THE ADULTERESS by Santee110x
The garage door slid up on my electronic command. I blinked in surprise. I had nowhere to park in my own garage. My wife's silver BMW was in her spot on the left, but a shiny, red F-150 pickup truck was parked in my spot on the right.
Well, well, well; I had wondered before if my wife Bev was faithful. Guess I have my answer now.
I recognized the truck as belonging to Ted. He and his wife, Charlie, moved into a new house about a mile away a year-and-a-half or so ago. Ted is a junior partner at Bev's parents' law firm and has been with them about eight years. Last week he was showing off his new truck to several of us at a party at Bev's parents' house.
It is deer season, and almost every male in town packs up and goes off to deer camp for the whole two-week season. It's been a tradition in this part of the South as long as anybody can remember. Some wives and daughters go too, but it is mostly a guy event, a buddies-fathers-sons sort of thing. My wife is a girlie-girl and has not the slightest interest in roughing it in the woods overnight, much less for two weeks.
I belong to a hunting club east of town with buddies from work, and Ted belongs to a club west of town with a pack of lawyers; a conniving, blood sucking crowd I am happy to avoid. The season starts tomorrow morning, and I left for hunting camp at noon today to get ready. Bev expects me to be gone for the whole two weeks like every other male in town. Charlie, no doubt, expects Ted to be at his camp for two weeks too.
So Bev just opens the garage door, Ted drives in before dawn or after sunset, Bev closes the door, and voila, one has a perfect setting for an extended clandestine tryst. The wronged spouses have no clue of the torrid affair going on behind closed doors.
The fly in the adulterers' ointment is that I got to feeling poorly about six o'clock today. I decided to make the two hour drive back home in case I was coming down with something. I'd much rather recover from the flu or such in the comfort of home under the ministrations of my "devoted" wife rather than tough it out in the woods alone. That is the only reason that I happened to be rolling up here at eight o'clock tonight to discover this clever little love nest. I grabbed some medicine at the drugstore when I got back to civilization and was actually feeling quite a bit better now, or at least I was until my discovery.
I guess I am not surprised by Bev's unfaithfulness. She is self absorbed, almost narcissistic, just like her mother. She is gorgeous and flirtatious, men desire her, and she has opportunity to stray given my frequent travel. It is enough to give a husband pause.
No sense getting outraged or excited. Cheating spouses are an age-old story. They didn't put the warning against adultery in the ten commandments 2,500 years ago because it was a new concept. Nor is adultery exclusive to either sex - after all it takes one of each to make the affair work properly.
It might be fun to go in, raise Cain and make a scene, but that accomplishes nothing useful in the end. I now have hard intelligence about my wife's adultery. Question is how to best use it to my advantage?
I douse my truck lights, close the garage door, and slip away. The house is on a 3 acre lot at the end of a cul-de-sac. A large neighborhood lake is behind the house with a swampy creek exiting from the lake's dam and running in a ravine along the far side of my house and then swinging on the other side of the street in front of the house. This leaves my house fairly isolated. The garage is on the far end of the house by the ravine. It is unlikely the adulterous lovers or any nosy neighbors noted my arrival or departure.
While I belong to the hunting camp, I also enjoy my solitude. I bought a 5 acre parcel of land adjacent to the camp. My parcel includes a pond and a small, two-bedroom farmhouse which is where I stay. I hunt on the club's leased land and might go up to the main club area to shoot the shit with the guys and maybe have a beer. But generally, I enjoy my private time down at the farmhouse for my two-week escape from the world.
In the summer, Bev and some of her girl friends come out to swim in the pond and sunbathe. I get dragooned into fixing cocktails for the bathing beauties and frying catfish for lunch. It is pleasant duty as there is quite a bit of exposed feminine charm basking in the sun. Given the pond's remoteness, the girls sometimes get pretty daring in what they expose to Helios' tanning rays, to which, of course, I do not object.
Well tonight, I have a two hour ride back to hunting camp and my farmhouse to ponder my predicament and plan a course of action.
MY PREDICAMENT
In high school, I had been a straight-A student and a good baseball player. My family has a long military tradition, and I wanted to attend one of the U.S. military academies, VMI, or the Citadel. But Dad was quite ill, so I accepted a baseball scholarship at the state university that was only about 50 miles from home. While I had been a standout player in high school and American Legion baseball, college was a big step up. I played but was just a solid, dependable utility player and no longer a star. It probably didn't help that I was an engineering major with a heavy academic load. I had gone as far as I was going with baseball but did excel in my studies.
This was the Vietnam era so I planned to do my part and joined Army ROTC. After college graduation, I went into the Army as an infantry second lieutenant. Nine months later I was in the Mekong Delta with the 9th Infantry Division. For two months, I was assistant battalion S-3 and then was assigned as a rifle platoon leader. Turns out I had the touch for leading men in combat, accomplishing the mission, killing the enemy, and keeping my men as safe as possible. I was wounded once in the left arm and back by grenade fragments. The wounds were minor; nothing compared to what some poor devils suffered. I was back in the field within 10 days and embarrassed to get a purple heart for those minor wounds given what some of the other guys suffered.
