Evil Woman

"It was almost like we were back in high school," Taylor went on, "where she had been the Queen and Jon Pierre was her King. She treated us all as her subjects. As if she was better than us."

"Finally Melinda realized that she may have said too much. She warned us not to repeat a word of this to anyone."

"I struggled with this all week," Taylor told me, "but I knew what a great guy you were and how you helped Janice get her job. I just had to tell you."

I sat stunned. I knew Melinda could be self absorbed, but this was something different. I knew if she abandoned those girls, sticking them with her mother, they would never have the support they'd need. She seemed to have no regard whatsoever for her daughters.

This was evil. Evil certainly to me but evil towards the girls too. She was, I realized, just an evil woman.

I had a lot to think about. One thing I knew, there was no way I was going to let them get away with this.

Taylor babbled on for a while about how bad she felt. Finally I got up, thanked her, and then she gave me a tight hug. Under different circumstances I would have enjoyed that physical sensation much more. Not tonight, I had too much to think about.

The following day, Friday, I told myself I was going to give a 100% effort to my business. I would address the subject of Melinda later.

If anything the demands for our products and the complaints about the Van Duzen material increased. We were now taking orders we would not be able to ship for weeks. The marketplace didn't care, they just were just happy to know they'd get their material from us at some point.

Mid afternoon I received a call from Jack Valentine. He asked about business, he had heard about the defective Van Duzen lumber at McClains and elsewhere. We chatted about lumber for a few more minutes.

"Look Jack, it's going crazy here, I better jump off," I told him.

"Okay," he said, "but there is something I need to talk to you about but it can wait. I'll call you in a few weeks and we can grab lunch."

I agreed.

At the end of the day I reevaluated my budget projections. We were trending +30% over my original budget. I was very pleased with this new information.

Now, I thought, I was going to have to think about Melinda.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I continued to think as I ran along the trail that Saturday morning. I knew I had an advantage knowing, thanks to Taylor, what their grand plan was. My weakness was for the girls. She knew she could manipulate me using them as her leverage. Purely evil.

I reviewed my options over and over as I ran. Each idea had some type of stumbling block that would leave either the business or the girls vulnerable. Finally I arrived upon a plan. It certainly wasn't perfect but it could work. The results would be severe, but I could not figure out how else to save the girls. Several times I questioned myself whether I could pull it off. I decided I had to.

Later I called Melinda and demanded we meet at the house tonight at six PM. She agreed.

"And Kevin," she said, "Jon Pierre will be here too."

For the sake of the plan I protested and acted angry about Jon Pierre. Actually it was perfect.

That morning I had things to do. First I had to find a library that had internet access, not local. Next a grocery store, one that sold prepared food. Somewhere not near me.

I found the library, waited for thirty minutes for the computer. I did my research. Not perfect but it was close. I googled several other subjects just to try and cover my tracks. I thought it would be nearly impossible to link my activity at the library back to me, but I covered my bases anyway.

Next, the grocery store. My purchases included several non-perishable items, rice, coffee, a six pack of expensive beer, some thin rubber gloves, as well as a jar of off the shelf cocktail sauce. I also purchased a prepackaged tray of jumbo cooked shrimp. There was a small bowl of red cocktail sauce in the center of the clear plastic platter, the jumbo shrimp surrounding it.

My next stop was my office. On Saturday no one was in the building but me. There were no security cameras. I carefully carried my grocery store purchases into my small kitchenette. I put on my recently purchased gloves, and then found my travel backpack.

Yep. It was still there. I very carefully planned my next step.

At six PM sharp I was at my house. I didn't bother to knock, but I almost felt like I should. I brought a brown anonymous grocery bag with logos from a store different from the one I had made my purchases at earlier.

"Kevin, welcome, come in," Jon Pierre acted magnanimous in his host-like greeting.

This is my house you mother fucker I thought, but I kept my face bland, slightly subservient.

