a complete inventory if you would like. Then we can turn the list over to the police. Right now, we have other things to do."

As I walked out of the room, I realized how terse that last statement had been. I guess I didn't know just how ticked off I was. But it had dawned on me just how one-sided my marriage was. While I was worried to death about Mary, she was worried about a few clothes. I suddenly wondered if that was what Jack meant when he said the bar was as real as my marriage. Maybe both were only in my mind. What I did know for a fact was that my loving wife and I were going to have a long and perhaps not so peaceful talk tonight.

While I waited, I checked my company email. There was absolutely nothing there. That is never good news. By this time in the morning, I should have had twenty messages. I realize that I am on paid leave, but that never stops the computer-generated mail unless you have been removed from the server. It was apparent that someone was trying to send me a message.

The ride to the Sheriff's office took place in silence. I spent my time thinking about what kind of future I might have. I am not sure what Mary was thinking of. A deputy showed us to the room where the interview would take place. I was relieved to see that I would be able to sit in on the discussion. Perhaps I would get some of the answers that I was looking for as well. A deputy named Johnston did the questioning. He started with names, ages, marital status, and the like. Then he turned to Mary and asked, "How did you come to be at the Carrington place?"

"My husband and I were there by invitation to a party on Friday evening."

Johnston looked a little confused and then asked me, "You were there for a party? Do you normally hang out with that ritzy crowd?"

"I was as surprised as anyone when we got the invitation. At first, I thought it was some kind of practical joke, but my secretary checked it out, and we were indeed invited."

"What kind of a party was this?" he asked.

Again it seemed he was speaking to me, so I answered, "It started out quite normally, conversation and dinner. Later it got a little wild, and so we left?"

"Could you be a little more specific? What do you mean by a little wild?" he asked me.

"Well, after dinner, I noticed that some of the guests were smoking funny cigarettes. I would not be surprised if they also were using harder drugs. And then later, there was a nude swimming episode."

"Did you take part in this nude swim?" he asked me.

"No, they gave me a suit, but it was a little too small. In fact, it did not hide much of anything. I declined."

"And how about your wife?" he asked.

"She had a suit on when she went into the water, but it must have been treated with some type of chemical because it dissolved when she got in the pool."

"Oh, the old dissolving swimsuit trick," he said with sarcasm in his voice.

Turning again to Mary, Johnston asked, "If you left, how was it that you ended up back there?"

"Well, that is a little difficult to explain." Mary began. "You see after we left, we were stopped by the police, and they took Bill downtown with them. That is when I went back."

Johnston now looked thoroughly confused. He sat and scratched his head for a few seconds before he continued. "I am at a complete loss by this whole thing. I saw in the paper where Mr. Anderson was arrested for murder. I believe he was released on a technicality. Now, Mrs. Anderson, let me understand what you are saying. Your husband is being taken into custody for murder, and you decided to go back to a party that has been described as a little wild. Is that about the situation?"

Mary took a few seconds before answering. She seemed like she was hunting for the right words to use but was unable to find any. "I know it sounds bad, and in retrospect, I made a terrible choice, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"I could sit here and discuss your sense of right and wrong all night. But that wouldn't get us anywhere. You went back to the party of your own free will. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Mary said. But I wasn't allowed to leave when I wanted to."

"How did that come about?" the deputy asked.

"Well, when I got ready to leave, I was told that Mrs. Carrington wanted to see me before I left. She was supposedly in the basement. I went down there, escorted by one of the valets. I was shown into a room with a large screen TV, but Mrs. Carrington was not there. I turned to leave, but the valet was gone, and the door was locked. I screamed for help, but no one came. Fortunately, the room was fully stocked with food and drink. It was like a suite in a hotel. I was kept there until your men showed up and let me out."

"Is it possible that the door locked on its own?" the deputy asked Mary.

"I don't think so. It appeared that the only way to lock that door was with a key."

"Yeah, that was the report I got from the deputies that found you," Johnston said. "I have one question, though. If you had that cell phone all that time, why did you wait until midday Monday to use it?"

"What cell phone?" Mary asked. "I didn't have a phone with me."

"Well, someone made a call on your husband's cell phone claiming to be you. We triangulated the signal, and it came from the Carrington estate."

Then turning to me, he said, "Maybe you could shed a little light on this situation. If your wife did not make that call, who did?"

I thought for a little while. I really did not have a good explanation, at least not one that he would readily accept. "I really don't know how that call was made. You said the caller claimed to be my wife. May I assume that the call was made by a woman, then?"

"Either that or you can disguise your voice quite well," he remarked. "Look, I don't think we really have a case to bring to the DA here. Trying to get a jury to believe this story would take more skill than I think we have. Hell, I don't believe it myself. Let's just call this, no harm, no foul."

We had to agree with him. Even if I had been able to tell him the whole story, he would not have believed it. Think about it, would you believe this story?

On the way out of the building, Mary turned to me and said, "Well, that certainly went well."

I had no answer for her. Instead, I asked, "Where do you want to eat?"

"Anywhere where they serve crow." She replied.

"Would you settle for a good steak?" I asked.

Getting no reply, I decided to choose a restaurant.

While we ate, I decided not to push my luck. Instead, I chose to change the subject. "Did you know that Mr. Carrington is in the hospital?"

"No, what happened?"

"He apparently had a heart attack sometime Saturday morning. I don't know if he ever came out of the coma or not. I thought it would be nice if I went to see him. Would you like to go with me?"

"After everything that happened at his estate, you want to visit him?" she asked with scorn in her voice.

"Nothing that happened at the estate was his fault." I declared.

"And how do you know that?" Mary demanded.

"This is going to sound crazy, but he tried to warn me when we arrived. Then Jack showed up, and he hurried out of the room. And he came to visit me Saturday afternoon and said he would do what he could to help me find you."

"I thought you said he was hospitalized Saturday morning. How could he visit you in jail on Saturday afternoon?"

"How did Ellen visit me after she was dead?" I responded.

"Look, I never believed that it was actually the dead Ellen that you saw at that bar. I always figured it was someone impersonating her. Bill, have you considered going to a professional for some help?"

"So even after everything we have been through, you think I have gone bananas?"

"Bill, I have had enough of this cloak and dagger routine for one day. Take me home."

"Not before I find out a couple of things," I informed her.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Why did you go back there that night? Weren't you even slightly concerned about what was going to happen to me?"

"Bill, you kept talking about free will as if it was terribly important to our lives. I left the party because you wanted to go, not of my own free will. I figured I had to go back and then leave because I wanted to. I never believed that you were in any danger. The technician said that your gun had not been fired, and you were following Sandy home when the murder was committed. I couldn't do anything for you at that point, but I thought I could do something for us by going back. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, I am trying to figure out why they kept you locked up in a room by yourself for two days."

"I didn't tell the deputy what was playing on that big screen TV. For two full days, I was forced to watch pornography. I also didn't mention that Bob visited me on numerous occasions during those two days."

"Bob, did he rape you?"

"Rape, no, but he did try very hard to persuade me. Now, go ahead and ask the next question?"

I hesitated as if I did not know what she was talking about. Although she knew I did.

"Did he succeed is what you want to know." She said. "The answer is no. The funny thing is he might have if I hadn't felt like I was being forced. Strong-arm tactics never have worked with me. Are you satisfied now?"

"Yes, let me pay the tab, and I will take you home."

I dropped Mary off at the house, made sure she got safely inside and decided to go to Mercy hospital to see Mr. Carrington. I had no idea of whether they would let me in or not, but I figured I owed him the effort. I went to the reception desk and inquired. They directed me to the second floor and the ICU unit. I again asked at the counter and was told that Mr. Carrington had not yet regained consciousness. I asked if I could sit with him for a while and was told that usually only immediate family was allowed in the rooms. They asked me what my relationship was. I thought of lying to her but decided that honesty would be the best policy.

"I am just a friend. If there is any way that I could look in on him, I would appreciate it."

The nurse looked at me as if she was trying to figure out whether I was an ax murder or not. "As I said normally, we only allow immediate family. But since nobody has come to see the old man, I think he could use a little company. I don't know if he will even know you are there. But being alone is not good for anybody."

"You mean his wife has not been in to see him since he has been here?"

"Sad, isn't it? How could any woman leave her husband in this kind of shape without bothering to stop in occasionally? She must be a real piece of work."

"Yes, she is. Would you tell me how to get to Phillip's room?"

She gave me directions, and I entered room 203. It was a private room, so at least I did not have to guess which bed he was in. As it turned out, it was a good thing. Phillip Carrington looked 20 years older than he had the previous Friday. His hair, which had been gray, was now pure white. He had a breathing tube stuck up his nose and monitors hooked to his arms and fingers. I approached the bed and drew up a chair next to it. I reached out and tentatively took his hand into my own. I spoke quietly to him.

"I don't know if you even know that I am here. I just wanted you to know that I appreciated the kindness that you extended to me. I hope that at some time we can have a conversation about your visit to my cell. I am dying to know how you pulled off that trick."

I felt his fingers squeeze my hand slightly, and I looked to see if he had awakened. His eyes were still closed, but I swear I saw his lips attempt to move. And then I heard his voice, but it was not coming from his mouth. It was like it was being transmitted from somewhere in the room.

"Bill, I am glad everything worked out for you and Mary. I knew you were in a bad way. I hoped that I could help in some small way."

"Phillip, I pray that you are one of the good guys."

"That is why the Bible says, "better the day of a man's death than his birth." As long as we are alive, we can choose between good and evil. I made my choice a long time ago, but until I die, I could always change my mind."

Just then, a nurse came into the room and approached me. "I thought I heard voices, was Mr. Carrington awake?"

"No, I was just talking to him. I have heard that sometimes they actually hear things around them. I hoped that hearing my voice might cause him to wake up."

"That was a nice sentiment," she said. "But I am afraid that Mr. Carrington is not going to wake up." It was only then that I heard the warning sound from the monitor. I looked up and seen the flat line on the screen.

"Aren't you going to try and revive him?" I asked.

"We had specific instructions not to use extraordinary means to save his life. I am just glad that you were here. It is a terrible thing to die alone."

I was still holding his hand, and the nurse reached down and gently pried his fingers apart and allowed me to extract my hand. I stood and bent down for a last look at his face. It seemed utterly calm now. Somehow, it had softened in death. I reached out and smoothed his hair and said, "Goodbye, old friend. I am glad you made it. Someday, I hope to see you again."

Then I thanked the nurse and slowly left the room.

As I drove home, I had new hope. A good man had died, but he had shown me that there was hope in the world. Evil did not always win.

On the way home, I called Travis to see if he had heard anything about Sandy. He hadn't but said he would try to check to see if she had been released. I told him about being at the hospital when Mr. Carrington had died. He was surprised that nobody had tried to get any information from me. Generally, if you are in the room when a person dies, you have to answer at least a few questions. I hung up and looked at my watch. It was 4 in the afternoon. I figured that I would have time to swing by my office before going home. I pulled onto Western Avenue and headed there. I had no idea what I would do or say when I got there, but I had to go.

As I opened the door, I spied a young woman behind Sandy's desk. She looked at me and asked, "May I help you?"

I have always hated that expression. I guess that comes from being a salesman all my life. It has a learned response. "Nope, just looking." Think about it. Isn't that what you always say to that question? I decided to change it up just a little. "Why do I look like I need help?" I asked.

The woman looked at me with a totally blank stare. She was obviously flustered and said, "I mean, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Bill Anderson. Maybe you have heard of me."

Her hand went to her mouth, and her face went white. It was as if I had told her my name was Freddie Krueger.

"I am sorry, sir. I thought you were in jail."

"Nope, I got out early on good behavior. Who is running this place now?"

"Mr. Godfrey. I will tell him you are here."

"That's alright, I know the way." With that, I went past her and entered my old office. When I entered, Mr. Godfrey looked up to see who was coming. He was still caressing the magic box. I burst out laughing, waved, and left.

# Chapter Thirty-Five – Jack Reveals More Surprises

As I left the office and started down Western Ave, I felt just a little ashamed of myself. After all, Mr. Godfrey had never done anything to me. I didn't even know the man. To laugh at his imminent visit from Jack was entirely uncalled for. No matter what I thought of corporate yes-men, I should have warned Godfrey. Then when he ignored me, as I know he would, at least my conscience would be clear.

I had not gone far when I saw the familiar flashing of the Budweiser sign. Although I had no need for a beer, and Mary was waiting for me at home this time, I did feel like I had to stop. This whole thing had started at this bar, and I hoped that I could find a way to end it here. I pulled into the lot and parked. This time, like the first, there were no other cars in the lot. I looked at the building, and it was exactly as it had been on that first night. I knew what I would find when I entered. Like Yogi Berra once said, "It is Deja Vu all over again." I entered and again had to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. As soon as they did, I saw Pete behind the bar. The same three pool tables lined the far wall. This was definitely Jack's place.

In a way, I was shocked. Once I had learned that the party where Mary had met Bob was several thousand miles from where she believed she was, I was convinced that Jack's would be found in another city as well. Of course, there was always the possibility that I was not where I believed I was this time either. What I did know was that this evening would turn out differently than the first one had.

Pete looked up and again yelled across the room, telling me that he would buy me a drink. I knew that I had to reverse everything that had happened that night. "No, thanks, I will pass this time."

Pete looked totally surprised as if this was not the way the script had been written. "But as long as you are here, you might as well have a drink," he said.

"Funny," I thought to myself. Those were almost my exact words that first night. "That's alright, Pete, I think I best be going. I turned to leave, and Jack was standing between the door and me.

"You are a smart man, Bill," he said. "But it doesn't work that way."

"What do you mean by that, Jack?"

"You can't reverse what has already happened simply by refusing to relive it. What is done is done."

"Then why did you put this illusion back in place?" I asked.

"This is no illusion, Bill. It is very real. You could say this is your home away from home. Any time you wish to visit, I will be here for you. I think that very shortly, you will want to come to me."

"And why do you think that. I have resisted all your temptations so far."

"That was only because you had everything you wanted. Soon that will change. You don't really have to lose your job, you know."

"Oh, so here it comes. This is where I sell my soul to the devil for material possessions. Didn't you try that trick a few thousand years ago on a man named Jesus? It seems to me you offered him the whole world in exchange for just one act of worship. That didn't work out to well for you, did it?"