Following my Vietnam tour, I was assigned to Ft. Benning to train soldiers headed to the War. After fulfilling my service obligation, I used my GI bill to get an engineering masters degree from the University of Texas. This along with my veteran's preference landed me a job with a NASA laboratory in Bev's hometown.
Bev was a Vietnam War widow. Her husband had been an Air Force Academy graduate who was shot down and killed over North Vietnam on his twelfth mission. No body was recovered. He and Bev had been married eighteen months.
Mary, a woman scientist in my group, had gone to college with Bev and introduced me to her at a party. Mary is a born matchmaker, and she hectored me to ask Bev out.
I was smitten from the beginning. Bev was a stunning beauty, bright, and flirty. But she was far out of my league. I had never been a Romeo and had only dated sporadically and without great success. I never had a serious girlfriend - too busy with baseball, academics, or soldiering to indulge in such niceties of civilized life. Nevertheless, Bev responded warmly to my wooing - though I am sure she found my awkward tries amusing. Five months later, we were married. That was four years ago now.
I always wondered why a beauty like Bev would pay attention to, much less marry, me. Louisa, an older secretary at work, gave me the inside female scoop as she explained, "John, we have a shortage of good marriageable men in these parts. There are plenty of rednecks, hayseed farmers, slobs, drunks, dope-heads, used-car salesmen, self-absorbed jackasses, dweebs, morons, and no-counts around. But you are a smart guy, have a good job with a lot of future potential. You are a war hero which doesn't hurt with the girls around here. Wouldn't cut any mustard up north or out on the west coast, but it is pure gold with the girls down here. Your Momma taught you manners to boot. You are a good looking ex-athlete and ex-soldier which will put any healthy girl to salivating. Shoot, if Bev hadn't scooped you up so quick, I have a pretty niece off at college I was going to introduce you to when she comes home this summer."
Southern women in that era did analyze the world differently from their men.
Like most men, I fell in lust with the exterior packaging and forgot to check under the hood to see what made this model tick. There was nothing wrong, but there was nothing really right either. Bev and I get along, do things together, sex is great, take trips ... but we are very different people. She is a socialite. She spends her days at the country club playing tennis and golf with friends, loves parties, and immerses herself in the general swirl of the social fabric of a small Southern city. I am more of a loner, like to read, enjoy my technical work which is of no interest to the general public, and travel often for work. Nothing is wrong, but things just are not quite clicking either.
Bev is the spoiled, only daughter of the best lawyers in town, a woman who values the comforts and privileges money can buy, and a lady with fierce pride. Any divorce from her would be contentious and very expensive. But if I can clearly prove adultery, I can dictate the terms of the divorce and have a quiet, quick settlement. I'll just write this marriage off to experience.
PREPARATION
First thing the next morning, I returned to town. The bank was open Saturday morning so I transferred all of our money to new accounts. I canceled credit cards that were in Bev's name and transferred all mutual funds to new accounts. That took care of what I could do on the financial end of the approaching storm. I figured Bev would be busy with her lover and not out and about to discover what I had done.
Next, I stopped by to see a lawyer I met playing softball in a church league. He was a Vietnam vet too and glad to help out. He gave me a quick briefing over a couple cups of coffee at his house. Without making the adultery stick, I would pay dearly for my freedom in this state. He also warned me that Bev's parents would be tough opponents in a divorce fight. He explained her parents were both tough, fierce, legal geniuses. I made an appointment for 8:00 o'clock Monday at my friend's office to get the official battle under way.
My next stop was the library where I did some reading on state divorce laws and proof of adultery requirements. Based on this research and what my lawyer friend told me, essentially I have to prove Bev's inclination and opportunity to commit adultery. I don't have to have a picture of them in flagrante delicto, though that certainly would be the icing on the cake. However, now that I have knowledge of the adultery, I also have to be careful to do nothing that Bev could claim condoned the adultery. Hence, returning home and pretending like everything was hunky-dory was not a wise option. I realized that it was better to act now rather than later.
I went by "Bo's Army-Navy Store." Bo was a Korean War vet and collected all kinds of military things. His store was a veritable museum of military artifacts. In a back room, he kept a variety of neat military toys that the authorities frowned on civilians owning. But to Bo, they were treasures. I bought a few items and spent the obligatory hour drinking coffee with Bo and swapping war stories.
Finally, I stopped by to see Jan, the wife of my best friend in town. Her husband, George, and I had played college baseball together and both ended up working at the lab. I ran George out of the room so I could talk with Jan privately.
With some arm-bending, I persuaded her to make two short recordings on my tape player for me. She's a smart gal and quickly deduced the circumstances of my request and asked very probing questions. I pled the fifth, put a guilt trip on her over our longtime friendship, swore her to secrecy, and promised to explain everything in a few days.
