"In Cold Blood" Pt. 01

I went out to the living room to think things over. What if I was wrong? What if she'd been tricked or blackmailed? What if the whole thing was just some awful mistake? Then again, if any of that was true why hadn't she tried to come back or at least call? What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to believe? I know what I wanted to believe. My lawyer said to talk to people. Maybe someone knows something? Who could I call?

I guessed I should start at the top. I decided to call Susan. I got out my phone and punched up her number. She used that Def Leopard thing "Ramble On" on her phone. It rang five times and went to voice mail. I shut mine off. She'd see I tried.

Susan's best friend at work was Marian Hildebrand. They teamed together; Susan math, Marian science. I looked through my listings, found Marian's number and hit dial. I hoped it wasn't too late. Turned out it wasn't.

After the second noise, why do people always have to have those stupid songs, Marian clicked on, "Hi Larry?"

"Yes, I was wondering if..."

"Gee, I'm sorry," she said, "I saw on TV and read about it in the papers. Susan and a car salesman. Crazy. How're you doing?"

"Not too good Marian. Marian look. I was wondering. Have you...seen anything? I mean out of the ordinary?"

"Um, gosh Larry. I don't know what to say. You don't know anything do you."

"No, I...What do you mean?"

There was a long pause on the other end. Then Marian responded, "I mean about Susan and...you know."

I started to have this creepy feeling, "Know what? I don't know anything except what I saw and read. Is there something else? Was he like blackmailing or her or something? Was it something I ought to know?"

"Larry I don't think I should talk about it. I mean you know...she and I...well we work together, and... our..."

"About what? This is about blackmail isn't it?"

Marian's voice was like real nervous, "No not that, nothing like that."

"Well tell me Marian. What is it?"

"Larry I've got to hang up. Bye," and with that Marian shut off her phone.

I sat there and stared at my IPhone and thought, 'What was that about? Maybe I should try someone else. Who should I call? I thought; 'Terry Reinhold! Terry was another teacher on Susan's team. He taught English.

I found Terry's number and punched it in. It only rang one time. It was Terry right away; he started jabbering, "Look Larry it wasn't my fault. I didn't know...

I was numb, "Didn't know what?"

There seemed to be another one of those pregnant moments, then Terry said, "I didn't know about...um...the car salesman. I would've told you. It wasn't my fault."

"No of course it wasn't your fault, but can you tell me anything?"

"Uh no. Hey have you asked Marian? She might know something."

"I already called her."

"Oh you did. Did she say anything about...anything?"

"No, only...hey wait a minute; what about Gary Sizemore?"

"The school principal," replied Terry, "oh I wouldn't ask him anything."

"Why not?"

Terry seemed to be breathing heavily, "I don't know. I just wouldn't ask him. You know; he's our boss and all, Susan's job."

I replied, "Oh yeah sure." We both hung up. I was getting nowhere. I needed to free up some time. I checked my log. I had fishing trips scheduled for the end of the week, plus I was expected to put in some time around the marina. The marina I thought I could do, but the trips? No, I better do the trips too.

The next morning I got up, and I called my lawyer's office. Marge his secretary said the separation agreement was prepared. She further advised me it wasn't technically called a separation agreement in Maryland, but a 'limited divorce'. She said I should stop by to sign it, and then a copy would be presented to Susan.

I got to Mr. Bradley's office and signed it. When they asked where Susan's copy should be delivered I couldn't answer, but I'd find out right away. What I did was pull out my IPhone and located her car. As expected it was on her school's lot. Mr. Bradley had stepped out to his secretary's desk by then. I asked him if it would be appropriate if she got the papers where she worked. Mr. Bradley smiled and said it would be legal so I told him we should go ahead. He said he'd take care of it.

Relieved somewhat that Susan would be notified we would separate but not necessarily divorce. I was sure once she got the papers she'd call and want to talk things over; something I guess we should have done the night I found out. I guess I was feeling a little guilty I never let her tell her side.

Comfortable with what I'd done I drove over to see my mom and dad. I was kind of surprised. This was Tuesday, the television had put out the story on Sunday, and no one in the family had called. I supposed they were trying to be considerate; let us work out our problems without interference. Just the same I needed to talk to mom and dad, especially dad.

When I got to my parent's I realized both were at work. Damn, that would have to wait. Hungry I decided to stop off at Rory's Breakfast Nook.