"He was one of the few that I haven't convinced."

"You weren't successful with Phillip Carrington either. He resisted right to the end. And so far, you have failed with me. And Mary turned you down as well. You must be losing your touch."

"And what makes you think that Mary turned me down?" he asked.

"She came back to your little party, and then you had to hold her against her will to keep her from leaving. Even though you sent Bob to her on numerous occasions, she resisted his charms. That sounds like a turn down to me."

"That might be true if, in fact, she did turn down Bob. Is that what she told you? The truth is she didn't try to leave until Monday morning. She was there of her own free will for over two full days. Did she tell you that? What do you think she was doing all that time? And we never did keep her against her will. She asked that we trump that up for your benefit."

"If that were true, then where are the pictures of her and Bob? You didn't have any trouble sending me the other pictures."

"I really don't know what you are talking about. I haven't sent you any pictures. I know Ellen sent you some from the first party, but she did that on her own. What pictures are you talking about?"

I was at a loss for words. I no longer knew what to believe. I was standing here talking with the original liar, and yet his words rang true. Why deny sending me those pictures? But, if not him, then who?

"Bill, you look like you could use a drink. Unless you believe that alcohol is a sin, why not join me?"

"Talking with you is probably a sin. If it is, I have already committed it. I guess a drink won't make matters worse."

"That's the spirit," he said.

I followed him over to the bar, and Pete poured us each a drink.

"Ok, is this where Ellen comes in again?" I asked.

"Would you like that to happen, Bill? I guess I could let her back into my graces if it would please you."

"I don't see how that would help her. At least she has a chance to go back to the other team now."

"I know you would like to believe that, but Ellen will not be allowed to go back. She would have to petition for that to happen. Ellen enjoys the life she now leads too much to do that."

"If what you are telling me is the truth, then why did God send Jean to help me?"

"I am sorry, but that was a slight exaggeration of the truth on my part. God did not send Jean, I did."

I looked at him, not knowing what to believe.

Apparently, Jack knew what I was thinking and snapped his fingers. From the far corner of the room, a woman appeared.

"Hi, Bill, remember me?"

It was Jean.

"Ok," I said. "You made a deal with Mary to deceive me, and now you are going back on that deal. How can I or anyone else trust what you are saying? I am afraid that I do not believe anything you have told me tonight."

"Again, I will tell you that you do not have to believe me. All you have to do is to use your deductive reasoning. Your house was broken into while you were in jail, was it not?"

"I figured you were behind that. What were you looking for?" I asked.

"Wrong again. I had nothing to do with that. Your wife set that up as well."

"Why would Mary do such a thing? If she wanted something from the house, she could have just gone there and got it."

"Think back to the phone call Mary made to Bob. What was it he asked to see her wear?"

"White shorts and her white high heel sandals, if I remember correctly."

"And what was taken? Didn't you think it strange that the burglars did not take anything of real value?"

"Are you saying that Mary trashed our house just to get a few clothes that she knew where to find?" I asked.

"And what if you had noticed that the clothes were missing? How would she be able to explain that? Mary told Bob that she figured you would not notice the missing clothes, but she did not want to take that chance. So she made it look like someone had broken in."

Ok, let's assume what you are telling me is the truth. Why are you betraying Mary now? Did she violate some team rule already?"

"I did not make any deal with Mary. In fact, I have not even had a conversation with her. I save the personal touch for special people."

"I suppose that I should feel honored. What is so special about me?" I asked.

"I am not quite ready to tell you that. I will say that you are a challenge, and I have always loved a game with a worthy opponent."

"So I gather that Mary has not joined your team? At least not yet."

"I will let you keep her for now if that is what you want. I will have to borrow her from time to time."

"And of course, if I try to stop you from borrowing her, that would be fan interference, right?"

Jack laughed. "I will waive that rule for you. Do whatever you think is best. It will make the game more interesting."

"Well, in that case, I think I should be going home."

"Before you go, I have something for you," Jack declared.

I looked at him with apprehension. I figured he was going to give me another magic box or some other lure for the demons. He simply asked Jean to get the bag for him.

When she returned, I was handed a bag of clothes.

"I thought you might want these back. Give them to Mary with Bob's regards," Jack said.

I opened the bag and looked inside. There I saw Mary's missing clothes and white sandals.

As I walked out the door, I looked back. I fully expected that the bar would disappear as soon as I left the parking lot, but it was still there in my rearview mirror. I made a mental note to come this way tomorrow and see if it still existed.

As I drove home, I looked at the clock on the dash and noted that it was after 11 PM. My first inclination was that Mary was going to be angry with me, and then it dawned on me that I should be the one to be angry. If any of what Jack had told me was the truth, Mary had a lot of explaining to do. The question was, could I believe anything she told me? "Strange," I thought. "I was leaning towards believing the Devil over my own wife."
Chapter Thirty-Six – Another Confrontation

I arrived at my house and pulled the car into the garage, and had mixed emotions when I noticed that Mary's car was parked on the other side. Funny, I had thought of nothing else other than finding her and bringing her home, and now I did not know if I wanted to face her tonight.

As I entered the house, Mary met me at the door. She wore a white see-through negligee that, with the light behind her, hid nothing of her beautiful body. I knew from the way she was dressed that she had unique plans for us this evening. Unfortunately, even if I had a drink laced with viagra, I would not have been able to perform tonight. I had too many visions of her and Bob running around in my head.

She came to me and put her arms around my neck and offered her lips to mine. I gave her a peck on the cheek and gently pulled away from her.

"What's the matter, Bill?" she asked. "I have been so worried about you. I heard on the news that Mr. Carrington died this afternoon. I was afraid you might have been detained by the police again."

"No, I was with him when he died, but nobody tried to stop me when I left. The truth is I was collecting your clothes for you." I handed her the bag and watched for her reaction. Her face went pure white. Her hands started to shake, and I noticed a tear starting in her left eye.

"Where did you get these?" she asked with a shaky voice.

"Bob wanted you to have them with his regards," I said. "Mary, is there anything that you want to tell me?"

"I doubt if it would do any good. Apparently, you think you know everything now." And she turned and left the room.

When she was gone, I thought, "Apparently, she has learned that the best defense is a good offense." I fixed a stiff drink and tried to find something to munch on. I had almost forgotten that I had not had anything to eat for the full day. But, now, my stomach was reminding me. I hunted around in the refrigerator and found some sandwich meat and cheese. I slapped those between two slices of bread and sat down and ate in silence.

When I was finished, I fixed another drink and made my way to the living room. I had expected that Mary would be up in our room, but she was sitting sobbing quietly on the sofa. I knew I should try to console her, but the right words would not come to my mind. Instead, I waited for her to make the first move.

"Bill, do you want me to leave?" she asked.

"Mary, I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. But that love was built on trust and honesty. I am not sure that is the case any longer."

"Bill, are you saying that you have always been totally honest with me?"

"I guess it depends on your definition of totally honest. Everyone tells little white lies to avoid hurting other people's feelings. For instance, sometimes, you are not the greatest cook. You ask me how I like what you have prepared, and I might say it is good even if I do not relish it."

"And the lipstick stain on your collar: when you told me you hadn't even noticed it? Was that another of those little white lies? Look, Bill, you have been under a lot of stress lately. Don't you think this conversation should wait until you are feeling more like yourself?"

"I am afraid the stress is not going to let up for some time. I think I am about to lose my job."

"Bill, it doesn't have to be like that. "Mrs. Carrington told me that she owns a large block of stock in your company. I could call her for you."

"And at what price?" I asked.

"When did you become so cynical? Not everyone demands payment for a favor. What could Virginia possibly want from us?"

"Our souls, perhaps." Was my reply.

"You are still not hallucinating about the devil, are you?"

"Look, Mary, you are not to go near the Carrington estate again. Do you understand me?"

"Since when do you tell me what to do? I am not your property. I am your wife. Do you understand me?"

That took me totally by surprise. I really did not know what to say. I had started out with a great offense, and at some point, I had ended up on defense. I did not even have a good punt left. "Look, Mary, can we let this drop for tonight. Shall we go to bed?"

"Separately or together?" she asked.

I lay beside Mary, unable to touch her, and yet unable to sleep. My heart told me that I should believe her, but my mind told me there were too many unanswered questions.

During the night, an early fall storm rolled into the city. Thunder split the night silence, sounding like the Gods were bowling. Lightning lit up the entire room, and the wind sounded as if it was trying to remove the shingles over my head. Through it, all Mary slept like a baby. Apparently, her conscience was clear. No one with guilt on her mind could possibly sleep through this. I, for my part, pulled the covers over my head and cowered. I was afraid that Jack had sent this storm as he had the dark cloud; to take away what little I had left. At some point, I fell asleep.

The next morning, having no place to go, I tried to sleep in. Years of early rising won out and knowing that I would not sleep, I crawled out of bed. I smelled morning coffee and knew that Mary had preceded me out of bed. I threw on my robe and headed downstairs.

Chapter Thirty-Six – The Funeral

"Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

Not wanting to get into a long conversation about conscience, I told another of those little white lies. "Like a baby."

I poured a cup of coffee and went to my computer to check my corporate email. Again my mailbox was empty. I then checked my personal email to see what other surprises might await me. There were no more pictures or anonymous emails. There was, however, a message from Sandy. She informed me that she had been staying with her parents. Ray's funeral was this afternoon, and she would appreciate it if I could make it. I jotted down the address of the church and closed out my email.

I went back to the kitchen and told Mary about the funeral and that I was expected to be there. I also asked her to accompany me. I could see that she was not thrilled with the idea and so I let her off the hook by telling her I did not mind going alone. I drank a second cup of coffee and went upstairs to get ready for what I viewed as an unpleasant task.

I found my black suit and shook it out, noticing a few wrinkles in the pants. I knew that I did not have time to have them pressed, so I hung them on the shower rack and turned on the hot water. I closed the door and let the room steam while I brushed my teeth and shaved. Then I turned the water to a comfortable level and stepped in. By the time I was finished with my shower, most of the wrinkles had steamed out of the pants. They would not be perfect but passable.

I deliberately arrived at the church late, just before the service was scheduled to begin. I found no pleasure in the thought of standing around with a lot of strangers. I figured I could say my condolences to Sandy at the gravesite. I entered the church and took a seat at the very back. As I did so, I heard the mournful organ music playing. I have always thought that the people who cry at funerals do so because of that infernal music and not because of any sense of loss.

The casket was set up in front of the altar. The lid was closed. I figured if he was shot in the head by a 357 magnum, the best undertaker in the world could not have made him presentable for an open casket. The music stopped, and the minister took his place on the podium. He started with a prayer and then launched into a long-winded eulogy about what a great man Ray had been. No matter what type of life you lead, you are always a wonderful person at your funeral. I think it might be refreshing if a preacher told the truth when he gave the final rights. I really knew little about what kind of man Ray was, but his last night on earth had branded him forever in my memory as a bastard.

The service ended with another prayer, and I left the church ahead of the rest of the mourners. As I made my way back toward where I was parked, I noticed Bull leaning against my car. I approached him, not knowing why he was here.

"I am surprised to see you here, Anderson," he said.

"Why is that? His wife did work for me, after all."

"Did, as in past tense?" he asked.

"Do all cops have such a cynical attitude or are it just my misfortune to run into you. Are you still looking at me as a suspect?"

"You got off on a technicality. I don't much care for that. We will be keeping a very close eye on you. Sooner or later, you will slip up, and I will be there to see you fall."

"Just what is it that makes you so sure that I am guilty of Ray's murder? I have a solid alibi, and you cannot tie my gun to the murder. Have you considered that it might have been a random killing?"

"I consider all the possibilities, including that you hired someone to do the killing for you. I still think that you and your secretary had a little more going for you than just a work relationship. As soon as I can tie that together, we will have another little talk down at the station."

With that, he moved away from my car so that I could get in. I started the engine but did not drive the vehicle until I saw the hearse begin to leave the churchyard. Sandy's email had not given me the address to the cemetery, and so I followed along with the rest of the procession.

Since I was one of the last to arrive at the cemetery, I had quite a long way to walk. As I approached the gravesite, I notice that many of the mourners were watching me and talking with each other. Like Bull, I figured they thought it strange that the man accused of Ray's murder would be coming to his funeral.

I stood as far back from the group as was possible without making it seem as if I was deliberately trying to distance myself from the others. From that distance, I had to strain to hear what was being said. Not that it mattered a whole lot. I have listened to that speech any number of other times at other funerals. There is little new that can be said when you are about to put a man into the ground.

I waited until most everyone else had spoken with Sandy, and then I approached the grave. She looked up as I came towards her and dried her eyes with a black handkerchief. "Bill, I am so glad you came. I really need to talk with you after this is all over. Would it be alright if I gave you a call sometime tomorrow?"

"Sandy, I am so sorry this has happened. You have my cell phone number. I will be expecting your call." I then put my hand on her shoulder as a form of consolation and turned to leave. When I got back to my car, I again saw Bull standing off to the side. I guess he meant what he said about keeping an eye on me.

On the way home, I called Travis to fill him in on what had taken place. He seemed surprised that the police would still be looking at me for this crime. He again warned me not to talk to the police without him present. Somehow, I thought that would be difficult. Bull would find the least opportune time for a lawyer when he finally made his move.

As I drove home, I wondered why Bull was so firmly convinced that I was involved in the murder of a man I barely knew. There must be some reason that had not been divulged to me. Surely, they could not merely be acting on that phony police lineup.

I was still musing over this when I pulled into my driveway. I pushed the garage door opener and immediately saw that Mary's car was not in the garage. I felt a wave of anxiety go through my mind. Surely she would not have gone back to the Carrington's. I knew she had a stubborn streak, and I had forbidden her to visit Virginia. She could have disobeyed just to show her independence. I closed the garage door and proceeded into the house. I checked the counters for any note she might have left but found none. I knew that there was nothing I could do but to wait, so I decided to fix something to eat.

I rummaged through the cupboards looking for something simple to fix. I hate eating alone. I believe that is one of the main reasons that men get married. Oh, don't look at me like that. I said one of the reasons. I am not discounting love. If all I wanted was a dinner companion, I could have purchased a dog. And right now, that option was beginning to look pretty good to me. At least when I came home, a dog would be there waiting.

