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Eenie, Meenie, Miney...

By: FrancisMacomber



Rachel Madison

The prison guard came into the infirmary and closed the door behind him. Rachel smiled at him and he shyly looked away. Rachel knew he had a bit of a crush on her; most of the guards did, if for no other reason than there were few attractive women working at the Western Correctional Center.

He cleared his throat. "I got a patient here to see you," he said. Then his face took on a concerned expression. "He's new at the center, and he has a reputation as a bit of a gangbanger. Do you want me to stay with him while you see him?" he asked a bit eagerly.

Rachel smiled again. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I know how to handle his type."

"Whatever you say, Nurse Madison," he said, and departed. A minute later he was back, this time accompanied by a Latino wearing prison garb and carrying a folder. "Sit down," the guard ordered roughly, "and don't give Nurse Madison any trouble or you'll be dealing with me, comprende?"

The prisoner ignored him, choosing to focus on the nurse in front of him.

After the guard had left, Rachel locked the door, then took the folder from the youth and quickly scanned it. "This says that your name is Hector Hernandez and that you're nineteen years old. Is that correct?"

Hernandez gave her a long slow look. "Si, pretty lady."

Rachel ignored his stare and his impertinence. "I'm Nurse Madison, and I'll be monitoring your health while you're here at Western." She proceeded to ask the young man a series of questions relating to his medical history. Hernandez mumbled his answers, obviously paying more attention to the nurse's figure than her questions.

"This says you have juvenile diabetes and that you take insulin every day. Is that correct, Hector?" When he nodded she continued, "Very well, let's get that taken care of right now." She went to the small refrigerator and returned with a syringe. "Please lift up the bottom of your shirt so I can get to your waist."

"Si, Corazon. Or I could take it off so you could see my whole chest. . ."

"That won't be necessary," she said, and swiftly gave him the insulin injection. When she had disposed of the needle, she turned around and crossed her arms, allowing her face to slip into a stern expression. "Mr. Hernandez, you're going to have to adjust your attitude if you want to get along here at Western. I am not your sweetheart, I'm a registered nurse. You will address me as Nurse Madison and you will show me respect in all ways, do you understand?"

He grinned insolently at her. "You can take care of me, but I could take even better care of you if you'd let me. I am very good at making the chicas happy, you know what I mean?" With that, he stuck his tongue out and licked his lips lasciviously.

To his surprise, the nurse gave him a tight grin. "Mr. Hernandez, I just gave you a shot of insulin. Are you sure it was the correct dosage? Are you sure it was even insulin?"

The smile disappeared from Hector's lips.

"What happens the next time you have a headache and want some aspirin?" Rachel continued. "Or what about when it's time for your flu shot? What if I fail to void all the air out of the hypodermic? Do you know what happens when a large air bubble hits your heart?"

The prisoner's expression had grown sullen, and he took a step back from Rachel.

Now the nurse leaned toward him, her face twisted with anger and something else he couldn't read. "I can fuck up your life so fast and in so many ways you can't imagine. So if you don't want to become just another sad tale about a prisoner who died here at the prison, I suggest you treat me with total respect. Do you understand?"

The youth wouldn't look at her. "Si, Senora" he said.

"In English," she demanded.

"Yes," he said.

"Yes, what?" she pressed.

He looked up at her in confusion, then let his head fall as comprehension came. "Yes, ma'am. Yes, Nurse Madison."

A triumphant smile swept over her face. "Very well then, Mr. Hernandez. Now why don't you ask the guard to escort you back to your cell so I can do my paperwork?"

When the guard came to retrieve the prisoner, he paused to ask, "Did everything go okay, Nurse Madison?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, yes, he was a perfect gentleman. He did everything I wanted - they always do."

Tom Maddux

There was a noise outside his cubicle, and Tom automatically tensed as Harry Williams came barging in. Tom hated noise, he hated interruptions, and most of all he hated Harry, who was everything Tom wasn't. Where Tom was quiet and thoughtful, Harry was an extrovert who reminded Tom of the proverbial bull in the china shop. Where Tom was a team player who strove for consensus, Harry was a natural leader whom others seemed to follow instinctively. Worst of all, where Harry's career seemed to be on the rise, Tom feared that his own had stalled and topped out.

As Harry rattled on good-naturedly about the latest office gossip, Tom felt as though he were under siege, yet there seemed no way to get the big loudmouth out of his office without being rude, something Tom was loathe to do. 

Just then, Harry reached across the desk and grabbed Tom's framed picture of Cecilia and himself at their wedding reception. "Is that your wife?" Harry boomed. "She's a knockout. You sure were punching above your weight when you landed her!" he exclaimed. 

"Give that back!" Tom yelled and snatched the frame from Harry's hands. "Leave that alone!" Harry was so shocked at Tom's reaction that he backpedaled out the door, mumbling something about an appointment.

Tom slumped back down in his chair, still holding the wedding photo in his hands. He felt ashamed at his outburst, and he felt even worse about the stab of jealousy that had shot through him, causing him to lose control. The truth was that in his heart of hearts Tom felt Harry was right: Cece was indeed out of his league. When he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he had never expected her to accept his proposal. But she'd surprised him, and he'd thought himself the luckiest man in the world at the time. He'd never considered that the price for having such an attractive wife was the constant gnawing fear that filled him every time another man looked at her. He believed his wife was faithful, but that didn't turn off the pangs of jealousy. Sometimes he thought it would drive him crazy.

Vincent Madison

Vince liked to think of his workday as having two halves: outside and inside. In the morning he roamed the halls of John F. Kennedy Junior High School, greeting students at the door as they straggled in, dropping by classrooms to see and be seen, roaming the halls between classes to help ensure order and even helping out in the cafeteria. He spent the afternoons mostly working in his office. There he reviewed his mail, attended to the ever-present paperwork, met with parents and held conferences with any teachers or students as needed.

He'd been following this routine ever since he came to JFK Junior High and it suited him like a glove. It also seemed to suit the faculty and parents: they consistently gave Vince high ratings in his evaluations. In fact, his ratings were so good that the word on the street suggested that Vince's next position might be a significant step up in the educational administration.

In the middle of the Friday afternoon before Spring Break, he stepped out from behind the massive desk in his office and stuck his head out the doorway. Spying his secretary at her desk, he asked, "What else have we got on the schedule this afternoon, Mary?" The older woman had to move her paperwork aside to check her desktop calendar; she refused to keep appointments on the computer. 

"The rest of the afternoon is pretty clear. Your only appointment is with Mrs. Maddux - you asked her to see you before she left for the day," his secretary reminded him.

"Sounds good," he said casually. "Listen, Mary, if you want to knock off a little early to get started on Spring Break, its fine by me."

"Thank you, Mr. Madison, I think I'll take you up on that. I've been wanting to get started on my garden."

Cece Maddux

Cece loved teaching sixth grade. The boys and girls were rapidly advancing toward their teenage years but they were still youngsters in so many ways. Most had not yet begun to adopt that sullen demeanor that characterizes teenaged relations with adults; instead, they were eager to learn, still eager to please their teacher.

Of course, she thought, some of the girls were developing physically more quickly than others, and some of the boys were beginning to notice. She had already sent notes home to some parents to suggest purchasing bras for their daughters, and she had had to speak with one her students in private about sitting at her desk a bit more modestly while wearing a skirt.

As usual, the boys in her class lagged behind the girls, particularly in their emotional development. But it always intrigued Cece to watch their attitudes toward their female classmates begin to change as the year went on. She bet that quite a few of them would actually ask one of the girls to go to the Spring dance rather than go stag and stand against the walls all evening.

As she hurried down the hall to Principal Madison's office, she felt a twinge of excitement, and she observed to herself that sixth graders weren't the only ones feeling new and unexpected emotions.

When she reached the principal's office, she noticed that Mr. Madison's secretary had already left for the day. She heard him speak to her and saw him motion to her to come in. "Close the door, please, Mrs. Maddux," he said, and when she turned back after having done so, suddenly he was standing right there. Then his arms were around her, urgently crushing her body to his, and his lips were devouring hers. After a few moments they slid down her face and began to rain kisses on her ear, her neck and her shoulder. Only then did she realize that she was panting.

Finally he pulled back far enough to stare at her. "God, Cece, I thought the day would never be over!" Then he was kissing her again until she realized that she was about to lose control. Frantically she pushed at him until he stopped his onslaught. "No, Vince, stop! We can't do this here - there are still people in the building. Besides, we've got all next week together at the education convention."

