143 comments/ 219000 views/ 40 favorites You Don't Fuck With JC By: whiteone_redone This story has very little explicit sex in it. It could have been submitted in several other categories including Reluctance / Non-consent. Enjoy. *************** I was dressed for work, sitting at the breakfast table with my cup of coffee and the morning newspaper. Janet was still in the bedroom dressing for work. There was nothing different about this morning to distinguish it from any of the previous work days in the past year. As my eyes scanned over the front page. There it was in the middle of the page. I knew it would be there. Carmine told me it would happen last night. Carmine never fails to do the things he said he would do. MAN FOUND MURDERED IN HIS GARAGE The news article went on to say that a Robert Toldson was found dead in his garage last evening. He had been beaten and then strangled with a garrote. The article said Robert Toldson was an employee of the Calcus Realty Agency. Janet is also employed by the Calcus Realty Agency. The police have no suspects at this time. The investigation was just beginning. There was no reason to read any more of the newspaper. I folded it and placed it on the table where Janet always sits in the morning. A sweet warm feeling washed over me as my mind sorted through all the factors that lead up to this morning. I was sipping my coffee as Janet came into the breakfast area. My god, was she beautiful! My wife of five years was more stunning today then she was seven years ago when I first met her. There was no "Good Morning, Dear" from either of us as she pulled out her chair and poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe. It's hard to believe just how far our marriage had plummeted in the past year. Our eyes met for a brief second, a slight smile passed my lips as I acknowledged her arrival. She said nothing to me. It had been this way for the past two months. After the major blow-out we had about her increased working hours, she seemed to crawl into her shell and did not wish to come out. I guess her coldness bothered me more than anything else. During our courtship and the early days of our marriage, Janet was such a warm loving companion. I truly missed that closeness. Now all of that was coming to an end. Janet picked up the paper in one hand, coffee cup in the other hand. Her eyes flashed across the headlines and started down the page as she took a sip of coffee. All of a sudden, she spewed the coffee from her mouth as her eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets. "Oh god, no!!!" she cried out as her eyes were transfixed on the article about Robert Toldson's murder. I just sat there in silence. There was nothing I needed to say to her about the subject. Janet looked as if she were about to vomit as she quickly rose from her chair and ran to the bathroom. I took a deep breath, got up from my chair and placed my coffee cup in the dishwasher. With my briefcase in hand, I went out to the garage and got into my car. I didn't care to ask Janet if she were alright, it didn't matter any more to me how she was feeling any more. **************************** Let me do some introductions at this time. My name is John Cannela, all my friends call me JC. I'm 29 years old and a product of Sicilian ancestry and the Italian section of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. My youth was mostly spent getting in trouble along with a gang of other young Italian boys. We used to think of ourselves as the Junior Mafia. I'll skip over most of the other bad stuff we got ourselves into, and focus on the one event that had a major change in my wayward direction. Carmine Vitalio and I were closer than two natural brothers. We were the same age and hung out with the same gang of guys. The major difference between Carmine and me was brain-power. I won't say Carmine was dumb or anything like that, it was just the fact he couldn't use his head to keep himself out of trouble with the law. Even though he and I did most of the bad stuff together, he was the one who usually got caught by the police. One night Carmine and I had broken into a dock-front warehouse. We were looking for some easy items to rip-off and make some cash for ourselves. The security guards must have seen us entering the building through the side window. They were waiting for us as we slipped back out the window with several boxes of MP3 players in our hands. The one guard grabbed Carmine just as I was turning around. The second guard tried to grab me, but I shove the box into his face. I jumped on the other guard's back and punched him on the side of his head with all my might. He let go of Carmine as I pulled him to the ground. I was shouting to Carmine to get his ass out of there as fast as he could. Carmine turned and ran off. The second guard recovered and grabbed me from behind. There wasn't much of a struggle after that. The guards had a nice time with me till the cops showed up. When they arrived they were laughing with the guards as they surveyed my bruised and bloodied body. I was taken to the police station and put in a holding cell till my parents came down to get me released. To make this long story short, I never gave up the name of the other person who was with me in the warehouse. I was given two weeks in jail and put on probation. Carmine called me several times to apologize for him skipping out when the guards grabbed me. I told him it was alright because if he had been caught, with his prior arrest record, he would have spent a year or more in jail. He vowed that he would make it up to me if it took him the rest of his life. My parents were angry and humiliated by my arrest. My dad thrashed my butt with his leather belt till it almost bled. Then