I finally found a can of beef stew and heated it up in a saucepan. It dawned on me how far I had come down in just a couple of weeks. I was now eating one meal a day, alone and out of a can.

I turned on the TV and searched through the channels. Either I am too hard to please, or most people will watch anything. I finally found an old episode of "I Love Lucy." As I watched, I thought about how lucky Ricky was. No matter how crazy Lucy drove him, she was always there for him in the end. When the show ended, I switched to the local news. The news was halfway over when I heard the kitchen door open.

Chapter Thirty-Seven – Mary Tries Domination

I looked up and saw Mary coming towards me. I could tell that she had been drinking because she was wobbling unsteadily on her three-inch heels. Her words slurred slightly as she addressed me, "Hello, lover, don't you want to know where I have been?"

"I guess it doesn't matter much. I can't do anything about it anyway," I said.

Mary's face lit up with a smile. "Now, that is more like it. My little boy has learned his place. Now, why don't you be a good boy and fix me a drink." With that, she settled down in her recliner as if she was waiting for me to obey.

"I think you have had enough to drink for one night."

"Now, why did you go and have to spoil everything? Just when I think I have you trained, you have to go and rebel."

Not wanting to start an argument that I could not win, I got up and left the room. "Never argue with a fool or a drunk," I thought.

I had only gotten a few steps when I heard Mary's outraged voice. "That's right, Bill, run away. You're not man enough to do anything else. It is a good thing that I have other options."

It took every ounce of self-control I had to not turn back and confront her. I knew it was the booze talking, but a person will never say anything when they are drunk that they wouldn't say sober if they had the courage. Instead, I kept going on up to my room. I thought about locking the door but thought better of it. If Mary really wanted to get in, she would probably take an ax to the door.

After not having much sleep the night before, I fell asleep much faster than I had expected. When I woke up in the morning, I noticed that Mary's side of the bed was still made. I hoped that she had not decided to leave after our altercation. In her condition, I knew she couldn't drive. I made my way downstairs and was relieved to find that Mary was asleep in her chair. There was an empty glass beside her on the stand. Apparently, she had fixed herself one or more drinks and had passed out.

I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and quickly got ready and left the house. I picked up the newspaper from the walk, got in my car, and drove to McDonald's. At least today I would start out with something to eat.

Chapter Thirty-Eight – Another Trap is Set

I had just finished my second cup of coffee when my cell phone rang. I did not recognize the number but decided to answer it anyway. It was Sandy wanting to meet. I asked her where and we decided to meet in the parking lot at the office. We would be able to talk in private there.

I got in my car and proceeded up Western Ave. I passed Jack's place and was surprised that it still stood on the lot. As Jack had said, my home away from home would always be there for me. As I waited for Sandy, I notice two police cruisers pass the location. Usually, that fact would not alarm me, but after Bull's warning yesterday, I was feeling a little paranoid. I must have been deep in thought because I didn't notice Sandy until she knocked on my window. I flipped the unlock button and waved her to the other side of the car. As she got in, I thought she looked much better in the loose sundress she was wearing than she had in the black dress and veil she had worn the day before.

Sandy closed the door, and we started with small talk. How was she doing, etc.? Finally, she began to ask questions. "Bill, where do I stand with the company?"

"Sandy, I don't even know where I stand. Right now, I am on paid suspension. They have brought in some guy named Godfrey to run the office. If you still want your jo, you probably should go in and talk with him."

"So even the company thinks you are guilty of killing Ray?" she asked.

I looked at her trying to find out what she was inferring. "Just what do you mean by that statement, Sandy?"

"Why did you do it, Bill? You didn't have to kill Ray. I was yours for the asking. Hell, there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about going to bed with you."

"Sandy, where are you getting these things from? I did not kill Ray. You know I could not have done it. I was following you home at the time. And as far as you and I are concerned, I never even thought about you except as the best secretary a man could have. I am a happily married man.

"Not so happy from what I have heard. Your wife spending the weekend with another man and then she can't even wait to go to the funeral with you. She has to run back to him."

How could she know these things? Was she having Mary followed? Sandy, I don't know where you are getting your information, but believe me, I had no immoral intentions where you were concerned."

"Bullshit," she spat. I saw your eyes undressing me. You wanted me as much as I did you. And as far as Ray's murder is concerned, you could have hired someone to do that for you."

"That is what that fat-headed detective said. Have you been talking to him? I don't belong to the Mafia. I can't just flip through my Rolodex and pull out a hitman. Sandy, you are talking crazy."

"I know you are responsible for my husbands' death. I will see you in hell for that, Bill." And with that, she opened the door and got out.

I watched her walk away, not believing what had just taken place. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bull sitting in a car a little ways from me. Then I knew. Sandy had been wearing a wire. They had sent her to try and get me to confess. Fortunately, I had nothing to admit to. I did wonder how Bull enjoyed the crack about him having a fat head. I regretted that statement. I certainly did not want Bull any more determined than he already was. But what I regretted most was that I had lost a good friend.

I picked up my phone and again called my attorney. After I had told him what had just happened, there was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, he spoke.

"Bill, is there something you are not telling me?"

"What do you mean, Travis?"

"Well, normally, the police would not spend this much time on a case if they did not have more evidence than I have been told about."

"Travis, I think it is possible that someone is trying to set me up for Ray's murder."

"And who would that be?" he asked.

"If I tell you that you will want to have me committed to the Looney bin."

"If you hold back information from me, you may be committed to the big house. I will go into court tomorrow and ask for a restraining order against the police department. It won't do much good, but if they ignore it and come up with something against you, it might save us later. If you change your mind about telling me who this mystery person is, let me know." And then he hung up.

I had no idea what to do now. If I went home, I would likely have to face Mary's wrath again. I had no job to go to. I felt like a stiff drink, but the only bar I knew was owned by the Devil.

# Chapter Thirty-Nine – Time For Reflection

In the span of a few short weeks, I had lost everything. Three weeks ago, I had the perfect wife, a great job, and a fantastic secretary. Now, my wife was being serviced by another man, my job was being done by another man, and my secretary believed I was responsible for her husband's death. And to top it all off my best friend, or so it seemed, was the Devil. If I was not already in Hell, I was close to it. Think about me the next time you get the urge to stop off at a bar on the way home from work. Oh, I'm not saying that every time you stop at a bar that you will be visited by Satan, but how can you be sure.

Now I know what you are thinking. This story is becoming harder than a backlash in an open-faced reel to unravel. I needed to take some time to reflect on how I got into this mess, to begin with. Now I know that seems simple enough. After all, I didn't have a job to go to, my wife was demanding much of my time, and I couldn't think of the last time a friend had stopped by. It seemed that all I had was time. Unfortunately, weird things kept happening to me that seemed to keep me pretty busy.

I kept thinking back. Jack's favorite line was "things are not always what they seem," and Ellen had told me, "Mary is the key." I just needed to figure out how those two things went together. "Things are not always as they seem," I mused. Maybe I was looking at the happenings in my life the wrong way. But how else could I look at them? "Mary is the key." I thought that meant that to get me to go along with his plans, Jack needed Mary. And yet he had told me that he had not even invested the time to talk with her personally. As someone had said in the "Wizard of Oz," "it gets curiouser and curiouser."

I decided that it was time that I had a serious conversation with Mary. Hopefully, that could be accomplished without either of us going berserk. I started the car and headed home. If Mary was there, maybe I could figure this thing out. It is only a short drive from the office to home, about twenty minutes if traffic is not too heavy. During that time, I had to figure out what to say to Mary. It would do no good to have a repeat of last night.

As I entered the house, I caught the odor of food cooking. I had mixed emotions about that. On the one hand, I was hungry but on the other Mary was not such a great cook. And I thought there was always the possibility that the food may be laced with rat poison. I guess I could wait until Mary took a bite and then do the old plate switcheroo. I think I am beginning to sound paranoid, but "Just because you are paranoid does not mean they aren't out to get you."

I went into the kitchen and saw Mary stirring some kind of sauce in a big pot. There was a pot of water on the next burner which had not been turned on. I announced my presence and then walked up behind her and put my arms around her waist and gave a slight squeeze. I was hoping that she would not throw the saucepan on me. Instead, she turned around and put her arms around my neck and brought her lips up to meet mine. We kissed for a little longer than you would to say hello, but not so long that it was an invitation to go further. I gently broke the kiss and stepped back to look at her. She was as beautiful and radiant as I had ever seen her. No signs of a hangover, no wrinkles from lack of sleep and every hair on her head in perfect order.

"Mary, we really need to have a talk," I said.

"Yes, Bill, we do, but could it wait until after we eat. I have prepared a special dinner for us, and I want both of us to enjoy it. After that, we will talk all you want. I, too, would like to clear the air about a few things."

"Sure," I said. Is there anything I can do to help you in the kitchen?"

"No, thanks," she replied. "I have got everything pretty well under control. Why don't you grab a beer and relax? I will call you when the food is ready."

I followed her instructions, and with a beer in hand, went in to check my email on my computer. I started with my company email, just to see if anything had changed. I did have an email from my boss. With dread, I opened and read it. "We have decided that your services will no longer be required by our company. We will pay you the balance of two weeks severance pay in your last check. Please stop by the office and clean out your desk and collect those things that belong to you."

"Well, that is the end of that," I thought. I guess it is time to start looking for a new job. I had enough money put aside to last a little while, and I was an excellent salesman. I should be able to keep from living on the street. As an afterthought, I picked up the phone and again called Travis. I explained what had happened, including my altercation with John when I had called him the other night.

"Bill, it would have been a little easier if you had held your temper, but I still think we have a case for wrongful termination," he said. "Go on in tomorrow and clean out your desk. Give your HR department a call and see if you can get them to send you a written termination form. Do not respond to anything they say, just get that form to me. I will start investigating to see if any other cases are pending against your company. We may get lucky and find that they have been less than the letter of the law in other practices."

"Thanks, Travis," I said and hung up the phone.

I had just started to click on my personal email when Mary called, "Come and get it." Funny, she had never seemed like the chuckwagon type of cook before.

I made my way back to the kitchen and was amazed. The table looked like it had been transported from a romantic restaurant. It was set with our finest china, including crystal stemware. Candles provided the only lighting. As I sat down, Mary poured me a glass of wine and suggested a toast.

"To us, may we find the happiness of yesteryear."

"Amen to that," was my reply.

Chapter Forty – Something Strange is Going On

The meal consisted of a salad, and the best spaghetti I had ever eaten. Now I have to tell you that Mary has cooked spaghetti in the past, but it was never like this. The sauce was thick with meat and well laced with little bits of onion and green peppers. It was not so spicy that it would set the roof of your mouth on fire, but it definitely had some zing to it.

"Where did you learn to make spaghetti-like this?" I asked. "This is by far the best I have ever tasted."

"Oh, you would be amazed at the things I can do when I set my mind to it." She replied.

I finished eating and leaned back in my chair. I looked across the table at my beautiful wife and thought again how lucky I was to have her. Now, if we could only go back for three weeks and do them again without Jack, Ellen, and Bob.

Mary told me to go in and sit in my easy chair and that she would pick up the kitchen. I tried to object, but she was adamant. "Don't give it another thought. I will be in before you know it."

She was true to her word. I doubt if five minutes went by before she joined me: on my lap. She curled herself into a comfortable ball and put her arms around my neck, and started a long slow wet kiss. As much as I was enjoying what she was doing, I gently pulled my mouth from hers. "Mary, I really want to talk to you."

"Yeah, me too," she replied with a soft, seductive voice. "In fact, I think I feel a big subject coming up right now." With that, she ground her bottom into my lap.

"No, really, I mean, we need to have a serious conversation."

"This is serious, don't you feel it?" she quipped. "Look, Bill, I want to apologize for last night. I really don't remember much of what went on, but I assume from the fact I woke up in my chair this morning, that I may have been less than the lady you are used to. Please forgive me." She pleaded.

"Mary, things have been bizarre for the last few weeks. Nothing is the way it used to be. We need to find out why and see if we can recapture what we had before."

"Bill, believe me, nothing has changed. I love you more than I ever have. Sometimes I get a wild streak in me, but I promise from now on I will hold it in check. Bill, have you given any thought to having children? You would make a great father, and maybe if we had someone else to think about other than ourselves, we would grow closer together."

"Maybe someday, but this may be the wrong time," I said. "You see today, I found out that I have lost my job. It might be wrong to bring up a child on welfare."

"Now, you are acting silly. You don't need that old company. I'll bet if you put your resume on the Internet that you would have more offers than you could shake a stick at."

"I love the fact that you have faith in me, but let's wait until all those offers start flooding in before we actually produce a child."

"Well, I really had not thought of starting right now. We could practice, though, couldn't we? Even someone with as much talent as you might need to practice occasionally."

"Are you trying to tell me that I made a few errors, the last time we played?"

"Why, Bill, how can I remember that far back? Now, where were we?" And she returned her lips to mine.

I don't remember how we got to our bed, but I will never forget that night. It was like no lovemaking we had ever performed before. Mary was a tiger, and I was her prey. Her mouth was everywhere; it seemed at once. Like an alcoholic kept too long away from his liquor, she consumed me. It was as if she had a passion that had been pent up inside her for a lifetime that suddenly had been let loose. She kept me inflamed up to but not over the edge. Over and over, allowing me to come close but denying me release. Hours later, when it was finally over, I was completely sated. I had not an ounce of strength left in me. I was drained and more in love than I had ever been.

I awoke late the next morning, feeling as if I had been in a 15 round prizefight. Every muscle in my body ached, and my back felt like it was on fire. As I dragged myself from the bed, I noticed red streaks where I had lain. I instinctively knew that it was blood, and the first thought I had was that I had somehow injured Mary. I had no choice but to proceed to the bathroom, and when I was finished, I looked in the double mirror at my back. It was clawed from the top of my shoulders to almost the small of my back. I guess my characterization of Mary, as a tiger was not far from the truth.

I managed to slip on my pajama pants and make my way downstairs. I had not attempted to put on any type of top, as I did not think I could endure having anything next to my scratched skin. I expected to see Mary sitting drinking coffee and recovering herself from her ordeal. To my surprise, she was up bouncing around the kitchen like a young colt. For whatever reason, it brought an old joke to mind, although this situation was the reverse of the punch line.

