Unhinged (18 page)

“What the fuck's going on?” I asked Dr. Dave as the panties flew off his finger.

“Oh.” He lost his smile, then regained it. “I'm, uh, I just came by to say hi to Jennifer. I, uh, was in the neighborhood. I came by here once before when her car broke down at the hospital. She told you that I dropped her off that day, didn't she?”

“What the fuck is he doing with your panties?” I asked. My first thought was to leap clear across the living room like a cheetah, disemboweling him with my claws. My worst fear about our relationship was playing out before my eyes. A man I had once suspected her of having an affair with was sitting in my living room holding a pair of my girlfriend's underwear. My new Zen state was out the window.

“Oh, Jesus.” Jennifer became very upset, but I wasn't reading guilt. I expected to hear a full confession of a longtime affair, and then I imagined ripping the doctor's legs off and dropping him off by that homeless man with an empty Icee cup for spare change.

“Nothing's going on,” the doctor yelled.

“Deck, listen to me. I'm not having an affair with him.” Jennifer came face-to-face with me. I found it difficult to look into her eyes. “A long, long time ago, the first year you didn't go to the Christmas party because we had that big fight, remember? I was upset. I drank a little too much and—”

Just then, Dr. Cranium got up and crept toward the door. “You guys have a lot to work out. I'm going to leave.”

My anger was at a peak. “If you come near her or my house again, I'll beat you until your face looks like chopped steak. I promise.”

I watched him leave as an awful taste developed in my mouth. If I still felt the need to see blood, I could always find him later. But Dr. Dave wasn't a friend or a brother, so I could hate him all I wanted without the feeling of betrayal, but if Jennifer had an affair, then I had to put the blame on her. My main concern—my only concern—was to control my anger, but at the moment I could see only red.

“I was drunk, and he said he'd give me a ride home.” Jennifer's voice cracked, and tears began to form as if she realized that her story might not be believable. I remained expressionless. “I passed out on the way home, and the next thing I knew David was shaking me. I was sleeping in the passenger seat.”

“He forced you?” I was still as a rock, but I could have been stuck with a pin and wouldn't have felt it.

“No, we didn't do anything. He shook me until I woke up. I was lying in my own urine. I pissed all over myself in David's car. It's the truth.”

I studied her. Her embarrassment mixed with her straightforwardness was almost convincing me, but I had seen the way the guy looked at her and she did like to flirt. However, thinking back to all the times that we'd gotten sloshed, she'd never pissed herself.

“You pissed in his BMW?” I asked skeptically.

“No. He had an Audi back then.” Jennifer sniffled.

“That silver one?” I asked, still angry.

“Yes. I pissed on his seat and on his carpeting. I took my panties off and forgot them on his floorboard. He dropped me off, and that was it. I swear. That's all that happened.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“We were fighting. I thought you'd accuse me of cheating like you are now.”

I stared at her. I wanted to believe her so bad, yet I also wanted to catch her in a lie. A tormenting scenario had always lurked in the back of my mind that she'd start an affair with this guy because he was a doctor and I was just a cop and I knew that he liked her.

Jennifer tried to hold me, but I pushed her back a few feet. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wish I would've told you.”

I walked into the kitchen and sat down. “What the fuck was he doing here now?” The anger in my voice was growing. “Dropping off your panties after all these years?”

“
No
. It's all innocent. I thought he threw my panties away, so I never asked for them back. Oh, he used to come on to me at the hospital, but I rejected him every time. Ask anyone there. Then he started seeing a nurse about six months after the Christmas party, and he finally left me alone. They broke up two months ago, and he started hitting on me again. I was afraid to tell you about it. He just came by out of the blue today telling me that he had something of mine he thought I would want back. I only let him in because it seemed rude not to. I didn't know he was going to whip out my panties. You have to believe me. I never did a single thing with him. I love you.”

“I want to believe you. But I come home to see this. Put yourself in my shoes.” I jumped off the chair like a coiled spring.

Jennifer kept her distance from me. I was going to break something very soon. “You know me. You know I'm not lying.” Her lips were quivering, but her eyes seemed to be full of truth.

In my mind, she was guilty, but in my heart, I wanted her to have remained faithful. I wasn't ready to believe my heart. It might've been my jealous insecurity, but I couldn't be in the relationship without trust.

I hugged her and let out a heavy sigh. “I have to get some air.”

She tried to kiss me as I walked toward the door. “I'll be back later. I want to get my head straight.”

I think she was caught by surprise because I didn't hear her say anything when I walked out.

I
came staggering home at one in the morning from a neighborhood bar. Jennifer had already gone to bed. I sneaked in, blindly making myself a smooth surface on the couch.