Rory's was one of those places that had been around ever since I could remember. The owner operator was a Vietnam veteran; he'd used his G.I. benefits to go to college and then start his own business. He'd married some Jewish girl he'd met in Philadelphia, and after a few years they'd squeezed out a couple kids. Older now he only stayed open week day mornings.

One of his kids was Lisa-Ann; she'd been my old high school sweetheart, the one I'd left behind when I went off to College Park. Lisa-Ann had gotten married after I left, but no one knew where her husband got off to. They'd divorced and he'd run off. No one knew why. They never had any kids either. I supposed everyone in Rock Hall was sterile or on something.

Lisa-Ann's always been an interesting girl, smarter than most of the rest of us, but quiet and shy around groups. She's always had opinions though; a real Bella Abzug that one. Good thing she kept quiet; the Eastern Shore had always been pretty red necked. I'm a red neck I guess. She's a short girl, heavy but not what I'd call fat; tiny waist, nice breasts and a firm ass. She had long thick black hair, real dark brown eyes, but a pasty white complexion. She'd had an acne problem in high school but had most of the scars scraped off so no one could tell. I liked her when we dated, maybe even loved her a little, but that deep abiding stuff, that wasn't me back then. Nowadays she worked at her dad's restaurant waiting tables.

She's always had a kind of caustic way about her; hard to get used to if you didn't know her. I always thought it was her way to protect herself; the acne really bothered her when we were in school. I never teased her about it, but there were others, the 'crater face' thing from that old movie "Grease". She had some visual problems too. Nothing serious, but she had flat corneas or something so she couldn't wear contacts. She wore wire rimmed glasses mostly. They made her look even smarter but sort of squirrely too.

The thing about Lisa-Ann was she was always the girl who studied the hardest, did all the homework, got the best grades, never missed a day, and always knew the answers to all the questions no matter what the class was. She intimidated people. She sure intimidated me. I liked her, but I always felt stupid around her. Everyone figured she'd take off for some big Ivy League school. She never did though; she stayed home and helped her mom and dad.

I pulled in Rory's lot, got out, and went in. It was close to their closing time and not very busy, but I figured since they knew me and I was a 'regular' I'd at least get some toast. It's a seat yourself place so I found a seat at a booth and quietly waited, and waited, and waited.

I sat there and watched as nobody else came in and Lisa-Ann sat on a counter stool, had a coffee, and watched me. Finally she came over, "Morning Larry. Need anything?"

"Hi Lisa. Could I get some eggs?

"No mom's cleaning the grill."

"How about some toast?"

"White or whole wheat?"

"Whole wheat I guess."

"No, only got white."

"White'll do. Can I get some coffee?"

"Black?"

"Maybe a little cream."

"No, well OK. Be right back."

She walked back behind the counter. I watched her as she dropped the bread in the toaster and poured my coffee. I saw her open a fresh carton of Half & Half, and guessed that was why she'd first said no about the cream. She dropped the Half & Half container on the floor. Yeah, that was Lisa.

She came back with the coffee, "Read about things at home. Sorry."

I started to fidget. Lisa always made me nervous. I knew she was a lot smarter than me. I knew this, because she always used to throw it up to me about how stupid I was in math. She'd been my 'assigned' math and science tutor; that's how she came to be my girlfriend. I think the teachers set it up that way since no one wanted to take her anyplace, and she never got asked to any of the dances or ever had a date for her class's special activities. My English teacher even told me I should take her to the school dances, and her mom and dad paid all my costs for her class trips. What was surprising was, except for the acne, she was very pretty. Pretty until she opened her mouth.

So she said she was sorry about Susan. I said, "Yeah me too," then I had a hunch, "Lisa tell me, you get people in and out of here all the time. Have you heard anything?"

She looked at me like I was a moron. I knew it; out it came, "You're an idiot Larry," she turned back toward the counter.

Now what was that about? I left my toast and coffee and followed her to the counter, "What was that about?"

She'd already seated herself, that ass of hers looked great hanging there on that stool, "Larry you're a nice guy. I like you. Don't I always treat you nice when you come in here?"

I replied, "I come in every morning."

"And don't I have your coffee ready?"

"Ok, but what did you mean. Why'd you call me an idiot?"

She was looking at me like you'd look at an old dog or somebody's pet goose that had to be put down. Did you want to put it out of its misery today or wait till tomorrow? She said, "Look stupid I just work here. I don't ask people what they're talking about. I just serve up eggs and sausage and such."

