[Ramesh_Rocky]

She smiled and her lips with some kind of purple-ish gloss or lipstick resembled bruised fruit. I suddenly knew how Dave could have fallen so fast.

“Every saint has a dark side, Bill. You can’t be that good, without having darkness to counter balance it. Your father died on you. He left you, for others. You loved him, but he deserted you. A little boy isn’t going to understand the complexities of duty and honor. All you knew was that he walked out on you and your mother.
“And Debbie was a slut who screwed other men before and while she was falling for you and then, finally, left you for another guy with a bigger dick than you. That had to hurt. She was gorgeous, and you were just an ordinary guy. You loved your children, as best you could. When it came down to it, they took their mother’s side against you. How did that make you feel. Not on the outside where you had to pretend to understand, but inside?
“After you are dumped and hurt by Debbie, you find another woman you think you love and she leaves to go back to her husband. Naturally, he’s taller and better looking than you and he’s cheated on her and hurt her, and yet she goes back to him instead of staying with the man that loves her.
“Why can’t you hold a woman, Bill? You’re thinner now, and you shaved off your hair for a new look, but underneath it, you’re still that middle-aged romantic loser that can’t hold a woman with his love, or his dick.”
She had cut my heart out with a few quick slashes, exposed every fear, every hurt that I had hidden where no one could see, I thought. I knew there were tears in my eyes, but I managed to smile at her.
“You’re good, and your investigators are better. That’s a lot of dirt to uncover in a few days. But, you know, Mrs. Donnally, despite the hard on you’ve given me, and despite you’re being so damned hot, I wouldn’t stick my dick in your diseased cunt if it was on fire and the only water in the world was between your legs.”
She smiled back.
“I hurt you, I know, but there’s a whole world of pain inside you, and there’s a part of you that wants to hurt back. I told you I wasn’t going to kill Paul and you’ll see that I’m right. When you do, I want you to remember this.”
She reached down and because my back was to the kitchen I didn’t think anyone could see what she was doing. She ran her fingers around and up and down my cock. It felt like the spidery touch of silk.
“You’re a good guy and I’m a very bad girl. Deep, deep down, you want me and I want you just that bad. I like control, but there’s a part of me that’s submissive at the same time. I will ALWAYS be available. I’m going to call your cell and leave a number that will always get through to me. Wherever I am,


whatever I’m doing...you can call me, and you can fuck me, and whip me, and hit me if you want. You can let that anger out...that hurt.
“Treat me the way you could never treat that miserable bitch Debbie, and I’ll take it. You can fuck me in the ass and make me suck you clean. You can tie me down. You can piss on me. You can do ANYTHING to me, and I’ll come back for more.”
Shit. I stood there and tried not to tremble as I came and came and squirted into my underwear. She looked down and smiled a little smile of triumph.
“You tell yourself you’re never going to call and maybe you won’t, Bill, but forever is a long time, and I think you will call me one day. I’ll be waiting.”
I made myself turn around, walk out of the restaurant and get into my car and start for the jail. I could have tried to clean up the still-liquid cum inside my underwear, but I let it stay. It’d dry. I just thought about the woman I’d walked away from. I had thought that Paul Donnally was about as scary a person as I’d ever run into.
But his wife was - I didn’t even have the words. I just tried to convince myself that when I found her message on my cell, I’d immediately delete it without looking at the number she’d leave. I would. I would.
OCTOBER 10, 2005 -- MONDAY - 6 P.M.
I sat down in a chair across from Paul Donnally’s cell. Red Butler was officially off duty but I’d asked him as a favor to hang around and he’d escorted me back to Donnally’s cell. Donnally was sitting on his cot, waiting for me.
“They told me the judge had dropped the million dollar bail and the charges have been dropped?”
“Yes to the bond. The original charges have been dropped and replaced by a simple assault. There’s a $5,000 bond, but it’s on your own recognizance so all you have to do is sign and walk out. I’ve already committed to cover for you, if you do skip the country and don’t come back. Whether you walk is up to you.”
“Why, Maitland? I told you why I wanted to stay in here. Despite everything, I don’t want to kill her and I can’t stand the thought of my kids’ lives after we’re both gone. How do you put your life back together after your father murders your mother and then takes his own life? They’d be scarred for life.”
I stood up and walked over to the cell bars. I motioned to Butler and he walked away. But there were still microphones recording.
“Letting you out is up to the discretion of my office. I’ve heard your story, and her story, and I don’t believe you should be behind bars. More than that...in my position you have to weigh things. I have to weigh keeping you in here to keep you from possibly hurting your wife against the prospect of bad things happening to other people if I keep you in here against my better judgment.


“This doesn’t just involve you and her. There are other people’s lives, and those lives can be damaged or destroyed if you remain behind bars on what I think is an unjustified charge of attempted murder.”
“Do I read you correctly, Maitland, that you want me to sign those papers and walk out the door of the jail? You think that would be the best thing for everybody?”
“Yes. I honestly do. I believe that you will find friends that will help you get your feet under you. I think you can walk back into your job because my office will make it clear that you face no formal charges and there will be no record of the arrest, other than you got into a domestic disturbance with your wife and security officer were called. The institution could dismiss you, but since the charges are being dropped and you will have no criminal record, I don’t see why you can’t walk back in.”
“But you, personally, want me to walk out of here?”
“I’m making a professional judgment, but, yes, I personally would feel guilty about keeping an innocent man behind bars.”
He rubbed his chin.
“You know what could happen?”
“I’m more aware of the possibilities than you are but I don’t think that hiding in here is going to make anything better.”
He got up and started collecting the paperbacks into a carrying bag that Tucker must have used to bring them into the cell. When he’d gotten them all and collected a toothbrush and some toiletries, he nodded at me.
Red Butler and I walked him to the desk where he received his personal effects, signed the bond papers and gave them to a woman representing the bonding agency which had its offices only two blocks away. I walked with him out to the back of the jail.
Gil Tucker lounged against the side of a black SUV in the parking lot a hundred yards away. He just looked at us standing on the raised bay that led to the entrance to the jail.
“You’re giving in to her blackmail?”
“I had to make a decision and I didn’t see any way around it. There are too many people—a husband and father and children - that would hurt badly if you didn’t walk out of here.”
“And you gave in to her? That doesn’t sound like the Maitland I’ve heard about.”
“If I knew—for a certainty—that you were going to kill her, or that she was going to have you killed, no I wouldn’t be doing this, not even to save a friend. However, I’m not God and I can’t be sure what’s going to happen.”


I looked up into his dark eyes and I didn’t see the shadow that had passed behind them in Doug Baker’s office, or in the jail for a second.
“You don’t know what you’re letting loose, Maitland. You don’t know what I am. I am going to try to stay away from her, but I don’t know that I can keep her away from me. I’ve found out a few things this last month. She has a lot more money and a lot more power than I ever dreamed of. She’s not the woman I’ve lived with for 20 years. I think she will come after me, God only knows why, and when I face her again. ”
“Paul, I don’t know you. You and your wife, to be honest, are the strangest and scariest people I’ve run into—ever. But I know this. You’ve been a good, law abiding citizen for at least 20 years. You’ve raised two children. You’ve got friends who care for you. You were willing to give up your freedom to save your wife’s life.
“I don’t know what you did when you were a kid. I don’t know how bad it was, or how bad you were, but I know the Paul Donnally I’m looking at today. I’m looking at a man who was willing to sacrifice himself for his cheating wife and his children. I’m looking at a man with a friend willing to go to the wall for him. I don’t think a monster would do those things, or have a friend like Gil Tucker.”
I pointed to Tucker.
“Go with him and try to get your head straight. Get some professional help. Maybe you did get it years ago, but you obviously need some more help today. If you want, I’ve got a good man that probably could help. Call my office and I’ll give you his name and if I call him I think he’ll see you.
“Oh...and be careful. If you wind up meeting with her  make sure you have a
friend along. And make sure she knows you won’t meet her alone.” He just stared at me and then shook his head.