"Mel," he called up the stairs, "Kevin is here."

"Please sit," he said as he ushered me into my kitchen to sit at my table.

"What do we have in the bag?" He asked and nodded toward the paper bag I had brought in.

I opened the bag and brought out a six pack of premium beer and the large round tray of shrimp with the small bowl of cocktail sauce in the center all covered by a clear plastic top. There were a couple of other things I left in the bag as I set it down on the floor.

"I realize we need to be civilized when we have our discussion," I said to Jon Pierre.

"So true, my friend," Jon Pierre replied as he began to dig into the shrimp, dunking it into the cocktail sauce.

Just then Melinda entered the kitchen. To her credit she did look uncomfortable, slightly guilty, about the circumstances of our meeting tonight.

"Melinda, look what Kevin has brought to us," and then he motioned toward the shrimp, "it is delicious," he said, licking bits of cocktail sauce off his fingers.

Melinda tentatively picked up a shrimp and dipped it in the cocktail sauce.

"Thank you Kevin," she quietly told me.

To mask the fact that I wasn't eating I grabbed a beer. Jon Pierre opened his second beer.

"So," I said, "it's your show. Tell me what you are thinking."

Melinda then gave me a severely watered down version of what Taylor had already told me. No mention of her mother moving in with the girls or selling my business. Tonight the topic was my house.

"I think it's in the girls best interest if they stay here, at the house." Melinda told me. "And of course as their mother I need to be here too."

Jon Pierre continued shoveling in the shrimp, nodding his head in agreement, but his true concentration was on the food.

"And what is it you propose we do about our marriage?" I asked. Knowing full well what her plan was.

"Kevin," she began her head cocked with a look of sympathy on her face, "you are still important to me. I'll never forget how you helped me and the girls so much when they were younger. You'll always be a part of our lives."

"But Jon Pierre is their father, and we've reconnected. I think a quiet divorce would be best. For the sake of the girls." She told me.

I sat quietly nodding, so far I'd seen no effects.

"Do you like the shrimp?" I asked Melinda.

"Oh yes," she exclaimed and grabbed another piece, dipped in the sauce and ate it.

"You see Kevin, as Melinda said you have been an important part of all our lives," Jon Pierre began to pontificate.

"There were times in my younger days when I may have made some judgement errors, perhaps some mistakes along the way," he said with great seriousness, shaking his head as he pondered these slight failures.

I noticed Melinda dipping in another shrimp. No one seemed to care that I hadn't eaten any.

Jon Pierre continued.

"Fortunately, as I was struggling, Melinda found you." He said with an insincere smile on his face. "You did a wonderful job of providing a home for my girls." He spread his arms up in an encompassing gesture and glanced around my house.

You Kevin," he went on, "were my place holder, and I thank you." A slight bow of his head toward me, "You gave them a sanctuary when they needed it, and now," he said with a wide grin, "it is time for me to take over again."

Any remorse I may have had for this asshole had now evaporated.

I watched Melinda looking at him. He had some type of power over her. She was smart, but she still fell for his line of BS. The good news, she continued to eat the shrimp.

"Now Kevin I think we are all intelligent adults and we can together determine the best path forward" he blathered on, "we need to think first and foremost about the girls and their welfa..." Mid sentence he slumped to the side not able to finish his thought.

Jon Pierre slipped from his sitting position onto the kitchen floor. He started convulsing and a pink tinted foam escaped his lips. His eyes, wide open, rolled back exposing the sclera.

"Jon Pierre," Melinda screamed, "Kevin, look at him. Do something!" She shrieked.

I knew, through my research, the toxicity of the poison increased the longer it was not addressed. There were antidotes, but they had to be administered quickly.

I feigned indecision, moving toward the bathroom to get a towel, freezing and then moving back into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I acted frantic. In fact I was stalling. In a strange way I was enjoying the disaster.