I was told they were going to enroll me in St. Peter's Catholic High School because I needed to be straightened out one way or the other. Needless to say the nuns and the priest did a very good job in the discipline department. By my senior year, I had made a change in my lifestyle. One of the priest, who became a mentor for me, encouraged me to take a different path with my life. So it was, I dropped out of the neighborhood gang and finally did well enough that year to get accepted to Penn State. Again, cutting the long story short, I did well in college and graduated with a degree in Human Resources. It was easy to find a job with a good company upon graduation. For once, my parents were proud of me. Even though I dated a lot of women while I was in college, I wasn't ready for any long term commitments. It was three years after graduating from college when I met Janet Facanio. She was the first female who made me think twice about ending my bachelorhood. We met at a seminar for HR representatives. After the seminar, I got her phone number and told her I would call her. She seemed quite pleased with that prospect. Janet was different than any of the other women I had dated. There seemed to be many sides to her personality. At times, Janet seemed like Chris Costner Sizemore in the movie The Three Faces of Eve. The trait which I liked the least was Janet's stubborn personality. Whenever Janet took a mindset about a particular issue, there was no dissuading her from her belief, no matter how wrong that belief might be. Our courtship was an on-again-off-again affair. We never indulged in sexual relations during the first year of our dating. I found out that Janet had been abandoned as an infant. Her mother left her in a pew in the back of a church and walked out of her life. Her early years were spent in a home for orphan children and then in several foster homes as she became a teenager. I firmly believe it was this lack of having a mother to love and care for her caused most of Janet's personality problems. In spite of all her problems, Janet was the most loving and warm person I had ever known when she was with me during those first years. My parents were not strong supporters of Janet during our dating years. They always told me I would be sorry if I got too involved with her. I didn't listen to their good advice. Janet and I were married in a small ceremony at my local church. Janet and I both agreed that we would hold off having children until we were financially established and she would be able to quit her job and be a full time mother. That fact did not sit well with my parents. Things began to go sour in our marriage during the third year. The company Janet worked for was bought out by a larger company and her job was eliminated. She became very depressed by the loss of the job she really liked. We weren't in any financial difficulty, although her salary had been a nice sum to add to our savings account each month. It took several months before Janet finally landed a new job. It wasn't a job she particularly wanted. The job was office manager at the Calcus Realty Agency. I tried to be overly supportive of Janet during her unemployment period. Sometimes I felt she resented the fact that I had a job I truly enjoyed and she had to settle for a second-best job. For a long while, she had some serious mood swings especially during her monthly period. After working at Calcus for a couple of months, she slowly began to regain her normal pleasant personality. Things started looking better for the both of us. Our sex life which had suffered badly during Janet's unemployment period, was also on the rebound. There were times in our bedroom when I felt Janet was trying very hard to make up for the rough patch by being more aggressive with our love making. I never complained. For about nine months our married life was at its best. Janet became more enthusiastic about her job. She even began a home-study course in Real Estate. I was pleased with the change in her demeanor and loving wife she was to me. Then came "the good-news and the bad-news" situation. The "good-news". I was making a slow but steady progression up the management ladder with my company. I'd been with them for five years and my future looked very promising. Then came a merger with a company based in Atlanta Georgia which started a major change in my job responsibilities. The Atlanta company was to be assimilated into our corporate structure. As such, I would have the responsibility to train their personnel and to make headcount cuts as I saw necessary. I was really pumped up with my new job responsibilities. The "bad-news". My new assignments would mean I would be traveling out of town more often and for some longer periods away from home. Janet was not thrilled with the prospect of me being on the road so much of my time. Even during the longer periods on the road, I would manage to be home for the weekends. At first, this seemed to placate Janet's anger at my being away so much. But...and there always is a "but"...slowly my coming home for the weekends didn't seem to be enough to make up for the time away from home. Janet moved into her stubborn mindset in which she claimed I was enjoying being away from home and she subtly hinted that I might have a lover who I spent time with in Atlanta. Nothing I could do or say could move her away from this negative thinking. I would call her at work during the day and every night when she was at home. I sent flowers to her at work and I sent her humorous cards over the Internet. Her coolness toward me continued. It had taken the better part of six months to complete the staff training in Atlanta. My days as a "road warrior" were coming to an end. In addition, I was given