Reluctantly he let her go and stepped back to perch on the corner of his desk. "You're right," he said, "but that doesn't make it any easier. I've been thinking about you ever since the last time . . ."

She blushed. "I know - I haven't been able to get you off my mind either." Then, when she saw him stand up and move toward her again, she hastened on. "But we have to be patient and wait. If anyone here saw or heard anything, you know what that would mean. And what if something got back to Tom or Rachel?"

An involuntary shudder went through him at the mention of their spouses. "Oh, God, don't even talk about that. It would be so bad . . ." Then he shook his head and his face took on a look of determination. "Alright, I can be good for now, but that just means you're really in for it when I get you alone in the convention hotel."

Cece felt a thrill run through her and suddenly realized her panties were wet. Nevertheless, she forced herself to maintain control. "Now, go home to your wife and be extra sweet to her so she won't get suspicious," she told him. Then an impish look crossed her face. "Now, here's a little something so you won't entirely forget about me while you're with her." With that she stepped over and kissed him again, and this time it would have been apparent to an observer that there was more than lust involved.

Vince

When Vince walked into the den on Saturday evening, he spotted he wife staring out the window, her arms crossed. "What is it?" he asked, but she didn't reply. He walked over to her and asked, "Is everything okay, Rachel?"

"No," she replied in a tearful voice.

"What is it?" he asked in concern. "What's happened?"

She turned to him and he could see her eyes were red and swollen. "It's my sister," she said in a choked voice. "She just called me - she's had a relapse."

Vince gave a mental sigh and led his wife over to the couch to comfort her. Rachel's sister was a lost soul: she'd dropped out of college when her parents' marriage had ended, and had slipped into depression, drugs and alcohol. Rachel and Vince had tried numerous times to get her into a treatment program, but Megan never completed even one of them. It was as though her parent's divorce had broken something in Megan that couldn't be repaired. For the last few years she'd been living on the streets.

"What did she want this time?" he asked.

"Money, of course," Rachel said, her head bowed.

"You can't send her any," he said quickly. "You know what the doctor said."

"I know: we shouldn't enable her. But it just tears me up to hear the suffering in her voice. I wish I could do something to fix her."

Vince put his arm around his wife. "Of course, but nothing we do will help until she reaches the point where she can admit that she has a problem and is willing to do something about it on her own."

Suddenly Rachel looked up at Vince and her eyes were wild. "You know what the worst thing is? I'm afraid that whatever is wrong with Megan is inside me too, just waiting for something to set it off."

"No, Rachel, don't think that way. You're not like her. She has a disease, a mental illness - you don't! You're a strong, capable woman. You've got to remember that."

His wife just sat there, crying quietly into her hands.

Vince searched desperately for something to get her mind off her sister's plight. "Listen, why don't we go out and get some dinner somewhere. It's so nice maybe we could find a place where we could eat on a terrace."

Rachel quickly shook her head. "I'm not very hungry, Vince. I think I'll just go lie down. Can you take care of your own dinner?"

When she had left the room, Vince shook his head in frustration. He felt sorry for Megan, of course, but in his mind she was a lost cause. Nevertheless, she could still devastate her sister just by the sound of her voice alone. "I wish I could keep her away from Rachel somehow."

As he thought about his prospects for the evening, Vince had mixed emotions. He'd planned on making love to Rachel to reassure her in advance of his departure tomorrow for the education convention. But he knew that Rachel was now unlikely to get out of bed before morning, and he also knew from past experience that she'd be in a depressed state when she arose. The good news for him was that he wouldn't feel so guilty pretending she was Cece while they made love. The bad news was that his session with Cece that afternoon had really stoked his fires, and he'd been hoping to get a little sexual relief.

"Damn, what a time for Megan to call," he thought as he fished out his cellphone to place a take-out order for some dinner.

Cece

"I really wish you wouldn't go to that convention," Tom said as Cece was brushing her teeth. "It'll be a whole week and you won't know anybody there."

A finger of fear ran down her spine, and she hastily rinsed out her mouth so she could speak. "We've been over this time and time again, honey," she said soothingly. "This is a great chance for me to meet a lot of people and learn what's going on in other school systems. It'll be really good for my professional development."

"I know," he whined, "but a whole week . . ."

She assumed a tone of mock exasperation. "You travel all the time for your work, honey."

"Yes, but that's not the same. And anyway, I'm going to be lonely while you're gone."

Cece knew that what he didn't want to admit was that he was jealous of the men she was likely to meet at the convention and how she might respond to them. "He won't have to worry about me being seduced by some strange man," she thought to herself.

But Tom's jealous nature was not something Cece wanted to grow out of hand, and she knew just how to divert him. In a sultry tone of voice, she asked, "Will you really be all lonely for me while I'm gone, baby?"

When he nodded, she slowly began to raise her nightgown, pulling it over her head until she was standing before him in nothing but her bikini panties. "Is this what you're going to be lonely for, baby?"

When he eagerly nodded again, she walked across the bedroom like a model on a catwalk until she stood between his knees. She smiled at him suggestively, then crouched down until she was kneeling at his feet. "I guess I better give you something to tide you over till I get back," she husked, and then reached into the fly of his pajamas. In a moment she had extracted his rapidly hardening cock and brought it to her lips. At the first touch of her tongue, Tom's head fell back and his eyes closed in ecstasy. "Oh, yes!" he groaned.

Cece quickly shifted into full blowjob mode, lavishing his cock with her lips and tongue while simultaneously using her circled fingers to stroke him up and down. In no time at all she could taste his precum.

Tom's groans grew more frequent. After a few minutes he reached down and tried to pull her up onto the bed beside him. "That's so good, Cece, but I want to make you feel good too," he gasped.

To his surprise she resisted, pushing on his chest until he flopped back on the bed. "Not this time. This is all about you tonight, a little special treatment for my baby before his wife goes out of town." With that she plunged her mouth down until his cock was pressing against the back of her throat. When she swallowed, Tom cried out as though the top of his head would explode.

Quickly Cece pulled back and began licking and kissing the head while using both her hands to stroke the rest of his slippery cock. In short order Tom could no longer resist the sensations she was producing. His hips began to buck repeatedly as he shot load after load of his orgasm into his wife's mouth.

As he lay on the bed gasping for air, Cece put her head down beside his hip for a moment and held him. Then she stood up quickly, smiled at him and hurried to the bathroom to spit out his ejaculate and brush her teeth again. By the time she returned to their bed, he was almost asleep, a smile on his lips. "Mission accomplished," she thought with satisfaction as she turned out the light.

When Cece awoke on Sunday morning, she rolled over to look at the bedside clock and saw that it was only 5:30 a.m. She wanted to sleep another hour but she was way too excited to go back to bed. Instead, she slipped downstairs and began to make breakfast. She went ahead and ate hers while setting Tom's aside so it would stay warm. Her plan was to wait until he was having his breakfast to pack her bags. She had made a special purchase earlier in the week that she would prefer Tom not see.

The smell of bacon must have made its way to the second floor because Tom appeared in the doorway just as Cece was finishing her meal. "You're up early," he observed. "You must really be eager to get off to the convention."

Inwardly, Cece groaned, hoping her husband wouldn't resume his complaining, but outwardly she smiled as she got up to hug him. "I really don't know why I woke up so early, baby." She gave him a knowing smile. "Maybe it was that big injection of vitamins you gave me last night."

Her response clearly pleased Tom, and his normal good humor returned as Cece scrambled to serve him his breakfast. She sat with him for a minute, finishing her coffee, then rose nonchalantly. "As long as I'm up, I might as well go pack and get my shower," she said casually, and then headed for the stairs, trying not to hurry.

Once in the bedroom she hurriedly packed her bags, being careful to put her special purchase in the bottom of her make-up bag where Tom would be unlikely to find it if he went looking. Once she had finished she laid out a modest outfit to wear on the drive to the convention. On top of her skirt and blouse she placed a pair of granny panties and a heavy white bra. "Those ought to calm his suspicions," she thought with satisfaction.


Eenie, Meenie, Miney...



Having finished her packing, she slipped into the shower and scrubbed herself thoroughly because she wanted to be completely clean for Vince. As she washed her vagina, she was surprised to discover how sensitive her clitoris was. It took all her willpower not to continue rubbing her soapy fingers over the little nubbin hidden between her pussy lips. "Save it for later," she told herself firmly.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was not surprised to find that Tom had opened her suitcase and was rummaging through the contents. "What are you doing?" she asked sharply, even though she knew the answer.

Tom was embarrassed at being caught. "I, uh, well, I just wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything, that's all." The lie sounded lame even to him.

