LETHAL OBSESSION (5 page)

      “Don’t
overdo it, Fella.”  Ellen tried to act stern but a she felt a smile playing at
her lips.

She
turned to her housekeeper.  “Juanita, I think one of your specialty breakfast
burritos would taste really good this morning.”

      “Yes
Ma'am.”

      As
they ate breakfast, Gene continued with his hilarious tales of life as a
Tennessee hillbilly. It seemed he had plenty of homespun stories and Ellen
found them truly amusing. When it came to distracting her from grieving, Gene
was an expert.   Only a few minutes with this man and he had her forgetting
about all her sadness and tragedy. This was really weird. Ellen shouldn't feel
this happy now. It wasn't right.  It was too soon. The guilt ate at her but she
pushed it away. There was plenty of time for grieving later, like a lifetime.

CHAPTER SIX

      The
memorial service was harder than she thought it would be.  Ellen had selected a
mahogany casket.  A large framed photo graced the top of its closed lid. The
picture was of a smiling Mark dressed in safari gear sitting in an open jeep.

      His
eulogy was read by Mark's best friend Roger who had flown in from California.

"Mark
Anderson and I became friends in the fifth grade.  He shot a spit ball through
his homemade blow gun and hit me in the neck.  Guess who got blamed for it?  It
wasn't him."  Everybody was smiling, crying and laughing.  This was the
way Mark would have wanted it.    "Then there was college and I think you
folks know the rest of the story. Mark and I had a friendship so rare that we
remained so through life, even on opposite sides of the country.  He was the brother
I never had."  Roger wiped at a tear.  "I sure miss you, Bro."

      Ellen
found herself at the head of his casket facing the people.  "Some of you
know how Mark and I met. Some of you may have thought he was insane to hire me,
a Mississippi back woods girl with virtually no pedigree.  I worked for this
bank president who decided he was going to have himself a mistress, namely me. 
When I turned him down, he fired me on the spot.  Unfortunately for this
president, Mark, who was going to invest big bucks with the bank, overheard the
exchange.  So, I guess you could say I was rescued by the most amazing Prince
Charming any girl could have.  Mark and I had five beautiful years together and
we cherished every moment of those years.  I feel blessed to have found such a
perfect love."  Ellen tried to blink the tears back but they fell anyway.
She looked at the casket.  "I'll always love you."  Ellen kissed her
fingers and placed them on his casket.   

      Ellen
was getting weekly updates from the executives.  Anderson Enterprises was thriving
even without its creator.  Her presence was not needed, so she found herself
with all this idle time on her hands. Her organization skills had gone out the
window.  Ellen could not think past her grief.

The
days came and went.  She was living in this weird fog.  Many days Ellen stayed
in bed until well afternoon.  Even then she had to force herself to get up and
function as a human being.  Sleep was her friend now.  The time passed quicker
and being in the unconscious state totally stopped the thought processes.  It
was like being anesthetized against life's painful realities.  The sheriff
still called but was repeatedly told by Juanita she was napping.          

      Finally
Ellen began taking Gene's calls. That night when he stuck his neck out to help
her go to the crash site, Ellen felt she could trust Gene Stone.  He always
called her princess in his own humorous way.  Gene had a way of making her
smile even when she didn't feel like it. Whether it was right or not, this
man's attention did wonders for her somber, black moods.

      Mornings
became a ritual.  The sheriff usually showed up just in time for breakfast. 
However he never came empty handed.  Each time his contribution to the meal was
something different.  Warm apple turnovers fresh from the bakery were Ellen's
favorite. 

      After
awhile, Ellen stopped trying to analyze the whys and wherefores. It was what it
was.  There was nothing wrong with a widow enjoying  an available man's
platonic company.  Even if they did nothing but play a few hands of gin rummy,
Gene's presence lifted her spirits.  Just having another person to talk to was
like a soothing balm for the soul. He was a good listener, never stayed long
and slowly Ellen was beginning to open up to him.  She felt he was the only
friend she had in the world who gave a damn.  He made her laugh and slowly she
was beginning to heal.