"A bellhop helped an old man and a young girl to their room. He had been told that they were just married and he figured that she must have married him for his money. The next morning he saw the old man coming into the lobby with a bounce in his step and a gleam in his eye. A few minutes later, he saw the man's wife making her way slowly and what looked to be painfully into the lobby as well. He could not control himself and went over to the young woman and said, "How is it that your husband, who must be 65 years old, looks to be in such good shape this morning and you a very young woman can hardly walk?" She replied, "He told me that he had been saving up for 40 years, and I thought he meant money."

I have no idea why I thought of that joke.

Mary looked at me and, with her brightest smile, said, "Good morning, lover. You look like you have been ridden hard and put away wet."

I figured her simile wasn't far off.

As I sat down gingerly at the table, she poured me a cup of coffee and brought it to me. She started to put her arms around my neck but stopped when she noticed that I winced when she touched me. Walking behind me, she said, "Looks, like I got a little carried away last night. I am sorry about that. Let me see if I can find something to fix you up."

She left the room for a few minutes and returned, carrying a small tube of some kind of ointment. "This may sting a little bit, but it will help those claw marks heal in no time." She then slowly and lovingly rubbed the ointment into my wounds. "I will try to be gentler the next time," she joked.

I was hoping that by the next time, she meant a few weeks from now.

"Well, at least you don't have to go into the office today. I am afraid that even with the salve I put on you, you might ruin a good shirt."

"Unfortunately, I do have to go to the office. I have to clean out my desk and pick up a few things. Maybe after a hot shower, I will feel better."

"Bill, I could go pick up whatever you need for you. Why don't you stay home and rest today?"

"No, this is something I have to do. You could tag along if you wanted, but you would have to wait in the car while I am inside."

"Whither thou goest, I will go." She said Biblically.

It took me longer than a short shower to get ready. I let the water soak into my body for a long time. Eventually, the aches started to subside. I toweled off, being careful of how hard I rubbed my back. When the steam subsided, I again looked in the mirror and noticed that the scratch marks had miraculously started to heal. It would be several days before I could quit admiring them, but at least I thought I could put on a shirt without it turning to a blood-soaked rag.

I got dressed and went downstairs. Mary was waiting there for me and announced that breakfast was ready. "You are not leaving this house without eating something." She said.

Again I was amazed. She handed me a plate of eggs, over easy, two slices of bacon, and two slices of perfectly buttered toast. To top it off, she poured me another cup of coffee.

"Pinch me," I said.

She looked at me with that expression that says, "what, in the world are you talking about?"

"I just want to make sure that I am not dreaming," I said.

"Are you happy with the new me, lover?" she asked.

For some reason, that question caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. Yes, every man wants a tiger in bed and the perfect cook in the kitchen, but there are only so many changes a man can stand during the course of one day.

I just could not bring myself to answer the question, and Mary did not press for one. I finished eating, and we left for the office. As we drove up Western Avenue, Mary suddenly exclaimed. "Hey, Jack's place is back. How long has that been there?"

"Just the last couple of days," I told her.

"Could we stop on the way back? I really would like to see where this odyssey began."

"I don't know if that is such a good idea. Let me think about it while I collect my things."

"Whatever, you say," Mary said with just a hint of sadness in her voice. "Far, be it for me to argue with my lord and master."

Again I felt my hackles rise.

We arrived at the office, and I went in while Mary waited in the car. I entered the office and again confronted the new secretary. "I am here to pick up my things," I told her. "Is Mr. Godfrey in?"

"No, I am sorry, sir, I haven't seen Mr. Godfrey since he left yesterday. I have been instructed to let you in to retrieve your stuff."

I thanked her and went into my old office. It took me about one-half hour to clean out my desk and pick up the few pictures and awards that hung on the wall. I put everything, except for one item into a box and left the building. The one thing that I kept out was a small tape recorder. I slipped a fresh tape into it and made sure that it was working. I had made up my mind; we would stop at the bar on the way home.

As I approached my car, I again saw Bull. He was leaning into the passenger side window and apparently talking with Mary. I lost it.

"What in the hell are you doing here again?" I demanded. "My lawyer has filed a restraining order against you, or can't you read?"

"Are you sure you want to start a conversation about intelligence after that fat head remark you made the other day?" Bull asked. "You are not helping your case by antagonizing me."

"I don't have a case." I spat back. "The charges were dropped, or don't you remember so well either?"

"Look, all I want is to get to the truth in this matter. If you had nothing to do with Ray Langley's murder, then I will leave you alone. The problem is, we can't find anyone else that had a motive. You were the only one that threatened to kill him. Until we get better information, you are the only suspect."

"Are you forgetting that I had no opportunity to kill Ray? The timeline does not allow for me being a suspect."

"Yeah, that is what O J said too."

"And as I remember, the jury found him not guilty. There might be a lesson in there somewhere."

"I guess I always was a slow learner. Well, I think we have shared enough amenities for one day. Somehow, I think we will accidentally run into each other again soon."

I watched him walk away and set the box in the back seat. I got in and turned to Mary. "I see you made a new friend while I was inside."

"You mean Detective Snyder? He isn't such a bad sort. I am sure; once he gets to know you, he will understand he has the wrong man. I think he might have been abused as a child. He just can't seem to trust anyone."

"You find good in the worst people, don't you?"

"I think that there is a little good and a little bad in everyone, don't you? I'll bet even that Ellen woman has some good in her."

I looked at her with curiosity. It seemed strange that she would bring her up in conversation. "Mary, can I ask you a question? Why mention Ellen at this point?"

"I don't know her name just popped into my mind. Do you really hate her so much that hearing her name is painful?"

"I don't know if I would say I hate her. But, she did cause Sandy to be beaten up. And somehow, I feel she is behind Ray's death. If it were not for Ellen, I would not be under suspicion by Bull. That is quite a lot to forgive."

"Someone once said, things are not always what they seem. Maybe Ellen is just an innocent pawn in this chess game."

"So, you forgive her for trying to seduce me?"

"Well, at least she has good taste in men. How about stopping off at that bar? Maybe we will learn something that can help us."

Chapter Forty-One – Another Meeting With Satan

"Are you really ready to actually meet the Devil?" I asked.

"The question is, is he ready to meet the two of us together? Not even the Devil himself can take you away from me now."

I was approaching the bar and suddenly decided that I needed to see Mary and Jack together. "Okay, if you are sure," and I pulled into the parking lot for Jack's place.

As I stepped into the doorway, I again had to stop to allow my eyes to adjust. I used the time to turn the tape machine to record. Mary, however, did not seem to have that problem and entered directly. She had passed my vision before I even knew it. When my vision finally did come back, I saw Mary at the bar. Jack was extending his hand to her as a form of welcome. I hurried across the room.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise," Jack said to me. "You have come to visit, and you have brought your lovely wife with you." He then took a second, long look at me. "Bill, you don't look like you are doing too well today. Did you have a rough night?" And then he laughed.

"Jack, you have the strangest sense of humor. I'll bet you could even laugh at a broken crutch."

"Bill, what do I owe this honor to? I honestly did not think I would see you for a while. Have things gotten bad enough that you need my help?"

"I have never asked for your help, and I never will." I declared. "Mary wanted to stop in to see where I met the great Satan. So here we are."

"I thought you would have her scared to death of me by now," Jack said.

"I certainly have tried, but Mary doesn't scare as easily as she should."

"I could turn her into a toad for you. That might get her attention."

Mary looked at him, and I swear she winked. "I don't think I would enjoy being a toad. All those warts would ruin my complexion. How about a nice monarch butterfly, instead."

"You don't get to pick and choose with me. I am not as enamored with you as Bill is."

"I will try to remember that," she said to Jack. "But tell me something if you would. Why are you trying to ruin Bill's life? You two seem to be almost friends, and yet you have cost him his job and apparently are trying to get him convicted of murder. Can you tell me why?"

"Mary, you do have an active imagination. I am not responsible for any of those things. It is true that I suggested that the police pick him up that Friday night. You wouldn't have wanted him interfering with your little rendezvous with Bob, now, would you?"

"As long as you are giving away little secrets, why not tell Bill that nothing happened between Bob and me?"

"I could say that, but you and I know that is only partially the truth. And I am sure you do not want the whole truth known?"

"You guys are talking as if I am not even here," I interjected.

"I didn't think you would mind, Bill. After all, I thought you would learn some valuable information from this little conversation," Jack replied.

"The only thing I have learned so far is that both of you seem to be able to talk in riddles."

"For a thinking man, even that small piece of information should be helpful," he told me.

I marked that down in my memory for further consideration at a later date. "You also have not lost your touch at avoiding direct questions. I have one of my own. Do you know who killed Ray Langley?"

"Exactly who killed him, no. I do, however, know who is responsible for his death. He is dead because his wife wished him so."

"Could you be a little more specific? How could Sandy wish him dead?"

"There is an old saying, be careful what you wish for, they just might come true. Do you remember the little present I left for you when I sent the party invitation?"

"The magic box?" I asked.

"Think back more carefully. Was that really what it was called?"

I had to wrack my brain. It had been a long time, and I had only talked about that box that once with Sandy. What had she called it? Oh, my God, the wishing box.

"Are you telling me that if I wished for something while I was holding that box, it would have come true?" I asked.

"That would be accurate. I left it specifically for you, but you seemed to be afraid to use it. Your secretary did not have those fears. She was really pissed at Ray after what he did to her the night before. The box was sitting on her desk, and she brushed against it as she wished her husband dead. That wish came true. I am afraid that murder will never be solved, accurately, that is. The police sometimes have a way of turning the evidence, or lack thereof into a conviction."

"And so since I am their only suspect, they are going to keep trying until they get me into the gas chamber?" I asked.

"Well, I could send them in another direction if you want. There are a lot of drug addicts and derelicts on the street. Nobody would care if one of them took the fall for you." Jack said with a smile.

"No, thanks," I told him. "I am not going to allow you to ruin some other innocent person's life to save mine. I guess I will just have to take my chances that Bull will give up when he sees that I am innocent."

"Ah, my old friend, detective Snyder. I guess I can see why you call him Bull. He is as stubborn as one. I doubt if he will give up easily. The funny thing is I have been told that he can read minds. He must read some sense of guilt in you, or he would have backed off by now."

"If he really can read minds, I can see where he might think I was guilty," I said. "I have blamed myself for Ray's death, believing you had him killed because you wanted to set me up. Even now that I know the truth, I still feel somewhat responsible. After all, Sandy would never have had that box, if I had not stopped in here on my way home and met you."

"Strange, how things work out, isn't it?" Jack said.

I turned to Mary and asked, "Well, have you seen and heard enough for one day? I think it is time we took our leave of this charming company and headed home."

"Not just yet," she answered. "Jack, there is one thing I would like. Would it be possible for me to meet this Ellen woman that has taken such a liking to Bill? I would really like to meet my competition."

"Didn't Bill tell you?" Jack asked Mary. "Ellen has been suspended for violating team rules. I am afraid the only one that could persuade me to forgive her is your husband. And he seems to think she is better off the way she is."

Mary turned to me. "Bill, I really would like to meet this woman. Couldn't you bend your morals a little just this once? I am sure you have wanted to see the two of us together a few times."

"Bending the rules; is what started all of this. Let's go home."

"Well, as always, you know best, dear," Mary said to me.

Jack started rolling with laughter. I looked at him to see if he would share the joke. He looked back and said to me, "I saw the way she treated you at the party. She did not seem nearly as amiable then. Maybe you should take her to see a psychiatrist. She might have a split personality."

I took Mary's hand and left. I was in a hurry to get home. I now had something that would help get Bull off my back.

Chapter Forty-Two – Things Get Stranger

I entered the house and went into the bathroom. I pulled out the recorder, set it to rewind. When the tape stopped, I pressed play. At first, I thought the tape was blank, but soon I heard my voice. The problem was that my voice was the only thing on the tape. Nothing that was said by anyone else had been recorded. I doubted that Bull would be impressed.

I was still shaking my head in disbelief when I went to find Mary. She was in the kitchen, busily cooking again. That was almost as unbelievable as the tape. "Mary, could you do me a favor?"

"Can it wait until I finish with getting dinner? I wouldn't want the chicken to be all dried out."

"I just want you to listen to this tape."

"Ok, I should be able to do that without spoiling dinner. Turn it on."

I started the tape and watched for Mary's reaction. After it had completed, I asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"Think, about what? It sounds like there was something wrong with your recorder. From what I heard, it might have been recorded at the bar this afternoon, but the only one on the tape is you. How is that possible?"

"I don't know. Surely a tape recorder cannot record only part of a conversation. If my voice is on here, why are yours and Jacks not?"

"Maybe, you should call Radio Shack."

"You lost me."

"You have questions, they have answers."

"Mary, everyone likes a little ass. No one likes a smart ass."

"Oops, naughty, naughty. If you're going to use bad words, I might have to send you to bed without supper," Mary said and laughed.

If the chicken was as good as her spaghetti was last night, I didn't want to miss it. "Yes, ma'am," I said and went back in the living room. I decided while I waited that I would check out the want ads. I picked up the paper and began leafing through it. What I found was more gimmick ads than job opportunities. I marked a couple of the ones that seemed legitimate. After supper, I would go into my computer and update my resume.

As I waited for dinner, the phone rang. I picked it up and heard a woman's voice on the other end.

"Bill, I want to come home," she said.

"Ellen?" I asked.

"No, Ellen is with you. This is Mary."

I honestly did not know what to say to her. I guess at that point I knew the truth. But it was as hard for me to accept then as it is for you now. From the moment that I had returned home from the bar after my fight with Mary, I knew that something was strangely different, but I just could not put my finger on what it was. Now if I could believe the caller, Mary and Ellen had somehow switched places. My wife was stranded in Ellen's body, and Ellen was here in Mary's. Now the question was, how do I put things right? And then another question popped into my mind, do I want to put things right? What would you do?

But then reason overtook me. People just do not switch bodies. But then, bars do not appear, disappear and reappear either. I knew I had to say something to the woman on the phone, but what?

"Listen, I don't know what kind of prank you are pulling, but Mary is here cooking dinner as we speak."