Mentally Cece congratulated herself on her foresight in hiding her surprise, but she didn't want to let her nosy husband get away with snooping. "Tom, honestly, sometimes I don't know what to make of you. I've been packing my own luggage since I was a teenager; I'm pretty sure I haven't forgotten how. Now if you'll quit pawing through my underwear and give me a little privacy, I'll get dressed."

In his dismay at being caught, Tom was glad to get away from the scene of the crime, and he scurried out the door. Cece had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at his embarrassment. "Serves him right," she thought to herself as she went back into the bathroom to retrieve her make-up case.

That afternoon when it was time for her to leave, Tom made one more halfhearted attempt to dissuade Cece. "I really wish you weren't going, Cece," he said as he walked with her to the car. 

By now Cece had no patience left. "We've already been through all that," she told him sternly. "Now give me a kiss and let me get on my way." He did so reluctantly.

When she got behind the wheel, she rolled the window down and shook her finger at him like the schoolteacher she was. "Now you be good while I'm gone, Tom Maddux. No wild parties or wild women, you understand?"

He gave her a weak smile. "You too, sweetheart. Don't get into any trouble up there."

She laughed. "You don't need to worry: there'll be nobody there but a bunch of teachers like me." With that she pulled out of the driveway and headed off toward the interstate as Tom waved goodbye.

When his image had disappeared from the rearview mirror, Cece reached into her purse and pulled out her cellphone. She didn't like the idea of texting and driving, but Tom hadn't given her a moment's peace; even now she didn't dare pull over to send Vince a message. "It would be just like Tom to follow me to make sure I'm headed in the right direction."

With that she awkwardly tapped out a message to Vince with the thumb of her right hand, all the while trying to keep her eyes on the road ahead.



Eenie, Meenie, Miney...



Tom drew back in surprise. "Me? But I haven't done anything," he protested.

"That's right, you haven't done one fucking thing. If you'd kept that slut of yours in line, none of this would have ever happened!"

"Now wait a minute, Rachel. Cece isn't a slut . . ."

"You're defending her?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"Yes - I mean no - I mean . . ."

"You're pathetic!" Rachel screamed at him. "I'll bet everyone where you work is laughing at you behind your back. Before I'm done, the whole town will know what a pathetic cuckold you are. You won't dare show your face. You'll die too, a living death!"

Her venom and anger struck straight to the heart of Tom's feelings of inadequacy, and he recoiled as though she'd hit him with a club.

"You're crazy! None of this is my fault. It was your husband who started all this," he yelled defensively.

She began to laugh in a way that frightened Tom. "My God, she really is crazy," he thought. "There's no telling what she might do!" Hastily he grabbed up the photos and backed away from her until he reached the front door. Then he turned and made a dash for his car. As he drove away, he thought he could still hear Rachel laughing.

When he got back home, Tom was deeply shaken by Rachel's reaction. "I knew she'd be upset, but I never imagined she'd go off the handle that way. There's no telling what she might do now."

A terrifying thought struck him. "What if she knows some of the people at my office? If she starts spreading rumors, I'll never be able to keep working there." He could just picture that obnoxious Harry Williams and what his reaction would be. "He'd never let me hear the end of it," Tom thought. "I've got to do something - but what?"

Finally he decided that the best thing to do was to try to reach Cece and Vince and get them back here as soon as possible. "She's his wife - it's up to him to handle her. And if she goes crazy on him, well, he deserves whatever he gets."

He picked up his cellphone and dialed Cece's phone again, only to get the out-of-service message. Impatiently he waited until her voicemail came on, then left an angry message: "Cece, you and Vince better get back home right away if you don't want more trouble than you're already in. I have pictures of you two, and Rachel knows everything as well. Call me back and let me know you got this message, you cheating bitch!"

When he had finished he went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed the whiskey and returned to the sofa. As he drank from the bottle, his mind kept replaying his encounter with Rachel. The more he thought about it the more fearful he became about what revenge she might take against him. "And I didn't do anything," he thought pathetically.

When he woke up the next morning he had a raging hangover, and he decided to call in sick. But then he began to worry that someone might have overheard him in the conference room. "I have to go in to show them all I'm fine," he thought. After a shower and a breakfast that consisted mostly of aspirin, he somehow managed to get into work.

He was relieved to discover that no one treated him any differently, but that relief was offset by the fact that Cece hadn't returned his call. He wished he had Vince's number, but the only way he knew to get it was to call Rachel, and that was to be avoided at all costs. He thought about calling the convention office, but didn't want to risk starting rumors by leaving an urgent message. He felt boxed in.

When he got home that evening, he found that he'd left the house a mess. There were cushions on the floor and clothing draped over the furniture, and he stumbled over the whiskey bottle as he began to straighten up. He'd even left the kitchen door unlocked when he'd left that morning. "I didn't notice any of this when I left. I must still have been a little drunk," he thought ruefully.

He started to clean up the house, but stopped to make another call to Cece. When he again reached her voicemail, he hung up angrily. "She's obviously ignoring me," he thought. "Well, it doesn't matter if she comes home now or fucks him until the convention is over. All she's doing is postponing the inevitable. Either way, I'm calling a lawyer tomorrow."

Cece

Cece was almost embarrassed. "It's a good thing I don't know anyone here at the convention," she thought. "The way I've been hanging on Vince would make anyone realize something was going on."

Indeed many people had noticed the obvious emotion flowing between the two of them, and several had remarked "what a cute couple they made." Cece fluttered between uneasiness and excitement as she clung to her handsome paramour's arm. "I wish we didn't have to go home at the end of the week," she'd whispered to him several times.

On Thursday evening one of the major textbook companies held a dinner-dance for the attendees, and Cece and Vince enjoyed it thoroughly, dancing until they were too tired to go on, then returning to their table to have more complimentary cocktails. By the time the event ended, both of them were more than a little intoxicated, and that made them even more amorous when they returned to Cece's room. 

But when Vince reached for her, Cece dodged clumsily out of his reach. "Wait, Tom," she said somewhat breathlessly. "I've been saving something special for you. Let me go change."

As he lolled on the bed, she ducked into the bathroom, taking her make-up case with her. She'd been keeping the baby-doll set she'd picked up at Victoria's Secret in reserve, and now was the perfect time to bring it out. The top was sheer and black with red embellishments over her pert breasts; the panties were just a thong made of see-through black lace. She started to take off her heels, but decided at the last minute to leave them on because they made her calves look so good.

As she was finishing, she noticed that her purse had tipped over and spilled out her cellphone. When she picked it up, she was shocked to see that it was turned off. "Oh my goodness," she thought, "it's been turned off the whole time I've been here. I've been having so much fun I never even thought about it."

Quickly she turned the phone on and felt a wave of guilt when she saw all the missed calls from Tom. "I better check, just to make sure it isn't an emergency." When she heard his last message, she shrieked.

"Are you okay in there, Cece?" Vince asked anxiously. In answer, Cece opened the bathroom door and wordlessly handed Vince her phone so he could hear the message. Tom's eyes grew wide. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "We are in so much trouble."

Cece slumped down on the bed and began to cry. "I never thought he would find out," she sobbed. "We have to go home right away, Vince."

He cradled her in his arms. "I guess you're right, baby. But we'll have to wait till tomorrow morning - with all we've had to drink, there's no way either of us should be behind the wheel tonight."

She looked at him tearfully. "You're right, but I feel so terrible about this."

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, holding her and kissing her hair. After a minute or two his kisses slipped down her neck to her ear and shoulder. Suddenly she sat bolt upright, pushing him away. 

"What do you think you're doing, Vince?" she demanded.

"Look, baby, we're stuck here tonight and we can't do anything until tomorrow anyway. Besides, you look hot as hell, and this may be the last chance we get for a while."

"I can't believe you!" she said hotly. "Our marriages are probably over, our jobs could be in jeopardy, and all you can think about is sex?"

"I just don't want to waste any chance we have to be together, baby, that's all."

"Well you have no chance at all tonight, mister. I'm sleeping in the other bed, and don't you be creeping over there in the middle of the night, either."

The temperature in the room chilled noticeably.

Vince

It wasn't until early afternoon on Thursday that Vince and Cece managed to start on the drive home. The two of them wound up sleeping much later than they had intended, and both of them had hangovers when they woke. Plenty of coffee and a light brunch helped; then they both had to pack and check out before finally hitting the road.