She pissed me off, "You didn't have to call me stupid. I just asked a question."

"Well it was a stupid question," she said.

She was taunting me. I asked again, but in a different way, "Nothing? You've heard nothing?"

She looked at me a different way, "You want answers? Go to church."

I could get smart too, "Christ Lisa-Ann I'm Methodist. All we do is eat and sing."

"Change churches," was her answer.

"Lisa you know something. Come on."

She shrugged and looked to where I'd been sitting, "Yeah, your toast is cold."

Just then Mr. Kemmerick called over, "Lisa you're mom wants you to help with the trash."

Lisa answered her dad, "Be right there," she turned back to me, "just eat your toast and go to work," she looked at her watch, a cheap Timex, "you're already late. Mr. Willoughby will probably dock you."

Mr. Willoughby owned the marina. He never got to work before noon. Lisa got up and walked back to the rear of the restaurant. Her dad had just mopped the floor. I half expected her to slip and fall on her gorgeous round ass, but she didn't.

'So much for that,' I thought. I walked back to my dried out toast. Took a couple bites, sans butter, and dropped a $5.00 on the table. As I started for the door I heard the crash of dishes breaking on the floor, and Mrs. Kemmerick shouting, "Lisa!"

I chuckled quietly, "Yeah, that's Lisa." Then I left for the marina.

On the way down I got two texts. One was from Mr. Bradley's office, the papers had been delivered. The second was from Susan. All it said was, "F.U."

F.U.? F.U.! I hadn't expected that. I thought she'd call and want to talk. I drove on to the marina.

Understand, just for the record, while I'm not someone who likes to fight, I've been in a few, won some, lost some. I've been around the water. I've worked around some pretty tough customers; hard assed watermen, down on their luck pier-side workers, and half-drunk smart aleck rich kids with their stuffed shirt big mouthed know-it-all fathers, and that's not to mention the panhandlers and addicts. I'd put a few in their place, and I'd seen my name at the top of the page for it too. Add to that, like my two older brothers I'd been in the military. My oldest brother still is. Me and Johnny my next oldest brother both served in the National Guard; Johnny in supply, me in the motor pool. Dad's orders; gotta serve you know, do your part. Maybe I'd not been in some 'Special Forces' unit, but I'd gotten some training. I didn't hand out any shit, but I didn't take any either.

I got to the marina and right away I knew something was up, and it was more than just the car salesman. I tried to ignore a group of hourly workers by just walking past them. One of them had to say something. It was one of the smaller weaker guys. Isn't that how it always is?

The guy Marcus Haslip shot me a look and a remark, "Hey cuckie." Some of the others laughed. The ring leader was a big fucker named Roland McCreary. I use the term ring leader advisedly; McCreary was a tough son-of-a-bitch, real veteran, seen action, never talked about it. He didn't have to wear some hat to tell you he did something; the real ones never did. He never looked for trouble, but he could knock you on your ass if he wanted to, hard worker when he wasn't drunk. Like me he couldn't handle staying inside, but his was PTSD. He and I'd had always gotten along.

I tried to ignore them.

The pipsqueak yelled louder, "Hey needle peter!"

All right, a fellow turns the cheek once; but a second time? I stopped and played the Robert Di Nero, "You talkin to me?"

He laughed and smirked out, "Know anybody else whose wife's passing it around?"

I was fast! Before he knew what hit him he was on the ground, and based on the cracking sound, holding a broken jaw. I wasn't feeling my oats long though. Roland McCreary leapt the distance; he plowed his first fist right in my gut and a second in my face, and just like that I was on the ground beside Haslip.

McCreary, bigger than shit, standing almost astride me said, "You think the only one who got that poor stupid bitch you call a wife was some car salesman? Look around."

I just sat there on my ass and stared at him. Then I saw the look on Clay Meadows face.

Clay said, "I'm sorry Larry. It was her not me."

I was dumbfounded, "What?"

"She came on to me man. I'd been drinking, and before I knew it...well."

I rolled over on my hands and knees. My stomach was so fucked up! But I couldn't throw up.

McCreary looked down at me, "Happens to the best of us Larry." Then he looked at the others, "Come on. He's had enough."

Clay started to walk away with the others, but he looked back once, "Sorry man."