"Perhaps that should be your first clue," the woman said. "When was the last time that I cooked dinner for you?"

"There you go again, trying to confuse me. That last question sounded like I should know the answer. Since I don't even know who you are, how can I answer it?"

"Bill, I can see you are in one of your confused states. Think carefully about the woman you are referring to as Mary. I am sure that you will figure out that I am telling the truth. You can't get in touch with me, but I will definitely be in touch with you. Goodbye, Bill."

After I hung up the phone, Mary called me for dinner. As I entered the room she asked, "Who was that on the phone?"

"Some woman claiming to be you," I replied. "It sounded like Ellen, but she told me that you were Ellen. Do you find this at all strange?"

"And what do you believe, lover?" she asked.

"I really don't know what to believe. I have to admit that something has been strange since we had that fight the other night. You have suddenly learned to cook. Your passion is higher than it has ever been and you have taken on a whole different attitude towards me."

"Well, it sounds like you have a dilemma. Here, a woman that can't cook is serving you what I hope is a very tasty meal. And afterward, if I have my way we will go up to bed and make wild passionate love. But on the other hand, I may not be your wife. Would you like me to leave for a while so that you can figure out what you believe the truth to be? Or, would you like to wait until after you eat dinner?"

My stomach answered her last question for me. "Let's have dinner," I replied.

I really don't know which woman cooked that dinner, but I can tell you that I thoroughly enjoyed every bite.

The one thing that kept going through my mind is that when I questioned her, Mary or Ellen, did not confirm or deny anything. She just kept answering my questions with questions of her own. I mused on the fact that I should be able to garner some type of information from that. And then it struck me. Why not just ask her a straight yes or no question. But, then, if I did that, what if I did not like the answer? I am sure that you can see how confusing the whole situation was becoming. If I did learn that the caller was telling the truth, then I would be obligated to act on that information. Didn't Jack tell me that it was not having sex with someone that you were not married to that was a sin? It was believed that the act was wrong and then doing it anyway that got you transferred to the other team. Maybe I should take some time to really think this through.

Just then my thoughts were interrupted. "How was dinner, lover?" she asked.

"Absolutely fantastic," was my reply.

"Then are you ready for the second part of my suggestion?"

I had to think about what she was talking about for a few seconds. And then I remembered her sexual innuendo. That was an easy question for me to answer. After last night, my body was still so sore that there was no way I was going to have sex again tonight. At least, for now, I was safe.

"I am afraid I will have to pass, tonight. I couldn't perform even if I wanted to, which right now I am not sure I do."

"Well, if you are turning me down because I overworked you last night, I can accept that. But the second part of your statement really hurts my feelings. I have tried very hard to be everything that you could want in a wife. If you want me to change, just let me know, and I will become anything you want."

"Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings. As far as changing, that is what has caused me so much confusion. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

"I have always known how to cook. I just didn't know until recently how important that skill really was. Isn't there another question you want to be answered?"

I thought long and hard about that. I figured she was leading me to ask where she learned how to make love the way she had last night. I really did not want to know the answer to that question. At least, not yet.

"I have a myriad of questions, but none that I am prepared to ask tonight. Give me a little time to sort things out in my own mind."

"I would tell you to take all the time you need, but I am not sure if we have that much time left."

What in the world could she have meant by that? I was going to ask her and then I realized that it would lead to more questions. Better to just leave it be.

Chapter Forty-Three – Never Pick a Fight With The Devil

Just then, the phone rang again. "Who could be calling at this hour," I asked out loud.

"I guess you will never know unless one of us answers it," Mary replied. And with that, she picked up the phone and said hello. She then handed the phone to me. "He says he is your boss," she said nonchalantly.

"My boss. I no longer have one of those," I thought, but took the phone none-the-less.

"Bill, this is John. I guess you have friends in high places."

"Or low places," I thought to myself. "John, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Well, you must have heard what happened to Mr. Godfrey?" he asked.

"Nope, can't say that I have. Would you like to fill me in, or should we do twenty questions?"

"You know that is the type of attitude that keeps you and me from getting along."

"We don't have to get along anymore," I replied. "You fired me, remember?"

"Bill, that is why I am calling you. Just hear me out, please. Mr. Godfrey decided to stop at a bar on his way home from work tonight. He got into some type of altercation with one of the locals. I really don't know what started the whole thing, but this guy busted him up pretty good. He is in the hospital right now. I don't know whether he has even regained consciousness. Anyway, that leaves us without anyone to run the office there. I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out who I could send in when I was ordered to call and offer you your old job back."

"Ordered, by whom?" I asked.

"You may not have heard, but Virginia Carrington bought up 51% of our stock. She wants you to come back to work for us. She even told me to offer you a $10,000 annual raise."

"Mrs. Carrington doesn't even like me. Why would she do such a thing?" I asked.

"She didn't say. But, she was adamant that you come back to work for us. I know that you probably harbor some resentment towards me. That is understandable, but this is a good opportunity for you. Will you at least give it some thought? I will need an answer tomorrow, however."

I thought about telling him to go to hell, but after all, I did need a job, and they weren't jumping out of the paper at me. "I will think about it tonight and give you a call tomorrow." And then without saying goodbye, I hung up the phone.

Now I know that I should have asked him what bar it was that Mr. Godfrey got waylaid in, but I really didn't have to. The real question in my mind was; did I want a job that the devil helped me to get? But, then I didn't ask for his help, so maybe it would be all right.

I was deep in thought when I heard Mary's voice. "Well, that sounded like an interesting conversation. Would you like to clue me in or is that also something you don't want to talk about?"

"I'm sorry. That was my old boss asking me if I would come back to work. It seems my replacement got into a fight in a bar and is in the hospital. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Of course not. I have been with you all day. And we haven't turned on the news. How would I know anything about a bar fight?"

"Of course, you are right. The only strange thing is that it was Virginia Carrington that ordered John to offer me my old position. She doesn't care much for me, but she is quite fond of you. Perhaps you talked with her after I asked you not to?"

"You know I would never disobey you, master." She said facetiously.

"Well, anyway, I have to give them an answer tomorrow. What do you think I should do?"

"I think you should do whatever seems right to you. I have complete confidence in your ability to provide for us. And if worse came to worse, I might even be able to get a job. I have a few skills that have not eroded over the years."

"Yes, I believe you do," was my reply. "I am going to think it over tonight. Before I decide, I do want to have another talk with Jack, though. I have a feeling he knows quite a bit about this latest intrigue."

"Hopefully, I can go with you," Mary said wistfully. "You two have the most interesting conversations. It is almost like listening to old friends talk about bygone years."

"Well, I would not characterize us like old friends. We are more like adversaries that have some degree of respect for each other. He is considerably different than what I had always thought, though. I suppose if we were not so diametrically opposed to our ideals, we could be friends."

"I watched you two together today. He already values you as his friend. In fact, I would not want to be someone that stood in the way of your happiness. I think Jack would take great offense to that."

"You realize that you are painting the Devil with a pastel color? Do you really think he has the intrinsic good in him to value friendships?"

"I can't say one way or the other. All either one of us has heard about him comes from his enemies. Are you positive that they aren't painting him with the wrong brush? Has he done anything to you that may not have been in your best interests?"

"He tried to come between you and me."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Right now, I am not even sure who I am. And I am definitely not sure who you are. But we are getting back on a subject that I am not ready to broach. Let's call it a night. Things may look different in the morning.

Against my better judgment, I decided to share the bed with Mary. I was afraid she was going to push the point and try to have relations with me, but she was happy just to settle in next to me and go to sleep. Sleep came hard for me, however. My mind just kept rehashing all the things that had happened during the day. Sometimes I wished that I had an on-off switch for my brain.

It was still dark, and I had not yet fallen asleep when I heard a pounding on the front door. I slid out of bed and put my robe on. I reached for my handgun and put it in the pocket of the robe. Mary had also heard the commotion and was right behind me when I started down the stairs. I motioned for her to stand back. I had no idea what or whom I would be dealing with, and if there was trouble, I wanted her out of the line of fire. As I made my way down, the thunderous pounding commenced on the door again. This time a loud voice announced, "Police open up."

I immediately recognized Bull's voice. I opened the door to see Bull and two uniformed officers waiting for me.

"Why detective Snyder, what a pleasant surprise. And to think, you missed me so much that you could not even wait until morning. Don't you ever sleep?"

"Step aside, Anderson, we need to have a little chat."

"Don't you think you should be a little more polite? I might let you in if you were to use the magic word."

"Are you going to let us in or do I use the magic words, you're under arrest?" he snapped back.

I knew that I had antagonized him enough and stepped back and to the side. I waved him in with my left hand. "Now, do you want to tell me what this is all about?" I asked.

Bull looked me over carefully before he spoke. "I would be a little more comfortable if you took that cannon out of your pocket and set it down on the table over there. I wouldn't want it accidentally going off and have someone get shot. That sometimes happens to people you know."

I reached into my pocket, and with the tips of my fingers, pulled the gun out and set it down. I deliberately moved away from it to the other side of the room. "Is that better?" I asked. "Now, can you tell me what I owe this pleasure to?"

"Where were you at around 7 last night?"

"I was here with Mary. Why did someone else get shot?"

"Can anyone else verify that story, other than your wife?"

"Not unless they were hiding in my closet," I said sarcastically. "Now, what in the hell is this about?"

"Maybe you could tell me what you watched on TV. That might help convince me."

"We rarely watch TV," I answered. "It dulls the mind."

"Amazing, you have been married for what, six or seven years. And you are still so enamored with one another that you don't even turn on the TV."

"Recently, I have discovered that if a man watches and listens closely to his wife, he learns all kind of new things," I said. "Now for the last time, what is this about?"

"It seems the guy that took your old job got himself beaten up last night. They are not sure if he will live or not. For whatever reason, I immediately thought of you. Do you know anything about that?"

"Only what I was told by his employer. I guess he stopped off at a bar and got into a fight. Nothing unusual about that, I wouldn't think. Surely the people in the bar can tell you it was not with me."

"That is the strange part. The witnesses all tell the same story. They swear the altercation was with a wrinkled old man and that this Mr. Godfrey took the first swing. They swear that the old guy never even struck back. Miraculously Godfrey was flung backward and crashed into the pool table. I guess you know we have been watching you. Well, this is the same bar that you and your wife were in earlier in the day. We thought maybe you set this guy up for this fall so that you could have your job back. Maybe you are good friends with these other patrons, and they cooked up this story to lead us away from you."

"Yeah, and maybe pigs fly," I said. "Christ, I only met Godfrey once, and that time, we did not speak." And then it dawned on me, if they were watching me; they knew I could not have been there. "Ok, now I am curious if you have been watching me around the clock, you know I could not have done this. So why the twenty questions?"

"Well, one of my finest actually went to sleep on shift. It is possible that you could have gone to the bar, beaten Godfrey up, and got back here without anyone being the wiser. Would you mind opening your robe?"

"Don't you think you should at least buy me a drink before you make passes?" I asked.

"Listen, wise-ass, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. If we do it the hard way, you may end of with the bruises that I am looking for." Bull explained.

"Well, you asked for it." I opened the robe and gave him a full view. I wasn't wearing pajamas when I got up. "Satisfied?" I asked.

"Well, those marks on the top of your shoulders look a little nasty. But even I can tell you didn't get them in a fight. At least, not a bar fight. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the bloom hasn't gone out of your marriage. By the way, when do you go back to work?"

"I haven't decided," I answered.

Bull turned and started for the door, and then as an afterthought, he turned back to me. "Be careful, with that cannon. It can make a pretty nasty hole in someone. If you don't believe me, ask Ray Langley."

"Well, if I ever meet him in another life, I might just do that."

After they had left, I turned to Mary. "Well, do you still think he is an alright guy?"

"He does seem a little opinionated, I'll give you that. He seemed to back off a little at the end. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe he can read minds. You had a clear conscious, and he felt that. I don't think the two of you will ever become close friends, though."

"Well, it is too late to go back to bed. How about if I fix us some breakfast?" I asked.

"Tired of my cooking already?" she asked flippantly.

"No, just force of habit. I figure it will calm my mind. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I'll put on a pot of coffee, and you do your thing."

We made small talk while the food cooked and while we ate it. I didn't feel like getting into a serious conversation. Maybe Mary could read minds as well because she followed my lead.

Finally, when we had finished eating and were on our second cups of coffee, she spoke. "I know you didn't sleep much last night. Have you decided whether you are going back to work or not?"

"You know, I had almost decided not to, but after Bull's visit, I think I will. I do want to stop in and have a talk with Jack first before I call John. You can tag along if you want. It is still pretty early, although I doubt if the time matters much to Jack. I will go clean up and then check my email. That will kill a little time. Can you be ready in about an hour?"

Mary just nodded as I walked away towards the stairs. As I passed the coffee table, I reached down and retrieved my gun. I carefully put it in the pocket of my robe and headed upstairs.

I returned about 30 minutes later, clean, shaved, and dressed. I opened my laptop and pushed the start button. When the screen came up, and I had logged on, I opened my personal email. The first message I saw was from an address I did not recognize. I opened it and found a five-word message. It read, "An eye for an eye." I remembered the phrase from the old Biblical law, but I had no idea why someone would send it to me. I thought about deleting it but then decided to keep it in my inbox. Obviously, it didn't take up much room, and I thought later that I could check the address to try to find out who sent it. There was nothing else of interest unless of course, I had a desire to enlarge my penis. I thought about it for a couple seconds and then decided that the one I had could get me into enough trouble. I deleted all those messages and logged off.

I figured we had wasted enough time, and with Mary following behind we headed for the car. As I backed out of the garage and hit the button on my visor to close the door, Mary spoke. "Just a minute, Bill. I want to get the paper off the drive. If you get into one of your long philosophical conversations, I might need something to read."

I turned to her and said, "Oh, so you are bored with my conversations?"

"Not necessarily bored, they just go a little deeper than I want to comprehend."

"And I thought you were the brains of this team," I replied.

"And I thought all men liked dumb blondes," she said as she exited the car.

Chapter Forty-Three – The First Threat

I watched her walk the short distance to where the paper lay. As she bent down to pick it up, she hesitated and then looked back at me. I could tell by the look on her face that something had drastically upset her and I put the car in park and got out. When I reached her, I looked down and saw what it was that had caused her consternation. The paper was totally shredded. It looked as if someone in a rage had taken a knife to it. On the sidewalk next to it was one word; which looked like it had been written in blood. "Cain" was all it said.