In the light of day, the enormity of the trouble they were in hit them full force. They chose to order room service for breakfast because Cece couldn't stop crying and she didn't want others to see her. In addition to being certain that her marriage was over, Cece was stricken by remorse at the pain she knew her deceit had caused Tom. She also realized that her husband would also be in agony at the prospect of losing face among his colleagues and their friends. "No matter what happens, we've got to try to keep this quiet - for his sake as well as our own," she told Vince.

Vince did all he could to reassure her. "Tom loves you," he kept repeating. "It will be hard, but he'll forgive you. And even if he doesn't, he can save face by filing under irreconcilable differences, not adultery." Cece knew that Vince was right, but the idea of divorce sent her into another round of weeping.

When she finally calmed a little, she raised her head and asked, "What about Rachel? How is she going to take this?"

Vince looked at her unhappily. "It's going to be very, very hard on her. Her parents went through a painful divorce that left some deep scars." Then his face brightened a little. "But maybe that's a positive thing. If we can get through the initial pain, maybe what happened to her parents will convince Rachel not to demand a divorce."

Then his mood turned deeply serious. "I know that it would be best for Tom and Rachel if we both could avoid divorce. And frankly, it will be a lot better for your career and mine. But the fact is, I don't want to end things with you." He took Cece's hands in his and asked, "How do you feel about that?"

She stared hard at him, then dropped her eyes. "Don't make me answer that question. This is all such a mess and I don't know what's going to happen to any of us. All I know is we have to get home and start dealing with it."

When they wheeled their bags out to the parking lot, Vince came over to Cece's car and said, "I'm going to follow you to your home, baby."

She looked at him in alarm. "You can't do that, Vince, it will make Tom just that much angrier."

"I don't care," he said stubbornly, "I'm going to make sure he doesn't do anything to harm you. If he wants to take a swing at me, that's fine -I deserve it anyway. But I won't let him touch you."

Nothing she could say could dissuade him, so she set out for home apprehensively, with Vince's car right behind her.

Tom

Tom had gone in to work that morning, but when he received a text around noon from Cece saying she was on her way, he took the rest of the day off to go home and await her return. As the hours went by, he grew increasingly agitated. "What the hell is taking her so long?" he fumed. "Did she stop along the way to fuck Vince again?"

As a result he was in a highly emotional state when he saw Cece's car finally pull into the driveway. And when he saw Vince pull in behind her, he was beside himself. He threw open the front door and yelled, "What the hell is he doing here?"

Instead of replying, Vince simply grabbed Cece's bags and walked with her up to the door. "Listen, Tom, I know you're angry with me, and you have every right to be. But I owe it to you to face you like a man, and I owe it to Cece to make sure she doesn't come to any harm because of what I've done."

Tom simply stared at him, so upset that he couldn't think of anything to say. Finally he remembered how public their little scene was and backed away from the door. Warily, Vince and Cece went in and sat down in the living room.

Tom had spent the afternoon rehearsing what he wanted to say to Cece, but now that she was here with Vince he couldn't recall a thing he had planned. Before he could start, Cece spoke up, tears already starting to roll down her cheeks. "Tom, I'm so sorry for what we've done to you. I never wanted to hurt you. The truth is I never believed that you'd find out."

Tom stared at her angrily. "And what is it that you've done exactly that you're sorry for? Oh, maybe it was this!" And with that he tossed the photos from the detective agency onto the coffee table in front of Cece and Vince. Vince turned pale and Cece began to sob.

Tom felt a certain vindication at the pair's obvious distress, but his triumph was short-lived. Vince suddenly spoke up. "Have you showed these pictures to anyone else, Tom?"

Tom had intended to contact an attorney and use the photos as evidence, but the idea of revealing his shame to another person had caused him to hesitate. Now Tom felt defensive, and he spat out, "No, but I'm going to. I just wanted to hear what this slut had to say for herself first." Even to Tom that sounded weak.

Now Vince saw an opportunity. "Listen, Tom, you don't want to do anything hasty. Cece loves you; she doesn't want to lose you. I was the bad guy in all this; I was the one who seduced her. Everybody at those conventions goes wild, and in that sort of environment I took advantage of her. If you forgive her and take her back, you'll have the most loving and faithful wife any man ever had, I promise you. Be angry at me, but show Cece that you still love her."

Tom was thrown off guard. A part of him did indeed want to take Vince's advice because then there would be no exposure, no humiliation. But his emotions from the week were still raw and he found it hard to put those away so easily. "You want me to just forget about those pictures, forget about what you two have been doing all week?" he asked incredulously.

"I know it's a deep wound, and it's going to take a long time to heal completely. But love is the one thing that can heal that kind of wound, and I think you both still love each other very deeply," Vince said.

As he spoke, Cece glanced over at him with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She had never expected Vince to fall on his sword for her and she was filled with gratitude and something more.

Tom too was surprised at Vince's words, and now a new rationalization filled his mind. It wasn't Cece's fault: Vince had seduced her. She'd been weak but had learned her lesson. If they went to counseling and worked things out, everything would be back to normal and no one would ever know.

As those thoughts flashed through his mind, he slowly turned toward Cece. "Do you really feel that way, Cece? Would you promise to be faithful from now on and to go to counseling to work on our marriage? Would you promise never to see Vince again?"

At that last sentence, Cece suddenly darted a look at Vince and then stared at the floor, unable to look at her husband. 

Tom understood the implications instantly. "Omigod, he almost had me fooled. You don't love me, you're in love with Vince! That does it, I'm . . ."

At that moment the doorbell rang, and Tom's head jerked around to stare at the door. "Who the hell can that be?" he asked. The doorbell rang again insistently, and Tom went over to shoo the caller away. But when he opened the door, Rachel came bursting into the room, almost knocking Tom down.

All three of them stared at her in shock. Instead of the attractive and well-groomed woman they all knew, the figure that stood before them was a harridan with hair uncombed, clothes askew and a wild expression on her face. "I thought I'd find the three of you plotting against me!" she yelled. "You're all in it together."

Cece was the first to recover. "No, Rachel, you've got it all wrong. Vince and I came here to confess to Tom and beg his forgiveness. Then we were coming to see you."

"You're a liar!" Rachel screamed. "You're just a slut who spread your legs for my husband and who knows how many others!" Suddenly, to their astonishment, she sprang at Cece and hit her in the cheek with her fist, knocking the stunned woman to the floor.

For a moment everyone was paralyzed; then Vince grabbed his wife by the arms and pulled her away from Cece's sprawling figure. Rachel screamed and began trying to hit and claw her husband. When he held her arms securely she kicked him in the shin, causing him to collapse on the floor in pain. 

Rachel stood over him, screaming invective. "Do you know what you've done to me? I told you what happened to my mother and my sister, and you cheated on me anyway. But don't think you and your little slut will get away with this. Before I'm through the two of you will never work in education again. Everyone will hear about this - everyone will see those pictures!"

Tom had been too stunned to act, but Rachel's threat to make the photos public spurred him to action. "Rachel," he said soothingly, "let's talk about this. We . . ."

"You!" Rachel screamed at him. "If you had kept your bitch on a leash when she was in heat, she wouldn't have gone sniffing at my husband's crotch. But I guess you just weren't man enough to satisfy her. Well don't worry about me talking. When I get through, everyone in town will be laughing at you. When they go on Google to look up 'cuckold,' your face will be the first thing they see!" she sneered derisively.

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, swiveling to look at all three of them. "I'm going home now to get some rest. I'll need it because I've got a big day ahead of me: careers to destroy, reputations to ruin, good names to smear." She turned toward Vince. "And don't even think about coming home, husband dear. If you do I'll have the police on you so fast it will make your head spin."

Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the front door behind her. The three remaining people were so stunned that they temporarily forgot their own problems. "Omigod, what was all that?" Cece gasped in disbelief. "I thought she was going to kill me."

"She's going to kill us all, one way or another, unless we stop her," Tom said. Turning to Vince, he said accusingly, "She's your wife - can't you do anything with her?"

In some ways Vince was more shaken than any of them. "You don't understand, I have never seen anything like that before. I knew her history with her parents, but she's never behaved like this. I wonder if she's had some sort of psychotic episode."

"Well, you may not have seen it before, but she was like that when I told her about you and Cece earlier this week," Tom said sullenly.

"You told her about us?" Tom yelled. "Why in the hell did you do that?"

Tom's anger was back in full force. "Well why in the hell did you commit adultery with my wife, you bastard?"

