A Wife in Sheep's Clothing

The front door to the home of Paul and Lynn Hew was almost never used. Mostly, they came and went through either the side door into the garage or the sliding glass doors onto the patio. To the right of the entry way was the formal living room, which was kept pristine and was the least used room in the house. At the end of the entry on the left lay the hallway that connected to three bedrooms, including a large master suite, and a guest bathroom. The formal living room was dark, with its massive curtains closed. There was a white camel-backed couch against the back wall and large wing-back chairs on either side, all facing a walnut coffee table.

None of this was of any significance before that day. But late that morning, Paul was sitting in the wing-back chair that faced away from the archway between the entry and living room. He had sat there many times when his wife was gone, contemplating his life and running through scenarios, trying to calculate his potential losses if he dared to end his sorry marriage. The friends they had in common would decide for themselves if they wanted to remain his or hers. This house would be gone. He would probably be strapped for alimony payments for years. Half of his net worth would disappear in a flash, along with legal expenses. In the end, he would still have to deal with Lynn, and she was a very vindictive bitch.

In the midst of his musings, he heard the side door open and knew that she was home from grocery shopping. He should have gotten up then and pretended that he'd been in their bedroom. If she caught him in the living room, there would be another argument.

Arguments in this household were a dime a dozen, and they were all begun by Lynn and consisted of unwarranted criticism of Paul for minor infractions, for some made up reason, or for nothing at all. He knew that she did it to keep him off balance and just for the hell of it. Lynn could carry on a running argument for weeks over the least little thing, and in the end, Paul always found some way to placate her enough to end it.

Life was just not worth living if there was constant friction, in his opinion. Better to settle a fight as soon as possible. The problem was that it was generally a short time until she started the next one. This situation was hopeless after their 10 years of marriage, and he could see no way out of it short of suicide, murder, or divorce. Still, he persisted in trying to make things better, mostly to preserve his own sanity these days rather than to make things nicer for his wife.

Paul heard the freezer door shut, and he knew she'd put away the frozen food. She would be sending him out to get the rest of the groceries in a couple of minutes. She did that sort of thing all the time. She ordered, and he was expected not only to obey but to tolerate her criticism while he performed the action. 'No, I want the cereal in the other cabinet this time,' she might say. Wanting to avoid her for as long as possible, he remained still. He waited for her to call his name, or worse, whistle for him. That whistle was almost too much for him to take these days. Just like a dog, he thought.

Instead of her voice, he heard light footsteps as she approached the entry way. If he had looked, he would have seen her stopping at the entry tiled floor and peering down the hallway, making sure she was alone. He waited quietly.

Lynn was thinking, "I should have called him in the car before I got home. It's hard to drive and talk, though. Oh, well, I'm safe right here. Paul's probably out back working on the gazebo like a good little husband."

In a few seconds, he heard the chirp of her cell phone as she dialed a number. She was now in the entry, just five feet away from the back of the chair where he sat.

"Hi, Daddy. Can you talk now?"

Daddy? Why is she calling him now?

"We're good for Thursday afternoon. I'll call him at work after 1 o'clock. He should be back from lunch by then. If he's at his desk, we'll be fine for a few hours. I'll open the back gate like always and see you about 2."

She was silent while the other party replied.

"Sure, Daddy," she cooed. "You can put that thing anywhere you like. You know I looooove your big ol' cock! I've gotta go and find out where my boy is now. See ya Thursday!"

He heard the flip phone snap shut and her footsteps trailing off across the carpet to the sliding glass door. She whistled and called toward the gazebo project he had been working on in the back yard. She apparently hadn't heard his labored breathing or the crashing sound of the blood pumping in his heart and head.

This was not Paul's first time in a tense situation, and he had automatic responses developed from his experiences in the army and elsewhere. First thing, don't panic. Unless you are discovered and actively under attack, use your knowledge to your own advantage and choose your own time to engage. Make your face blank. Control your breathing. Maintain. Be normal.

Paul stood and walked into the den.