a promotion at corporate headquarters. These were two things which I felt would cause a turn-around in Janet's attitude toward me. I was wrong. It seemed as soon as I stopped traveling, Janet started working longer hours at the agency. I tried to question her about the reasons for her working hours, she gave me some sarcastic answer about it being her turn to work for a promotion. She even said that it was time for me to know how it felt to be alone in the evenings. Our sex life was running on empty. Two weeks ago, Janet told me that she and several of the people at her agency would be away for the weekend attending a special introduction session with a developer who was beginning construction of high rise condominiums near the river front. She said it was imperative for her to get in on the ground floor with this developer. There was no asking me if it would be alright for her to be gone the entire weekend, she was going to go and that was the end of the discussion. Although I stopped running with the Junior Mafia when I was in high school, I did keep in touch with several of my closest friends. Especially my buddy Carmine. I called him up and asked him if he wanted to see the Steelers vs. Raiders game on Sunday. There wasn't any hesitation in his voice, we were going to the game. Carmine always knew how to get the best tickets to the Steelers games. I told him Janet would be away on business on Saturday and Sunday. He then told me to plan to spend the weekend with him and the "boys". We could catch up on all the bullshit that was going on in the old neighborhood. The thought of a weekend away from home and wife sounded really great to me. I didn't bother to tell Janet of my plans. Friday morning had been another 'chilly event' for us around the breakfast table. I briefly asked Janet if she had a phone number where I could reach her while she was gone. She very coolly told me not to bother to call her while she was gone because she would be with some very influential people. Taking phone calls from her husband would make her feel like I was a father checking up on his teenage daughter. I didn't press the matter any further. In the afternoon, Janet took her Weekender luggage and headed off to the airport and Atlantic City. Carmine was really glad to see me. It had been over a year since the two of us had gotten together. It seems I was one of the few guys from the Junior Mafia who had been successful in getting out of the old neighborhood before spending any more time in jail. Carmine would also remind me of the outstanding debt he owed me. "Anything you need JC, you just give Carmine a call and I'll take care of it for you." Saturday night was spent at the Sweet Pussycat lounge on the southeast side of town. The strip club could easily pass for the Buda-Bing club on The Sopranos show. There were a dozen or more young, scantly clad females dancing on stage and lap dancing in the audience. A sweet young thing, she couldn't be much more than a day older than her 18th birthday, came over and began to wiggle her smooth ass at my face. "Go ahead JC, she's yours for the night if you want her." Carmine said as he squeezed her left breast. "Sorry Carmine, but you know me. Always faithful to my wedding vows. I can't say I'm not seriously tempted but I do believe in loyalty and fidelity." I looked at the lovely young stripper and just shook my head 'no'. She pouted for a second and then moved on to try her luck with another horny male customer. "Damn! You're really serious about this fidelity thing aren't you, JC?" Carmine said with some disbelief in his voice. "You got that right. Without fidelity, there's nothing. No love. No marriage." The next morning was a typical cold windy Pittsburgh day. But that didn't matter to the hoard of fans who trekked off to Three Rivers stadium to see the game between the Steelers and the Raiders. There is a bitter rivalry between these two football teams which borders on gang warfare. Ever since the Steelers snatched victory from the jaws of defeat in one of the NFL's most memorable moments. With a fortunate bounce, Franco Harris found himself on the end of an unlikely reception that changed the outcome of a fantastic defensive struggle with the Oakland Raiders in the first-ever playoff game at Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium. Neither team has forgotten that legacy. It's a good thing guns are not permitted on the playing field. The Steelers weren't having a great year. At this point in the season, they were 5 wins and 5 losses. Today would be the biggest game of the season...the Silver and Black were back in town. It was hard-head-banging all afternoon on the football field. I was getting hoarse from all the shouting and screaming I had been doing. But, the final score was Steelers 21, Raiders 20. The day couldn't have ended on a better note. Or so I thought. As much as Carmine wanted me to stick around and get "shit-faced" with the rest of the guys, I had to bow out and tell him another time. Tomorrow would be a hard day at the office and I knew I didn't need a hangover on top of all the other job pressures. Besides Janet was coming home this evening and I wanted to be there when she got home. Janet did not come home Sunday night. I left for work Monday morning with some serious doubts going on in my mind about the latest developments in my marriage. There had been a sense of impending doom whenever I thought deeply about the state of the relationship between Janet and myself. Sure there were rough patches in all marriages, but maybe our marriage had decayed into something more than just a rough patch. The work day was as hectic as I thought it would be when I left home in the morning. Several high level meetings and a harassment