“No, even now, I won’t believe that. No matter how much she’s changed, she wouldn’t do that.”

I extended my hand and after a moment, he shook it. His handshake felt like a normal handshake.

“Good luck, Paul.”

He was walking toward Gil Tucker when I said, “You remember what you told me that day—in Baker’s office?”

He had looked back at me curiously.

“We always have a choice. You have a choice. I hope you make the right one.”

He nodded and I saw Tucker give him a bear hug and then wave at me.

They were gone and I prayed with everything in me that I never saw or heard the name Paul Donnally again. I wanted to pray the same thing about Paula

Donnally, but I couldn’t deny mixed feelings there.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

CHAPTER 17: WAITING FOR THE TSUNAMI


The day my father died was an ordinary Winter day. Nothing unusual I can remember through the mists of 34 years.
The day I walked into a storage room in the back of a house on Fraternity Row in Gainesville and found Debbie Bascomb being bangd started out with my oversleeping and scrambling to make it to a class. I was late. It was just another day.
The day Debbie told me we’d had some wonderful times “when we married” started with me worrying about a juror who’d developed sudden cold feet about the Nigel Thompson scumbag drug dealer child murder case. It was just another day.
The big days never come with a warning or an announcement. You only realize what they are afterward, when it’s too late.
OCTOBER 14, 2005 – FRIDAY - 7 P.M.
My name is William Maitland. I am the official second in command and unofficial lead prosecutor for the tri-county area of Duval, Clay and Nassau Counties in Northeast Florida. I prosecute bad people and try to clean up the messes they make in their own and other people’s lives.
For the past six months I’ve thought the mess I’ve made of my own life, over the past decade since becoming a prosecutor, was beyond redemption.
On the plus side I’ve escaped death, found out that casual sex doesn’t have to be meaningless sex, and that there really is a life beyond divorce. That last is a hard lesson that I’ve paid dearly to learn, but I’m beginning to believe there really are Second Acts in our lives.
I’ve looked into the heart of some terrible darknesses, not least of which is inside me. It’s getting harder to believe that I’m as moral and incorruptible as I once thought I was, but I tell myself that I am trying.
Right now, I am shivering a little as I walk out of the courthouse headed toward my Escalade parked down the street.
The weather in Jacksonville had swerved from unseasonably hot to chilly in the space of a week, as it was wont to do, and the temperature was already in the 50s and looking to fall into the 40s by the time it got dark. Alright, not that bad if you were a Yankee, but for an almost life-long Florida boy, it was chilly.
I had prepared, wearing a nice black turtleneck sweater over black slacks, dress black shoes, and the rest of the outfit that Dallas insisted I wear most of the time to keep the image up. I’d brought an electric razor to work with me and shaved just before I left. I reeked of cologne and didn’t think I needed a shower too badly.


I’d considered running by the condo for a quick shower, but I had a 7:30 p.m. date with Myra. While I knew she was a nice lady, I wasn’t sure how many more times I could stand her up without her getting a little peeved at me.
I should have left earlier, but there were always last minute critical things that needed doing. I was still trying to postpone Sutton’s murder one trial until Wilbur Bell slowly recovered in the hospital from a heart attack that, by all accounts, should have taken him out. Luckily he was a tough old bird and I wanted him to be able to walk into the courtroom for Sutton’s trial and testify that he had seen Sutton driving out of his mother’s Ocala home on the night that Sutton’s wife and unborn son had been murdered.
I had videotaped his testimony, but live testimony always trumped tape.
On another potential major case for me, the whole office was watching at long range the maneuvering to put the Mexican cartel warlord on trial. Nobody else had died lately, but there was an anticipation like the silence before a thunderstorm breaks. No one knew yet where the trial was headed as the feds deliberately kept their plans a deep dark secret.
On the distant horizon I watched the legal maneuvering to see where the trial of New York financial whiz kid Bobby Kelso would wind up, out of the glare of the New York City media world. It would be one of the biggest court events in years, wherever it ended up.
How often did you have a hotshot Wall Street financial whiz kid arrange for mob hits on his wife and her lover, only to change his mind at the last minute and save both their lives, while taking a bullet meant for her lover. However, a mob gunman had died after Kelso’s crisis of conscience, so the Money Man was being tried for Murder One because his plot had led to a man’s death during the commission of a crime. It was so perfect a media story with sex, love, big money, murder and the mob all mixed together. Television execs were probably having orgasms just thinking of the ratings they’d get covering his trial.
If it came to me I couldn’t even imagine how heavily the media would cover it - I’d probably have to live in the courthouse until the trial was over, but I really hoped that trial didn’t come to me. Although I was honestly worried about the cartel trial, I would have no problem sending a drug thug to his death. I would, however, have really serious misgivings about sending a man, whose wife had driven him over the edge and who yet had made the right choice in the end, to death row or lifetime imprisonment. Yes, I saw myself in him! I hadn’t tried to kill Debbie or Doug, but if things had gone differently...who knows?
I waited every day to hear a report of Paul Donnally’s body being discovered, or Paul and Paula being found somewhere in a murder/suicide. I didn’t know how I’d live with that if it turned out I’d made a very bad decision. So far, so good. They had both vanished back into comfortable anonymity, although I’d


called Gil Tucker one time and he said that Donnally was making it, day by day. He had never called Dr. Teller, but I held out hope that eventually he would.
As I slid into the Escalade I made a conscious effort to push all that out of my mind. In thirty minutes I’d, for the very first time, be walking up to Myra’s condo door and see what she looked like away from the courthouse. I still, even now, couldn’t see exactly what she saw in me. Strip away the fame from a devastated daughter’s throw-away remark after her father’s death and a reporter’s story that caught fire, and I was just another 42-year-old short, bald, divorced guy.
Whatever ‘it’ was, I was glad she saw it. Maybe if something – eventually – developed, she’d explain it to me. I was thinking of breasts, that smile and those green eyes when I heard the sudden wail of a security officer siren. I glanced in my rear view mirror to see flashing blue lights. What the hell! I looked at my speedometer and saw I was doing 60 in a 55 mph zone on I-295. There was no way that God could throw another road block in the path of my eventually meeting Myra somewhere away from both our courthouse identities.
I pulled over to the side of the road, leaving the motor running. Sometimes showing the State Attorney ID helped, not always but sometimes. The Jax deputy had barely stopped when he was out of the cruiser and striding quickly toward me. I started to get curious - this deputy wasn’t acting like a man making a traffic stop.
“Mr. Maitland?” “Yes?”
“Chief Martin says would you please – let me quote him – get your head out of your ass and turn your cell on.”
Someone up there hated me. I never turned my cell off, but this one time, one time in all the years I had worked for the State Attorney’s Office, I did. I figured one night off would not cause the world to stop turning, and the one time I try to get a little privacy, they send a cop out with flashers and sirens wailing to hunt me down. There was no justice.
I pulled it out of my pocket and punched the power button. As soon as the screen came to life the Cranberries’ “Linger” rang out and I hit the talk button.

“Maitland.”

“Martin, to what do I owe the pleasure? You realize that I left word with the office that Brandon was taking my calls tonight. I’m flattered that you guys can’t live without me, but unless the world is ending, I really am off the clock.”
“Did you hear about the murder this morning?”
“Which one? I know there was the guy that died in that drive-by over on Jammes and a guy’s body was found way off San Jose. Pretty busy day, but...”

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Jacksonville, while a wonderful place to live and no Detroit, was definitely the murder capital of the Sunshine State. I never had quite figured out how we could put Miami in the shade, murder wise, but my hometown had racked up more murders than any other metropolitan area. Of course, as a consolidated county we were a hell of a lot bigger geographically than most other major cities, but still, we were a pretty violent bunch.