"I'm here. I was in the bathroom. I've gotta run to the hardware store and get parts for the gazebo," he said as he crossed the den toward the kitchen and the side door, trying not to look at her. He was amazed that he had been able to get those words out of his mouth. He was amazed also that he didn't have his hands around her throat at this moment.

She turned to look as he strode by her and caught the redness in his face. "You need to wear a hat out there. You look like you're really getting sunburned. I don't want to look at your skin peeling off in a couple of days. By the way, there are groceries to bring in. Do that before you go anywhere, and don't be gone all day." She dropped her phone into her purse, which was on the kitchen counter, and headed out the back door to inspect Paul's work on the gazebo. There would be criticisms about it waiting for him when he returned.

That was Lynn all over. Almost everything she said to him involved a set of marching orders and an implied or explicit criticism.

As she stepped into the back yard, Paul retrieved her phone from the purse and looked up the last number she'd dialed. He memorized it quickly and placed her phone back in her purse.

Then Paul brought in the groceries, put them away, and drove off in his small pickup truck. But he didn't head for the hardware store. He stopped at a local park a couple of blocks away. For the first 15 minutes, he went over and over the short conversation he'd just overheard. He wanted to rehearse it in his brain so that every word was memorized. To be sure, he made notes. There was no doubt at all what it meant. No room for mistake. His wife was having an affair, and she was doing it in his house. Probably in his bed while he was at work. He was furious knowing that he was subsidizing her infidelity, working to support her while she cheated on him.

Who was the guy, the one she called 'Daddy'? It wasn't her real father, because the area code was local and her parents lived a thousand miles away in California. In the early days of their marriage, she sometimes called Paul 'Daddy' when they were making love. She had long since ceased doing that, but he remembered because it had seemed a little odd to him. He had initially thought that maybe she was signaling that she wanted kids, that she wanted him to be a daddy. But she had seemed relieved when, a couple of years into the marriage, they had decided not to have kids. She was definitely a daddy's girl, though.

Then he began to think of practical matters to determine what his best course of action was. She was going to let her lover in the back gate on Thursday. That meant he would be walking down the alley. He could ambush him there, but what would he do with his cheating wife? If her lover was walking, his car had to be somewhere nearby. It hit him. Her lover would probably leave his car right here at the park.

Who was this guy, and how could he find that out? The obvious thing would be to call the number he got off her cell phone. He could have someone else call it, as if by mistake, and try to get him to say who he was. A woman would be most likely to get that info. Who did he know that would make the call?

Who else might know about this? That answer was simple. Lynn's best friend was Sue, and if Sue didn't know about it, he didn't think anyone else would either. Maybe Lynn's sister would know, but that was doubtful. Ever since she'd been ostracized by the rest of the family for her messy divorce, she and Lynn had not been close.

Could he ask Sue? He had known her as long as Lynn had, and Sue had always been his friend, too. But women could be more loyal to each other than to their spouses sometimes.

Sue was married to Nick, who was 15 years her senior, and the pair seemed to be the most loving couple in the world. He figured that Sue would tell Nick almost anything. Would she tell him about Lynn, though? He counted Nick as a friend. They weren't close friends, but Nick was an upstanding guy, and he would have thought Nick would have told him if he'd known about something like this.

Paul decided to try Nick. That meant a drive to the golf course, where Nick, who was semi-retired, donated time on Saturdays as a sort of good will ambassador for the course, in exchange for a free round of golf during the week when the course was not full. On the way over, he planned his approach very carefully. He couldn't just blurt it out. What if the news got back to Sue and then to Lynn? He had to be cagey.

"Nick, I have a hypothetical question for you." Paul was riding in a golf cart with him as he went to check on conditions at the seventh hole. "If you were to have a confidential conversation with someone, would you feel obliged to keep it confidential, or would you share it with Sue?"

Nick gave him an odd glance and drove on several yards.

"Are you asking me to keep a secret from Sue?"

"I guess I'm asking if you and Sue always share what you hear from other people, even if you hear it in confidence. It's just a hypothetical."

Nick pulled over onto the grass. He turned to look directly at Paul, almost expectantly.

"Do you have a specific question for me? If you do, ask away," he said, with the same strange and intense look on his face.