law suit brought against the company were high on my agenda. It wasn't till 5:30 when I had a chance to sit down and check my emails. There were a dozen emails from the staff along with the latest information on the law suit. Near the end of the list of emails was one that seemed to jump off the screen. It was titled. "Who is the last one to know?" As I opened the email, expecting some humorous animated cartoon, I was suddenly faced with a photo of Janet and another man engaged in a passionate embrace and a lip locked kiss. At the bottom of the photo was a text message which simply said, "Want to know what happened after this? Click on the NEXT link." A cold chill raced up my spine as I hesitated for a moment as I stared at the photo of Janet kissing another man. Then I clicked on the NEXT link. The screen flashed up another photo. This time Janet and the man she was kissing were both nude and standing together in a motel room. Again, at the bottom of the photo was a text message which simply said, "Want to know what happened after this? Click on the NEXT link." My hand was trembling, there was a tightness in my throat and chest as the nude image of my wife burned itself into my brain. There was a part of me that did not want to see the next photo, still I knew I had to click on the link. The next photo was the end of my marriage. Janet was on the bed on all fours with her pussy being impaled on the cock of the same man in the other two photos. There was an expression of lust and ecstasy on Janet's face as his cock was buried deep inside her pussy. The only woman I had ever completely loved was nothing but a cheating adulterous slut. I loved and trusted her with my whole heart. Now she was ripping that heart out of my chest. The text at the bottom of the photo simply said. "Cock provided by Robert Toldson". My worst nightmare had just been shoved in my face. There was no doubt that Janet's coldness toward me over these past couple of months was more than just a wife being irate at her husband. Her coldness was akin to the rigor mortis setting in to our dying marriage. What follows anger and rage? For me it was a calm resolve which I had not felt in a very long time. It was the resolve of revenge now settling into my mind. Infidelity and betrayal would not stand in my lifetime. There were two people who would pay deadly for the insult they knowingly heaped upon me. My first thoughts were about the person who sent the incriminating emails to me. There was no name or other indication where the emails were sent from. Questions kept banging around in my head. Why would someone send this email to me? What would they hope to gain from exposing my wife's infidelity? Were they friends of mine or enemies of Janet? I would have to work out that problem later. You Don't Fuck With JC I slipped a CD disk into my computer and made a copy of the email along with the three photos. Then I deleted the email and followed that with a scrubber program which erases all evidence of the email from my hard drive. As I sat back in my swivel chair trying to make sense of Janet's betrayal of our marriage. The only explanation I could come up with was to blame it on Janet's multiple personalities. Yet, if she wanted a divorce I would have given it to her and we both could have walked away from this train-wreck of a marriage. But now, my revenge would be swift and complete. I would take no prisoners nor give any mercy to either of them. The plan was beginning to gel inside my mind. I left the office building and went around the corner to a pay phone. The number I dialed was an untraceable pay-as-you-go cell phone. "Carmine, I think it's time for me to collect on that debt you owe me." When I got home around 7:30, Janet was already home and watching TV. She didn't get up and run over to hug and kiss me. She just looked up and simply said. "You're coming home late." "So were you." Was my simple reply as I moved into the kitchen area. Nothing else was said between the two of us. I took a beer out of the refrig and walked down the hall to the spare room I had converted into an office. I locked the door behind me. When a person is convicted of a capital crime in this country, there is usually one of two sentences the guilty person could receive. The death penalty or life in prison. In my revenge plan, there would be one death penalty and one life in prison sentence. I needed some quiet time to think through the rest of my revenge plan. Carmine would do his part in settling the score with Mr. Robert Toldson for me. Settling the score with Janet would be a personal effort on my part. I had to put everything in place to make the revenge seem to the police a simple matter of a wife running away from her loving husband. Over the next couple of days, I continued to send flowers to Janet's office for everyone to see that her loving husband still cared about her. I made reservations for dinner at a restaurant near the place where she worked. I left messages for her to meet me there for dinner. She never showed up. I told the matra 'd to give our table to someone else. I made sure he would remember me being stood up by my wife. Janet came home later that evening. No explanation, no reason for not showing up for our dinner reservation. The fact of the matter was I simply didn't care for anything she might have said in her defense. The die had been cast, the wheels of revenge were in motion. Later the next day, a courier came to my office and handed me a envelope marked 'Personal and Confidential'. In it was a single sheet of paper. The heading was in bold print. "Destroy After Reading". The first sentence simply said "Get an air tight alibi for tomorrow night." The second sentence had a name, Carlos Mandara, and a