I reached over and took Mary in my arms. She was shaking, and her voice quivered slightly when she spoke. "Bill, who would do such a thing."

"I don't know: the world is full of sick people. Come on, I'll stop and get another paper on the way."

We had no sooner gotten back in the car than Mary spoke to me again.

"Bill, you don't think that Sandy would do something like this?"

"I really don't think so. Surely if she has thought it through, she knows that I had nothing to do with the murder of her husband. I would rather think that it is someone in Ray's family that has not been told the whole story. Let's not worry about it for right now."

"Bill, it scares me none the less. Maybe you should call Detective Snyder and ask him to look into it."

"Yeah, that is the last thing I want to do right now. I keep hoping that Bull will forget I exist. I certainly don't want to remind him that someone else thinks I am a murderer."

I stopped at a convenience store and picked up another paper and gave it to Mary when I got back in the car. She leafed through it as we drove. I pulled into the parking lot and found it pretty much as I expected, totally deserted. I wondered if Jack actually drove a vehicle or if he just miraculously transported himself wherever he went. I figured if he ever did drive it was probably in something like a Hummer or maybe even a Sherman tank.

We went to the door of Jack's place and found it to be unlocked. "The bar that never closes," I thought. As we entered, I was surprised to see that all the lights were on. Apparently, there were no rats that needed a drink at this time of day. I saw Jack sitting at the bar. He looked up and smiled. He then got off of his stool and came across the room to meet us.

"Well, you two are out and about early today. "What do I owe this honor to?"

"I just had a couple things I needed to talk with you about. I hope you don't mind."

Jack smiled at me. "You know I am always pleased to see you. What did you want to talk about?"

Mary interrupted at that point. "I am going to leave you two alone to discuss these vastly important topics. I am going to go see if I remember how to hold a pool cue." And with that, she started for the far side of the room where the pool tables were.
Chapter Forty-Four – Another Conversation With Satan

When she was gone, I turned back to Jack. "Well, for starters, what do you know about a man by the name of Godfrey that got beaten up here the other night?"

"Godfrey, was that his name? I hope he wasn't a friend of yours."

"No, I barely knew him. He was the one that corporate sent in here to take over my old job."

"Well, that explains why Ellen went off the way she did. This guy comes in here and after a couple of drinks starts bragging how he had just got this big prestigious job. He said he took it away from some shmuck. Remember those were his words, not mine. Anyway, he keeps running his mouth about how he was surprised that you could hold a job at all, being that you are totally stupid. About that time Ellen gets up and starts calling him every name in the book, and to be honest some that probably have never been written down. He takes offense to that and takes a swing at her. He just grazed her but connected enough to send her backward. Of course, I am not one to watch a lady being treated that way, so I get between them and ask him to leave. He then takes a swing at me. I swear I never touched him. He just flew backward and rammed into the pool table. The police came, but everyone here backed my story, so they had no reason to charge me with anything. I hear he is in the hospital. Concussion I guess."

"I thought you had banished Ellen to the Netherworld?" I asked.

"You have such a wild imagination. Maybe that is what I like about you so much. I was a little miffed at Ellen for a few days. But, then, I got to thinking about it and decided she was only doing what she thought was right for the man she is in love with. How could I stay mad at that? You said you had a couple of things you wanted to talk with me about. What was the other?"

"Well, it involves Mary and Ellen. Is it possible for two women to exchange souls?"

"You certainly do come up with some doozies. Sometimes the questions you ask make my head hurt. Let me think about what you are asking for a few seconds. You referred to souls, did you not? No, that would not be possible. People do not have souls that are separate from their bodies."

"Are you telling me that there is no such thing as a soul?" I asked.

"I am sorry to have to keep referring you to the Bible, but most of your questions are answered there. Remember, when it talks about God creating the first man? It says, "and God blew into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living soul." It did not say that God gave him a soul or provided him a soul. It says he became a living soul. So the being and soul were one inseparable thing. So two people could not change souls. If they did that they would be the same person, they were when they decided to make the switch. Does that make sense to you? For a minute, I was confusing myself."

"Ok, I guess I will have to rephrase the question. I got a call last night from someone who sounded like Ellen. But then she told me that she was Mary. Now, normally, I would just pass that off as a crank call, but Mary has been acting strange lately."

"Strange, how?" Jack asked.

"Well, for one thing, she has suddenly developed a talent for cooking. In all the years we have been married, if I wanted to survive a meal, I had to cook it myself. But the last few days, she has been cooking the most fantastic meals."

"That doesn't sound so strange to me. People have hidden talents, all the time. Have you ever heard of a plain ordinary person that just all of a sudden decided to write a novel? That guy Spielberg is a good example. His first book was a huge success. If he had all that talent, why didn't he use it earlier? Maybe Mary has always been a good cook. Maybe she had just lost interest, and all of a sudden picked it up again."

"It goes deeper than that. She has also changed the way she makes love. She is now so full of passion and excitement."

"Well, I could explain that as well to you, but I doubt if you want to hear what I have to say on that subject. Maybe we should leave sleeping dogs lie."

"Jack, I get the feeling that you are avoiding my question, so I am going to ask it one more time. Could Mary and Ellen somehow appear to be the other person?"

"Well, Ellen is really good at changing personas. I think she could maybe pull it off. She could impersonate Mary, and you might be none the wiser. I doubt if Mary has that much ability, though."

"You se, that is my dilemma. If Ellen is impersonating Mary, she is the only one that I am seeing. I have no idea where Mary is. But, I would guess she is somehow impersonating Ellen."

"Well, that I can help you with. Let's get the two of them together. Maybe that will shed some light on the subject."

He then called into the other room. "Ellen, would you like to come out and say hello to Bill?"

Chapter Forty-Five – A Dilemma

"Just a minute," was the reply. A few seconds later, Ellen came walking in still smoothing her jet black hair. She walked up to me and put her arms around my neck and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. "Bill, it is so nice to see you again."

Before I could reply, Mary also joined us. She looked at Ellen with what I would call a scowl on her face. "So you are the woman that wants to steal my man."

"I'm not trying to steal anything," Ellen replied. "He was mine way before you got your hooks into him."

While this was going on, I was swinging my head back and forth, trying to see if I saw any flaws in either of these women. If either or both of them were play-acting, I couldn't tell. Jack had said to me that he doubted that Mary could play the part good enough to fool me. If that was true, I must be wrong. Mary must be who she says she is. Just for fun, I decided to throw a question out to both women. "Will the real Mary, please stand up?"

Both of them answered in unison. "I am already standing," They said.

I put my hand to my head and began shaking it from side to side. "Let's try this again. Which one of you is Mary?"

Again in complete harmony, they answered. "I am," they both said.

I thought I would try one more time. "Which of you is Ellen?" I asked.

This time neither one of them spoke up. The room was utterly silent. I just stood there and shook my head. I looked at Jack and him back at me. I could read nothing from his expression.

"I am afraid this didn't work out too well," Jack stated. "I can't even tell which is which. I have a fantastic idea. Why don't you take both of them home with you? Double your pleasure, so to speak."

"I'll go along with that." Both women declared in unison.

"As pleasant as that thought might be, I don't think that is such a good idea. Somewhere it might get me in trouble with my morals clause." I said.

"Nah," replied Jack. "The Mormons do it all the time, and they don't seem to get into any trouble with the Big Guy."

"If I recall a previous conversation we had, you told me that if you know, something is wrong and then do it that is what causes the problem. Maybe the Mormons believe that cohabitation is all right. I am not sure that I do."

"Well, you could take my word for it," Jack stated. "Certainly, you don't think I would mislead you, do you?"

"No, not at all. Why would you try to mislead a mere human being? I do seem to recall that you have done it millions of times in the past.

"There you go, listening to ugly rumors about me again. I don't know how we got to be such good friends with all the mistrust you have for me."

I had to admit to myself that Jack was indeed likable. Even when I knew that he was lying to me, I still wanted to believe him. But what was I going to do about these two women? I had no idea who was who. And I had an even bigger problem, I was afraid that I was in love with both of them.

I turned to both of them and said. "I really don't know what to make of this. The only sensible thing for me to do is to leave both of you here until I can sort this out."

"That doesn't seem fair," the blond headed Mary said. "Maybe if you tried kissing each one of us in turn, you could make up your mind."

"And what if I become even more confused. Maybe I would just choose the one that is the best kisser."

"That works for me," they both said.

I turned to Jack. "Do you mind if I leave both of these charming women with you for a while. I am going to go see about getting my old job back. Incidentally, you didn't have anything to do with Virginia Carrington calling my boss, did you?"

"Well, I might have given you a glowing reference. I have taken a little liking to you. You don't think I made a mistake, do you?"

"Thanks, Jack." was all I said as I left the bar. I was amazed that neither the blond nor the brunette Mary tried to follow me.

Now, I know what you are thinking. Why would I leave my wife with the great Satan? I know this sounds downright ridiculous, but the answer is, I knew they would both be safe with him.

# Chapter Forty-Six – Back To Work?

As I left the two Mary's in the charge of Jack, I suddenly remember that I had intended to ask him about the tape. Oh, well, it would have to wait until I returned. I picked up my cell phone and called John to let him know that I would take the position. The phone rang at least six times before it was answered. When the other end finally picked up, I was surprised to hear, "Virginia Carrington, how may I help you?"

"Mrs. Carrington, this is Bill Anderson. I was calling to talk to John. He called me last night and offered me my old job back."

"Yes, Bill, I know. Have you reached a decision?"

I thought for a few minutes. I had expected to deal with John. Finally, I said, "Yes, I have decided to accept your offer."

"Good, there is just one thing, though. I want you to get Sandy to come back as well."

"I don't know if I can do that. You see, Sandy thinks that I killed her husband. I doubt if she will want to work with me."

"Bill, have you read this morning's paper?"

"No, my paper was unreadable."

"What?" she asked.

"Never mind, it is a long story, and it really doesn't matter. Should I get another copy, or can you fill me in?"

"No, I would rather have you read this story yourself. I think you will find that Sandy will change her mind about working with you. Call me back when you have read it." And then she hung up.

I thought about going back into the bar to get the paper I had bought for Mary, but then I figured that would just delay things. I had been successful in getting both Mary's to stay with Jack, and I did not want to press my luck. So instead I stopped at the convenience store across the street. I bought a paper and a cup of coffee to drink while I read it.

I decided to take it to the office and read it in the atrium. I settled down on one of the benches under a couple of trees. I opened the coffee and took a drink while I cracked the paper. I saw nothing of interest on page one of the main section. I continued to leaf through the paper, scanning the headlines. Finally, on the first page of the local news, I found what I was looking for. "Local drug dealer arrested for the murder of Ray Langley," the headline read. So that was what Mrs. Carrington meant by Sandy changing her mind about me. My only problem was that I recalled the conversation with Jack in which he had suggested that he could pass the crime off to someone else. Was this the cas, or was this guy really guilty? I knew that I had to find out for sure. Before I called Mrs. Carrington back, I had to go to see Bull. As much as I wanted Bull off my back, I could not allow an innocent man to take the fall for me.

I picked up the paper and headed back to my car. For the first time in a while, I didn't see what I could say was a police officer hanging around. Just like a cop, there is never one when you need them.

I headed downtown, not knowing whether Bull would actually be at the station or not. At least I could leave him a message. When I got there, I went to the desk and asked for Detective Snyder. After making a couple of calls, the officer informed me that someone would show me to the upstairs interview room. I thought of telling him I knew the way, but I figured it best just to follow instructions. After a short wait, I was escorted upstairs. Bull met me at the top.

"You never cease to amaze me, Anderson. When I want to see you, I have to chase you down and listen to a ration of shit to get you to talk to me. Now, I have no reason to look for you anymore, and you come to me. What do you want?"

"I know we have not always got off on the right foot, but I need to talk with you about this Ray Langley thing. Are you sure you have the right man?"

"Why do you want to confess now?"

"No, I just don't want to see another innocent man to go down for this case. I think it is possible that somebody is trying to set this guy up."

"Jesus Christ, Anderson. I thought you would be happy to get me off your back and now here you are almost asking me to look at you for this crime again. What is it with you?"

"Look, I am only asking you to make sure about this. I don't know if this guy is guilty or not, but you were wrong about me, maybe you are wrong about him."

"You know I have half a mind to call the psych squad and have them evaluate you."

I resisted the temptation to agree with him. I too, thought he had half a mind. Instead, I said my goodbyes and decided to call Sandy.

I waited until I was outside the station and then made the call. She answered on the third ring. "Sandy, this is Bill, can I talk with you for a few minutes?"

"Bill, I saw the paper this morning. It seems that I owe you a huge apology. What can I do to make up for the way I acted?"

"Well, as a matter of fact. You could come back to work. I have been reinstated. We always worked well together in the past. I could sure use your help."

"Well, I could use the work," Sandy said. "But are you sure that you want me around, after the way I treated you?"

"Sandy, I never took any offense from what you said. You were upset, and Detective Snyder had you all confused. You are the best secretary I have ever worked with. I need you."

"Alright, is tomorrow fast enough. I have to get my work clothes ready and have my hair done."

"That would be great, see you in the morning," I said and hung up.

Now I needed to call Mrs. Carrington. I dialed John's number because she had answered it last time, and I did not have a direct number for her. To my surprise, she answered John's phone again. "Well, Anderson, you must be a slow reader. It has been almost three hours."

"Sorry about that, I had a couple things to do. One of them was to get hold of Sandy. She has agreed to come back to work for us. What are we going to do with the young woman that was working for Godfrey?"

"I have something in mind for her. How do you think she would look in a French maid's uniform?"

"You know me, Mrs. Carrington, I only have eyes for Mary."

"You are so full of shit. Make sure you are at the office in the morning. I expect you to turn that sales force around."

"Yes, ma'am, I will do my best." I started to hang up, but I heard her voice again.

"And, Anderson, treat Sandy well. She is quite a woman." And then she hung up the phone.

I wondered what she had meant by that. And how did she know what type of woman Sandy was? But I sure wasn't going to call her back to find out.