I had missed lunch and was starving so I grabbed a bite at Applebee's and thought through my plan for the evening. I would have liked a drink but stuck with coffee to keep a clear head.
GETTING IN POSITION
I headed out and arrived at the edge of the woods on the opposite bank of the lake from my house a bit after 4:30. As the sun set, I eased through the gathering gloom down into the ravine, crossed the stream, and slipped into the woods along the lake shore. I emptied my bladder down in the ravine woods as nothing is worse than laying in an ambush or an observation post and needing to pee.
I settled into a thicket of red buckeye on the edge of our yard, maybe 50 feet from the house. I was dressed in hunting camouflage (normal local male attire around here this time of year), and in the gloom I was well concealed. I had binoculars and a clear view into the kitchen window and the back screened porch but not much else.
About 5:30 Bev appeared in the kitchen and puttered around working on supper. A few minutes later, Ted appeared carrying drinks for them. Looks like martinis with a couple of olives were the beverage of choice tonight. They had an animated conversation for a few minutes, and then Ted left and reappeared on the porch. He fired up my grill and went back into the kitchen for some smooching on my wife. After a bit of fun, she shooed him off with a platter of steaks.
Ted returned with the cooked steaks, and they engaged in happy and lively banter and teasing as they fixed their plates. All-in-all, it was a very pleasant Rockwellian scene. Only problem was that it was my wife and my house but another man enjoying them both.
The naughty couple disappeared from the kitchen, no doubt off to enjoy their steaks in the dining room. I slipped in the back door to the utility room using my key to unlock the door. Bev keeps the utility sliding panel door to the kitchen closed as the utility room is always too "untidy" to be in public view. I cracked the panel door open. I could hear Bev and Ted talking, and it seemed they were enjoying a romantic, candle-lit dinner in the dining room.
I continued into the garage where I deflated the right side tires of Ted's truck. I have an electric air pump under my workbench. I removed the pump's hose and stuck it in my backpack. Even if Ted thought to look for my pump, it would be useless now. His truck was temporarily marooned at my house, and his independent mobility was limited to his feet. Next, I checked the telephone in the garage, and it was working.
We have a butler's pantry that has doors into the utility room adjacent to the kitchen and into the dining room where Bev and Ted were enjoying their dinner. I eased into the butler's pantry from the utility room and scootched down next to the door into the dining room. I could hear the adulterers' conversation as clearly as if I was sitting at the table with them.
Ted was saying, "These are great steaks you picked out. I love this wine, too. I did not know John had any taste in wines. Always thought of him as the jock kind of guy swilling beer."
Bev laughed, "Oh, you misjudge John. After we were married, he found out I liked wine so he became quite the connoisseur to please me. Don't kid yourself, that boy is cracker jack smart. I heard yesterday through the girl grapevine at the Club that he is a shoo-in for being sent back on the lab's PhD program next year. He doesn't know it yet. Sometimes John can be clueless."
Well, at least that is some good news, I thought.
"Where do you think he will go?" Ted asked.
"University of Texas again, I suspect. There is a professor out there that he really likes, and they stay in touch," my wife replied.
"Will you go with him?"
"To Austin? Do I look like a cowgirl to you? It's only a year for course work and then doing the dissertation back at the lab. I'll stay here and keep house like a good little housewife," Bev laughed.
"That could be a very exciting year for you without a resident husband. Does he suspect you cheat on him?"
"John? No, he is just a simple country boy, bless his heart. I make sure to keep him fully entertained in bed, and he is absorbed in his work which is way beyond anything I understand. Between his work ethic and travel, I can easily indulge myself when I want male variety in my sex life."
"I look forward to next year," Ted gushed oilily. "But I won't be alone, will I?"
My wife laughed. "Of course not, Ted. I enjoy a smorgasbord not a diet. Do you realize I have been screwing you longer than John?"
Ted said with amusement, "I guess, that is true."
Bev laughed harder, "Oh Lord, do you remember that time my parents came home early and caught us naked and going at it on the sofa? I thought Daddy was going to have a stroke."
Ted ruefully joined in the laughter. "Do I ever. I had only been working for your parents about a year then. There I was screwing their married daughter right in their living room. Your husband had just shipped out to Vietnam the week before, as I recall. I was sure I was about to be fired, if not shot."
"Oh, you would have been, but Mom intervened and saved your bacon."
"I knew there had been some miracle."
Bev continued, "Pour me some more wine, and I'll tell you the rest of the story."
A minute later, my chuckling wife continued her tale. "The next day Mom took me to lunch at the Club. There she gave me a graduate course in adultery. Pointed out my mistakes that got us caught, explained the laws concerning adultery, emphasized that discretion and careful planning were necessary to avoid detection, and told me a bunch of techniques and good places for clandestine trysts."
"You have gotta to be kidding?" Ted exclaimed.