phone number. I read and re-read the phone number until I had it memorized. The sheet of paper was then sent through the paper shredder. I picked up the shredded pieces to take with me. They would be dropped is a number of different trash cans out side the office building. That evening I beat Janet home from work. I changed clothes, poured a tall Jim Beam and sat down to listen to some smooth jazz. The TV would not go on tonight. It was to be my night as King-of-my-Castle. Janet would have to find some way to entertain herself. There was no confrontation with Janet when she got home. She quickly sized up the scene and turned around and walked out the door again. I'm not sure where she was going, maybe out to eat, maybe out to meet Robert Toldson again. I could care less. The sand in the hour glass was almost empty for the two of them. I was in bed when Janet finally came home and slipped quietly into bed along side me. Silence was the loudest noise to be heard before I fell asleep. Thursday evenings are the usual poker night for several of the guys from work. I had joined in the game a couple of times just to keep in touch with the rumor mill that was always busy at the office. It's amazing what bits of information you can find when guys loosen up with a few drinks in them. The game was held in the back room of the Old Stagecoach bar. This was going to be my air tight alibi for the rest of the evening. This time it was me who slipped into bed early in the morning. The clock on my night stand read 2:35 as I pulled the covers over me. Not a sound or movement from Janet. It wasn't hard for me to fall asleep even though I knew what had taken place some time earlier that evening. ******************************** Now that Robert Toldson had been delivered his death penalty, it was now time to mete out the punishment to the second perpetrator. There didn't need to be any immediate action for the life-in-prison penalty. The fact that Janet's punishment would begin soon after I made a phone call gave me a sense of satisfaction and justice. Whatever it was in Janet's warped personalities which made her feel that she could blatantly disrespect me in the most hideous manner, was something for someone else to determine. I no longer felt any compassion toward the woman I once loved with all my heart and soul. The retribution which was about to fall on her was of her own making. The police interviewed every member of the staff at Calcus Realty Agency. They got several interesting but inconsistent statements from members of the staff. Janet was one of the people who the police interviewed more than once. A detective Lawrence Bacton stopped by the house that evening and questioned me about any knowledge I might have about Robert Toldson. I told the detective I had met Robert only once. That was at a Christmas party which Calcus held for all its employees and their spouses. Other than that one time, I had not seen or spoken to Mr. Toldson. The detective tried to bait several questions with the inference that Robert and Janet may have been more than just co-workers at the agency. I told him I had complete faith in my wife's faithfulness and I could not think of any reason to doubt her fidelity. He just smiled at me as if he were thinking me to be the poor sorry cuckold. The funeral for Robert Toldson was held on Tuesday. That morning, I saw Janet dressed in her solemn black dress, the same one she wore for my mother's funeral. She didn't ask me if I wanted to come with her to Robert's funeral. Whatever she was thinking concerning Robert's death she kept to herself. I'm sure she had a lot to think about including the murder and her infidelity. On several occasions during the next week, Janet seemed to want to start a serious discussion about our relationship. My cold shoulder toward her quickly brought her attempts to an immediate halt. I was beyond any form of reconciliation or kiss and make up. I had my finger on the button, I could push it anytime I chose to end the charade. Three weeks after Robert's murder, the police investigation seemed to peter out. The police could find no new leads. Someone indicated there was the possibility Robert might have been murdered by a loan shark or a bookie. During those three weeks, Janet's mental state continued to deteriorate. She seemed to be more absent minded and confused. Little things seemed to frighten her. I offered no aid or comfort to her even though I could see she was having a difficult time. Too bad slut, I would think to myself as I watched her slowly falling apart. Finally, on the following Thursday, I made the phone call to Carlos. He already had the plan in place and was anxious to get it under way. Janet had only hours before her "new life" would begin. Friday morning I was off to work before Janet was dressed. I did not want to see her this last time in my house. The sand in the hour glass was empty. A car with two men in it was parked across the street from our house. The kidnapping occurred at an intersection where there was a 4-way stop sign. A car in front and back of Janet's car blocked any attempt for her to drive away. With the precision of a Delta Force team, two men moved into action. As soon as the driver's door was opened, a needle was stuck into her arm as the seat belt was cut away from her body. Janet was pushed into the passenger seat as one of the men got in behind the steering wheel. The three vehicles drove off quickly. The total elapsed time was less than 30 seconds. There were no witnesses. At 11:00 that morning, in a branch bank located on the east side of town, a woman dressed and made to look exactly like Janet walked into the bank and handed the teller a withdrawal slip for $25,000 from our joint account. The lady