Anyway, two homicides in a day was a pretty active tally, but there had been plenty worse since I’d been with the SA. Why was Martin calling me up, on my off time, about one murder?
“You get any of the details?”
“No, I heard we didn’t have an ID and this has been a busy day. I figured I’d hear about it sooner or later.”
“We put the clamps on this one early and we’ve been keeping quiet about it so we could do some checking before we released anything. The car was in a wooded lot behind that Wal-Mart shopping center, the one that hasn’t been developed yet. Some kids skipping college looked in it, then freaked and called their parents.”
“What was in it?”
“A dead guy, in his 30s, maybe early 40s. Hispanic, not badly dressed. The ME says he was probably dead a couple of days. He was more than likely killed elsewhere - then the body and the car were dumped there last night.”
“They come up with a cause of death?”
“The ME came up with a couple of contenders, but probably having his head sawed off didn’t help.”

“What?”

“He had a couple of bullet holes in him, and they’d tortured the hell out of him, but the ME figures he was still alive when they took his head off. Or at least started the process.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Not for that poor bastard anyway, They cut his head off and when they dumped the car they laid him down in the seat and put his head in the seat beside the body. Next to the plastic bag where they put his hands after they sawed them off.”
“Makes it sound like it wasn’t a run of the mill carjacking or robbery, definitely not somebody pissing off somebody else’s husband or boyfriend.”
“No, this was an outside job, a professional job.” “How do you know?”
“We had to go through the feds and then the Mexican federal security officer to get an ID, but we found out he was Cartel muscle. He worked with a partner we haven’t


found, but he’ll probably be fished out of the St. Johns, if the body ever turns up.”
“Cartel? THE Cartel.”
“Yeah, the Cartel whose Mendoza is going to be tried somewhere, if the feds can ever find a place to do it.”
I began to get a very bad feeling.
“Why did you have a cop pull me over to tell me this?”
“When we had the car searched, we found some bags with belongings in them. A couple of guns, some drug paraphernalia and some cocaine, apparently for recreational use, some cameras...and some photos.”
“What kind of photos.”
“We weren’t sure at first. There were some photos that appeared to have been taken at a college, and headshots of a kid. Then we found photos taken with a telephoto lens of the same kid, going to college, going around the college campus, getting into a private car. That’s what tipped us off.”
“Who was the kid?”
“We didn’t know who the kid was until we got a clear shot of the woman picking him up after college.”
“Who was he?”
“The woman picking him up was your ex-wife, Debbie. The boy was your son.”
He must have said something but I didn’t hear him. It was as if I standing at the far end of a very long, dark tunnel. I saw BJ, but I didn’t see him as the gangly adolescent he was. No, I saw him as a one-year-old toddler taking his first steps, holding onto a glass coffee table as he launched himself across the couple of feet between him and Debbie’s waiting arms. I saw her take him into her arms and I wished then with everything in me that my father could have seen him for even an instant.
“Mr. Maitland...”

The young cop pushed my arm. “Are you alright?”

I ignored him and listened to Martin on the cell.

“... one of our detectives who had been at a baseball game with his son when

you were there with your son recognized him. As soon as we knew, we tried to call you but you weren’t answering your phone. We tried to call Ms. Bascomb, but she had left her office and we can’t reach her. We don’t have numbers for your kids so we’ve got cruisers headed to your house right now.”
“You can’t reach Debbie?”
“Sorry no, we just started 15 or 20 minutes ago. She could be shopping and left her phone behind, or in the shower. It could be anything.”


I felt a sudden sharp pain in my chest. I knew it was psychosomatic. I’ve been afraid in my life, but I knew that any fear I’d ever experienced in my life was only the palest shadow of the emotion that was beginning to build in me. It was like looking out to sea and watching a tsunami build strength as it approached. I knew I had to start moving or I’d be paralyzed.
“I’m headed for my house, Martin. I’ll meet the units there. Send your guys and tell them to kill any son of a bitch that even looks suspicious to them anywhere around there.”
I clicked off and told the young deputy, “I’m going to be breaking every speed law you ever heard of. Give me a spare flasher and get behind me with your siren going.”
Thirty seconds later a blue light was flashing on the Escalade. I was hitting 60 going on 90 and on the way home – Debbie’s home – with a cop wailing behind me. As I drove one-handed, I hit her number on the cell. It rang endlessly...!
I gave up and dialed Roy Bascomb’s home phone. It ran four times and then Cathy picked up.

“Hello.”

“Cathy is Kelly there?” “Bill? Bill, what is it?” “Cathy, is Kelly there?” “No.”
“Where is she?”

“I think....I think she had a date. She wrote down a number for a girlfriend’s house. They were going to meet their boyfriends there and go out to a party.”

“Call the number, Cathy, NOW! Tell Kelly there’s an emergency. She needs to get back to you. Don’t let her tell you no, make her come back...NOW!”

“But...okay - but what do I tell her.”

“Don’t tell her anything. Just tell her to get back there. I’ll explain later. It’s an emergency and ask her if she has any idea where BJ is. Is Roy there?”

A moment later:

“Bill? What’s going on?” “Roy, do you have a gun?” There was a silence.

“Yes. I’ve got a .38 I always keep in my bedroom.”

“Get it out and go get Kelly if she needs a ride home. Make her come home. Call the cops. Tell them you’re my father-in-law and tell them they need to send some units to your place. Keep the place locked until you see uniforms, and don’t let them in until you see ID. And Roy, if anyone else shows up and tries to come in, kill them. Don’t warn them, don’t talk to them. Shoot them.”

[Ramesh_Rocky]

“Bill, what is happening?”

“I can’t explain Roy, not now. Just do it. Call the cops.”

I tried Debbie’s cell again, then the house phone. Images of the carnage in Texas invaded my mind and I couldn’t get the pictures out.

On the eighth ring I heard, “Hi. Bill, is that you?”

I felt like an iron collar had been released from around my throat and I could breathe again.

“Debbie, why haven’t you been answering your phone?” “Um....uh... I was in the tub.”

“For thirty five minutes or more?”

“Is that a crime now? Honestly, Bill-“

“I’m sorry, Deb. I didn’t – It’s just that I’ve been trying – we’ve been trying – to reach you for awhile.”
“Okay, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just - the kids are out - and believe it or not I’m not doing anything but watching some TV and eating ice cream. It’s been a long week so I took a long, hot, restful bath.”

“Debbie, listen to me carefully. Are the doors locked?” “Uh, yeah. Yes. Why?”

“Don’t ask questions. Is the Glock in the safe? Is it loaded?” “Yes.”

“Go straight to the safe but look around when you leave the bathroom. If you see or hear anything, if you even have a bad feeling, get back in the bathroom and lock the door. Put that chair in front of the mirror jammed up against the door and stay away from the door.”
“Bill....what. tell me what’s going on?”
“Just listen, it would take too long. If you think it’s okay and no one’s in the house, go straight to the safe and get the Glock. Go back in the bathroom but take a home phone and cell with you. If you see anyone other than a uniformed cop, or me, in the house, shoot to kill. Don’t hesitate. Even if it’s a cop, make them show ID.”
“You’re scaring the shit out of me.”
“Good, baby, good. I want to scare the shit out of you. Being scared could keep you alive. Now, where is BJ?”
“BJ? Bill?”
“Where is he?”
“He was going to go over to that Tommy Wilson’s house. They were going to hang out, maybe see a movie.”
There was a momentary twinge of....something. I didn’t recognize the name. It was a friend he’d made since I’d moved out of his life - just another reminder.


“Call the Wilsons. If he’s still there make sure he stays there and call me back. Tell him a security officer cruiser will be coming by to pick him up. Get the Glock, then call the Wilsons. If he’s there, call me back. Move as quick as you can.”

“Bill...”

“Don’t talk - MOVE.”

I hung up on her, then called Martin back.