Tempers flared again until finally Tom roared, "I want the two of you out of my house right now. Vince, I don't care where you go, and as for you, Cece . . ." Then he paused and thought better of what he'd been about to say. "No, I don't want the two of you getting together in some motel. Cece, you stay here tonight - I'll find a place to stay and we'll figure things out tomorrow. Vince, I'd better not hear about you trying to sneak over here, or there'll be hell to pay."

With that the three of them split up and went their separate ways, each shaken, each wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Rachel 

Exhausted from her meltdown at Tom Maddux's house, Rachel returned home and soon fell asleep on the couch. It was sometime much later that night that she awoke to the sound of footsteps out on her front porch. "I'll bet it's Vince trying to sneak in," she thought, her anger flaring. She rushed to the front door and flung it open. In the faint glow of the street light, the only thing she saw clearly was the muzzle of an automatic pointed at her. "Oh!" she said, and then the 9 mm. round traveling at well over 1200 feet per second blew a hole through her forehead and sent skull fragments and brain tissue spraying into the house. She never felt it, nor did she feel the next three bullets that were fired into her corpse.




Eenie, Meenie, Miney...



Detective Harry Bridgewater and Detective Tess Mosely

The rookie patrolman had gotten a little queasy when he first saw Rachel Madison's body, but by the time the lab team arrived he had pretty well recovered. He heard a car pull up across the street and saw a man and a woman emerge. To the patrolman it sounded like they were arguing.

The patrolman turned to his sergeant, who waved at the approaching pair. "Who are they?" he asked curiously. 

The sergeant laughed. "That's Detective Bridgewater and Detective Mosely, but we just call them the odd couple."

"Why the 'odd couple'?"

"Because they're always going at each other like an old married couple," the sergeant chuckled. "What's so funny is that they're not married - they just fight like they are. But they still make a good team and they've solved a lot of cases over the last few of years."

Just then Harry and Tess stepped up on the porch. "It's awful early, Sarge," Harry said. "What have you got for us?"

The sergeant pulled out his notebook. "According to the driver's license we found inside, the stiff is a 36-year-old woman named Mrs. Rachel Madison. The lab boys say she was killed sometime around 2:00 a.m. this morning. Cause of death was a bullet through her brain, but just to make sure the perp shot her three more times, twice in the chest and once in the pelvis area."

The detectives exchanged glances. "A crime of passion," Tess murmured.

"The lab guys couldn't find any prints or other obvious forensic evidence, but they want to have another go just to make sure."

"Anything missing inside - money or valuables?" Harry asked.

"If it's a crime of passion, there wouldn't be," Tess spoke up, and Harry shot her a dirty look. "Maybe, but you always gotta ask," he said, rolling his eyes for the sergeant's benefit.

The man managed to keep a straight face. "Nope. The contents of her purse were dumped out on the couch, but nothing appears to be missing. We found a couple of hundred dollars in her billfold."

"Anybody hear or see anything?" Harry went on.

"The neighbor who called it in said he heard some noise but thought it was kids shooting fireworks."

"Where was Mr. Madison?" Tess asked.

Harry turned to her in irritation. "I was just getting to that."

She ignored her partner and raised her eyebrows in question at the sergeant.

"Nowhere to be found. From the looks of the place he hasn't been there for several days. Maybe he's traveling out of town or something."

"Check her cellphone," Harry said. "She's probably got his number in it."

"Will do, just as soon as we get through running it for any other evidence," the sergeant said.

Now Tess rolled her eyes. "You can't do anything these days until the lab types have finished," she said disgustedly.

After the two of them had done a walk-through of the crime scene, they came back out and walked to the car. "No use going home," Harry said, "it's dawn already. Let's go by the IHOP and get something to eat."

Tess gave him an irritated look. "You eat too much junk food, Harry. It's not good for your heart. Let's go someplace where we can get something healthy."

He heaved a sigh. "Yes, Mother," he said sarcastically, "whatever you say."

Tess snickered.

They wound up at a mom-and-pop diner, and over black coffee and whole grain cereal they talked about the case. "The husband done it," Harry declared decisively.

"How can you say that?" Tess asked incredulously.

"Dead wife plus missing husband plus crime of passion equals guilty husband: Q I D."

Tess shook her head. "In the first place, you haven't talked to a single witness or suspect so you can't possibly make that call. In the second place, it's Q E D - quod erat demonstrandum. It's Latin, you dummy."

"It's all Greek to me," Harry quipped, pleased with his little joke. "But however you say it, I'll bet you dinner that I'm right."

"You may well be," Tess said, "but it's worth it to take that bet just on the chance to prove you're wrong."

The two were finishing their second cup of coffee when Harry got a phone call. After he hung up, Tess looked at him quizzically. "They found Vince Madison. He's staying at a Super 8 motel near the highway. Let's go."

There was a patrolman standing outside the door of one of the rooms on the ground floor when Harry and Tess arrived. "I guess they didn't want the guilty party to try to take a powder," Harry said snidely.

Tess ignored him and went to the door and knocked. When a man opened it, she introduced the two of them and indicated they needed to ask Madison about his wife. Once inside, the two detectives settled into their regular routine: Harry asked the questions while Tess observed. Over the years they'd found that she was much better at reading suspects than Harry.

"Mr. Madison, where were you from midnight until this morning?"

"I was right here," Vince said somewhat defensively. "I went out to dinner and then checked in here sometime between 8:00 and 9:00 p.m. The desk clerk could tell you exactly. Anyway, I watched a little TV and then went to bed. I've been asleep until your officer woke me up."

Harry made an entry in his notebook. "Did anyone see you after you checked into the motel? Is there anyone who can verify that you were here the whole time?"

The man shook his head in exasperation. "If you're asking if I was with somebody, the answer is no. I was alone the whole night."

"And you didn't get up to go out for a while after you checked in?"

"I just said I didn't, Detective."

"Uh-huh. So why exactly were you spending the night in a motel instead of at your own home with your wife."

It was obvious to Tess how uneasy Madison was.

"Well, the fact is that Rachel and I had a little spat, and I thought it would be best if I left and let things cool down a little. I was going to go home today and try to work things out. Of course now . . ."

"What were the two of you fighting about?"

"We weren't really fighting, we just had a disagreement."

"About what?"

"I had to go to the state educational convention this week in the capital. Rachel wanted me to come home early, and when I couldn't, I guess she got a little upset."

"Did you hit her?"

"What! No, of course not!"

"Did she hit you?"

Tess thought he hesitated just a micro-second. "No. It was an argument, not a knock-down, drag-out fight."

"So let me get this straight: you came back from the convention yesterday and when you got home you and your wife had an argument."

Now Madison was really uncomfortable. "Uh, no, not exactly. One of the teachers at our school, Mrs. Maddux, also attended the convention, and I followed her home just to make sure she arrived safely. Tom and Cece Maddux are friends of ours, so I went in to speak with them for a minute."

"So you visited briefly with the Madduxes before you went home, where you had an argument with your wife, right?"

"No, actually Rachel came over to Tom and Cece's house, and the argument took place there. It was pretty embarrassing."

"So from your friends' home you went out to dinner and then checked into the motel here - is that it?"

"Exactly," Vince said, and his relief was obvious.

"Okay, only two more questions for now. How would you characterize your marriage with Mrs. Madison?

Vince shifted in his chair. "Obviously we had our ups and downs, but I'd say all in all it was a pretty normal marriage.

Harry nodded sagely. "Do you own a gun, Mr. Madison?"

"No!" Vince said sharply.

"Okay," Harry said, "that does it for now. But don't leave town without letting us know, in case we have more questions for you." He and Tess rose and started to leave. "Oh, and sorry about your loss, Mr. Madison."

Vince nodded.

Harry started the engine and pulled out of the motel parking lot. "He was lying like a rug," he said smugly. 

"I don't think he was lying so much as he wasn't telling us everything he knew," Tess said. "He's definitely trying to keep us from finding out something."

"Yeah, like the fact he shot his wife," Harry snorted. "I can taste that dinner already."

Tess ignored him. "So where are we headed now?"

"Let's grab some more coffee and then go see if Mr. and Mrs. Maddux are home," he replied.

Vince

As soon as the police had left, Vince grabbed his cellphone and called Cece. When she heard his voice she immediately exclaimed, "Oh, Vince, I just heard the news about Rachel."

She was about to go on but he interrupted her. "Listen, I can't talk about that now. The police were just here asking a bunch of questions. They know that Rachel went to your house yesterday, and I told them that we had an argument, but that was all. Now they're probably on their way over to talk to you and Tom. If you don't want to see everything about us spread all over the newspapers, you'd better get him home as quick as possible and convince him to cooperate."