had a driver's license and passport as proof of identity. It took several minutes for the teller to get the withdrawal in the form of a cashier's check. A guard escorted the woman out to her car. He noted the license plate as the woman drove out of the parking lot. The line of passengers at the American Airlines ticket counter was not very long as the Janet look-alike made her way to the smiling clerk behind the counter. She picked up the boarding pass after showing the clerk her photo ID and passport. The flight reservations had been made on-line the night before. The first leg of the trip was to JFK airport and then a non-stop on flight #951 to Rio de Janeiro. Her flight left Pittsburgh at 4:45 in the afternoon for JFK New York. Then, at 10:30 that evening the American Airlines plane lifted off the runway taking the passenger Janet Cannela on an overnight flight to Brazil. I waited till noon on Saturday before I called the police to report a missing person. Surprisingly, detective Lawrence Bacton was the officer who came to the house to take the report. I told him Janet had not come home at her usual time. I tried to call her on her cell phone but the I got the not-in-service notification. I called Amanda Stokada, one of Janet's close friends at Calcus Realty. Amanda told me Janet had not come to work yesterday. She didn't even call in to report off. Detective Bacton was make some cryptic notes in his little note pad. Every now and then he would look up at me. He finally began to ask questions about my marriage. Were we having problems and did they have anything to do with Janet's disappearance. I told him the same thing I said when he question me after Robert Toldson's murder. Our marriage was fine and I could not think of any reason why Janet would voluntarily disappear. He then ask me if I had anything to do with foul play involving Janet. Again, I told him I loved my wife and I could not harm her. Lying to the police was an actor's trait which I developed at a very early age running with the Junior Mafia. It still worked well for me. It was three days later when Detective Bacton came to my office during business hours. I guess he wanted to personally gauge the husband he was dealing with. After being ushered into my office, he sat down and gave me a tight lipped smile. "Do you have any news concerning Janet's whereabouts?" I wore my distressed husband's face as I question him. "Yes and no, Mr. Cannela. We did some retracing of Janet's activities after she left your house on Friday morning. Several people claim they saw her having coffee at the Denny's restaurant on Bennett street around 10:00 on Friday morning. She then showed up at the Allegheny National Bank around 11:00. We have a video surveillance tape of her at a cashier's window making a $25,000 withdrawal out of your joint saving account." Dt. Bacton stopped to assess the shocked expression on my face. My acting must have passed the test as I asked in shocked amazement. "Janet took $25,000 out of our savings account?!? .... That's not possible. She didn't tell me anything about her wanting to withdraw any money from our savings." "The facts are pretty clear. The cashier made photo copies of Janet's driver's license and her passport before she made out the cashier's check. I'm sure that once you see the surveillance tape, you'll be able to identify the person at the cashier's window as your wife Janet." Once again Dt. Bacton stopped to gage my reactions to his disclosure. "I still think there must be some mistake detective. Janet and I talked about everything that's happening in our marriage. I'm sure she would have told me if she needed a large sum of money." My bewildered look backed up my words as I stared back at the police detective. I knew the detective was holding on to the most devastating news till last. I had to prepare myself for another acting encore. "The most disturbing news, Mr. Cannela is the fact that your wife purchased airline tickets to New York and on to Rio de Janeiro. We located her car in the long term parking lot at the airport. Her flight left Pittsburgh Friday afternoon at 4:45 and then her flight to Rio left New York at 10:30. We contacted the Rio de Janeiro police in hopes of locating Janet. She seems to have vanished once she arrived in Rio." Dt. Bacton was now staring hard at me waiting for my reaction. "No...no...this is craziness!" I shouted at him. "Janet would never do anything like that! I know she loves me and I love her. Leaving the country is nonsense!" Lay it on, John. I was telling myself as I acted out the betrayed husband script for the detective. I began to cry right in front of the detective. There was silence in my office for a minute or so before the detective started talking again. "Do you think this has anything to do with the murder of Robert Toldson?" "What?!? How do even dare to ask that question? My wife had nothing to do with that murder. You interviewed her yourself. She was never charged with anything connected with that case!" "We never charged your wife, Mr. Cannela, but she was high on our suspect list. Several other people we interviewed told us they suspected your wife and Mr. Toldson were lovers." His eyes seemed to be boring holes into my head. "You got to be kidding! First, you give me all this shit about my wife leaving the country, then this accusation she was involved with the Toldson murder! You better have more proof than some office gossip to back that up!" My eyes were boring holes into his head. "We're still working that case, Mr. Cannela. Now that your wife has fled the country, our suspicions about her involvement in the murder has increased." He paused for a long second. "There was evidence at the crime scene that the murder was more than