“Send in uniforms at my place and my in-laws. I told them to shoot anybody but a uniform, and tell your guys to be ready to show their ID.”
“They should be at your ex’s house within a minute. Give me the in-law’s address and I’ll try to have somebody there in 15 minutes.”
I’d nearly been wiped out in accidents a half dozen times in the last several minutes, but the flashing lights and the sirens saved my ass several times as I approached San Jose and pulled off on the way to my – Debbie’s – house.
My cell rang and Debbie said, “I’ve got the Glock and a patrolman named Suggs is here. I’ve seen him in the courthouse and in the PD office. I let him and his partner in.”
“Let them do their thing but stay away from windows and you hold onto the Glock anyway. Have you had a chance to call the Wilsons?”
“No, I was just going...”
“Hang up and call them, Deb. The first second you get confirmation BJ’s there, call me back.”
The cell rang and Martin was saying, “Slow the hell down, Maitland. Rutledge says you’re hitting 90 and have nearly killed a dozen motorists. You’re getting ready to get onto residential streets. Our guys are there and no one is going to get at your ex. Don’t kill yourself getting there.”
I made myself take my foot off the gas and slowed to 60 and then 50 as I headed toward what had been my home. I even stopped for red lights.
The cell rang as I was approaching my former residence.
Cathy Bascomb said, “Roy is on his way to pick up Kelly. A security officer officer just called here and I told him where Roy was headed, described his car and they said they would meet Roy there and escort them back here.”
“Thank you Cathy and thank Roy. I’ll call you guys in a few minutes and tell you what’s happening. In the meantime, stay close to the cops that are headed your way.”
“Bill...this is scary. Is this for real?”
“I don’t know, Cathy. I hope this is all a false alarm but, be careful.”
There were already three security officer cars parked on the street in front of the house, with two sets of officers checking out the front and back. Neighbors were coming out of their houses as cops waved them back inside. I pulled into the drive and was out of the door before the motor had stopped turning.


Two cops made a human shield in front of me and had their guns drawn as I held out my State Attorney ID, which is a photo ID. I stopped long enough for them to glance at it and then pushed past them as they gave me a nod. They were reacting the way I wanted them to.
I was inside the door before it hit me and I slowed in mid-stride. I’d only been here twice in more than six months and each time had been painful. It felt too damned good to be in here, but I made myself trot forward toward the den.
She came out dressed in shorts and a light blue blouse that as usual she was bulging out of. Her hair was wet and hanging straight down behind her. I instantly got hard, remembering the last time I’d had that fantastic body in the shower, but this time I didn’t care about letting her know the effect she had on me and I didn’t bother to hide it.

“Bill.”

She was in my arms and I was pressing her hard against me, feeling her soft tits flatten against me, burying my face in her still moist, fragrant hair. After a fraction of a second of resistance she molded herself against me. I could feel her heart beating against me.
Finally, and it was only a little less difficult than cutting my arm off with a rusty spoon, I pushed her away and held her at arm’s length.
“Why?” There were tears in her eyes.
“I was just glad to see you alive, Debbie.”
“I...I just got off the phone with the Wilsons. I told them to keep BJ there with their son until the security officer get there. Now you tell me, Bill, what is going on here?”
I told her. She stumbled a little and I held her elbows to keep her upright. “Oh my God. You’re sure, they were watching BJ?”
“JSO identified you and BJ and the college has to be Mandarin High. They were stalking him, and maybe both of you.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “No, No. not BJ. Is this-“
“I can’t think of any other reason, Debbie. Someone who knows told me the head of the Mexican Cartel Menendez worked for is…concerned… about the possibility that it might come here. This might just be a warning to me, to scare me, or maybe they were planning to make me worry that they could come after you and Kelly after BJ. I don’t know.”
“The Mexican Cartel? Bill, what are you talking about?”
I realized that not everybody in the courthouse would be hooked into the gossip hotline and so I told her.
“I don’t believe this, Bill. Why didn’t you tell me? Let me at least get prepared for-“

[Ramesh_Rocky]

“For what, Debbie? There’s no indication the trial is coming here. I got word, strictly unofficial word, that there are people in Mexico who don’t want it to come here, but there’s been nothing solid until today. Do I tell you there’s a possible threat against you and the kids so you spend every day worrying every time you can’t reach the kids on their cells, or when they go off with friends and forget to tell you? Do you want to live like that? Could you live like that?

“Suppose you decide to move away, get away from me and Jacksonville? Where are you going to move that they couldn’t find you? How am I supposed to provide protection, or even know you’re in danger, if you’re in another city or state?”
She stared at me and whispered, “Why the hell did you join the State Attorney’s Office Bill? You could have been making big money in private practice and we’d still be together and not looking over our shoulders for someone coming to kill us?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. For what it’s worth, there have been plenty of times over the last six months that I wished the same thing.”
This time she hugged me. Even after Aline and Heather and Meagan and Jane, she felt good. Finally she pushed me away.
“BJ and Kelly should be here before too long. What do we do now?”
“You stay put, Debbie. It’s easier to protect you in one place. I’d suggest your parents come here for the weekend too. If you don’t mind, and it wouldn’t be too weird, I’ll stay here too. The cops will be trying to find out what the two thugs were up to and we’ll contact the feds to see if they can come up with anything. We need to know exactly what these assholes were doing, and if there’s a real threat or they were just trying to throw a scare into me.”
“But – if they were here to scare us, who cut that guy’s head off. And why?”
I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t tell anyone, but I had an idea. Unfortunately, the only cell phone I had that I could use to contact the Old Man was in a drawer in my office and I was going to make damned sure that Debbie, Kelly and BJ were safe and surrounded by as many uniforms and weapons as I could bring to bear before I drove back to the office. I’d also need protection myself, just in case.

“You got coffee?” “Some.”

“Any made up?” “No.”

“You were the coffee drinker. The only coffee I drink is at Starbucks.”

We just looked at each other for a moment and she said, “I still have some. I could brew up a pot.”

“Was Doug a coffee drinker?”

“No, you bastard. Can’t we call a truce, even now? If you have to know, Clint was a coffee guy just like you, any time of the day or night. You going to be pissed off about him, too.”
“No, Debbie, and I’m sorry for the crack about Doug. Old habits die hard.
Old feelings too, but a pot of coffee would be good.”
The cell rang then and when I punched it I heard Myra’s voice. Debbie could hear it too.
“Bill, please tell me the traffic is terrible and that’s why you’re not standing outside my door.”
“I wish I could, Myra but...something’s come up.”
In the long silence I could hear her breathing. I could feel Debbie’s glare and then felt it soften. When I looked up at her I didn’t see the anger I’d been used to. There was something else there, something I couldn’t put a name to.
“I’ll get that pot of coffee going, Bill,” she said, and turned and walked toward the kitchen.

“Was that her?” “Yes.”

Frost carried through the telephone lines.

“You’re at her house, when we were supposed to be going out tonight?” “Yes.”

There was a click.

I punched her number in. It rang until the message clicked in.

“Myra, please answer my phone or call me back, or I’ll call for the rest of the night and when I get a chance I’ll be over at your door to explain. Please let me. There’s an emergency, a REAL emergency. I never would have bailed on you otherwise. Call me back.”
I stood there for two minutes, two minutes that seemed a lot longer. The call finally came.
“I’m sorry, Bill. I’m acting like a crazy jealous girlfriend before we’ve had our first date, but when you said you were over there - it’s just that she’s like the monster in one of those movies that will never die or go away.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, but things have been crazy and I didn’t have a second to call you. Here’s what happened...” and I told her.
“Oh, God, Bill, I had no.....no idea. You say BJ and Kelly are safe and on their way, back to your old place?”
“Yeah, but we still have no idea exactly what’s going on, so I’m going to stay here with Debbie and the kids for the foreseeable future. I think they’re safer here than trying to run them to some safe house and I can’t....leave them alone. I’m going to sleep on a couch, but-“

“No, you don’t need to explain. They’re your kids. She was your wife. You’re going to stay there to protect them. I understand that. We’ll.................................................................................... get together

later. It’s okay. We’ll have another chance, and someday we’ll laugh about this.” “I don’t see it Myra but I hope. I shot your Friday all to hell and I’m sorry.” “Not as sorry as I am. I’ll grab a bite or see a movie. You pay attention to

taking care of business. I’ll talk to you later, Bill. Bye.”