He could hear the panic in Cece's voice. "How am I ever going to do that? Tom hates me - he won't care if I lose my job."

"I know, Cece, but the last thing he wants is for everybody to start laughing at him and calling him a cuckold," Vince said. "He has as much to lose as we do. You can work on that."

He heard her take a deep breath. "I'll try, Vince, but I can't promise anything."

"Just do your best," he said urgently.

"Vince," Cece asked in a hesitant voice, "did you kill Rachel?"

"No!" Vince exploded, "of course not. I could never do such a thing!"

"I didn't think so, but she was so hateful to you that I just wondered."

"Get that thought out of your mind and focus on convincing Tom to play along. Remember, he has as much to lose as we do."

Harry and Tess

When Harry and Tess knocked on the Maddux's front door, Tom and Cece were there to meet them. After introductions were exchanged, Harry flipped open his notebook. 

"I understand the two of you were friends with the Madisons. What was their relationship with each other like?"

Tom and Cece exchanged glances, and Tom spoke up. "Pretty normal, I'd say. They had their disagreements like most married couples, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"I heard that the two of them had a pretty heated argument at your house yesterday afternoon. Did you two witness the fight?"

To Tess, Tom looked and sounded extremely nervous. "Uh-huh," he said simply.

"What was their quarrel about?"

Seeing Tom hesitate, Cece quickly jumped in. "It was nothing really. The education convention had been going on all week, and I think Rachel missed Vince. Anyway, they began arguing and it got a little heated."

Harry checked his notes and then looked at Cece. "Was Mrs. Madison here when you and Mr. Madison returned from the convention?" 

"No," Tom spoke up, "she arrived a little later."

"Why would she come over to your house? How would she know Mrs. Maddux and Mr. Madison were here? Did you call her?"

"No," Tom said, obviously uncomfortable, "I guess . . ."

Cece quickly interrupted, "I think she must have come over here to see if Vince and I had arrived. Like I said, she was impatient for him to come home."

Harry nodded and referred again to his notebook as the couple waited tensely. He looked up and asked, "So after their quarrel, did Mr. and Mrs. Madison leave together?"

Tom could handle that one. "No, they each left in their own cars."

Harry nodded. "Of course, of course. So after they left, the two of you were here together the whole night?"

Tom and Cece shot each other quick glances; it was Cece who spoke. "Actually, no. I'm afraid Tom and I got into a bit of an argument ourselves after they left, and Tom wound up staying at a motel last night."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "So the fact is that neither one of you can vouch for the whereabouts of the other at the time of the murder, is that right?"

Tom and Cece stared at each other again in surprise, and Tess wasn't sure what passed between them. Finally, Tom said, "No, but I don't see why that matters. Neither one of us had anything to do with what happened to poor Rachel."

To Tess's surprise, Harry stood up and put away his notebook. "Okay, I think that's all we need for now. If we need any further information, we'll get back in touch with you." With that he headed for the door, with Tess following reluctantly.

Once they were back on the road, Tess turned to her partner and exclaimed, "Have you lost your mind, Harry? They were both as nervous as a condemned man in the electric chair. There were lots more questions you should have asked them."

Harry glanced over at her with a smug expression. "You think I don't know that, Ms. Smartypants? It was plain as your face that they had coordinated their stories before we came. I want them to feel like they put one over on us, then call them in for questioning separately. I think we'll hear a whole different story when one can't cover for the other."

Tess looked at him doubtfully. "Maybe, but I think we could have done as well if we'd pressed them a little harder just now."

"Just wait and see," Harry said confidently.

Tom

Tom was pacing back and forth in their living room. "This is never going to work," he complained. "They're going to see right through that lame story and we're going to wind up in a lot of trouble."

"No they're not," Cece shot back. "They bought it today - we just have to stick with it."

"I don't see why you're trying so hard to protect Vince when it's obvious that he's the one who shot Rachel."

"No he didn't!" Cece said sharply, even as a finger of doubt tickled her thoughts. "Vince would never do anything like that."

"Well if he didn't kill her, maybe you did," Tom lashed out, stung to see how strongly Cece was defending her lover.

Cece was shocked. "I can't believe you'd say something like that, Tom!" Then a terrible thought arose so powerfully that she voiced it without thinking. "In fact, maybe you're the one who shot her! I know how protective you are of your precious reputation."

To her surprise, Tom responded by flopping down in his chair. "How are we ever going to avoid disaster if we're already fighting among ourselves like this?" He put his face in his hands for a minute, then looked up at her. "There's something you'd better think about, Cece. After what we just told those cops, we're going to have to continue living together until this thing is over." His face took on a grim expression. "But I can promise you we'll be sleeping in separate bedrooms, and my door is going to be locked at night."

Harry and Tess

Harry hung up the phone and turned to Tess with a grin on his face. "He'll be down here in half an hour. And I could tell he wasn't happy - he sounded like a man going to the gallows."

Tess looked at her partner thoughtfully. "Let's try something different: let me interview the husband and you interview the wife."

"Why do you want to change things up? It's always worked well for us the old way."

"Call it a hunch, but I think Mr. Maddux may give up more in response to a softer touch."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You and your crazy hunches. Alright, we'll try it and see what happens."

When Tom arrived at the precinct, Tess led him back to one of the interrogation rooms. "Thank you for coming down, Mr. Maddux," she said with a sympathetic smile. "I know how stressful this must be for you."

He nodded at her gratefully and took the seat she indicated. She knew that Harry would have a good view through the one-way glass.

"I want to start by asking you about Vincent Madison. What's your opinion of him, Mr. Maddux?"

"Well, he seems alright, but I don't really know him well enough to say."

She nodded understandingly. "Based on your limited exposure to him, would you say he's the kind of man that can be relied on? Solid? Dependable?"

He squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, again, I don't know him all that well . . ."

She interrupted. "Do you trust him, Mr. Maddux?"

"I . . . I . . . I don't know."

"You don't know if he's trustworthy, yet you were willing to let your wife go off with him to the convention for a week? That seems odd."

He looked like a man fighting an internal battle. Tess decided to change directions.

"You mentioned before that you and your wife had a fight after the Madisons left your house. What were you fighting about?" she asked softly.

"Well, it was several things, and . . ."

"No," she said insistently, "what were you really fighting about? Was it about the convention? Was it about Vince?"

To Harry's astonishment, tears began to roll down Tom's cheeks. Tess was also surprised but she suppressed her reaction. Softly she asked, "Were Cece and Vince having an affair, Tom?"

The distraught man laid his head down in his arms and began to cry. Tess scooted closer and put her arm around his shoulders in a comforting manner. When he finally regained control of himself, she handed him a box of tissues. "It's alright to cry, Tom. I know how much it hurts to be cheated on. Why don't you tell me about it. You'll feel a lot better if you get it off your chest."

He looked at her with bloodshot eyes. "Can we keep this confidential, Detective?" he asked anxiously. "It would kill me if people who knew me found out."

She nodded sympathetically. "We'll do our best to avoid any unnecessary disclosure."

And with that, Tom proceeded tearfully to tell the entire story of his discovery of Cece's affair, the private detective's report, the disturbing meeting with Rachel and then the climactic showdown in the Maddux's living room. When he finished, he appeared to be exhausted, but he still looked at Tess with concern. "You've got to keep this quiet. If the people who know me - the people I work with - find out, they'll make my life a living hell. My reputation will be destroyed, I'll have to leave town."

His excessive concern about his reputation seemed odd to Tess, so she tried to draw him out. "I know what you mean, Tom. People can be so cruel."

"You don't know the half of it," he said bitterly. "Some of the guys I work with are like wild beasts. The minute they smell blood they're on you until there's nothing left. It's horrible!"

"It's almost as if his good name is more important to him than his wife's infidelity," she mused.

After Tom had left, Harry came into the interrogation room with a strange look on his face. "How the hell did you know the guy's wife was having an affair?" he demanded. "I was floored when you came out with that one, and I nearly shit myself when he folded like a bad poker hand."

She smiled smugly. "See, my hunch was right. A little sympathy and a little inspiration - that's all it took."

He looked at her. You think you're pretty clever, but you're overlooking one thing. You may have uncovered what really was going on, but all you've really done is given us another suspect!"

"Wait a minute," Tess protested, "surely you don't . . ."

"Think about it," he said. "This guy would do almost anything to save his reputation. And he just told you how the Madison woman threatened to ruin it. Sounds like a pretty strong motive to me," he chuckled.

"Son of a bitch!" Tess swore.

