Matchmaker Bandit Novel Pt. 01

Two minutes later he was gone and five minutes after that I found myself alone and finally had time to consider everything that had happened.

At first I thought the whole thing had been my fault and that, perhaps, I had simply spent too much time at work and had ignored Joyce. Then it occurred to me, nobody made her decide to start seeing 'King' again. She never complained about my not being there for her while she was spending the money I was earning.

I don't know which hurt more, my balls or my heart when the cold hard truth finally sunk in that she probably never cared about me at all. If she ever had, she couldn't have left me lying on the floor the way she did.

Just before I fell asleep again, I made up my mind that the first thing I would do when I got home was to call a lawyer and see about filing for a divorce.

Chapter Three – "Coming Home"

While I was waiting to be discharged the next morning I finally had visitors. I had expected someone from work to come and see me and I was a little surprised when it turned out that my visitors were two representatives from the Atlanta police department.

One was a very tall black man who identified himself as Detective Rollins and the other was a much shorter, stocky Caucasian woman with a somewhat butch haircut that he introduced as Detective Williams.

After Detective Rollins asked me how I was doing, he asked me if I remembered what happened. I recounted what I could remember of the events that led to my being in the hospital to them. Throughout the whole time I was speaking, Detective Williams was busy making notes in her somewhat worn out notepad.

"You know, you're very lucky that the bullet did not hit anything vital and we are not here investigating a homicide."

I was tired of hearing everyone tell me how lucky I was and I guess I was a little curt when I snapped at her saying, "While I am equally as glad that you are not investigating a homicide today, I don't exactly feel very lucky right now. Somehow it does not seem very fortunate to me at all that I was shot by the asshole my wife was blowing!"

"Under the circumstances, that's quite understandable Mr. Collins," Detective Rollins said to me, as he handed me his business card then continued, "Be sure and call me immediately if you remember anything else or should your wife or 'King' try to contact you. One last thing, if you're up to it. When we have the paperwork finished, we'd like to bring it by later on and have you sign it. We'll call first if that's acceptable?"

To their credit, the Detectives didn't take my response personally but had responded quite professionally.

I felt bad about being short with them. After all, it wasn't their fault I was shot. I guess I was feeling guilty about being caught up in self-pity. They were right! It really could have been much worse and I really was very lucky to be alive and in one piece. I could have ended up ball-less or worse dead! After I decided to swallow my pride, admitted to him that he was right, and apologized for my rudeness, they both left just as the nurse returned to discharge me.

I had spent two days in the hospital and despite what had happened there, I was still looking forward to going home right up to the moment I walked in the door.

Until then it really hadn't hit me. I guess the sight of my blood on the living room floor was what did it or, maybe it was just all the medication they had been pumping into me for the last two days. But, when I saw the dried bloodstain on the floor, I suddenly became nauseous. I barely made it to the bathroom in time.

After I had finished emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet and rinsed the taste out of my mouth, I made up my mind that I was just going to have to deal with what had happened and headed back into the living room.

When I got there, I sat on the couch and just stared at my favorite chair trying to think of what to do next and tried to put the image of 'King' getting his knob polished by my soon to be ex-wife out of my mind.

Finally I decided to call my boss and explain to him why I hadn't been to work that day and that I would need the rest of the week off. I could tell that he wasn't happy from the tone of his voice, but what the hell, I had enough sick days saved up to have open heart surgery, a hip replacement and a carpal tunnel release and still not make a sizable dent in them.

When I hung up the phone, I checked both the caller ID log and answering machine messages. There were none. Any regrets I had about not being at work instantly disappeared when I realized that my boss didn't even care enough to call and find out why I wasn't at work.

I got my laptop, went into the bedroom and began looking up divorce attorneys on the Internet. Several calls later I found one that looked promising named Howard Booth.