I sat there on the ground and watched them leave. My best friend. My fucking best friend. A couple businessmen walked by and looked at me. I guessed they were headed for their boats. One asked, "You all right?"

I slowly got up, "Yeah. I'm OK." I walked on down to where my vessel was tied up. At least I didn't have anyone scheduled to go out. But what was I going to do? Well I got out my IPhone and called my lawyer. I told him what I found out. He asked me what I wanted to do. I told him I didn't know. I needed to talk to my wife.

I spent the rest of the day hiding in my boat. I thought about things. I thought about McCreary; he'd got it pretty good, same girl all through middle school and high school, goes overseas for his country, gets the 'dear John', comes home, she's married to some urologist twice her age, and he's got what, a bronze star and a fucking thank you. Around 2:00 p.m. I finally got up enough nerve to go back out.

When I got to my home I got a surprise. Both my parents were there. So was my brother Johnny. They'd already let themselves in and were sitting in the living room. Johnny was drinking a beer.

I went in and said, "Hi."

Dad said, "We're sorry son."

Mom had this stricken look on her face. Johnny looked like death warmed over.

Dad looked at Johnny, "Tell him."

I thought, 'Oh no what now. Had something happened to Susan?' I asked, "Tell me what?"

Johnny looked at me, "Larry..."

"What is it Johnny?"

"You know your wife?"

"Yeah."

"Well I got her too."

I fell back on the sofa. This was too much. First some shit assed salesman, then my best friend, and now my own brother.

Johnny went on, "What can I say. You came back from Cancun..."

Cancun had been where we'd spent our honeymoon.

"She came over the day after you got back. My wife was at work. You know I worked the third shift back then. She said she wanted to try me out, and I'd been hanging around drinking beer. I thought why not. She slipped off her sundress and we did it on my sofa."

I said, "Oh shit. This can't be happening."

Dad glared at Johnny, "Finish it son."

"Well she told me she'd fucked Rich a couple days before you two left. She said she got him the night before her bachelorette party."

Rich is my oldest brother. I didn't know what to say or think, "Rich, and then you?"

"Jesus I'm sorry Larry. She said she wanted to compare. She wanted to see which of us was best."

I was numb. I just couldn't think of anything. My stomach was torn to shreds. I felt like I had an ulcer. I could hardly breathe.

Johnny kind of nodded, "I don't know if it means anything, but she said you were the best. I mean she said you gave her the biggest...you know...thrill."

My heart was beating so hard it felt like it would explode. I was going to pass out. I said, "Well thanks Johnny. That's a real vote of confidence. Anything else?"

"Yeah," he said, "that guy Terry at her work. He got her too. I overheard him bragging about it once. I told him he better shut up. I don't think he said anything after that."

I said, "I need a drink of water."

Mom jumped up and rushed in the kitchen. I looked at my watch. Man the chickens had come home to roost. And I hadn't even done anything! This was futile. I asked Johnny, "Anybody else?"

Mom handed me a water.

Johnny said, "I think she does her principal, a teacher I think, and sometimes one or two of the guys at the marina. That's all I think, but I'm not sure."

I looked at my mom and dad. What the fuck? I asked, "Dad did you do her?"

Dad looked real sad, "Son."

I said, "That a no or a yes."

He said, "That's a no son."

I said, "Just making sure," then I said, "Look I'd like to be alone for a while. That OK with all of you?"

They got up to go. As they reached the door Johnny looked back, "I'm sorry Larry."

I helped the three of them out the door, "Thanks Johnny."

A few minutes later I was wondering, 'is this what happens when someone gets shell shocked?' Honest, I just didn't feel anything. It was like it was all happening to someone else. I kept feeling confused and all disoriented. Like this was all some crazy nightmare. I could hardly breathe. My head hurt. My back ached. My whole body ached! I was dying.

Shit...

I went back to the living room and stretched out on the couch. I felt so bad! I got up and walked to the bathroom where we kept all the prescriptions. I'd hurt my back doing something unnecessary, we thought it was serious enough to see a specialist. Of course these days nobody saw a specialist without going through someone else first. I saw a P.A. He did an X-Ray, said an M.R.I. was pointless and prescribed something he said was new. He said to take it every twelve hours, but warned me there were a few minor side effects, one being drowsiness. I hadn't tried it yet; thought this might be the time. I took one pill, got a beer, went back in the living room, popped the thing in my mouth, took a swig and that we the last thing I remembered. Or so I thought...