"Nope. Turns out Mom had been cheating on Daddy since before they were married and had it down to a science. Said her mother was the same way. Can't believe that of Grandma; she always seemed such a forbidding and stern old lady. It's hard to imagine her flipping up her skirts for every man that caught her fancy. Anyway, it seems I am the latest in a long family line of serial adulteresses. I think the women in may family just like variety and get off on the risk and naughtiness of it."
"That is quite a family legacy."
I could hear the amusement in Bev's voice as she asked, "Okay, Ted, I have to ask. Have you ever screwed Mom."
"Um, do I really have to answer that?"
Bev laughed, "No. I can guess the answer. I am sure your early junior partnership status was earned by the sweat of your brow between my Mom's legs."
"There may be some truth in that," was Ted's strangled reply.
"Ah, so you have enjoyed screwing the mother and daughter while cuckolding my father, my late husband, and now my present husband. My, my what a depraved creature you are. No wonder we get along so well!"
I have certainly learned a great deal about my wife this evening. I never had a clue.
Bev continued her inquisition. "So, how about your wife? Is Charlie suspicious? You know she and I went to high school and college together and even roomed together for a while. She is a smart gal, a whole lot smarter than you. I was always amazed she married you. As I recall, you screwed me the day of your wedding, which was what, five years ago?"
Ted gave a somber reply. "Ah, things have been a bit tense at home lately. Yes, Charlie is suspicious, but I am careful and not as, uhm, active as you are."
Ted went on, "I am thinking the future of my marriage with Charlie is not promising. But I have to be smart how to get out of it with my skin intact in this state."
I had met Ted's wife Charlie, well, Charlene really, a number of times at parties and at the Club. She was attractive and, as Bev said, very smart. Often, a pretty woman's intelligence gets overlooked because of her looks. But if you talked to Charlie, it was clear right away that she was one very smart cookie. I always enjoyed her company.
"How about you? Are you going to stay with John?"
"Oh heavens, yes," Bev replied. " He is just what I want in a husband. I actually do love him; I'm just not faithful to him. We talk about having kids eventually. He is marvelous genetic material for that and would be a great father. No, he's a keeper."
Ted observed, "Bev, you like the finer things in life. I always envisioned you marrying a rich man not a government research engineer. You need someone to keep you in the style to which you are accustomed."
"Well, John does well enough. Mom and Dad are rich and give me money; they have always been good about spoiling their only daughter. Then there is Grandma and Grandpa's trust fund they left me. It all goes together to make a nice financial package."
I always suspected my in-laws gave Bev money. But the trust fund, now that was news.
Bev changed the topic, "All of this talk of adultery is making me horny. The wine and steaks are gone. I'll take the plates to the kitchen. You pour us some cognac."
Damn, I wish they would quit drinking my good stuff.
I heard Bev scrape the plates into the trash can and put them in the sink as I slipped back to the utility room. Ted reappeared in the dining room with two glasses of my cognac, and he and my wife enjoyed a long, probing kiss as I watched through the cracked door. Ted's hands were taking liberties with my wife's body, but she didn't seem to mind.
When they broke the kiss to get some air, Bev gasped, "Let's go in the den and finish our cognac. They left headed out of sight toward the den.
I could hear some faint moans and happy groans coming from the den, but the adulterers were outside my vision. About twenty minutes later, my wife and Ted, both naked now, hurried down the hall, which I could see, to our master bedroom. Soon there was a cacophony of laughter and happy squeals emanating from our bedroom. The adulterous lovers were hard at work enjoying each other.
EXECUTION
It was now H-Hour and time to move.
I went into the garage and made my first phone call. The phone rang twice, and then Charlie came on the line. "Hello?"
I played Jan's first recording into the phone. "Hello Charlie. This is a friend. Ted is having an affair with Bev. You will find them both at her house now."
"What," was Charlie's spluttered reply.
I hung up and called the fire department dispatch office. The phone was answered on the first ring, and I played Jan's second recording. "Come quickly. The house at 8 Magnolia Drive is on fire. Smoke is pouring out of it, and there are people inside." I hung up as soon as the recording finished.
I had to move quickly. I probably had no more than about five or six minutes before the fire department and Charlie showed up at the front door.
I switched on a tactical red-light flashlight I had bought at Bo's Army-Navy store. I grabbed the metal trash can from the garage and placed it in the kitchen. Then I hustled to the front door and flipped on the entrance porch and garage exterior lights, and ran back to the den. In a moment of inspiration, I grabbed my wife and Ted's scattered clothes and dumped them in the utility room. I pulled a gas mask, also from Bo's, out of my knapsack and donned it. Damn, that military training doesn't leave you. The mask went on and was cleared well within the military standard 9 seconds.
Next I popped two smoke grenades and a canister of CS tear gas and dropped them in the metal trash can. The tear gas was from Bo's unofficial and illegal stash of military toys. With my tasks done, I retreated to the utility room to wait.