Cece

When Tom got back home, Cece took one look at him and anger filled her face. "You told them everything, didn't you?" she accused.

He wouldn't look at her. "They already knew - it didn't matter what I said. The only good news is that the woman detective promised me they'd keep it all quiet as much as possible."

Cece shook her head. "You idiot! 'As much as possible' means they can do anything they want." With that she ran back to the bedroom and locked the door behind her. Picking up her cellphone she quickly called Vince. When he answered, she hastily told him, "The police know everything. They got Tom down at the precinct and he blabbed his head off. If the school board finds out, you and I are in so much trouble."




Eenie, Meenie, Miney...



Before Vince could reply, Cece saw that another call was incoming. "Damn, now I've got a call from the police. I better take this. I've got to go, Vince."

Harry and Tess

Tess took the observation seat this time as Harry escorted Cece Maddux into the interrogation room. She noted the stern expression on Harry's face.

"Mrs. Maddux, your husband's account of what went on this past week is very different from what you told us in your home."

Cece looked at him with beseeching eyes. "Detective Bridgewater, my marriage is in a very delicate state right now. Surely you can understand why I would be reluctant to air our dirty laundry to strangers."

Harry ignored her plea for sympathy. "I know how your husband feels about the week you spent with Mr. Madison," he said, "but I'd like to hear more about Mrs. Madison's reaction. It sounds to me like more than just a normal marital spat went on in your living room."

Cece shuddered. "God, it was horrible! I've never seen Rachel like that - I've never seen anyone like that. She was wild, raving, almost incoherent."

"What kind of things did she say to you?" Harry asked.

"She called me some really ugly names - that I probably deserve," Cece said with shame.

"Did she give you that bruise you're trying to hide with your make-up?" Harry asked, pointing at Cece's cheek.

Cece's eyes flashed in anger. "She assaulted me! She attacked me without warning and knocked me down. I was so angry I wanted to kill her. . ." Then she gasped and stopped short as she realized what she had said.

"She threatened you, didn't she?" Harry prompted.

"Yes," Cece admitted reluctantly, "she told me she'd ruin both Vince and me, that we'd never work in education again."

"What did you make of her threats?" he asked. "Was she serious?"

"You should have seen her, Detective. She would have destroyed all three of us on the spot if she could have."

In a quiet voice, Harry asked, "Do you own a pistol, Mrs. Maddux?"

"Yes, I do," she admitted unhappily. Then she looked at him imploringly. "But it was just for protection. My father gave it to me years ago."

Even more quietly, Harry pressed on. "Did you kill Rachel Madison, Cece?"

The woman's facial façade crumbled and she began to cry. "No, no, I didn't kill her. I could never do such a thing."

"Do you still have the pistol, Mrs. Maddux?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "I keep it in my nightstand for protection like I told you."

"We'd like to follow you back to your house and get it to see if it's been fired lately, just to be sure."

"Alright," she said resignedly.

Tess quickly joined Harry in the car. As they followed Cece, Tess nodded at him with a little smile on her face. "Well, Harry, you certainly got through her armor. Of course, you also managed to give us a third suspect."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Tom

Tom was startled when he heard the key in the front door. When he went to the entrance hall he saw Cece come in, followed closely by the two detectives. "What now?" he thought apprehensively.

But Cece ignored him, and she and the detectives walked back to their bedroom, with Tom following. At their bedside Cece pointed to her nightstand and said, "It's in there." The male detective quickly said, "Don't touch it; let me do it." He snapped on a latex glove and delicately pulled open the nightstand drawer. Then he turned around with an accusatory look on his face. "It's not there."

Cece almost shoved him aside as she hurried to look. Then she whirled around to stare at Tom. "Did you take my pistol?" she demanded.

"No! What are you talking about? I never mess with your things."

Cece turned back to the detectives. "I know I had it right there," she said. "It's been stolen!"

The detectives proceeded to ask Cece a number of questions about the kind of pistol she had, the last time it had been fired, and the last time she'd seen it. As they did so, Tom wandered off to the den. "They think Cece killed Rachel!" he said to himself in amazement.

Harry and Tess

Tess was putting her dishes in the dishwasher when her doorbell rang. She went to the other room to let Harry in.

"You're late," she said.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was catching up on my paperwork. I ate a sandwich at my desk."

She went into the kitchen and returned with two bottles of beer, one of which she handed to Harry, the other she began to sip as she sat down on the couch. "So what do you make of this crazy case?" she asked.

Harry took a healthy swig and shook his head. "I still think it was the husband who did it, but I'm not as certain as I was earlier." He rubbed his eyes. "That woman - Rachel - must have really been something."

Tess nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. You can't blame her for getting upset about her husband and Cece, but the way she acted when they came home was way over the top. That was a woman who definitely had issues."

"Okay, let's try to figure this out. We've got three suspects now, so let's take 'em one at a time." Harry held up his index finger. "Her husband's motive is obvious. Rachel would probably have cleaned him out in the divorce. And if she'd raised a stink with the school board, Vince would have been fired in a heartbeat. Obviously, he had a strong incentive to prevent that from happening."

He added a second finger. "Likewise, Cece Maddux was in the same boat. Her career is just as vulnerable as Vince's."

"And she might have had another motive," Tess added. "Unless I miss my guess, she's in love with Madison. If I'm right, she might have felt a desire to protect not only herself but also her lover."

"And she had a pistol and knew how to use it," Harry added. "Isn't it odd that it's conveniently gone missing?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But the thing is, whoever killed Rachel had more on their mind than just self-preservation. Rachel was shot multiple times, including once in the pelvis. In my book that indicates a crime of passion," Tess pointed out.

"Yeah, but both Vince and Cece had reason to hate Rachel with a passion. After she punched Cece and kicked Vince, both of them probably felt pretty vengeful."

He held up his third finger. "Anyway, that leaves us with Tom Maddux, the hapless husband. In a weird sort of way, I think he might have had a stronger motive than the other two. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so worried about what other people think of him. And Rachel made it clear that she planned to humiliate him as widely as possible."

"Yeah," Tess agreed, "listening to him in interrogation, it sounded like he would do almost anything to save face."

Harry finished his beer, then looked shrewdly at Tess. "You know what the most dangerous animal in the world is?" he asked her.

She looked at him questioningly.

"It's the one that gets backed into a corner. You never know what they're going to do."

Tess nodded. "The problem is, it looks to me like Rachel backed all three of them into the corner at the same time. We still don't know which one of 'em lashed out at her."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Then Tess kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch. "Be a good guy and come rub my feet, Harry."

He heaved a theatrical sigh and came over to take her feet in his hands. As he began to massage them, Tess purred, "That feels so good, Harry. You have no idea."

After a few minutes he paused. "Is that enough?"

She looked up at him balefully. "Your hands haven't fallen off yet."

He snorted and resumed his massage. After a while his hands left her feet and slid up her legs, rubbing her shins and calves. "That feels good too, Harry." 

He worked higher, massaging her thighs. She pulled her skirt higher to give him access. "That's even better," she sighed.

When his fingers reached her panties, she moaned a little. Then she protested, "Don't stop now, Harry," but he was only slipping her panties off her hips and down her legs. In seconds his fingers were back and she began making little gasps.

Finally she looked at him with hooded eyes and said, "Do I have to tell you everything? Hurry up and get your clothes off."

He only snickered and quickly undressed himself. When he had finished, he lay down beside her, his body partly on the couch and partly on her. "Have you been putting on weight?" she asked him sharply, then quickly continued, "No, never mind. Just keep doing what you're doing with your hand."

After another couple of minutes she reached down and began to stroke his cock. "Come on, baby, give it to me now. I really need it, Harry, please."

A smile of triumph flitted over his lips, but he concentrated on what he was doing. She spread her legs wide and he lined himself up with her, then slid all the way in. "Oh, yes," she gasped, "just like that, nice and slow."

He began a nice, easy rhythm, and Tess began to purr and hum. "It feels so nice," she crooned. "You do me so good, Harry."

He knew how to read her, and after another few minutes he increased his pace. "Oh yes, oh fuck!" she cried out. "That's perfect, Harry. Don't stop, just keep going. Don't ever stop."

After another few minutes she abruptly cocked her hips up and grabbed for him. "Now, Harry, do me hard baby. Faster, faster, I'm almost there - oh, oh, oh, ohhhh!" And with a long drawn-out sigh she collapsed, her hips still twitching now and then as aftershocks rolled through her. Harry continued thrusting into her until he too exploded with a grunt.