To my good fortune, Mr. Booth was just starting his practice. Personally, I like lawyers that are not long out of law school and eager to get started. Things are still fresh in their mind and they tend to work cheaply. When he offered to come by and discuss the case with me I made up my mind that unless he came across like a total idiot I was going to hire him.

True to his word, Howard showed up at about 2:00 PM that afternoon. He seemed very concerned and asked if I was absolutely sure that I really wanted a divorce--that is, until he heard what had happened. About three hours and several forms later he left, seemingly quite pleased at having a new client.

Once he was gone, and after I refilled the icepack I was using to elevate the pain near my testicles, the doorbell rang. Icepack still in hand, I opened the door.

I was greeted with a lovely smile belonging to Margo Wilson, an old girlfriend whom I hadn't seen in about twenty years.

"Hi, Margo," I said as I smiled, then added, "Long time no see!" I was genuinely happy to see a familiar face.

Margo was standing there in one of those pastel colored uniforms that many women now working in doctor's offices wear. Normally, this attire is about the most unflattering thing for any woman to have on. But she made it look good, which is a tough thing for any woman to pull off.

As I greeted her, I couldn't help but notice that even though she had to be at least forty-two, she had hardly changed a bit. And, to my pleasant surprise was as beautiful as ever. Hell, if anything, the years had made her look even more beautiful.

I was about to tell her so but before I could get the words out, she wrapped her arms around me, gave me a gentle hug and said in that sexy British accent of hers, "I heard what happened to you; how are you doing, Kent Honey?"

"I'll get by," I said to her. "I'm sorry, I'm being a poor host. Would you like to come in and sit down for a while?" I asked.

She must have noticed the icepack in my hand because she said to me, "You should be sitting down, Honey! Do you need me to refill with ice for you?"

"No, thanks. I just filled it a minute ago." The ever growing pain in my scrotum told me I did not want to dwell too much on how beautiful she was. I said to her, "The living room's this way," and motioned in the direction of the living room.

After she saw the bloodstain on the floor, she stood there in silence as her face turned red with anger. Finally she proceeded to the couch and sat down.

Once she was sitting, I sat down in my favorite chair and lay the icepack on my right thigh. I wasn't about to set it in my crotch in front of her.

Before I could say anything, she jumped up from the couch, took the icepack from my thigh and very gently set it in my lap. "Don't be shy." She said, "I deal with these kinds of things all the time."

'How did she find out? And, for that matter, how could she possibly deal with these kinds of things all the time? Is there some kind of an epidemic of whackos out there running around trying to blow guys balls off?' I thought to myself.

As if reading my mind, she answered me; "I'm a nurse now. I work for Dr. Jennings. When I received your chart from the hospital and saw you were shot, I just had to come over and see how you were doing. I hope you don't mind my intrusion?"

For the first time since I was shot in the scrotum I felt embarrassed about it. I must have blushed because she said to me, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Honey, I told you I deal with these kind of things all the time. We have lots of men come into the office to receive vasectomies; it's nothing new to me."

I guess my embarrassment turned to anger because I said flippantly, "I didn't get a vasectomy, I got shot!" As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted saying them.

I had just started saying so when she cut me off and softly said in a most soothing voice, "It's OK, Kent, I understand. I'd be pissed off if I were you too. I know you must be tired after everything that has happened. Have you had anything to eat?"

She was right, I was angry, very tired and I hadn't eaten since leaving the hospital. It occurred to me that I was indeed hungry.

"I am kind of tired and the last thing I remember eating was breakfast at the hospital," I replied.

She frowned and said, "Well, then that's convenient since I haven't had dinner yet either. I know this really nice Italian restaurant near here that delivers. You still like Italian food don't you?" I nodded affirmatively. She continued, "Then why don't I order something from it and you go lie down for a cat-nap until the food arrives?"

"Sounds good to me. But I get to pay," I insisted.