Out of petty spite, I pulled Ted's driver's license and credit cards from his wallet and pocketed them. I would destroy them later just to cause Ted the pain of being without and having to replace them. He was screwing my wife right down the hall there, so a little pettiness on my part seemed justified.
The smoke grenades and tear gas canister hissed and billowed out a dense cloud of smoke and tear gas, quickly filling the kitchen, and then the cloud poured over into the adjacent dining room and den. Military tear gas is actually an aerosol dispersion of fine powder and not a true gas. Regardless of that fine distinction, the smoke alarm in the kitchen began blaring, and the one at the hall entrance going to the bedrooms followed suit rapidly.
The screeching alarms elicited surprised cries from my wife and Ted. I heard them rushing down the hall from the bedroom.
My wife cried out, "Something is on fire in the kitchen."
They made it as far as the kitchen door before the tear gas hit them. One moment they were fine and rushing forward to put out a fire. The next moment, they were doubled over gasping and coughing, and screaming in pain as they rubbed their eyes, worsening the burning. Snot ran freely. Tear gas is a mean and merciless foe.
Ted cried out, "The smoke is poisonous, get out, get out." He gallantly pushed my wife towards the front door. "I'll grab our clothes."
During the Vietnam-era draft, Ted had some bogus exemption so he had never been in the military. Consequently, he did not recognize the tear gas effects, as would any military veteran.
I heard Ted struggling around in the smoke-filled den futilely trying to find their clothes that were now piled up in the utility room next to me. Within a few seconds the tear gas proved too much, and he followed my wife in the dash out the front door.
I heard the fire department sirens in the distance and hurried to the den. I quickly scattered my wife and Ted's clothes about the den again. I tossed my wife's panties to hang from the top of the ceiling chandelier for good measure. It would take a ladder to get Bev's panties down.
The first fire truck lights were strobing through the front window so it was time for me to be gone.
I ran back to the kitchen, putting on insulated gloves, and grabbed the metal trash can with the smoke and tear gas canisters. I went out the utility room rear door, locked it behind me, and ran into the woods. As I passed the lake, I paused to throw the still smoking smoke-grenades and tear gas canister as far out into the lake as I could and then ran back to my truck. It was only eight o'clock now. I then drove back to the hunting camp, throwing the metal trash can in a dumpster on the way out of town.
THE FINALE
Unfortunately, I could not be out front of my house to watch the results of my Machiavellian machinations so the following was relayed to me later by others who were present. I could only enjoy the events vicariously.
The fire department and Ted's Charlie arrived simultaneously, followed by a growing throng of curious neighbors attracted by the sirens and lights. The tear gas tinged smoke was pouring out of the open front door. The exterior lights that I had turned on illuminated the freakish scene. My wife was on her hand and knees gagging. Ted was bent over next to her with his hands on his knees taking deep breaths. Both were naked as newborns.
Charlie strode over to Ted, who straightened up as she approached. Without saying a word she kicked him in the balls. This elicited a scream of pain from him and a collective gasp from the watching crowd of neighbors. Ted collapsed groaning on the ground next to Bev.
Charlie stood over him and let loose a stream of invective that one would never expect a poised Southern lady like her to know. A fireman grabbed Charlie and moved her away from Bev and Ted, who were both still gasping and coughing and crying. Charlie continued to flay Ted verbally from a distance. A deputy sheriff arrived to take charge of keeping Charlie and Ted apart.
One group of firemen worked their way in the front door looking for the source of the smoke. Another team went around back and broke into the utility room rear door to approach the fire from another direction. Because of the dense smoke, the firefighters were wearing breathing apparatuses so they were unaware the smoke cloud contained tear gas.
A second fire truck arrived along with two more sheriff's department cars. My neighbors were getting an eyeful. Somewhere along the way, some kind Samaritan brought Bev and Ted blankets to cover their public nakedness.
By pure good luck, the local TV station had a crew filming the aftermath of a wreck on the highway about two miles from my house. They were wrapping up when they heard the fire department and police calls on the scanner about my house fire. They shot right over to join the party in my front yard.
There were probably 50 or so neighbors all standing around gawking. The TV morning news the next day had a great sequence showing the crowd watching the smoke billowing out of the house as fireman came and went. Best of all, they showed a shot of my wife and Ted wrapped up in blankets staring blankly at the smoking house.
Finally, one of the fireman came out and said to the scene commander, "There is no fire. There is a lot of very acrid smoke, but we cannot find any fire. Jim Bob is checking the attic now, but nothing is scorched or burnt that we can see."
The scene commander suggested Ted and Bev not stay in the house until it was thoroughly checked out for electrical or gas problems.
Bev said, "I will go to my parents" Ignoring our neighbors and their offers to help, Bev went inside, quickly dressed in the bedroom, and left in her BMW.
Ted nodded and said, "Think I will go to the Holiday Inn."
The scene commander added dryly, "That is probably wise."
Ted was slower than Bev as he had to recover his scattered clothes. As he tried to back his truck out of the garage, he found out about the two flat tires. His truck was stranded half-in and half-out of the garage. One of the neighbors finally took pity on him and dropped him at the Holiday Inn.