It was getting late, and I still had to go back to the bar and decide which Mary would go home with me. Well, I might as well get it over with.

Chapter Forty-Seven – The Contest

I entered the bar, and Jack met me before I had hardly gotten inside. "Listen, Bill, I think I have an idea of how you can decide between them. Why not let them play a game of pool for you?"

"What? How is that going to tell me which one is my Mary?"

"That is easy. You take the loser. Ellen is a real shark. There is no way that Mary could beat her unless Ellen threw the game. She wants you so much that I am sure she would not do that. I will tell the girls that the winner will get to go home with you. That way you won't have to tell them a lie yourself. Ellen will win easily, and you will have your answer. What do you think?"

"Well, if you're sure, I guess we could give it a try."

Jack went over to speak with the girls, and I watched for their reaction. The black haired girl seemed excited, and the blond seemed apprehensive. But both of them nodded in agreement, and the game started. The brunette broke and ran the table. The blond never got a shot. I thought that was insufficient proof and told Jack so. He agreed, and the balls were racked again. This time the blond broke, made two balls and missed. The brunette finished off the rack. That was good enough for me. I walked over and took Mary by the hand and told her we were going home. Ellen was irate, but Jack got between us before any real damage was done. When he finally had her calmed down, he turned to me.

"I am glad everything worked out for you."

"Jack, I want to ask you something. Did you have anything to do with that drug dealer being arrested for Ray's murder?"

"Bill, you asked me not to do something like that. Would I do anything that you think is, unethical?"

"There you go answering my questions with a question. Can't I ever get a straight answer from you?"

"You have to forgive me, Bill. I am used to being a little evasive. Of course, I didn't have anything to do with that man's arrest. I heard he is a drug dealer. They are really my best friends. They open so many people up to my influence. I think I will get him a good lawyer."

"Thanks, Jack. Somehow I am sure I will see you soon. I am going to take Mary home now."

"I will look forward to your next visit," he said.

With Mary in hand, I headed home.

Chapter Forty-Eight – Threats and Violence

As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed something lying on the cement. I got out of the car and went to where it lay. It was a big black rat, and it was dead. On the cement a sign was written in blood. "This should be you," it said.

"Doesn't anyone read anymore?" I thought. Well, this should be the last of this kind of thing. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal. I got a shovel and put the rat into the garbage can. I made a mental note to come out after supper and clean the blood from the driveway. I was glad that Mary had not gotten out of the car. I knew I would have to explain it, but it would be better coming from me than the shock of actually seeing the rat.

I got back in the car, and Mary simply said, "Another threat wasn't it?"

"Yeah, some nut has not read the paper yet. This will be the last one. Don't worry about it."

"Easy for you to say. Personally, I am scared to death. I still think you should call the police."

"I already had a talk with Detective Snyder today." It was the truth. I just didn't tell her that it was about something other than the threats. I guess you could call it a lie by omission.

When we finally got inside, and I had washed up, I waited for Mary to start dinner. When she made no effort to do so, I asked her why.

"Oh, no, you don't. I am not going to fall into that trap again," she said. "You do the cooking. That way, you will only be confused about what I do to you afterward."

"Oh yeah. Promise you will be gentle with me." I smiled as I started for the kitchen.

I will not bore you with what we had for dinner or what we did afterward. I will only say that Mary was not gentle.

The next morning, feeling sore in places that I shouldn't, I pulled myself out of bed. I made coffee and took a long hot shower. Mary did not join me, so I figured that after checking my email, I would get breakfast on the road. I checked my personal email first, and there was the strange address again. This time the message was, "A life for a life." I figured that it might have been sent before yesterday's paper came out. So I checked the time and date. Nope, it was posted this morning. "Why doesn't this guy read the paper?" I thought.

Before leaving the house, I checked to see if Mary had awakened. She hadn't, she was sleeping with a gentle smile on her face. "What an angel," I thought. As an afterthought, I picked up my gun and slipped it into my coat pocket. "Better safe, than sorry," I thought.

I headed for McDonald's. As I entered, I noticed the sign prominently posted on the door. It read, "No firearms allowed." I thought about putting the gun in the car, but if I needed it, it wouldn't do any good there. I ordered a big breakfast and a cup of coffee. Only then did I realize that I had not picked up the paper from the drive. I could either eat and look conspicuous, or I could go outside and buy one from the machine. I chose the latter course. By the time I returned, my meal was ready. I took it and found a quiet spot in the corner. I seasoned my food, cracked the coffee, and opened the paper.

"Drug dealer, accused of murder, killed in his cell," the headline read. Well, it looked like that ended that case. Jack obviously didn't get the right lawyer soon enough. I read the complete article trying to find out how someone could be murdered in a locked cell, but the newspaper didn't provide that information. Strange, but I had come to expect poor reporting from the local paper. I finished my meal and coffee and headed for the office. I was about a mile down the road when my side window suddenly exploded. Glass hit me in the face, and I was barely able to keep control of my vehicle. I had an idea of what had happened, and I decided to keep going a little further just in case. When I was at a safe range, I pulled into a parking lot. Only then did I check to see if the window had been shot out. I couldn't be sure, and with shaking hands, I dialed the police.

Miraculously, Bull was the first one on the scene. He inspected the car and then turned to me. "You, really ought to have those cuts looked at"

I hadn't even realized that I was cut. I guess my adrenaline had kept me from feeling them. I walked to the car and looked in the side view mirror. Blood was streaming down the left side of my face. I looked down and saw that my shirt and coat were probably ruined. None of the cuts seemed severe enough to require stitches.

"I'll be alright," I said to Bull. "What do you think caused this?"

"You know as well as I do. Somebody used your window for target practice. The slug is lodged in the other door. We will have to impound your car until I can get a technician to dig it out. It appears that somebody still doesn't like you a lot. I notice you are still carrying that cannon. I doubt if they are going to let you get close enough to use it. Maybe, I should take you into custody for your own protection."

"Your protection didn't do the drug dealer any good. No thanks, I feel safer out here where I have a chance to protect myself."

"Most of these nuts don't just start shooting. Normally they would send you a few warnings first. Is there anything you might want to tell me?"

I told him about the emails, paper, and rat.

"Why in hell, didn't you call us? We might have been able to catch this nut. Now you have destroyed most of the evidence. Come on, I'll take you home. You can't go to work like that, and I want to take a look at your computer. With your permission; of course."

"Yeah, ok. I would like to clean off some of this blood before I go home though. I don't want to scare Mary any more than I have to. If you drive by the office, I can use the restroom there. I would appreciate it."

"That sounds like a plan. I will check out your office just to be on the safe side. Come on, let's get going."

It was only a short drive to the office, but I used that time to call Mary to make sure she was all right. She answered on the third ring with sleep still in her voice. I didn't want to alarm her, but I really didn't know how to tell her to be careful without doing so. "Mary, this is Bill. I will be home in a little while. Don't answer the door for anyone. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Bill, what is going on? Has something else happened? Are you all right?"

"I am fine. I am with detective Snyder right now. I will explain everything when I get home. Just don't leave the house or answer the door. Can I count on you to do that?"

When she answered in the affirmative, I told her I loved her and hung up the phone. We were just pulling into the office parking lot as I did so. Bull turned to me and said, "Anderson this nut may well know that you are coming here. Let me check out the parking lot before you get out of the car."

I noticed that Bull had parked between two high profile vehicles. I figured that was to cut down on any sniper's possible angle. There was no room to hide in front of the car, so any assault would have to come from behind. After a couple of minutes, Bull returned.

"Ok, it looks safe enough. Stay close to me, and if I tell you to get down, do it immediately. I will also enter your office first. Are we clear on all this?"

"Never let it be said that I don't follow instructions. I will be right behind you."

We entered the office, and the first thing I saw was Sandy sitting behind her desk. She took one look at me, and her expression told me how bad I must look.

"Bill, what in the world happened to you? Were you in some kind of accident? You look a mess."

"It wasn't an accident. Someone took a shot at me on the way to work. I am sure you know detective Snyder."

Bull then addressed Sandy. "Hello, Sandy, has there been anything strange happen here today?"

"Strange, in what way?" she asked.

"Well, has there been any unexpected calls or visitors? Anything at all out of the ordinary?"

"No, there were a couple of calls for Bill, where the caller wouldn't leave his name, but I wouldn't say that was unusual. Other than that the only person who has been here was the UPS man. He left a package for Bill. I put it in your office, Bill."

I started for my office, but Bull grabbed my arm. And then he addressed Sandy again. "I am sure that there is nothing strange about UPS dropping off a package. But did you notice who it was from?"

"That is a little strange now that you mention it. I know pretty much all the companies that send us stuff. Most of those packages are addressed to the company. This one was addressed to Bill, and from someone, I didn't recognize."

"I am probably getting paranoid, but I think we need to evacuate the building until the bomb squad can get here to check out that package." Bull then used the office phone to call the bomb squad. When he was done, I asked him why he didn't use his police-issued phone.

"Just trying to be cautious. Sometimes the frequency of a cellular phone can set off an explosive device. Now let's get out of here. We can clear the rest of the offices as we leave."

Sandy grabbed her purse, and we headed for the door. As we got into the hallway, we noticed two uniformed police officers entering the front door. Bull went over to talk with them and then returned to us. "You two come with me. Stay behind me but keep close. I doubt that this is a real bomb, but it might be a ruse to get you out in the open. And Anderson, keep your finger off the trigger of that gun. I don't want you getting excited and shooting me in the ass."

I didn't bother to respond. There had been times in the past when the thought had struck me, but right now, Bull was the only thing standing between some madman and me.

Bull led us to his car and had us get in the back seat. Once we were inside, he immediately backed out of the space and started for the main street. As we were pulling out, several marked police cars and a large van were coming in. "I just wanted to get you two out of there before we got blocked in. I feel a little better being somewhere nobody knows we're at. What do you say we grab a cup of coffee, somewhere and let the boys do their work here?"

As we drove, I could see Bull's eyes in the rearview mirror. I knew that he was making sure that we were not being followed. He made several turns before he was satisfied and finally pulled into a restaurant. I was surprised that he did not pick a donut shop or a fast food place. Then I reasoned that he probably did not want to be seated somewhere by a lot of plate glass windows. Why take the chance, even if you believed you had not been followed.

We entered and asked for seats in the center of the restaurant. After we were seated and ordered coffee, Bull addressed Sandy. "The reason I asked you to come with us is that I wanted to ask you a few questions. I know that you at one time believed that Bill might be responsible for Ray's death. Obviously, you no longer feel that way, or you would not be working for him again. My question is, do you know anyone else, either in your family or Rays that might still be harboring a grudge?"

Sandy seemed to take a long time to answer. Finally, she said, "No, some of Ray's family were convinced that Bill was responsible, at first. But, I have talked with them since that drug dealer was arrested and they seemed to be satisfied that cleared Bill. I have no idea who could be doing this."

"Is it possible that someone might have hired a hit man and have not been able to call him off?" Bull asked.

"Truthfully, I don't know anyone that could afford to hire a professional killer."

Just then, Bull's phone rang. He got up from the table and walked away before he answered it. I watched him to see if I could read his expression. At first, he frowned, and then I saw a slight smile come to his lips. I had no idea what either thing meant. And then he put his phone away and came back to the table.

"Well, it is all clear back at your office," he announced. I looked pretty foolish for a while. The package turned out to be some coffee that someone had sent you. Just to be safe, the bomb squad ran a dog through the place. They didn't find any bomb, but the rattlesnake in your filing cabinet might have been a small problem for you."

"You're kidding, right? How could a snake get into my filing cabinet?"

"I would guess that somebody put it there. The lab boys are dusting the place for prints. We have both yours and Sandy's fingerprints on file. We will send someone over to the hospital to get Godfrey's. Do you know where we can find the interim secretary? If we can find her and the cleaning crew, we can eliminate most of the legitimate prints."

"I really don't know who or where she is. Mrs. Carrington might be able to help you with that."

"Mrs. Carrington, what does she have to do with your office staff?" Bull asked.

"Well, it appears she has bought out controlling interest in my company. I asked her about the secretary, and she said something about seeing how good she looked in a French maid's uniform."

"You guys are out of your minds." Sandy interrupted. "You are talking like nothing much happened today. Bill gets shot at, and now you find a snake in the filing cabinet. Bill, I know you need my help right now, but I have had enough. I am sorry, but I quit. The only reason I am going back near that place is to get my car."

"I understand, Sandy," I said. "Until they find this nut, I don't even know what I am going to do. Detective, I really need to get home. I don't feel right about leaving my wife alone, right now."

"No problem. I will take Sandy back to get her car and then escort you home."

I paid the tab, and we headed out. We didn't talk much on the way. The whole thing seemed too surreal for any of us to make sense of it. We dropped Sandy off at the office and waited until she got in her car and started up. Then Bull headed for my house.

On the way, I asked him when I might be able to get my car back. His answer was that the technicians were actually through with it now, but there was no reason to hurry to get it back. I would have to have the window replaced anyway. "Strange that the window should have shattered like that. Normally the bullet would have passed straight through and only left a hole. Have you ever had that window replaced before?" Bull asked.

I tried to think back, but I couldn't remember having to replace the window. "I bought the car used. It is possible that the previous owner replaced it. Why is it important?"

"Not necessarily. Sometimes these window places don't use the same safety glass as the manufacturers. I just thought it might explain why it shattered."

"Were they able to tell anything from the bullet?" I asked.

"They haven't weighed it, but they think it was a standard 30 caliber hunting rifle that fired it. Judging from how low the bullet was in the passenger's door they figured it was fired from somewhere above you. It probably came from a rooftop across the street. They are combing that area to see if they can find the shell casing. If we can find it, we might get some prints off of it. Right now, we need all the clues we can find. I still suspect someone from the family, but without evidence, we are working blind."

"I don't understand any of this," I said. "After all, even if you hadn't arrested somebody, there wasn't any real evidence that I was in any way involved. This has to be someone that has a screw loose."

"I hope not for your sake. Crazy people can be far more dangerous than those that are sane. They never worry about the consequences to themselves. Therefore they take more chances. In any event, we should get some clues from the emails you received. It is pretty easy for our computer guys to trace where they came from. Look, it might be a good idea if you and your wife got out of town for a few days. Give us some time to catch this guy."