Protesting, she said, "No, we'll have none of that! It was my idea so I get to pay! After all, I showed up at your doorstep as an uninvited guest. So you have no obligation to feed me! Now you go rest and I'll wake you when it gets here!"

It had been a long day. I was too tired to argue with her so I showed her where the remotes for the TV and satellite were before heading to the master bedroom to retire for my nap.

As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I recalled the good times we had sharing an apartment together with two other friends back in our college days some twenty-five years ago. We had been good friends but things had remained strictly platonic between us.

I was so serious back in those days about getting an education and going to work that I purposely avoided having a social life. It occurred to me as I drifted off to sleep that I couldn't recall seeing a wedding ring on her finger.

About an hour later I was awakened by the sound of Margo's sweet voice softly calling me from the doorway.

I remember as I walked through the living room noticing that she had cleaned up the blood from the floor. You couldn't even tell that anything had ever happened there. I could even hear the sounds of the washer and dryer going in the laundry room.

We sat down at the dinning room table and started eating as we began catching up on old times.

She told me she had been married until her husband had a midlife crisis. He left her for a young girl half his age only to be dumped by the girl two months later for a younger man. I couldn't help but laugh when she told me that when he came back to her begging forgiveness she told him to go 'wank' himself. That was six years ago. Margo also told me that when the last of their three children had joined the Coast Guard and left the 'nest', she re-entered the work place. She had been working for Dr. Jennings for about ten years now.

After listening to the other women in the office talking about their bad experiences in dating, and then observing of some of the things she had seen in Dr. Jennings office, she decided to remain single and take a break from relationships.

Considering what had just happened to me, I could see where she was coming from.

She asked me if I had heard from Marcia and I told her no. I was still pissed off about being shot and I told her that if I never saw Marcia again it would be too soon. I felt the need to explain why so I told her the whole story about what had happened.

Margo listened intently and then when I was finished, said to me, "What are you going to do? I know it's so soon but have you given it any thought?"

"Divorce the bitch!" I said angrily. I actually regretted saying the words. I looked at Margo for a moment and said, "What's happening to me? Three days ago I was as deeply in love with her as a man could be. Now, I don't think I'd care if the police found her dead body laying in a gutter."

Margo took her hand and placed on mine and said to me, "It's only natural to feel conflicted, Kent.

The woman you loved betrayed you with another man and left you for dead. I know it hurts, but time really will ease the pain. You've got a week off from work; take the time to recover both physically and mentally. Don't try to hurry back. Whatever you do, don't try to pretend that nothing has happened. It will just hit you much harder later. But most importantly, try to get out of this house as much as possible. There are too many reminders here. It helps. Trust me; I know."

She looked at her watch, reached into her purse and retrieved a business card; then wrote something on it. Afterwards, she said to me, "This is Dr. Jennings' business card and I have written my number on the back. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything or just if you need someone to talk to. I've got to be at work early tomorrow morning and have to be going but I will call you about noon and see how you are doing. Now hand me that icepack and let me refill it before I leave."

I did and when she came back with the icepack I escorted her to the door. After another hug she was gone and I was left once more alone in the house with just my thoughts to keep me company.

I decided to try to take my mind off of everything that had happened by paying some bills that I knew were about do. I got my laptop and logged onto my bank's site. I was shocked at how low the balance on our checking account was.

After looking at the transactions log, I could see that Joyce had been making regular cash withdrawals every week in the amount of two hundred dollars for almost the last four months, not to mention the unusually high debits paid to some rather overpriced local restaurants during the same time period.

It occurred to me that I better take a look at our savings account too. Except for six thousand dollars, it was almost empty. After my anger subsided, I logged into my broker's server and looked at my mutual funds; they were still untouched. I mentally made a note to call both my bank and broker in the morning and remove all access she had to our accounts. Then I thanked God that Joyce did not get at the mutual funds I had been contributing to for the last several years where most of what you laughingly call my wealth was.