"That was so good, Harry," she murmured into his ear after a few minutes.

They lay that way together for a long time until Tess gave him a little shove. "Alright, get off before you squash me, you big ape. I do think you're putting on weight." Then she scrambled off the couch and made a dash for the bathroom, clutching her pussy to keep from dripping on the carpet.

When she returned wearing a dressing gown, Harry was still lolling on the couch. "Come on, Harry, time to get up."

"Can't I stay here tonight, Tess, just this once?"

"You know better than that. If somebody from the precinct drove by and saw both our cars here, we'd never hear the end of it. And for damn sure they wouldn't let us work together anymore."

"Alright, alright, quit your nagging. I'll go - but it's a royal pain."

She got a sly smile on her face. "You don't have to come back if it's too much trouble, Harry."

"As if you could do without me for long, you horny wench," he said as he pulled on his clothes.

When the two of them arrived at the precinct the next morning, the desk sergeant had a surprise for them. "We may have found the murder weapon last night. A waste management company truck was making a pick-up at a construction site. When they tilted the dumpster to pull it up on the truck, the load shifted and a pistol that had been tossed inside somehow went off. Apparently the bullet ricocheted around a little inside, scaring the driver half to death.

"Anyway, when they got the dumpster back to the lot, somebody crawled inside and found a Glock. Ballistics is testing it now. And here's the interesting thing: the dumpster was only two blocks away from the Madison home."

As the two detectives stood talking to each other, a man in a white lab coat came hurrying up waving a sheet of paper. "Hey, you two, we got a match. We'll need to do another test to confirm the results, but I'll bet dollars to doughnuts this is the pistol that killed that woman in your case."

"Any fingerprints on it?" Harry asked quickly.

"No luck," the technician said. "Between all the dust and crap in the dumpster and the prints from the guy who fished it out, we couldn't get anything."

The two detectives made their way to their desks and sat down to discuss this latest development. "So how do you feel about your bet now, Harry?" Tess asked. "This points a finger right in Cece Maddux's direction."

"Not necessarily," Harry shot back. "It's just as possible that her husband could have taken the gun. That would give him both the means to commit the crime plus a nice alibi as well."

Tess got pensive look on her face. "Come to think of it, since we don't know how long the gun was missing, anyone who visited their house - like Vince Madison - could have taken it. They all knew Cece had a pistol. The fact is, this doesn't really get us any closer to the killer at all."

Harry got a sour look on his face. "We've got three suspects, and all of 'em had strong reasons for wanting Rachel Madison silenced. Now we've got the murder weapon, but any one of them could have gotten access to it. This case is like bobbing for apples: every time you get close to one it bobs away from you."

Tess laughed at him. "When was the last time you went bobbing for apples, old man?"

"You know," he said, "like back when we were kids at Halloween. It was . . ." He saw her still laughing and he stopped. "Numbskull," he muttered in disgust.

The two of them were filling out the seemingly unending paperwork each case required when the precinct captain marched up, a scowl on his face. "How are you two coming on the Madison murder?" he demanded. "I'm getting a lot of pressure to make an arrest." 

Tess and Harry exchanged quick glances and Tess stood up. She always seemed to be better at dealing with the brass than Harry.

"We think we're pretty close, Captain. We've got three good suspects; now we've just got to narrow them down to one," she told him.

Her response didn't make him happy. "Detective Mosely, we have a state employee living in a quiet neighborhood shot to death on her own doorstep in the middle of the night. A lot of people are upset and they want answers. I can't very well go to the media and tell them we have three suspects, now can I? There's got to be something more out there, and I expect you two to find it - pronto!"

With that he stalked off, and Harry turned to his partner in frustration. "What the hell does he want us to do: beat those three until one of 'em confesses?"

Tess was equally at a loss. "What aren't we seeing? What have we overlooked?"

Harry threw his pen down and stood up. "Well, I know one thing: filling out a bunch of forms isn't going to get us any closer to the truth." He looked at Tess. "Come on, let's go out to the prison and see if we can find out anything about Rachel Madison." 

"How's that going to help narrow down the suspects, Harry? It sounds like waste of time to me," Tess complained.

"Maybe so," Harry said, "but you got any better ideas?"

As they made the drive out to Western Correctional Center, Tess looked at Harry with a skeptical expression. "I still think this is a waste of time. Sure, Rachel was the head nurse out there, but what does that have to do with this case?"

"Beats me," Harry said, "but it's the only avenue I can think of that we haven't looked into. What can it hurt?"

She kept silent the rest of the drive, but she didn't look happy.

As they walked up to the administration building at the prison, a number of inmates were exercising out in the yard. When they saw Tess, some of them began to hoot and holler at her, but she ignored them. One of the men stared at Harry. "Hey, I know you," he said. "You're the copper who put me in here."

"Hey, Jimmy, nice to see you in there while I'm out here," Harry said affably.

"Fuck you," the inmate said, giving the detective the finger. Harry just grinned.

Inside things were much more orderly, and the two detectives were conducted to the warden's office. When Harry asked him about Rachel, the warden shook his head in sadness. "What a tragedy! She was a good employee and a fine nurse. We're all still in shock about her death.

"You know, when she first came here I thought we might have problems because of her looks." He turned to Tess. "You saw how young male offenders react around a good-looking woman. But Nurse Madison wouldn't take anything off of them, and most of them treated her with respect. I don't know how she did it but she always seemed able to make them toe the line."

"Is there anyone who worked with Nurse Madison regularly, anyone she might have confided in?" Harry asked.

At this new request, Tess rolled her eyes, but Harry ignored her as the warden directed them to one of the guards, Ray Hudson. "Ray worked with her frequently; he was her unofficial assistant," the warden told them.

As they walked to the guard station, Tess grabbed Harry by the arm. "This isn't helping, Harry. Let's go back to the precinct." But Harry walked stubbornly on, and, heaving an audible sigh, Tess followed.

Ray Hudson was only slightly older than the prisoners he guarded. The young man had nothing but good things to say about the nurse, and it was obvious that her death had affected him deeply. "He's actually got tears in his eyes," Tess thought. "I'll bet he had a crush on her."

Hudson repeated what the warden had told them: most of the inmates seemed to like and respect the prison nurse. "They ought to," he said, "she took good care of those punks, better than they deserved."

"You said that most of the prisoners were respectful. Were there any who weren't?" Harry asked.

"Well," the guard said, "there were a few of them who weren't so polite. In fact, some of them really seemed to have it in for her. They'd never do or say anything to her, but I'd see 'em every day and I could tell. There was this one fellow, a Latino. I don't know why, but he just seemed to hate her. Every time he saw her he'd glare at her. It always worried me, but Nurse Madison wasn't the least bit concerned."

"I don't suppose he or any of those other guys who didn't like her have escaped recently," Harry said lightly.

"Naw," the guard said, "but the Latino was released just a couple of days ago."

Harry shot a quick glance at Tess and then quickly asked, "Do you remember the prisoner's name?"

"I sure do," Hudson said. "His name was Hector Hernandez."

While Harry started the car, Tess called the Parole Authority to find out which officer had been assigned to Hector Hernandez. Her call was transferred and she actually managed to reach the officer involved. After a few minutes Tess hung up and looked over at Harry. "Very interesting: Hector never checked in with his parole officer after his release. Technically, he's in violation right now."

"Great," Harry said in frustration. "So how are we going to find him?"

"Well, for starters I've got his mother's address. Let's head over there."

When they knocked on the door of the address they'd been given, a woman answered. The years had not been kind to her, so much so that Tess wasn't sure whether she was Hector's mother or grandmother.

"Mrs. Hernandez, we're from the Police Department. We'd like to talk to Hector."

To their surprise, the woman broke into tears. "I knew he was in trouble again. He's been hiding in the basement and won't come out for anything. He just lies around moaning that he's going to die."

Harry and Tess exchanged looks. Tess asked, "Can we come in, Mrs. Hernandez? We just want to talk with him."

She looked at the two detectives hopelessly, then shrugged and motioned for them to enter. "You can try; I can't do anything with him. Just don't hurt him," she begged. "He's my youngest, my nino."

She showed them to a door behind which were steps leading down to the basement. Harry looked at Tess and pointedly put his hand on his pistol. Tess nodded and did the same. Together they quietly made their way down to the basement, which smelled of mold, dirt and other things Tess didn't want to think about.

There was a little light coming through the dirty basement windows, and in the dimness they could make out a figure huddled on a cot. "Hector," Harry called out. "Hector Hernandez. It's the police, Hector. We just want to talk to you."