There he discovered he had no credit cards and only twenty-five dollars in cash. He called Bev who gave the Holiday Inn clerk her credit card over the phone only to discover her credit card was canceled. Bev's Dad finally had to step in and give his personal card over the phone before Ted could get a room for the night.
My wife and her lover were very unhappy people.
THE NEXT MORNING
I returned straight to hunting camp and went to bed. The next morning I was up before dawn and out on a remote deer stand. I took time to bury the gas mask, flashlight, and gloves deep in the woods. After that, I dawdled and did not return to the farmhouse until almost one o'clock. Sure enough there was a stranger sitting on my front porch. He was a lean, older man with grizzled gray hair.
As I walked up, the stranger said, "Hi, you must be John."
"I am," I replied.
"John, my name is Jimmy. I am an arson investigator for the fire department."
I looked at him quizzically.
He continued, "Strange thing happened last night at your house. There was a fire."
I interrupted, feigning concern, "Was Bev hurt? How bad is the damage?"
"No, no, everybody is fine. Funny thing about this fire, though. There was a heap of smoke, but even looking this morning in the daylight, we can find no evidence of a fire."
"Smoke, but no fire? I am not sure I understand." I answered, trying to seem confused.
Jimmy sighed. "Me neither. Been doing this twenty years and never seen anything quite like it."
I just stood there looking suitably perplexed.
"Did I mention your wife and neighbor, Ted, were flushed out in their altogether by the smoke. Flushed right out in front of the whole neighborhood, fire crews, sheriff's department, and TV reporters, not to mention Ted's wife."
I shook my head. "No, you failed to mention that, " I said, suppressing a grin.
"You don't seem to be surprised your wife's hanky panky with your neighbor."
It was my turn to sigh. "Well, if you saw my wife in the buff, you know she is a beautiful creature. Any husband with such a wife knows there is always a chance she will have a dalliance when his back is turned. Sad but a fact of life."
Jimmy nodded, "Yeah, ain't that the truth. What's that old song say, ... something like 'If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.' Reckon there is something to that."
"Seems to be some wisdom in it," I agreed.
"Funny thing about your wife and Ted's symptoms. Sure seems like they got into some tear gas. The fire crew said the smoke was pretty tough."
"Tear gas, huh. Doesn't seem very likely."
"Yeah, it is illegal to have in this state unless you are police or military."
I did not make any reply.
"You know, only you and Ted's wife, Charlie, have any incentive to do something like smoke two naked adulterous spouses out into public view with tear gas. Pretty interesting plan."
I replied slowly, "Well, I have been here at hunting camp since Friday afternoon."
Jimmy ignored my proffered alibi and continued, "Talked with Charlie this morning before I came out here. Shew, that gal is a fire cracker, ain't she?"
"Yes, she certainly is," I agreed.
"Charlie says she had doubts about her husband's fidelity but knew nothing definite. Says she got a call from a woman saying her husband was at your house with your wife. Youngish sounding woman, maybe in her twenties or so, Southern accent, good diction so probably well educated. But Charlie did not recognize the voice. This call was just before the so-called fire. It allowed Charlie, and the rest of your neighborhood, to arrive just as your naked wife ran out the house."
Jimmy waited to see if I had a comment. I did not; so he continued, "Now, if Ted, or your wife for that matter, had been shot, stabbed, or poisoned, Charlie would be high on everyone's list of suspects as the perpetrator."
Jimmy pursed his lips thoughtfully, "But this operation, it was smooth, carefully planned to each tiny detail, and executed precisely. Charlie ain't that kind of women. Shoot, she'd just haul off and stab you in the front, eyeball-to-eyeball. And then she'd twist the knife. She's not the type of gal to waste time maneuvering to stab you in the back."
"Yeah, I can see that," I concurred.
"But you. Humph - smart, military background, effective combat leader, engineer. You, on the other hand, are exactly the kind of person who would know how to do this. How to plan it, and then really pull it off."
I shrugged my shoulders. "What can I say. I was up here at the camp hunting."
Jimmy smiled tiredly. "Oh yeah, your alibi. I stopped by the main camp before coming to see you. The gossip line in this county is unbelievable; they all knew everything about this whole affair. They all swear they have seen you around camp off and on all weekend. In fact, Henry swears it was about eight o'clock last night when he was sure you two were drinking a beer together. Eight o'clock just happens to be about when the so-called fire started.
Jimmy gave a big sigh. "John, you got some good friends, and they really like you. But please tell them for me, they don't lie worth a damn."
He went on, "Interestingly, the fire department dispatch that got the call about your house fire said it was a woman that called them too. Their description of the woman sounded just like Charlie's caller. In both cases, the woman said her piece, didn't anser questions, and hung up. Could almost make one think they were recordings."