I walked into the kitchen where Debbie had the coffee maker perking and was taking some milk out of the fridge. I liked flavored creamers, but apparently Clint had been a black coffee guy. I’d have to tough it out.
She got a coffee cup out of the cupboard and without looking at me, said, “I...I hate to keep saying I’m sorry. I...don’t know why I react that way. We’re divorced and you know I’ve been with two other guys and there’s no reason in the world why I should be upset that you’re with other women, except that that cow Myra is an insult to the laws of nature. No. No. I’m just jealous of her and you together. I know how you are about boobs, or at least the way you were until Aline, and I figure if you get with Myra you’ll never be able to wean yourself.”
She looked up from the coffee maker and stared at me.
“Why are we so crazy, Bill? Other divorced couples are able to be civilized, able to walk away. Why are we this way?”
“I don’t know Debbie, except that I still have feelings for you and it doesn’t matter how much I try to pretend I don’t, I do. I don’t think you’d have been such a bitch toward me if you didn’t still have some kind of feelings for me.
She held her hands out open palmed in a questioning gesture. “So what do we do?”
One step would have taken me to her. A second step would have her in my arms, those fat, heavy, soft tits rubbing up against me, my hard cock rubbing against that pussy that had been my playground for so many years. We had cops all around and our kids and her parents would be bursting in the doors at any minute. So I couldn’t possibly bend her over the kitchen table where Doug probably had taken her and have her the way I wanted to this instant, but I wanted to, yet couldn’t.
There was too much swirling around in my head. Doug and that night at UNF, Aline on the Bonne Chance, Heather bent over the desk in the empty office and Paula staring at me with those knowing eyes.

“Nothing.”

I answered her question and then walked away from her into the safety of the den. Ten minutes later she brought me a cup and I drank it standing up and moving around, taking calls from Martin, Sheriff Knight, the Big Man and a half dozen others. A few minutes later Kelly came in with Roy and Cathy.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

When they came in I sat them down in the den with Debbie and two uniformed cops just outside and told them what had happened. Cathy just put her hands to her mouth as if she wanted to scream and Roy put his arm around her. Debbie sat down and put her arm around Kelly.

“We don’t really know what’s going on at this point, don’t know that there’s a threat to BJ or any of us, but we can’t afford to take chances either. These people have butchered whole families when they THOUGHT a trial of one of their guys was going to a particular prosecutor’s office.”
“Do you have any idea when we’ll know what’s going on, if there is a real threat?” Roy asked.
“The Sheriff’s Office investigators are working the case right now. They’ve called in the feds, and our people in Mexico with the DEA are trying to find out anything. Hopefully, if it’s a real threat, we’ll know shortly and can take precautions. If this is just a feint, just to get us nervous, we’ll know that too.”
Of course I couldn’t tell them that I had a pipeline to better information than the feds or our intelligence services probably had, if I could get to the cell in my office and the Old Man was answering.
Just then BJ came in flanked by two cops, his friend and the Wilsons. Debbie grabbed him and enveloped him, kissing him until he went “MOMMMMMMM!” and she finally let him go. A moment later Kelly had him and he put up with her a little bit longer and then he pushed her away.
“You guys are acting like I went and died. What’s going on?”
I told him. He gave me a stunned look and said, “They were watching me?
Taking pictures? You’re sure? Is this for real?”
“Real enough to get one man killed and probably two if we ever find his body.”
“What do you think they were going to do?”
I told him and the others what they had done to the Texas prosecutors’ families. He went a little pale. I didn’t blame him, or any of them. This kind of thing didn’t happen in our world.
Mr. Wilson asked, “What about us?”
“You’re going to go home with a security officer escort and I’ll talk to Knight about having a cop stationed at your house. This manpower thing is going to get expensive, but I’ll see it we can hit up the feds to pay part or all of the associated manpower costs. This is really more of a federal than a state responsibility even though they’re going to try him in a state court because it’s easier to put them to death in a state with an active death penalty like Florida – or Texas.
“However, I don’t think the cops will need to stay with you guys or that you’ll need to change your lives because I don’t think you’ll be in any real danger.”


“You can say that after what you just said they did to those families?”
“My family might be in danger, but I don’t think they would bother you. Even the Cartels can’t kill EVERYBODY with the slightest connection to one of their targets. I don’t think they’d have any reason to go after you, which is one of the reasons I think you need to get back to your home and not spend a lot of time around here.”
When they had left, we talked and decided that the Bascombs would stay in the house with us at least for the weekend. While we were standing there I called Knight and Edwards, asking them to get the authorities down there to put a couple of men into my mother’s home and watch them over the weekend as well. I called Mom and told her and Charles what was going on and that I didn’t really expect the Cartel to strike that far away even if they had plans, but better safe than sorry.
“Bill, you take care of Kelly and BJ....and....Debbie. But you be careful too.
I’ve already lost...”
“I know, Mom, I’ll be careful.”
It had been over 30 years, yet I knew that day was still fresh in her mind, and nothing would take it out of her head until the day she closed her eyes for the final time. I wondered in passing if it ever bothered Charles to know his wife loved another man that much after all these years but he must have been able to live with it or they wouldn’t still be together.
With all the arrangements made, I told Debbie and the kids that I had to go back to the office. I didn’t explain, just said it was important.
“Be careful, Dad,” Kelly said, coming to me, hugging me and kissing me on the side of the face.
Debbie stunned everyone by grabbing me and kissing me full on the lips. “Remember you’re not bulletproof,” she said, backing away.
“I’ll try not to forget. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
It was nearly 10 p.m. when I headed out in a security officer cruiser with another riding shotgun behind us. Knight and Edwards had both insisted on double coverage, just in case.
“This isn’t just for your benefit, Bill,” Dallas told me before I walked out the door. “You’re a symbol of this office, of the judicial system. We’re not going to let those bastards kick us in the balls again.”
The courthouse was spooky, as it always is late at night, an island of light in the darkness, harsh white light casting deep shadows. Both Miller and Costa, the patrol officers riding with me, got out of their cruisers first, checked out the area in front of the courthouse, then called down the cleanup crews to unlock the front doors and let us in. A couple of them surreptitiously crossed themselves when I walked past them - my legend was growing.


We rode the elevators to the top floor and both officers preceded me. I made them wait outside my office while I unlocked the drawer in my desk that held the Old Man’s dedicated cell. I punched in his number and waited while it rang, and rang, and rang.
Oh well, I know he didn’t sit around waiting for my calls. I hadn’t called him that often and I’d had to wait before. I didn’t say anything. He’d know where the call came from.
It was 10:45 before I got back to the house. Everybody was still up, as I’d expected, watching television, surfing on the Internet, listening to music or, in the case of Cathy, Roy and Debbie, just talking. I walked in and it was only awkward for a few minutes. In ten minutes we had moved into the den with coffee, tea and the baked chocolate chip cookies for which Cathy was famous.
There were glances shot back and forth that told me things unsaid were being thought, but as we talked about the things that I’d been working on, carefully leaving out the Donnally saga, Debbie started talking about the travails of riding herd on a crew of young, ambitious, horny male and female lawyers. There was laughter and it almost felt like the old days.
Then Cathy gave me a look that needed no words and I silently shook my head. I had thought Debbie and her father didn’t catch it, but the looks they exchanged told me they had. That was the trouble of coming out of a 20-year relationship - it was hard to hide your feelings and thoughts.
“I always thought you’d missed your calling, baby,” Roy told Debbie. “You should have gone to law college like Bill.”
She glanced over at me and her words had no venom or regret in them, although I expected that.
“Maybe, but it was more important to work so that Bill could get through law college. We always knew he was going to be the primary breadwinner. I have never regretted staying out and working at the bank. It actually helped me when I decided to go into business education.”