The more beers I had drank, the more I cursed her for cheating on me, and I didn't want to rehash it. However, my mind kept returning to a premonition of the future, a future without her. Would my life be better if I never knew the truth? Ignorance was bliss. If I was to tell her that I believed her, when in my heart I didn't, then I could end up resenting her and wondering about every guy she talked to.

I heard Jennifer get up at six in the morning for her seven o'clock shift. She was trying to move around silently, but I couldn't go back to sleep because yesterday's events were having a wrestling match with my hangover. I watched her cautiously approach to give me a light kiss. I didn't feel right doing it, but I kissed her.

“Your head hurt? You want some aspirin?” She touched my cheek.

“I'm okay. I'm still a little wound up.”

“Try to relax. I'll see you tonight, okay?” Jennifer kissed me again and then walked into the bathroom.

I waited until she left before hanging my head under a long, hot shower. It felt good.

I put the situation out of my mind and focused on the work I was no longer involved in. The more I thought about Greenwood playing both sides, the angrier I became. I wondered if I shouldn't take up my case with someone higher in authority. I could go to Superintendent of Police Manny Shanahan and have a formal review. But then I could be labeled a snitch or, at the very least, a crybaby.

I had met Manny at a police officer's funeral three years ago. Then I remembered a fellow cop telling me that Manny had graduated from Quantico, the FBI's National Academy, but after a couple of years of service, he decided not to go that route. The thought of making an appointment with an ex-Fed who would most likely side with Dorrick went down the drain with my shower water. Most likely he had already talked to Greenwood about the investigation anyway.

I got out of the shower and put on a pair of boxers and stared at myself in the mirror. My six-pack was slowly turning into a four-pack. I told myself not to become the cliché of an overweight cop with a donut in his mouth.

The hall air was cool when I stepped out of the foggy bathroom. If I thought of Jennifer, automatically Dr. Melon Head appeared on my couch smelling Jennifer's panties and twirling them while he laughed in my face. And then I got angry again.

I poured myself some coffee and fell into the sofa. I sat slouched in my underwear in silence, holding a cup of coffee that would burn my top layer of skin off if I spilled it.

Believe Jennifer.

I wanted a plan, some miraculous direction I could go in the Feds hadn't thought of, but my mind was numb.

I turned on FOX just for curiosity's sake, and there was Agent Wayne standing in front of a batch of microphones with Greenwood right beside him. My captain had failed to mention that a press conference had been scheduled for this morning. He was probably afraid I'd show up.

They were inside a huge room with a plain, light blue wall behind them. Wayne was dressed in a nice white shirt with a gold tie in contrast to Greenwood's wrinkled, faded blue polo shirt and fat blue and gold striped tie. Dorrick was nowhere to be seen.

Agent Wayne was caught in midsentence as the volume rose to its appropriate level. “. . . to break this case. Lotz knows we're after him. He knows there's no place to hide. It's just a matter of time before he's spotted and apprehended.”

A picture of Lotz spread halfway across the screen. Wayne squinted at the flashes going off in his face and pointed past the cameraman to a person I couldn't see.

Then I heard a question from a female reporter. “Is it true that the lead detectives were taken off this case? If so, why?”

“I'll handle this one.” Greenwood stepped in front of Agent Wayne. “We have no comment at the moment.”

I laughed at the ridiculous face Wayne made when Greenwood stepped back to his position. I'm sure he tried to control his natural reaction, but, Jesus, could Greenwood come across any more like Barney Fife?

As my laughter subsided, the idea I had been searching for finally hit me. Usually I was a by-the-book kind of guy, always playing by the rules, but this was different. I had been pushed off the playing field so far out of bounds that I was in the bleachers. And in that realm, anything goes.

I decided to go out partying. There was a certain club that closed down called The Castle where Spider used to go. I should investigate if it had reopened. There wasn't anything inappropriate about checking out the scene. Nothing was against regulations about going to a dance bar and having some fun and maybe asking a few questions while trying to make new friends. Keeping my cheating girlfriend out of harm's way was the most important reason to do it. But wouldn't catching Spider right under the Feds' noses be the ultimate revenge?

I found out that The Castle, situated just off Causeway Boulevard near Lakeside Mall, had become Tripper's. But the crowd was still the same—kids in their early twenties, wearing Gap and J.Crew, dancing to songs with monotonous beats that seemed to never end.

A little research on the Internet told me that Tripper's was dark, too loud to talk, and if you wanted to play pool, you had to wait a long time for your turn. Ecstasy was still big there, and if you knew the right people, some cocaine and heroin could find their way into your possession.

I had come up with a plan, and it was only 10:45 a.m. Jennifer was going to work a double and I had all day to be with myself, and I liked to keep busy. I looked around the house as dust floated in the sunbeams shooting through the room. We had old mail, clothes, and dirty dishes lying about as dust bunnies clung to furniture legs. It was time for a major cleaning. I put the television on Mute and slid six CDs into my stereo.