      Gene
Stone seemed to be her lifeline out of this swirling pit of despair.  The fact
that he was a man bothered her although his visits were innocent and he did
nothing to make her uncomfortable.  Her niggling conscience was condemning of
male company, but Ellen always managed to shelve the guilt until later.  In
many ways, Gene was like the brother she never had.                                        

      On
this particular morning, Ellen glanced at the calendar in amazement.  She was
already four months into widowhood. Four months without Mark and she was
actually surviving.  It was October and the Smoky Mountain area was
experiencing a long Indian summer.  The days continued to be balmy even though
frosty nights had colored the mountains red and gold.

      Gene
seemed somber this morning. Normally he was vivacious and funny trying to cheer
her up but not today.

      "Something
bothering you, Gene?  You seem a little pensive." 

      "No,
nothing like that.  I was just thinking."

      Ellen
waited for him to continue.

      Gene
gazed at her with an unsure expression.  “I’d like to invite you somewhere.”   
                                  

      Ellen
wrinkled her brow and stared at him.  Then she grinned in a teasing manner. 
"Are you asking this poor widow out on a date?  Golly, I'm
flattered."

      He
chuckled. "Well, not exactly, although that might not be a bad idea, but I
had something in mind a lot more exciting than a date."

      Ellen
didn't really believe he was inviting her anywhere but it was fun to play
along.  She had not left the house since her meeting with the corporate
executives and Mark's memorial service.  Juanita did all the grocery shopping
and Ellen had no desire to go anywhere.  She knew at one point she would have
to venture out into the world again but she wasn't ready yet.              

      "There’s
a fishing tournament over at Chelsea Lake tomorrow to benefit the food bank. 
It’s for the kids ages six to twelve. I don’t know whether you like that sort
of thing, but we could use some adult supervision if you’d be interested in
coming along.” He shrugged. “I just thought you might want to get out in the
fresh air for a little while.  It’s no big deal if you don’t feel up to going.”

      Ellen
remembered digging up worms as a kid and sneaking away to the small pond in her
neighborhood.  It was one of the few pleasures she enjoyed as a ten year old. Sometimes
her mom even fried the fish she caught.                                 

      Perhaps
it was too soon for her to get out among people again.  It would be fun being
with kids though and hearing their excited little voices.  "I used to love
to fish when I was a kid.  It sounds like fun.  I'd love to go and help
out."

      Gene's
smile lit up the room.  “Wonderful.  I’ll pick you up bright an early tomorrow,
around seven."

      "Seven? 
In the morning?"

      "Oh,
come on Princess.  That's when the tournament starts."    

      Ellen
groaned and Gene laughed.  

      Squealing,
excited children ran wild up and down the shore of the sprawling mountain
lake.  The sun was blistering hot as sweat bees swarmed. There was virtually no
breeze on this balmy fall day.  The calm lake mirrored rainbow trees of red, yellow,
and orange flame, it's smooth surface only shattered by squadrons of blue-green
dragonflies. Leaves floated down to the silvery wetness where they became tiny
colorful boats.  The air smelled of a mixture of tiny fish lying too long in
the sun and musty lakeshore mud.  It was wonderful.

      Groups
of excited children sat with buckets in their laps as they proudly displayed
their little fishy treasures.  Cane poles and lines baited with slimy worms
swung haphazardly thru the air accompanied with squeals of delight.  Some of
the kids were more interested in playing with the fish in the buckets than
catching them in the lake.

      Ellen
was busy trying to untangle a fishhook from a little girl’s long braids.  Gene
sat with his back propped up against a tree taking in the whole scene.  He
watched Ellen wipe the sweat from her face.  She had put her hair up in two
cute ponytails and he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever
seen.  Just gazing at her made him feel like a brand new man.    Many women had
come and gone over the years but none were able to bring out these emotional feelings
in himself he didn't even recognize.  Ellen touched something deep inside him
that was both ecstatic and terrifying.  More and more Gene found excuses to be
away from home, to be with her. 

      If
only he wasn’t married to Martha, he could... Gene shook his head as if to
clear it.  He could what?  Since when did being married make a difference?  Gene
couldn't remember a time in his married life when he wasn't cheating or
thinking about it.

      What
was it about this classy, exquisite lady that intrigued him so?  Ellen brought
out a rare protective instinct.  The feeling unnerved him.  This emotion didn't
fit with Gene's opinion of himself.  He was tough, a fighter, always had been
since he was a kid.  Now he had some real power in the county and he knew he could
be ruthless when necessary.  But with Ellen, Gene felt a soft spot in his
heart.  Since when did it matter to him if a woman was grieving or vulnerable? He
only knew that with Ellen it mattered and he wanted to see her happy.  He
wanted to be the reason she was happy.