[Ramesh_Rocky]

I looked at her and wondered if she felt the same way now. She’d given up five years of her life when I was advancing myself to work at a bank executive job, raise a little girl, and keep me happy. It had worked out pretty good, but I wondered if she now regretted putting my life first.

At 11:30 p.m. Roy yawned and held his hand out to Cathy, saying, “Come on old girl, I need my beauty sleep.”
She grinned at him and said, “I don’t?”
“Never,” and the look he gave her told me that Debbie had put them together in Kelly’s bedroom, moving Kelly in to sleep with her while BJ kept his own bed. There were two beds, which we’d put in a few years ago for the times when


he’d want male friends to sleep over, in his room, but I doubted she’d put Kelly and BJ in the same room
As Roy pulled Cathy to her feet and they looked at each other, it hit me harder than I thought it would. They were who I had always thought Debbie and I would be in another 20 years. Now we never would be.
As they left the den Debbie gave them a look that made me think she might be having the same thoughts I’d had. There was a definite sadness there.
“Did you find out anything?”
“No. Everybody is still checking things out. If and when I find out anything, I will tell you first. I promise.”
She stood and, as always, it was a symphony.
“Well, I’m going upstairs to try and get some sleep. Will you be alright down here?”
“Always have been.”
She turned to leave, then swiveled to face me again.
“They told me you almost killed yourself a dozen times trying to get here tonight. I – I’m touched that you were that. concerned.”
“Being divorced doesn’t change some things, Debbie, not at all.”
We stared at each other for a minute. There were a hundred things I wanted to say, yet I couldn’t think of one of them.
I slouched on the couch after she left and clicked on the Television From Hell. The local news was over so I found CNN, checked the headlines, then switched over to Fox. I listened to the world’s woes and felt the house all around me, like a living thing. It felt like it was in my blood, every square foot had been a part of my life. As long as I stayed away, I had kept the memories at bay. It was as if all this had happened in another life.
Nevertheless, it was my life.
I had begun to convince myself that this old life was behind me and I’d begun to feel like I was settling into the single life. I’d begun to think that the day would come when I would look at Debbie and not see her through the eyes of the 20-year-old who had fallen in love with a gorgeous woman on first sight.
However, like Michael Corleone in one of the ‘Godfather’ flicks, “they had pulled me back in!”
I had started out the evening as an increasingly well-adjusted single man lusting after a very big breasted woman whom I’d never seen naked, but was looking forward to, and I’d ended it as a divorced father living a lonely life forcibly separated from everything I’d ever cared about.
I was sleeping on the couch the way I had hundreds of times before over the years when the Old Man’s cell phone rang. It must have been ringing for a minute or two but I shook the sleep out of my eyes and keyed the talk button.


“Mr. Maitland, I apologize for being away on business. Did I wake you?” “Yes, but thank you for returning my call.”
“I think I know the reason for your call.”
“Why am I not surprised? I assume that the man with no head lost it to your people, and you probably know what river we should drag to find his partner?”
“He sleeps not with, fresh water, fishes, to use a line from that great old classic Godfather film, but salt water fish - whatever is left of him. Sharks tend to leave very little uneaten.”
“What is going on? I think I know, but please confirm my suspicions and tell me how great a threat my family is facing.”
“Both of them were employees of the Cartel. They had been shadowing your son for three days.”
“What – why were they watching him/”
“It was psychological warfare on the Cartel’s part. They had no intention of doing anything. They were merely going to see that photographs of your son and wife made their way to the security officer along with some vague threats. Their goal was to make you so focused on the threat to your family that you would have no desire to become involved in their affairs.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“My people spotted them and after – eliminating – one, they discussed matters with the other. After a – lengthy – discussion, they were convinced the remaining employee was completely honest and forthcoming in his answers. He was convinced this was strictly a psychological ploy.”

“But...”

“Obviously, often low level employees are not kept informed of policy, but, following our termination of the two men some of my people contacted some Cartel representatives. Up until that point they were not aware of our interest in this matter. When our position was made clear, they indicated that this was merely a feint, a precautionary effort. Following our recent contact, the Cartel representatives have given their word that no one from their organization will in any way threaten or come anywhere near to anyone close to you.”
“Do you believe them?”
There was a long silence and I wondered if he was taking the question as some affront to his own code of honor.
“My business – and that of the Cartel – is surrounded by many myths and stereotypes, but they are at bottom businesses. We employ violence because that is the nature of the world in which we live and work. If we did not employ violence we would be murdered, our women taken and our riches plundered. Regardless, when you strip away everything else, a business is a business. It exists to provide products and services, to make a profit - to make money.


“A war disrupts business, the supply of products to customers, frightens off customers, results in the destruction of product, brings down the disruptive force of government upon our organizations, results in the death of valued employees and, the bottom line, it costs everyone money – great amounts of money.
“The Cartel - any organization such as our own – tends to be cautious when it comes to attacking powerful government officials. The Mexican Cartel has become – arrogant – about such actions because of the situation in that country. This attitude has shaped their actions in your country because they – and we – operate outside the legal world. They tend not to fear retribution from official sources but, we are not a government.
“Our people were very clear, that any attack or hostile action against you or anyone close to you would bring forth an - unlimited - response. In other words, war, without regard for any damage that might result to either or both of our organizations. In other words, in language they would understand, no quarter.
“At this point, they know only that this is a personal matter to me, but they will investigate and will learn of the connection between us. It makes no difference, except that before this I stood in the shadows watching your back. Now it will be a secret no longer.
“This doesn’t mean they will take no action against you, only that they will consider their next steps very carefully and weigh them against the threat of what they stand to lose. This means that, if the Mendoza trial comes to you, I have no idea what they will do. Until that time, I can guarantee you there will be no further threats to you or yours.”

I considered what he had said, then asked, “Does this place me in your debt?” “You did not ask me to take this action. Consider it what you would call - a freebie, I think the word is. However, if you were in my debt, would that be such a terrible position in which to be? There is very little that I would ask you directly to do, and you could become immeasurably wealthy and powerful with my backing. There are a number of politicians around the world who have made

good lives being in my service.”
“As I’ve said before, I have to decline your gracious offer.”
“Ah well, that does not surprise me. You can sleep securely tonight. There is no immediate threat to your family.”
Before he could hang up, I said, “Unfortunately, the local law enforcement will have no way of determining that the threat has passed, and I obviously can’t tell them how I know. Could you...?”
“Within the next several days, we will ensure that information is received from sources within the Cartel about the nature of their attempts to spy on your son. Your intelligence agencies will receive confirmation of these reports.”
“Thank you.”


“Good night, Mr. Maitland.”
I looked to see Debbie’s eyes gleaming in the darkness, reflecting the light from the hallway. In the dim light I could see that she wore a robe, and apparently nothing else.
“Is that the man who called you in the hospital?” ‘It’s better that you don’t know, Debbie.”
“You know that I kept secrets from you, Bill, but I’ve always known you had secrets of your own. This involves us – me and Kelly and BJ. Don’t you think I deserve to know your secret?”
I told her everything.
“You would have betrayed all you’ve ever believed in to keep us safe?”
“I would have sold my soul to the devil to keep you and Kelly and BJ safe.
There was a time you would have known that.”
She just stared at me for awhile, then turned without a word and left the den. I lay back on the couch which seemed to have the imprint of my body in it, and fell almost instantly asleep.

[Ramesh_Rocky]

CHAPTER 18: SECOND ACTS

OCTOBER 19, 2005 – WEDNESDAY - 2 P.M.