"If I do ask a question, can you keep this conversation confidential?"

"Here's what I'll promise. I will never mention it unsolicited. But if Sue asks me, I won't lie to her. That's how I operate, Paul. I can keep a secret, but I won't lie to my wife, or to a friend."

Nick obviously knew something, and Paul felt that he wanted to tell him. He composed himself and put the question.

"Nick, do you know anything about an affair my wife may be having?"

"May be having? Technically, no."

"Let me rephrase. Do you know anything about an affair Lynn is having or has had in the past?"

It came pouring out of Nick, like a dam bursting.

"It was last New Year's, at the Holden's party. They were just about to do the fireworks display, and everybody was outside. Sue had gotten ill from the champagne. You know she hardly ever drinks. She went upstairs to the bathroom on the landing. She heard someone trying the door knob while she was getting sick in the toilet. When she washed up and left the bathroom, she heard noises coming from down the hall, where it turns toward some bedrooms. She was afraid that someone else might be ill, and she walked down there and looked. Lynn was up against the wall at the end of the hallway, and some big dude was...well, there's no good way to say it. He had her against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. Lynn saw Sue standing there, and she smiled and did a little wave-off, like, 'Get the hell out of here'.

"On the way home, she told me about it. Sue and Lynn are old friends, as you know, and she wanted to talk to Lynn before we decided to do anything. I said we should tell you right away. In the end, she had a talk with your wife, who told her that it had been a one-time thing, due to alcohol and a spat with you, as well as very aggressive moves from the guy. His name is Buddy White. Sue knows about him. He has a real reputation as a bully. He married money. His wife is a lawyer.

"So, Sue asked me to keep it quiet, since we didn't want to destroy your marriage over a single incident. But I told her, if you ever asked me about it directly, I wouldn't lie to you. It's been burning a hole in my heart these past five months. I'm so glad it's out, but I'm so sorry for you, man."

"Lynn lied to Sue. It's not over. She's been carrying on with this guy, or maybe it's some other guy by now. I heard her talking to him on the phone an hour ago."

"God, man, if I'd known I would've come to you. I'm so sorry, Paul. Let's go back to my place and see what Sue has to say. Maybe she knows something else."

They left the golf course in their own vehicles and made their way to Sue and Nick's. He broke the news to his wife and she sat down, crying. She had so hoped things would work out for Paul and Lynn. She would do anything to help if she could. When she heard that the affair was continuing, her demeanor changed. Sue felt a bit of Lynn's betrayal herself now. She had been assured that the affair was finished, and had based her action (or lack thereof) on that lie.

"Sue, there's one thing you might do for me. I checked Lynn's phone, and I have the number she called. Would you call him, pretend it's a wrong number, and try to get his name? I wanna make sure who she's seeing now."

Sue worked at home as an editor. She had a PhD in English Lit, and she had a background in theatre. Using her best acting technique and social engineering skills, she planned the call. She would use her flawless English accent, which never failed to impress. She dialed the number with the phone set on speaker.

"Hi, this is Buddy White."

Sue blinked. "Sorry, wrong number."

"Well, that was certainly not satisfying," she said, her whole scenario going out the window. But the information was clear. Lynn had not broken off the affair with White. One more bit of data established.

They talked for awhile about what to do next. Paul was adamant that he was going to catch the pair in the act, and it was going to be at their next encounter on Thursday. But he wanted more ammunition. He wanted to be prepared with as many facts as he could when he confronted his wife. That way, he could catch her not only 'in flagrante delicto', but in all of her lies that she would undoubtedly try to cover things up with.

"I can't really hire a detective to follow her around. I wouldn't know who to call, and she might not even see or talk to White before Thursday. Also, I expect a lot of expenses with the divorce and all. I need a quick way to get the goods on her."

They were quiet, thinking, for a minute or more.

"What if there was a mole?" Sue asked.

"What? What mole?"

"What if some friend of hers, say, her best friend, were to milk the story out of her?"

"You would do that?"

"Never underestimate a pissed-off woman, guys. I've had it with the bitch and how she's treated us all. I think I can come up with a story that will make her give it up to me."