"I will certainly entertain that thought with Mary. I just don't know where we would go."

"Somewhere with a lot of people, I would suggest," remarked Bull. "Vegas or Atlantic City. You may not think so, but you have been fortunate lately. You might put a quarter in a machine and end up a millionaire."

I looked at him like he had two heads. "Lucky? I have been shot at and had a rattlesnake placed in my filing cabinet. How is that lucky?"

"The bullet missed you, and you didn't get a chance to open the cabinet. Think about it. If you had been stopped at a red light instead of driving, you would most likely be dead. As it was, he only missed by a few inches. And then we screw up and call in the bomb squad. We didn't find a bomb, but the dogs found the snake. If you hadn't insisted on going to the office instead of home, he might still have been waiting for you tomorrow. Sounds quite fortunate to me."

"Yeah, the Lord works in mysterious ways," I remarked.

"Funny, I wouldn't have taken you for a religious man," Bull stated.

"Religious no. I was just being facetious with that previous remark. But thinking about it, I have always believed in God. I just haven't always agreed with him."

"Yeah, being in this business, it is hard to imagine an all-loving God. If I had the power that He has, I would not allow the misery that I see."

It was dark when we pulled into the driveway of my house. I looked for Bull to give me instructions before I got out. I guess he sensed my uncertainty. "We should be all right, going to the house. There isn't enough light to shoot by unless your wife suddenly turns on the yard light. Just stay close to me."

As we entered the house, Mary came to meet us. She took one look at me, and her face went white. Only then did I realize that I had never taken the time to clean up. I must look a mess.

"God, Bill, what happened to you? I hope the other guy looks as bad."

"Mary, I will explain later. Right now, I need to show Detective Snyder my computer. I will explain everything to you later. Maybe you could get us something to drink."

"Certainly, what would you like Detective? I just made a fresh pot of tea." Mary said.

"Tea will be fine," Bull told her.

I then showed Bull to the computer and brought up my email. As I opened it, I noticed the same strange address and opened it. It read, "Your time has come. I won't miss again."

Bull read the email and then checked the properties. He took out a pad and pen and wrote down the information on the properties page. He then checked the other emails and did the same with them. He asked me if I could print out the pages for him, and I did.

Bull drank his tea, seemingly in two gulps, and then got up to leave. "Take my advice, Bill, get out of town for a few days. It won't take our computer department long to figure out where these came from. I know it is late tonight, but maybe you could check into a hotel for the night."

"I will discuss it with Mary, but I think we will be alright tonight. This place is pretty secure, and I still have my cannon, as you call it."

"Well, I can't order you to leave. I will ask to have an extra presence in the neighborhood tonight. If this guy sees a few patrol cars driving the area, he may think twice about trying anything. Well, goodnight. Keep the doors locked and call me if anything seems suspicious."

Chapter Forty-Nine – A Terrible Night

As soon as Bull had walked out the front door, Mary came to me. "All right, Bill, I have waited long enough. Let's get you cleaned up, and then I want to know everything."

She then led me into the kitchen and sat me down in a chair in front of the sink. She ordered me to take off my coat and shirt and then began to cleanse my wounds. Only when she was done and had administered antibiotic cream to the wounds did she speak. "Ok, now I want to know exactly what went on today. If you lie to me, I will cut off sections of your body that you may want to keep. Do I make myself clear?"

"Wow, how did you know that I find dominant women attractive?"

"Bill, don't start this nonsense with me, right now. I am serious. You can't just walk in here covered with blood and then try to joke your way out of it."

"Ok, fix me a drink, and let's go in the living room. I will tell you what happened but don't overreact. I am fine, and Bull will find out what is going on." I then headed for the living room.

Mary brought me a bourbon and ginger ale and then took her seat next to me. I told her about the emails, and what had transpired today. I did conveniently leave out the part about the rattlesnake. I figured that was one lie by omission that was worth it. I could see by the look on Mary's face that she was freaked out enough. No sense driving her over the edge. I also told her about Bull's advice that we leave town.

"Well, we haven't had a vacation in a long time. Why not? Where do you want to go?" Mary asked.

"How about Vegas?" I asked.

"I didn't think you were that much of a gambler. I kind of look at you more as a donator."

"Well, Bull thought that I was on a lucky streak. He might be right. Besides, it is only money." I told her.

"How about tonight?" she asked. "Do you think it is safe to stay here?"

"We'll keep the doors locked. No one can get in. In the morning, we will pack and get out of town. Bull will catch the nut, and we can get back to our regular old boring life." I joked.

"Oh, so now I am boring? Well, let's go up to bed, and we will see about that."

"As much as I would like to accommodate you, I am afraid I have had enough violence for one night." I barely was able to dodge the pillow she threw at me.

After another drink, we decided to settle down for the night. Before going upstairs, I carefully checked all the door and window locks. They were all in place. I went upstairs, and Mary was already waiting for me, dressed appropriately for the occasion. The only thing she was wearing was a pair of fur mittens. I looked at her with a curious expression.

She laughed and said, "I thought I would take it easy on you tonight."

I can tell you that even though my back did not take the abuse, it had lately, the rest of my body did. Afterward, lying in her arms, I thought about how good life really could be. I had just started to doze off when something awakened me. I sat up in bed and listened. And then I heard it, the sound of breaking glass. I grabbed my gun and robe and headed for the stairs. I had left a nightlight on in the hallway, so it was not totally dark. I could see the front door and realized that the side window had been broken out. I saw a gloved hand snake through the opening and flick the deadbolt open. I had moved a few stairs downward when the door started to open. At first, I thought of firing a warning shot through the side of the door, but I knew that this had to end here. I took careful aim and fired where I figured the intruder's body would be. The roar of the gun almost deafened me, and I had miscalculated the kick of a handgun filled with magnum bullets.

I lost my footing and started to fall. I dropped the gun and grabbed for the railing to break my fall, but I actually made things worse. Instead of sliding down on my buttocks, I started to spin. I don't know how many times my head and shoulders hit the stairs, but I ended up lying in a heap at the bottom. The pain was incredible, and I knew that at least one hip was broken and probably an arm and leg as well. I tried to stand but couldn't even get to my knees. Just before I passed out from the pain, I saw Ellen lying in front of the door. Blood was pouring out of a wound in her upper body, and then everything went black.

When I finally came back to consciousness, I was in the hospital. The first thing I saw was Bull sitting in a chair at the side of my bed. I tried to look around to see if Mary was there, but I couldn't see her. I don't know how long it took to shake all of the cobwebs from my mind, but I saw Bull get up out of the chair and start towards my bed.

"Well, Anderson, you finally did it well. I was just starting to believe in you, and now this."

I finally regained my voice and asked him where Mary was.

"I am afraid she is in the morgue. You should know. You killed her."

"What are you talking about? I shot Ellen."

"Ellen? Oh, yeah, the woman that has been dead for the past eight years. No, it was your wife we found shot to death in front of your door. Why did you have to shoot her the second time? You might have been able to convince us it was an accident. That second bullet in her head kind of put an end to that defense. Of course, she might have survived the first bullet. I guess you couldn't take a chance on that. I need to read you your rights. And then, if you want to make a statement, I will take it from you."

And then I blacked out again.

# EPILOGUE

The trial went pretty much as you might expect. The prosecution opened by painting a picture of a husband desperately trying to get rid of his wife. They contended that I had even gone so far as to try and fake death threats so that the killing would appear accidental. The second shot proved that it was cold-blooded murder. That shot had come less than six inches from Mary's head.

Travis countered by showing that there was no motive, and although at first glance there appeared to be an opportunity, there was no way that I could have crawled across the room, fired the second shot and crawled back to the base of the stairs. The injuries to my body had been too significant. He showed pictures of me in a full-body cast and had doctors testify as to the extent of the damage to my body.

The prosecution countered with other doctors that testified that with heightened adrenalin that people had performed many more complicated tasks. The ballistic team also testified that there was only one set of prints on the gun. On cross-examination, Travis tried to show that someone wearing gloves could have fired the second shot. The problem with that line of reasoning was that none of my prints were smudged. It would have been difficult for someone else to handle the weapon without disturbing the original prints. Normally it would not be wise for a man to testify in his own behalf, but after listening to all the evidence, Travis admitted that our only hope was that the jury believed me.

I told my story to them precisely as I have to you. Many times when he felt that I was elocuting, the prosecutor objected. Amazingly the judge overruled most of them. It took three days before the prosecution got the opportunity to cross-examine me. All that time, I sat in front of the stand in my wheelchair. The jury was made up of six women and six men. Finally, Travis turned me over to the prosecutor.

"Now, Mr. Anderson, would you have us believe that you shot your wife by accident?"

"No, sir," I said. "I did not shoot my wife. I shot an intruder breaking into my home."

"Did you recognize this intruder?" he asked.

"Yes, after I fired, I realized that it was a woman by the name of Ellen Sanchez."

"Ellen Sanchez?" He seemed to leaf through his notes for a long time. "Would this be the same Ellen Sanchez that was killed in an auto accident, eight years ago?"

"I know that sounds strange, but I believe this woman was impersonating the dead woman," I explained.

"And how do you explain that her body was not found at the scene, but your wife's body was?" He asked with sarcasm in his voice.

"I am sorry I can't explain it."

"But you admit shooting someone on the night of October 28th?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"How many times did you shoot this person?" he asked.

"I fired one round through the door as she was coming through it. I misjudged the recoil of my weapon. I had not fired it in several years. It caused me to lose my balance, and I fell down the stairs. Before I passed out, I saw Ellen lying in the hallway, just inside the door. I tried to get to her but passed out from the pain. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital."

"And where was your handgun after you fell?" he asked.

"I must have dropped it when I fell. I never saw it again."

"Then how do you explain that your wife was found with two bullets in her, one fired at close range?" he asked.

"I can't explain it. When I went to investigate the sound of breaking glass, Mary was still in bed."

"Mr. Anderson, would you tell us about your relationship with your wife?" he asked.

"Mary and I were very much in love."

"Did you have arguments?"

"Very few. Most of the time, we got along extremely well."

"Can you tell us about the last argument you had?"

I told him about the night Mary had come back from her sisters.

"And can you tell us about your relationship with Ellen Sanchez?" he demanded.

"I did not have a relationship with her. I only met her a few times, and I was never alone with her."

"But you do admit meeting a woman that has been dead for eight years?"

"Well, meeting a dead woman does sound a little offbeat," I answered

"Are you trying to make us believe that you are insane?" he scoffed.

"Absolutely not, I am as sane as you are."

He continued to pound away on the same line of questioning for what seemed to be hours. I answered his questions as best I could. Unfortunately, I had very few answers to give him. Finally, he gave up and rested his case. Travis did not bother to re-cross, and since he had no other evidence, rested his case as well.

The closing arguments went much as the opening statements had. The prosecutor claimed that I had fabricated the whole story to hide my intention to kill my wife. And then I had lied about shooting Ellen to make the jury believe I was insane.

Travis countered with the doctor's testimony that I could not have got to Ellen to fire the second shot. He again pointed out that the prosecution had failed to provide even a hint of a motive.

The jury was out for the better part of three days. Finally, I was brought back into the courtroom to hear the verdict. I watched the jury trying to get an idea of how they would vote. Travis, on the other hand, paid no attention. I think he believed he knew what the verdict would be. One female juror had strangely familiar dark eyes.

The judge then announced that the jury was hopelessly hung. They were unable to reach a verdict. I later found out that they were split 7 to 5 in favor of conviction. The judge asked the prosecutor whether he was going to seek a second trial. At that point, the prosecutor asked for an audience in chambers. He suggested that I be given a lie detector test to determine if I believed my own story. It could not be used in court, but I agreed to take the test against Travis's vehement objection.

I was given the test the following morning. It started out with innocent questions. "Is your name, William Anderson?" "Yes." Do you live at ___?" "Yes?" "Is your phone number ___?" That question almost got me. I hardly ever call myself. But then I answered, "Yes."

Then the questions changed to the happenings of October 28th. "Did you shoot your wife?" "No." Did you shoot a woman by the name of Ellen Sanchez?" "Yes." "Did you fire more than one shot?" "No."

I don't know how many more questions were asked, but I answered them as honestly as I could. It took a couple days before the test was deciphered. Then we were called back into the judge's chambers. It was announced that I had passed the test. The prosecution then offered a plea of guilty by reason of insanity. Of course, I could not take that plea. I don't believe that I am insane. That is when the judge ordered me to come and see you.

"Well, I guess I have told you everything. Will there be any more questions?"

"Oh, you want to know when Ellen and Mary changed bodies. Well, Jack told me that they couldn't actually do that, but I believe that was one of the few times he actually lied to me. I think that it was a gradual progression. I think Mary had some of Ellen in her when she came back from her sisters. At some point possibly at the Carrington's' the weekend I was arrested for Ray's murder' they made a deal to change completely. As I said earlier, I knew in my heart that Mary could not have made as many drastic changes as she seemed to. At that point, Ellen had full control of Mary's body. At about that time, Mary became tired of the game and wanted to come home. I can only assume that on that night, she decided to force the issue. She probably thought that the spare key was still under the loose brick. When she found that it was not, she decided to break the window with the brick. At that time, she was in Ellen's body, so when I shot her, it was actually Ellen that I saw. Does any of this make any sense?"

"You want to know what happened to Ellen. She visits me every night. She keeps telling me that everything will be all right. That Mary can never come between us again."

"And Jack? Ellen said he closed the bar. He told her it just wasn't as much fun as when I was visiting. The funny thing is I really miss him. Do I sound crazy to you, Doctor?"

The End.

### Acknowledgments

### I would like to thank those that helped to make this story happen. First to Patrick Blair, who decided to share a rough draft with the ladies that worked at our office building. If he had not done that, the story would have taken a completely different direction. You see I did not start out to write a novel. It was initially intended to be just a short story about a man humiliating his wife. It would have been more pornographic than it turned out to be. However, when I found out that a couple of women were reading it, I had to take it in a different direction.

### And secondly, I want to thank Wendy and Andrea, the couple of ladies that Patrick shared the story with. If it had not been for them continually egging me on for another chapter, I might have given up.

### And if you have thoughts that you would like to share with me directly, you can write to me at waynesimmes@yahoo.com.

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