      The
tingling and tightness in his groin reminded Gene of how badly he wanted her. 
The idea of having to wait for that pleasure was frustrating.  There was no
doubt in Gene's mind that she would come to him. Women always did. It was just
a matter of time.  Ellen Anderson was definitely worth waiting for.

      Gene
knew deep down that he
was going to do everything in his power to get
her intimately into his life.  With Ellen he could see himself sharing a
lifetime with her. Gene shook his head again.  What little conscience he had
began to torture him.  Thoughts he didn't want to hear tormented him.  You’re
after her money, ole boy.  “No, I'm not.”

      “Did
you say something?”  Ellen turned and stared at him.

      Gene
felt his face suffuse with blood.  He didn't realize he had spoken loud enough
for her to hear.  “Uh...I said no."  He swatted at his head.  "This
damn fly is driving me nuts."  Then he smiled and held his arms out.
"Come over here.  Are we having fun, yet?”  He reached up to pull a leaf
from her hair.

      “Oh
yes. I’m loving this.  I'm so glad you got me come.”  Ellen ran a fishy sleeve
across her face then wrinkled her nose.  “Yuk.”

      Gene
chuckled and took her arm.  “Don’t do that, you’ll make it worse."  Taking
his kerchief, he began to dab at the smudges on her face as if she were a
child.  The closeness of her was making it hard for him to breathe.  Suddenly
embarrassed, Gene moved away from her.  “Are you hungry?  How about a sandwich
and cold drink?”

      “Sounds
wonderful.  I’m famished.”

      Gene
had a blanket laid out under a giant shade tree. Ellen looked down in
amazement. “My goodness, you’ve got enough food here to feed an army.”

      Gene
shrugged.  “I like to eat.”

      “Yes,
I can see that for myself.” There was fried chicken, potato salad, pickles,
chips, sandwiches, even cake. "Did you actually prepare all this food
yourself?"

      "Of
course I did."

      "Then
you must be some kind of cook."

      "That's
me."                                                    

      Gene
didn't miss the stares of some of the parents as he and Ellen shared the
blanket.  He knew no one would dare go to Martha.

      After
lunch, Ellen leaned back against the colossal trunk of an oak tree.  It was so
cool and peaceful here.  She really hated to get back out in the sun. Gene
settled himself next to her, close but not quiet touching.

      They
were comfortably silent. Ellen realized she enjoyed Gene's company perhaps more
than she wanted to. Guilt tore at her. It was barely four months.  Touching
Mark's ring, Ellen still considered herself very married.  She shouldn’t be
feeling this happy in the company of a man, even if it was innocent. Ellen
gazed at her diamond wedding ring hugging Mark's gold band on her finger.  What
was her problem?  Why couldn’t she accept being alone and grieve like a normal
widow?  Was it really so bad to want to be with a nice man who made her laugh
and showered her with attention? 

      With
lowered lashes Ellen glanced over at Gene.  His fishing hat was pulled down
over his face. She could hear his even breathing signaling that he was asleep. 
Gene was harmless, she reasoned.  This definitely was not a romantic thing. She
had no reason to feel guilty.  He even fell asleep sitting next to her.  Now,
just how exciting can she be to him?                

      “Hey,”
she nudged him.  “If I can’t sleep, nobody sleeps.  I think we’re supposed to
be helping these kids fish, aren’t we?  You've been holding this tree up long
enough.  I'm doing a lot more work than you are, lazy goof off.”

      “Huh?” 
Gene looked around.  “Oh yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to doze off like that."

      "Well,
get up off your lazy butt and help these kids with their poles and
fishing."  She started to stand up.

      "Don't
go yet.  Stay and talk to me for awhile.  Those kids don't need our help."

      Ellen
looked around. There seemed to be plenty of parents with the kids. Maybe she
wasn't needed. It didn't take much persuasion to keep her sitting in the shade.
With her back against the tree trunk,      Ellen looked at Gene.  He came into
her life at a very tragic moment and what they had together has blossomed into
a beautiful friendship. How much did she really know about this man?  He talked
about his childhood, but what about his personal life?  Was he married?  Divorced?
Did he have children?  He certainly seemed to have a lot of spare time. 
Perhaps he was divorced and alone just like herself.