For the next hour, they planned. Sue would call Lynn, saying she needed help desperately. They would arrange to meet Sunday morning for coffee. Nick would modify an old purse of Sue's to hold a video camera, and Sue would put it on the table to record every word and facial expression. By noon on Sunday, they should know much more.

-----

"Lynn, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Can you meet me for coffee in the morning? I'm in a situation, and you're the only one I know who has the experience to help me. And I trust you."

"What's up, Sue? Are you sick? Is Nick okay?"

"No, it's not that. Lynn, remember the party last New Year's? I have situation kind of like that..."

"Ahhh. I get it. I may be able to help you with that. How about 10 o'clock at that new coffee place at the mall? Pick us a nice quiet spot to talk. I'll see you there."

Secretly, Lynn was smiling. It's about time her old friend came out of her shell. She has been with that old bugger of a husband for years, and she could do a lot better. She was still cute. It would be hot to have someone to share stories with, like she used to do with her sister. She would love to help her friend shed her outdated ideas. In time, she could teach Sue everything her sister and, more importantly, her daddy had taught her about life.

Sue was at the coffee shop early and picked a table outside under an awning. She carefully set her purse up on the table and tried out the camera inside. She moved two chairs away from the table so that there was only one place for Lynn to sit. She made sure the angle was right and did some audio testing. The air was calm, so there shouldn't be any wind noise. She set it up so that she only had to reach in and click one button to begin recording. The 16 Gb card could hold lots of video. Nick had cleverly arranged the camera in the purse with Velcro straps to hold it firmly in place. He disguised the holes for the lens and mic so they appeared to be part of the pattern on the black purse. She was ready when Lynn appeared.

"Lynn, can you get us some coffee and I'll hold our place. This is the most private spot."

"Be right back."

Sue clicked the 'On' button when Lynn emerged from the shop with the drinks, quickly checking to make sure she was recording. They got the preliminaries out of the way quickly, and Sue launched her saga.

"Lynn, there's this guy, and he wants me. I don't know what to do. He's so cute, and it's been so long since Nick made love to me. Nick trusts me completely. I've never cheated on him, but I'm so tempted now. I'm asking you because I want to find out what you feel like, after the New Year's party... Am I gonna regret this if I do it?"

"Go for it, girl! Frankly, I can't understand why you haven't done this before. Nick's nice and all, but, honey, he's way over the hill. You're still young and cute. I've always admired how you look, but I've never understood why you waste your time with Nick."

"Wow, no remorse then? You sound like you really have it together on this. Was that party really just a one-time thing?"

"Honey, I won't lie to you now. I had to tell you that back then, or you might have let the cat out of the bag. But now that you're in a similar situation, we can share all this stuff. In fact, we'll be having some real hot talks."

"Lynn, tell me all about it. I'm so excited by this, now that I'm thinking about doing it myself. Where did it all start with you and Buddy? Are you two still...doing it?"

"You should see the look in your eyes. If you're not wet right now, I'll bet you will be in a few minutes. Okay, here's the story with Buddy. We actually met two months before that, at the Holden's Halloween party. I was wearing that leopard outfit, remember? Buddy kept eyeing me for the first hour or so, and I eyed him right back.

"When his wife was helping with the trick-or-treaters at the front door, and Paul was out back by the fire, Buddy came up beside me and whispered to meet him on the landing in five minutes. I just nodded my head at him. You know how big and crowded that party was, and the house is huge. It was easy to go back along the dark hallway and climb up to the landing. Nobody was around, since all the action was downstairs.

"When I got up to the landing, Buddy kissed me hard and then led me into the bathroom and locked the door. I had my leotard off in two seconds, and he fucked me sitting on his lap on the commode. Sue, he is huge, and he takes what he wants. That's what I like about him. No bullshit. No 'I love you'. None of that romantic crap. He just fucked the shit out of me, and I came like hell. We did it probably 20 times between then and New Year's. We were trying for a repeat of Halloween that night, but you were in the bathroom, so we had to go down the hallway. I would have fucked him in one of those bedrooms, but the Holdens had the doors locked."