just a mob hit for money. The attack on Toldson's body indicated there was a sexual angle to the murder. Toldson was tortured and beaten for several hours before he was strangled. Prior to the strangulation, he was castrated. We found his penis and testicles shoved in his mouth." I made a small laughing sound as I responded. "And you think my petite wife did all that? She can hardly open a pickle jar let alone strangle anyone. Your accusations seem to be getting more ridiculous every time you open your mouth." I wanted to sound like I was getting pissed at Dt. Bacton. "Maybe so, Mr. Cannela. But, all the evidence so far points to your wife's involvement. She may have had someone else helping her." He paused, wet his lips. "And you think I was that other person?!?" I shot back at him before he said another word. "We thought you might have been involved, but you had a solid alibi for the time of the murder." His voice was not convincing. "OK, let me get this straight. You come here today, tell me you haven't found my wife but you believe she left the country because she was involved in a murder. You also implied that I was a likely suspect in helping her with that murder." I paused as shot a glaring look directly at him. "Now, did I get all of that correct...detective?!?" He just sat there, looking back at me trying to determine if my indignation was just false bravado. "Is there anything else, detective?" I said with a hint of scorn in my voice. "If not, then this meeting is over." I stood up from behind my desk and moved toward the closed door. I opened the door to indicate it was time for him to leave. Dt. Bacton got up from his chair and moved slowly to the door. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Cannela. I'll keep you informed about your wife's disappearance." He didn't extend his hand, I didn't offer mine. I closed the door after the detective left and settled back in my swivel chair. I was sure Dt. Bacton's visit was intended to find out more information than to give me any substantial information about the two cases. I slowly mulled over every statement he made and every question he asked. It was certain he felt I may have been involved in either or both of the cases he was handling. Yet, my alibis were solid. I was playing poker on the Thursday night Robert Toldson was murdered. And I was in meetings all day last Friday when Janet went missing. It was Saturday morning. Two weeks after Janet's disappearance. I had heard nothing from either Carlos or Carmine. I had no idea where Janet was or what was happening to her over these past two weeks. There were several times when I got the distinct feeling I was being followed when I went to work in the morning and when I came home at night. My movements were very carefully planned. To work, back to home and some grocery shopping on the way home. Nothing which could be taken as an evasive move or the actions of someone trying to hide something. I called Dt. Bacton every other day to inquire about my missing wife. He had nothing new to report. The Brazilian police had not found any evidence of Janet after her arrival in Rio. I called Domino's for a pizza that afternoon as I sat around watching some college football on TV. The door bell rang and the pizza delivery guy was standing there with my hot pizza. I paid him and gave him a couple of bucks for a tip. As I opened the pizza box in the kitchen, there was an envelope sitting on top of the pizza. I opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper. "Tomorrow morning dress for church. Go to the 10:00 Mass at St. Peter's. During communion, slip out the side door on the east side of the church. There will be a dark Ford Crown Victoria waiting outside. Get in." I held the sheet of paper in my hand knowing this was to be a last meeting with Janet before Carlos shipped her out of the country. He had waited the two weeks to insure the cover plan of Janet flying out of the country was well documented and it was all the evidence the police had to work on. It was an elaborate deception set up by Carlos to send the investigation in the wrong direction. It also established the fact that Janet was alive when she boarded the plane to Rio. That way the police could not try to make a circumstantial case of me doing away with Janet even though there was no body to be found. The bedroom was pitch black as I stared up at the ceiling. This past month and a half had been a living nightmare for me. After receiving that email, the chain of events which occurred reminded me that my ancestral roots would always bring out a dark side of my personality whenever I was disrespected by anyone. "Nature or Nurture" There was no doubt in my mind where my dark side came from. St. Peter's is a very large church. The 10:00 Mass is highly attended by several hundred parishioners. It was easy to get lost in that crowd and to spot if anyone was following me. If the police had a tail on me, they must have waited outside the church. As the throng of people moved to the front of the church for communion, I quickly slipped out the side door. The dark Ford sedan was waiting with the motor running. I got into the back seat as the car roared off into the busy street. The trip took about ten minutes before the big sedan pulled up in front of a large warehouse building. The driver never turned around, he just told me to enter the building through the side door. You Don't Fuck With JC The inside of the large building was very empty. Near the back was a office area with light coming from several windows. As I approached the office area, Carlos stepped out and walked toward me. This was my first face-to-face meeting with Carlos. "Hello JC..." He paused and smiled. "Carmine told me it would be alright