I stopped at the desk outside Debbie’s office. I didn’t know her secretary. She was an older woman, probably a holdover from an earlier regime. Johnny August was famous for never firing anyone. Because he was as close to blind as you could get without being technically stone cold blind, he was one of those rare bosses who actually judged people by the quality of work they did, rather than being affected by cup size or a pretty face.
“Mr. Maitland. I’m sorry. We didn’t receive word that you were coming down. Is Ms. Bascomb expecting you?”
“No. I just had something I wanted to talk to her about. Could you buzz her and see if she could give me a few minutes?’
“Yes sir.”
A moment later I heard Debbie’s voice, then she was opening the door to her office and giving me a curious look.
“Mr. Maitland? Connie said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Could I come in?”
She pretended to look amazed but gave me a little smile. “Of course, Please come in.”
I walked in past her and stopped at one of the two comfortable plush chairs set in front of the wide, natural mahogany desk that held a name plate giving her name and title. I looked around and saw pictures of BJ and Kelly apparently recently taken in large frames on her desk, and a picture of the two of us from our Hawaiian cruise of ten years ago on the wall at head height behind her swivel chair.
I also noticed that the desk and her chair were raised so she’d look down on anyone sitting in front of her. I knew that was one of the tricks she had picked up working at the Hunt Bank. She might have sacrificed five years of her life, but she had learned a lot more than the mechanics of running a business.
She just nodded toward the picture and said, “Everybody knows our story, Bill. There’s no point in trying to hide it so I just put it out for everybody to see when they walk in.”
Then she looked at me and the manila envelope I held in my right hand and said, “You realize this is the first time since I’ve arrived here that you’ve been in my office. Are you here on official business or, does it have anything to do with. you know?”
“No and no.”


I placed the manila envelope on her desk, swung around and caught her by the wrist. I pulled her toward me. Her eyes widened but she did not resist as I pulled her to me. I caught her face in my hands and placed my lips over hers. I had to stretch slightly to my tip toes, but I’d always done that. She had her arms on my shoulders and she was leaning into me. Her lips opened and I tasted the sweetness of her mouth and tongue.
It seemed to last forever, but it was probably only twenty to thirty seconds. I let her go and stepped back. It seemed hard to breathe and I felt moisture at the corners of my eyes, but I made myself breathe regularly. She looked at me with her lips open and she seemed to be struggling for words.
“Of all the things in this world I expected to happen today, that was absolutely the very last thing. Why....how...what? You took the words away from me, Bill.”

“I had to find something out.” “What?”

“I had to find out if I could hold you in my arms and let you go.”

We stood there staring at each other and she reached out with one hand toward me but she didn’t touch me. I couldn’t blame her because for most of the last six months I would have bitten it off. I reached out to her, took her hand and directed her to sit in one of the chairs next to me.
“You’re not going to give me the high ground?” she said with a hint of a smile.
“You forget, Debbie, you told me in bed all about the tricks you were picking up with the Hunts. You may not have thought I was paying any attention, but I was.”
“What are we negotiating?”
“Not negotiating, Deb. I just - I felt like I should come in here and talk to you. I have a lot of things on my mind and we haven’t really talked - since all this started. I know you wanted to but I just wasn’t...wasn’t in a place where I could be in the same room with you.”
“You must have gotten better, Bill.” She rubbed her lips with her thumb. “You got a lot better.”
“A little. But I have to tell you, it is still tearing me apart to be sitting here.” “Then why are you here, Bill? You said it doesn’t have anything to do with
the Cartel.”
“No, I didn’t really say that, although I can see where you might think that. I’m not here because anything has changed in regard to the Cartel but...what happened over the weekend...it was one of the things I’ve been thinking about.”
“I don’t understand.”


I couldn’t force myself to sit still so I stood up and walked away from her, then turned back to her.
“I can’t tell you that there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t still hate you, Debbie. You hurt me, you hit me way below the belt and it took me a long time to pull myself together. I’ll never forget some of the things you said to me back then. I’ll never forget you turning your back on me to go to Doug that night. I’ll never get those images of him and you together in our bed – in our bed – out of my head. If I’d seen it, it would have been bad but, in a way, not seeing it makes it worse because my imagination - I can’t shut it off and even now there are times I’ll be sleeping and I’ll.  dream about you and him together.”
I could tell from the narrowing of her eyes that the old anger was building and I expected her to flare up, but she didn’t say anything.
“I know that we both crashed our marriage. I know that I left you alone. But, damn it, Debbie, even though I feel some guilt, I can’t help believing that you could have changed things. You could always twist me around your little finger. You didn’t, and that makes me think, it makes me know, that you didn’t try to change things because you wanted out. If it hadn’t been Doug, it would have been somebody else.”
She sat back in her chair and ran her hand over her long mane of blonde hair.
She was dry eyed, but...
“Well, I’ve been trying to get you to talk for six months, so I guess I should be happy, even if you’re using the opportunity to unload on me. You’re entitled, I guess, you got hurt the most. Even though you hurt me plenty for years leading up to...Doug, but if it makes you feel better ”
I walked back to stand in front of her.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Debbie. Even if it may sound that way. I just wanted to clear the air. There’s no point pretending that I’m not still hurting. I’ve got bruises that haven’t healed and may not for a long time. I want you to know just how bad you hurt me, but it’s in the past and it will get better.”
“Then what. ”
I knelt in front of her and took both her hands in mine.
“I wanted to know that I could be around you and not be crazy, that we could be....maybe not friends but co-parents. We can share the kids and share raising them and go to their graduations, their marriages and welcome our grandchildren into the world. I hope we’ll be in each other's lives for a long time to come.”
I didn’t want to but I felt myself tearing up.
“We were married for a long time. We had a good marriage and we made good memories. Remember I told you once that you’d pissed all over the memories we made. Actually that was the way I felt.  then, but with time I’ll be
able to remember the good times again, because we did have some good times.”

[Ramesh_Rocky]

She stared at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.
“What happened to you, Bill? Jesus Christ, what happened? I never thought I’d hear words like that come out of your mouth again. I figured I’d have to wait years and years before we could even be civil to each other.”
“I saw us from another angle, Deb. You remember that old Jimmy Stewart movie that we loved - ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’? He saw what life would have been like if he hadn’t been around, and I saw what our lives might have been like....if we had been very, very unlucky. I saw just how lucky we were that we’re the people we are. It could have ended up so much worse for both of us.”
“What are you talking about, Bill?”
I told her about Paul and Paula Donnally. When I told her what had happened with Dave Brandon I said, “This can’t ever go out of this room, Deb. I’d probably be in trouble for what I did, but I don’t care about that. I can take care of myself, but it would destroy Dave, and his wife, and their marriage.”
She just gave me an innocent look and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never heard anything.”
I told her everything, except the end of my meeting with Paula Donnally. It made me feel dirty. It didn’t help that I’d jerked off twice since then remembering her touch. I had never checked the number she had left for me. I knew I wasn’t going to call her, ever, but it felt like a viper had sunk its fangs in me and the poison lingered.
“I can’t help believing they loved each other once upon a time. Maybe as much as we did. Now, I heard the expression somewhere about two scorpions trapped in a bottle, and that’s what I think about when I remember them. I’m afraid she’ll kill him or he’ll kill her or they’ll kill each other. They’ve lost each other and everything they ever had, and they’ll never have anything together again.
“I decided I couldn’t let that happen to us. You hurt me, I hurt you, but we’ll get past that. Their story is over and it will never get a second chapter. Our story is over, but we can have a Second Act.”
She gave me a troubled look.
“Bill - I don’t know. God, I am so glad that you are finally talking to me. I miss what we had, but the problems we had, I don’t know if we can...”
I shook my head.
“Not a Second Act for us – together. A Second Act and a second chance to find people we can build new lives with. I want you to find someone you can love and make a life with, someone who’ll be a good and caring stepfather to BJ and Kelly. I don’t know what will happen to me. I don’t know if this thing - with Myra that doesn’t seem like it will ever get a fair chance - has a chance to develop. Maybe it won’t be her, but I hope that there will be somebody out there