The signs were all there! I just didn't see them. For one thing, Joyce and I had not been intimate for almost four months. At the time, I attributed it to the combination of my not being home enough and Joyce getting her periods. I realize now that it was no coincidence that Joyce 'cut me off' at just about the same time 'King' showed up in town.

But I didn't know all this at the time, and while I might be able to add numbers in hexadecimal, I simply couldn't add one slime ball plus one cheating wife and come up with one affair!

I know it sounds a little preposterous but you have to understand that at the time, between server upgrades, mass workstation shuffles and a host of other major projects I had been putting in so much overtime at work that I had been both too tired and stressed to pay attention to what was happening at home.

'Well,' I thought, 'I hope she enjoys it. It will be the last thing she ever gets from me!'

It had been a long day and I was both exhausted and severely pissed. After I shutdown my laptop, I took a shower and went to bed. Once there, I finally found the peaceful rest of sleep.

Chapter Four – "A New Beginning"

The next morning I was awakened by a call from Howard Booth telling me that he had filed the papers with the court that morning. He must have been up all night working on them! I told him how she had cleaned out my accounts. He said not to worry and that he would use every trick in the book to see to it that she never got another thing from me again.

I was still a bit sore but definitely feeling better so I decided to go to a local eatery and have breakfast. While I wasn't at the time interested, I was still flattered by the amount of attention I was getting from the rather cute waitress I had.

By the time I left the restaurant, I was in a much better mood than I had been in the day before so I decided instead of calling my bank that I would just go by.

An hour later I had closed our joint accounts, opened a new account in my own name and deposited the remaining money from both the checking and savings account into the new one. I called the broker from the bank and let her know I what I need and asked her how long it would take to process the paperwork. She told me to come by and that she would have the papers be ready by the time I got there. You've got to love quality service!

The phone was ringing when I walked in the door and I picked it up just before the answering machine caught it.

It was Margo. "Had lunch yet, Kent?" she asked.

I looked at the clock and sure enough, it was noon sharp! Wondering where the time had gone, I answered her, "Nope, just got in. I haven't had time to make anything yet."

"Feel like going out? Or have you got plans already?" She inquired.

I looked around the house and thought about it for a second. I really didn't want to be home just yet. "Sure, but this time I pay. OK?"

"Want me to pick you up or would you rather meet somewhere?" She responded.

Trying to think of someplace nice that was close to where she worked I asked her, "Can you meet me a Stonewall's on Tenth Street in about ten minutes?"

We met; we ate and spent more time talking about old times. And while I didn't think of it at the time, it was our first date together, one of many that we would disguise under the pretense of rekindling our friendship over the next few months.

Chapter Five – "Legal Maneuvering"

It had been two months since I was shot and I had returned to work. I found out that the company I worked for had been bought and all the unallocated stock in their Employ Stock Option program was going to be disbursed to the employees according to some bizarre formula management had worked out.

When all was said and done, because of my time and pay-grade, I would end up with about two million dollars in stock. I had to immediately reinvest it into some form of retirement fund or Uncle Sam would eat me alive in taxes.

The first thing I did was to call Howard and tell him about it. He told me not to tell anyone else about it yet and told me that if I got a call from the police regarding Joyce to call him immediately. Not to talk to them or her unless he was present. I was confused, but he was the lawyer and I figured he knew what he was doing.

As luck would have it I got a call two days later from Detective Rollins telling me that 'King' and Joyce had been found. Since the detective asked me to come down to the station, I called Howard after hung up the phone. Howard told me to go on down to the police station and that he would meet me there.

When I got there Howard was already waiting for me. As soon as I walked in the door, he took me aside and whispered to me, "How badly do you want to get back at your ex-wife?"

"I just want her out of my life for good." I said earnestly.

He smiled and said to me, "That's what I was hoping you would say. Let me handle this. I think you will be happy."

Then, as Detective Rollins came over towards us Howard walked up to him and asked to speak to him alone for a second.