Jimmy watched me for a minute, then continued his monologue, "You know I can do some tests, and I am sure I will find tear gas residue in your house. I can fill out a bunch of paperwork and get what number called Charlie and the fire department last night - that might be interesting. This morning, I found a man's footprints down by the lake back of your house - about your size, I'd say. Suspect if I drug the lake, I would find some tear gas canisters. Bet if I make the rounds of Army-Navy surplus stores, I might find a record of interesting recent purchases. Not tear gas of course, as that is illegal. But maybe things like a gas mask that would be useful for this."
Man, this Jimmy is nobody's fool, I thought to myself. I'm an amateur dealing with a grandmaster.
Jimmy stood up and stretched. "But money is tight these days. I got a whole shit-load of cases to investigate. There was no property damage; nobody was injured; it's your property, anyway. It'd take a passel of government lawyers a month of Sundays to just figure out what crime, if any, was committed. Reckon there is not much sense in wasting money and time on this."
Jimmy sighed deeply, "But I would just hate for someone to think they got away with something when they didn't. Well, I got a long drive back to town; better get started."
I called out as Jimmy headed to his car, "Thanks, Jimmy; message received 5 out of 5."
Jimmy turned and smiled, recognizing the old military radio terminology. "It was a good plan, Captain. Mission accomplished. Now, don't waste any more time on her. Git on with your life."
Jimmy got in his car and headed back to town.
EPILOGUE
I quickly packed up my gear and started back to my house. Hunting season was over for me this year.
I stopped by to give George and Jan the explanation, I had promised her for making the recordings for me. They had seen the TV clip of the fire that turned out not to be a fire. They recognized Bev but not Ted and had easily put the obvious two and two together. It took a while to satiate Jan's curiosity and thirst for every detail. George just sat there shaking his head and laughing occasionally. I thanked Jan again for her help and went on home, not relishing having to deal with Bev soon.
When I got home I found Ted had retrieved his truck somehow and the phone's message light was blinking. Bev had called about every hour on the hour starting at seven am. The messages were essentially, "John, I am at my parents' house. Call me as soon as you get this." As the day wore on, she was more irritated and expressions like "Damn, it John where are you," "We need to talk,"and "Please, talk to me before you do anything," started being added to the recorded messages. I really didn't feel like dealing with Bev right now so I ignored the messages.
I had missed lunch again and was looking in the refrigerator contemplating possibilities for a sandwich when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and found Charlie standing there with a wry smile. Charlie is usually a very put-together and chipper lady. Today, she just looked tired and worn out.
She said, "Hi, John. By now, I suppose you know everything about last night?"
"I do," I replied.
"Good, then I don't have to explain it again." She smiled which made her look more like her normal self. "We are in the same boat, you and I. Invite me in and offer me a drink. We have a lot to talk about."
"Come on in, Charlie. What would you like to drink?" Somehow Charlie's brash self-invitation was a lift to my doldrums.
"How about a glass of wine?" she replied.
"White or red? I have an Italian Pinot Grigio or an Oregon Pinot Noir."
"How about the Pinot Grigio."
"Grab a seat in the den, I'll bring you your wine."
I heard giggling from the den. When I joined her with the wine, I found Charlie smiling as she stared at Bev's panties still hanging on the chandelier. Bev's other clothes from last night were still scattered on the floor.
"Are those Bev's?" she chortled pointing at the panties.
I nodded.
Charlie laughed, took her wine, and sat down. "Are you going to leave them there. Sort of a permanent decoration or trophy or something." Then she added more sadly, "Maybe at this point, it is more like a monk wearing a hair shirt for self flagellation."
Charlie sighed, and her temporary good mood was gone. "How long have you known about them?"
"Since Friday night when I came back from hunting camp early and found Ted's pickup in the garage. Did you know or suspect anything?"
Charlie shook her head sadly. "Well at least you are only 24 hours ahead of me in the learning process. I suspected Ted of cheating starting about a year after we were married, but I never had any real proof. Or even enough to do much more than make me wonder if I was paranoid. Obviously, my instincts were correct."
"I am afraid so," I added.
"You know Bev and I have been close friends since high school. I just can't believe she, of all people, would screw my husband."
Charlie paused for a minute and then continued with a cynical laugh. "Actually, I guess I should not be surprised. How much do you know about your wife and her cheating?"
"Since Friday, I have learned some but probably only know the tip of the iceberg."
Charlie smiled sadly, "Well, Bev has always been a cheat. Even in high school and college. She cheated on her pilot husband, even while he was flying combat in Vietnam. And she cheated on you - probably every time you went out of town. I think Bev gets turned on by the danger and thrill of it, the flaunting of convention, eating the forbidden fruit, or something like that. She can't seem to help herself."
Charlie turned to look directly at me. "Are you going to take her back?"
"No, I have an appointment with a lawyer at eight tomorrow morning."
Charlie looked relieved. "Good. One reason I came to talk to you was to tell you she won't change. You deserve better from a wife. You have her nailed for adultery, don't waver. She is a gorgeous woman and can twist men around her little finger." Charlie shook her finger at me for emphasis, "But don't you dare take her back."