"Maybe I need to call 911?" I asked Melinda. Continuing my stalling.

At that point I turned toward Melinda I think, she nodded. Then she seemed to have frozen. Not the same convulsions that Jon Pierre was experiencing, but more of a slightly shaking paralysis.

"Kevin,' she whispered to me, "help me," she choked out.

At this point she was affected. Not nearly as bad as Jon Pierre. He'd shoveled down far more of the shrimp dipped in the toxic cocktail sauce. She seemed immobilized, her speech now impeded but her eyes followed me. She was conscious but the toxins had acted upon her nervous system. She appeared to be unable to move.

She saw me, her eyes following my activities, as I carefully put on the rubber gloves that I retrieved from the grocery bag. I then took the small bowl of depleted cocktail sauce off the table and poured it into the sink. The same sink years ago I had installed a garbage disposal within.

Then, with deliberation, I poured the tainted sauce down the drain, allowing the water and the grinding disposal to run far longer than was necessary.

I wanted all the evidence gone.

Her eyes tracking me, mute, she watched me then retrieve the small glass container of the over the counter sauce out of the bag.

Her eyes pleaded with me for help and there was a moment that I felt compassion for her, and then I thought about what Taylor had told me about their plans. My resolve was reinforced.

Carefully I opened the new jar of cocktail sauce and poured it in the center bowl. With gloves on I smeared a bit of the new sauce on my shirtsleeve.

I rinsed out the new jar, took it down to the basement and filled it with miscellaneous nails, screws, and washers. I then set it on my workbench with several other similar jars of fasteners.

I then went upstairs, removed the rubber gloves and called 911. I put a definite frantic tone in my voice while calling in the emergency.

Twenty minutes later the ambulance showed up.

"My wife, our friend, please help." I said to the paramedics. I felt I'd put sufficient panic in my voice to be believable.

By the time they left Jon Pierre was dead and Melinda was alive, but not doing well. Later I was contacted by the police.

The early diagnosis from the hospital was severe paralytic shellfish poisoning. I had researched and knew that the poison from the golden poison dart frog, Phyllobates Terribilis, had enough toxins to kill ten men. I also saw that some of the same reactions seen in shellfish poisoning were similar as from Phyllobates Terribilis.

The police asked about the circumstances of our meeting. I explained we were discussing custody issues with the children. That our relationship with Jon Pierre was cordial and it was not uncommon for him to spend time at our house.

After answering their questions there seemed to be no suspicion aimed my direction for the misfortune that had killed Jon Pierre and paralyzed Melinda.

Sure, they nosed around a little and even removed the nearly empty tray of shrimp. I never heard if that had been analyzed or not. I never asked.

All my planning may not have been necessary.

And yes, Melinda was alive. Completely paralyzed but alive. The doctor said he'd never seen anything like it. The toxic effects of the shellfish normally made people ill with some slight paralysis in cases. This was unusual, the doctor said, shaking his head at another one of life's medical mysteries.

It was with true grief that I explained to the girls about the 'accident' that took Jon Pierre's life and paralyzed their mother.

Between the three of us real tears were shed. And then Esme asked the question I had been expecting.

"What's going to happen to us?" She asked with a frightened look in her eyes.

"Well," I began, "you could probably live with your grandma," as I said this I could see the beginnings of their protestations. Francine looked at me with a worried look and Esme shook her head negatively.

Melinda's mom is a nice enough person and probably is fine for a long weekend or maybe a week watching the girls. But she would not be the firm parent these girls were going to need through their teen years. And even at their age they knew it.

"Or," I continued, "the three of us could all just continue to live here."

They were both nodding their heads 'yes' at that suggestion.

Years ago before we first got married Melinda and I bought a long term care insurance policy. If you recall, we bought this based on her father's neurological illness and the strain it put on Melinda's mother to take care of him.

We bought the most expensive policy and faithfully paid the large premium every month. Who would have known back then the circumstances of which the value of the policy was now being used.