to call you JC." His hand was extended, we shook. "Are you sure you want to see your wife again? These last several weeks haven't been very nice for her." Carlos wore his stone face. His words were a warning that I might get upset when I saw Janet this time. "I'm past caring what she looks like or what she has gone through since you took her." I started to walk toward the open door. "Is she on drugs now?" I asked as I stopped at the door. "No. but, I'm sure she wishes she were. I've kept her clean and very conscious all the time. She is now a broken woman and well trained for her new life." We both stepped into the well lighted room. In the middle of the room was Janet. She was totally naked. Her arms were extended over her head. Her wrists were bound together and attached to a chain which came down from the ceiling. Her legs were spread apart and held in place with a spreader bar. She did not acknowledge my presence as she stood there immobilized. I walked over to where she was chained. Her dull empty eyes were fixed straight ahead as I moved next to her nude body. She made no sounds. I said nothing to her. As I inspected her nude body, the first thing that caught my attention were her body piercings. Both nipples had been pierced and gold rings inserted. There was a thin gold chain which connected both nipple rings. Her navel had several piercings, one of which was also connected by a thin gold chain to a gold clit ring. There was something very erotic about seeing Janet adorned with gold rings and chains. Still, as erotic as they were, there was a very sinister meaning behind them. I moved slowly around her stretched out body. I could see faint traces of red marks covering much of her back. No doubt she had been whipped fiercely when she was first taken by Carols' men. My eyes stopped transversing her naked back when I spotted the fresh brand mark on her lower back. The brand appeared to be a coiled snake about four inches in diameter. "Her new owner insisted she be branded with his mark before she is shipped to him." Carlos paused and then added. "You really don't want to know his name." "She hasn't said anything to me since I came into the room. Have you done something with her tongue?" I asked Carlos in a low voice as I moved to her other side. He smiled at me and replied. "We have pierced her tongue also. But the reason she hasn't said anything to you is because I forbade her to speak unless I give her my permission. If she did speak without my permission she would be severely punished. She already knows what that punishment is like." He took a deep breath and finished his comment. "I told you, she is a broken woman. She has no will of her own. She does any and everything I tell her without hesitation." I walked around her and stood directly in front of her. We were within inches of each other's body. Still she said nothing. Her gaze was directly over my shoulder. Her eyes no longer had the sparkle and vitality in them. "For the rest of your life, Janet you will remember that you brought all of this misery down upon yourself. I put up with all of your mood swings and your cold attitude toward me. But, I could not tolerate your infidelity. For the disrespect and cuckolding you and your lover heaped upon me, you will now spend the rest of your life paying your adultery. Robert has already paid his debt to me." My words were spoken slowly and distinctly as I looked into her tortured face. I wanted her to know that it was me who brought her and her lover to justice. "As much as I once loved you, I want you to know that is as much as I loath you now. Carlos has assured me that where you're being sent they will take good care of you. As good a care as they provide for their best horses and cattle." I stood there another second as I could see a tear forming in Janet's eye. It was all the acknowledgment that I received from her. Her body remained in her rigid position as I turned and walked out of the room. The Ford sedan returned me to St. Peter's where I went inside as the 11:00 Mass was just ending. I left the church and drove out of the parking lot straight home. There was a hard knot inside my gut that needed to be drowned with some Jim Beam. * Epilogue: It's been three years since the last time I saw Janet. I have almost forgotten her completely. There are no traces of her in my life any more. I even sold the house we were living in at the time of her "disappearance". Both of Dt. Bacton's cases have been moved to the Cold Case file. I do spend more time with Carmine at the Sweet Pussycat lounge. I have sampled all the offerings of that sweet young stripper on more than one occasion. Marriage for me is out of the question. My five years with Janet were enough to convince me that women are more trouble then they are worth once you marry them. My parents were right about regretting my involvement with Janet. Someone once told me that children should listen to the advice from their parents. Children rarely do listen. P.S. I later found out that it was Amanda Stokada who sent me the email. It seems she was Robert Toldson's lover before he dumped her for Janet. I never thanked her for the email, nor did I ever find out how she obtained those photos of Robert and Janet. I guess she got her revenge the same time I did. There is something written about the wrath of a woman scorned. It might be wise to add to that writing that you don't fuck with JC. Fini. Please take the time to let me know your thoughts and comments about my story. JC was a character completely different than the "Paul" character in the first story I submitted to Literotica. Also, as you may have noticed, I submitted the complete story this time. I told you I can learn from your comments and criticisms. LOL.