that I can build a life with. It won’t be like what we had. Maybe it will never be as good as what we had, but it will give us both a chance to find happiness again. I don’t want to think of you being alone, and I know I don’t want to stay alone.
Now the tears came.
“Why are you doing this, Bill? Could I feel any shittier about the way I treated you? I didn’t think so.”
“Debbie, I know it was never going to work with Doug. Your mother said he was a fling and I know now he was. Apparently, Clint Abbott left you, but there are other decent guys out there. On the Bonne Chance, I met a guy, an insurance guy, and we got to talking. He told me something I haven’t forgotten. He said you’ll never know when you’ll walk into an office or around a corner and you’ll meet someone and you have to be willing to take the chance. As long as we’re alive, there’s a chance of walking around that corner and changing your life. You’re too hot to stay alone.”
This time she got up and walked away from me. She walked behind her desk, head down and then she looked up and stared ten years into the past. She moved her gaze from our younger selves on the Hawaiian cruise and turned back to me. She did something I couldn’t put my finger on that drew my eyes to her fantastic chest. Myra might be bigger, but Debbie was a wonder in her own right.
“That night in the den, if you had made a move, if you had touched me, you would have gotten lucky. Did you know that? I looked at you and realized that no other man I’ve ever known loved me the way you did. You risked your life for me 20 years ago, and you’d give up your soul for me after the way I treated you – with Doug. Why the hell did I ever give up on you?”
I had to take a deep breath.

“That’s the other reason I’m here, Deb. I want to keep you in my life. Being back in the – in our – house for the first time in six months - it all came back to me, my life came back to me. Even after our marriage turned to shit and I wouldn’t recognize it, it was still a good life, because I had you and the kids in it. “When I was lying on the couch that night after you walked out - it was as if

the last six months never happened. It felt like I’d had a bad dream - a terrible dream - but it was all ending and I was going to wake up back with you.

“But... ”

I looked at the woman I’d always known was going to tear my heart out and I felt a sadness so deep, so bone-aching cold that I didn’t know if I could make myself say the words.
“But.  it wasn’t a dream. The last six months were real. They happened. You
took that bastard’s side against me at UNF - you walked away from me. You lay with him....and you fucked him...while I was dying in that shitty little condo. I met Aline, and I fell – at least a little – in love with her. I found out that I wasn’t


really as terrible a lover and as miserable a man in bed as you’d made me think I was for years.”
There was a time when I would have loved, eaten up, the expression on her face, but I didn’t enjoy it now.
“What I felt when I went back to the house that used to be ours, what I felt laying on the couch and remembering our lives - that was the dream. The reality is that I’m learning to live without you. I’m better now than I was three months ago, and in a year, it won’t hurt at all.....or much. A part of me will always love you - but I’m moving on like you told me to.”
She smiled at me through tears running down her face.
“I guess....we always get what we deserve. Don’t we.  ?”
I walked over to her desk and picked up the manila envelope I’d placed on it, opened the clasp and handed it to her.

“What... ?”

“Just give it a quick glance, before I go.”

She pulled the paperwork out and wiped her face, then sat behind the desk.

She started reading, looking up again and again as she read further.

“Oh, God, don’t tell me that there’s something really wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not dying and I don’t know anything about the Cartel’s plans but, what’s happened, what could happen, convinced me to do this. I made a fair amount of money by selling a few stories to television when I was up in New York and for some articles. I used the money to buy an annuity that should run for the next 10 to 20 years. More than long enough.”
“A million dollar life insurance policy?”
“You can buy a million dollar term life insurance policy with no riders if you’re willing to pay enough, and I had enough to pay the premiums for 15 or 20 years and after that you and the kids wouldn’t need it. They’ll be grown and I’m sure you’ll be remarried and have a wealthy husband. However, in the meantime, you and they won’t have any money worries.”
She shook her head. “Bill. ”
‘I’m not a big spender, Deb. What do I need the extra money for? I sold the rights and the interviews to provide for you and the kids. I’ll be fine and I won’t be worrying about you, or them.”
“But. how can you-?”

[Ramesh_Rocky]

“The kids will receive $250,000 apiece with you as the executor until they reach 25. You get the balance of $500,000 because I don’t think they could handle that kind of money until they’re older. Despite losing your mind for a few


months over Doug’s cock, I know you love them and you will watch over them if I’m gone. I trust you to take care of them.”
She put her hands over her mouth as if she wanted to scream.
“Don’t do this, Bill. God damn, please don’t do this. Leave me a little pride.
Be an asshole toward me, like you have been - don’t be so damned nice.”
“Can’t help it, Deb. I have loved you for half my life, and a part of me will love you for the rest of my life. Just hold onto the papers. I hope you can throw them away in 20 years or so.”
I turned and walked to the door of her office. When I glanced back at her she was still staring at the insurance papers on her desk.
“You remember that day you told me you were divorcing me? I told you to have a good life, but what I really meant was that I hoped you died in agony. However, now I mean this. Have a good life, Debbie. When I walk out this door, we can start working on the next part of our lives.”
I walked out on the woman who had been my life without looking back again.
She looked at the door for a long time. She reached out and ran her hand over the insurance papers but they didn’t disappear. They were as real, as solid, as they had been when she touched them for the first time.
Twenty years ago she had stared at a stranger with tubes all over him and wondered why he had risked his life for a woman he didn’t know. A few nights before she had learned that he was willing to give up his soul to protect her and their children, and a few minutes ago she had learned that he had never stopped loving her, and probably never could.
“Why didn’t I love you enough to see past the fat and the middle-aged bald guy and see the man you always were?”
Even now, she didn’t know the answer. She still had swirling emotions about him. She could have taken him into her bed that night, but the anger and the resentment he stirred would still have been there. She would have wound up hurting him again. She knew it. It was better this way. Let him find someone else who could make him happy.
She saw him with Myra, and she could stand that, or that security officer detective, or women from his office. Someone younger than she and Bill were. Maybe somebody who could even give him another child. He had been a good father at the beginning, and maybe he’d learned enough that he wouldn’t mess it up a second time.
Anybody but Aline. Even as she saw the Frenchwoman in her mind’s eye her gut clenched and she knew she couldn’t stand that, but it wasn’t going to happen. Aline was half a world away and she wouldn’t come back. She had a son to hold


her in Paris. As long as Aline stayed on the other side of the world, Debbie knew she could stand it.
She stood and looked back at the photo of them on the Hawaiian cruise - a moment frozen in time. When she had found another man, one who satisfied her in bed and was a good guy and one who loved her – not as much as Bill but nobody would ever love her like that again – she would still have that photo to look at and remember what they had had.
“Ms. Bascomb? Mr. August called and reminded you about that staff meeting. It’s due to start in five minutes.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in just a minute, Helen.”
She placed the insurance papers in her top drawer. She’d think about them later. Now it was time to turn her attention to business, to being the best administrator she could be. Johnny August had given her a second chance and she intended to prove to him that she deserved it.
She was walking past Helen when the older woman coughed and said, “Ms.

Bascomb... ”

“Yes?”

The older woman gave her a sympathetic look and pointed toward her. At first Debbie thought she might have left a button undone or her slip was showing. But she followed Helen’s gaze and reached up with her forefinger to find her cheeks wet.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping back into her office. She wiped her face with tissues, checked herself out in a compact mirror and made sure the tears were gone. A tough administrator couldn’t walk around crying.
She gave the photo of them one last look. Their story had ended. Now it was time to move on. Although....
“I could get him back.  if I wanted him. I could.”
Then she stepped through the door into her new life.