I smiled at my lecturing neighbor. "I won't. Believe me. How about you, Charlie? Are you taking Ted back?"
"No way, I would castrate him if I could get away with it."
I smiled thinking back to what Jimmy had said earlier at the camp about Charlie's fierceness.
"Would you like to go with me tomorrow morning and see my lawyer. We have essentially the same case. Probably makes sense to use the same lawyer."
Charlie smiled, "You are running faster than I am. Yes, I would love to go with you. Let's get this thing rolling."
"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at 7:30," I offered. "The appointment is at eight."
"Deal." There was a pause and Charlie switched topics. "John, this whole affair Saturday night was bizarre. The arson investigator talked with me. I think his name was Jimmy or something like that. Saturday night was no accident was it? Were you behind it all?"
I thought for a minute. There was no longer any legal threat from Jimmy. Charlie was now an ally in the pending divorce wars. Why not? So I laid out the events in detail which elicited hoots of laughter in places. It felt good to share the tale with someone. There is no fun in pulling off a tough operation and not being able to brag about it afterwards. To brag to an admiring, pretty woman just makes it that much better.
When I got to the parts about Bev and Ted's histories of infidelity, Charlie was incredulous. "He was screwing Bev's Mom to get promotions. Amazing, but typical, I guess. ... Bev's Mom and Grandmother were screwing around too! I know both of them. Well, at least I thought I did. ... Bev's Mom gave Bev advice on how to commit adultery. I just can't believe it."
When I told Charlie about Ted's screwing Bev on their wedding day, Charlie erupted. "The part you didn't know was Bev was my maid of honor. Damn her soul to Hell."
Our therapeutic bitch session had done us both good and buoyed our spirits. It was a cathartic experience, and we forged a new friendship as we shared our woes. We also had consumed the whole bottle of wine which probably didn't hurt either.
The phone rang. "Bev, no doubt," I said with a grimace.
Charlie replied, "She won't stop. Might as well deal with her now as later."
I picked up the phone and put it on speaker so my new divorce ally could hear. I said neutrally, "Hello."
"John, I have been desperate to find you. I will be right over. We need to talk, Sweetie."
"Bev, there is nothing to talk about. Don't come over."
"Look, John, I can explain. I have a lot to answer for, Honey. But ...
"Bev, you are a cheat. Why continue the farce? We are done."
Charlie gave me a thumbs up.
"Look, John. Please, I know you are mad." bev cooed in a placating voice, "And you have every right to be mad. I will make it up to you. Let me come over and explain. We'll go to counseling. We can make this work."
"No. I am seeing a lawyer tomorrow. We are finished. You go your way, and I'll go mine. No recriminations."
Another thumbs up from Charlie.
Since wheedling and pleading hadn't worked, Bev switched gears as smoothly as a Porsche pulling into the passing lane. She went on the attack, "Alright, you sorry son of a bitch, Daddy will represent me. He is the best lawyer in the state. He will tear your lawyer a new asshole."
I calmly replied, "Your Father is a very good lawyer. However, does he know about your Mom's long history of adultery? Your Mom and Ted for instance?"
There was dead silence on the phone for maybe 30 seconds. "You bugged our home," she screeched.
"No, I did not bug the house."
"There is no other way you ..." It dawned on her now. "You sorry peeping Tom you were in the house eavesdropping on us. You set the whole thing up. You, you son-of-a-bitch. Damn you."
She gasped with realization, "You threw my panties on the chandelier. I know I left them on the end table. I had to walk naked wrapped in a blanket in front of those snickering firemen with my panties dangling over their heads. Damn your sorry soul; you humiliated me in front of the whole town."
I replied calmly, "No, Bev, you humiliated yourself in front of the whole town. You and Ted even made the morning TV news, I hear."
The fight went out of her. I held the winning hand and was not blinking. She said, "Have your lawyer contact Daddy. At least we can be civilized about this." Then she hung up.
Charlie laughed and melodiously sang out:
"You've got to know when to hold'em
Know when to fold'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run."
Then Charlie said wistfully, "Wow, I hope Ted is as reasonable. I am sure he won't be. Of course, I will be taking him to the cleaners. Well, I need to get home. My Mom is coming over to see how I am doing."
"How are you doing?" I asked.
"Better, much better. Thanks for talking with me."
I walked Charlie to the door and opened it for her. She turned, stood up on her toes, and kissed me. Slowly at first, and more intimately as I returned her kiss.
She broke the kiss finally and said , "Whew, I have wanted to do that since I first met you. Want to come over for supper tomorrow night?"
"Certainly," I replied.
"How many times do you guess they screwed each other?" Charlie asked.
"I don't really know; a lot from the way they were talking."
"Well then, I guess we better get started tomorrow night evening the score. Come prepared to work for your supper." With that, Charlie walked to her car with that sassy sashay that only women can do.