Every Sunday the girls and I visited 'Ellenhurst' an adult care facility in Bridger, about fifteen miles away. We would normally bring flowers to brighten up the starkness of her room.

I would watch her eyes as the girls would tell her about school, their friends, certain television programs, and their lives. I do believe I saw flashes of true warmth as she listened to the girls talk.

It was different when she looked at me. Somehow through her motionless state she was able to convey anger when she looked at me. I think it was more than my imagination, but the girls never seemed to notice.

But I saw the hatred in her eyes.

I asked the doctor at Ellenhurst about her condition.

"It is highly unlikely she'll recover," he told me. "If somehow she had gotten medical assistance quicker it may have been different. By the time she was at the hospital her nervous system was too traumatized." He explained.

"Her brain is fine and so is her eyesight. She can hear and understand what is being said. But her nervous system was compromised so she can neither move nor speak."

"The good news is beyond that she appears to be healthy and should have many years left." He added.

"Did you hear that Honey?" I asked her after the doctor had left. "the doctor said you're healthy." I said with a broad grin..

I didn't think it was possible, but her eyes reflected even greater hatred as she stared at me.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

many months later

Finally a vacation, I thought as the jet flew off heading southwest. We had been talking for months but it had been a long time since I'd actually seen her. I had been attracted to her way back to that dance in high school. This will be interesting meeting her there. We had talked about our plans and I think this will be a surprise for her. I hope she enjoys it as much as I think I will.

Melinda's mom was happily having the girls for the week.

Many things had changed and some remained the same. The girls and I lived in my house, and yes they missed their mother but for the most part they seemed to be doing well. Jon Pierre was rarely mentioned.

Another thing that remained the same was my long distance friendship with Mafii. He never asked if I used the 'bantiq' and I never mentioned it. I recalled my last visit to see him.

"Kebin," he said, clasping me across my shoulders, "Mafii see you happy now."

I just nodded, there was no explanation needed.

My business had changed too. Over the course of the last year Jack Valentine and I had merged our businesses. That was what Jack had wanted to talk to me about months ago. Jack was CEO and I was president. Together we now had twenty two employees and business was great.

Sometimes I missed the frantic times when it was just the four of us, Ryan, Janice, Albert and me. But there were many more times I was glad for the structure of our larger company.

Like right now, with Jack in charge I could take a well deserved week long vacation to Maui.

She was coming from Japan where she'd been working. Our communication over the past months had all been remote. I guess that's how relationships happen in today's world. Finally we'd be together. My flight landed about an hour before hers. I'd get the rental car.

To finally see her and hug her after all our correspondence was incredible. She looked even better in person.

"Oh god, what a flight," she sighed.

"Our check in time at the hotel isn't until four o'clock," I told her.

"Just take me to the beach, I've got my swimsuit on under my clothes, I need to feel the ocean," she told me.

"Okay," I smiled.

Finally I thought, this will be interesting.

We parked and stripped down to our swimsuits. She looked better than she had in high school. She caught me looking again and smiled.

"This way," I told her as we walked across the hot sand.

We climbed over the rocky outcrop and there was a beautiful cove on the other side. I wondered how long it would take her to notice.

We were about halfway down before she got it.

"A nude beach!" She asked. She stopped and looked at me. I couldn't quite tell if she was mad or not.

We kept walking. We found a place and laid out our beach towels.

"Nicole," I said, "you don't have to take anything off."

Yes it was Taylor's cousin Nicole Arnez, my senior prom date. With the described fantastic boobs.

She looked at me, smiled and said, "when in Rome." And off went her top.

There had been no exaggeration. They were fantastic.

"Beside's, I remember you ogling me at our first date in high school, it's about time you saw them live and up close. What do you think?" She said as her hands cupped the bottom of her breasts, presenting her beautiful tits to me.

"I better get you some sunscreen." I said with a smile.

THE END