Fooled Me Twice Pt. 06

"Lieutenant, I finally realized that all of the evil Liz episodes that happened in my life could have been attempts to get me to blow up and hit her. I'm worth a lot of money, and she's a beautiful woman. Maybe I am just a mark for a con woman." I didn't believe a word I said.

After taking my belt and shoes, they put me in a cell, and I laid down and went to sleep.

I woke up because a worker with a cart came by and handed me a breakfast tray. I took it and looked at my breakfast; runny scrambled eggs, soggy potatoes, two pieces of brittle bacon, two slices of burnt toast without butter, and a juice box. I was so hungry I ate everything, and it was better than most of Liz's meals lately. Later that afternoon, after a PBJ lunch, I was taken back to the interrogation room, where Lieut. Collier and the detective were waiting.

"Are you sure you don't want a lawyer?"

"I'm sure."

"We still haven't been able to reach your two coworkers, but your neighbors have described some of the loud arguments you and your wife have had. So what's up with your mother? She talks about you like you're an ax murderer, but your dad talks about you like you can walk on water."

I explained to the Lieutenant what I had been going through the last year and a half. They put me back in the same cell, and I ate meatloaf and mashed potatoes before sleeping again.

The next day was the same, Sunday, I think, except the only visitors I had were the people bringing meals.

Monday, just before lunch was served, I was led out of my cell, except this time, I wasn't handcuffed, and the officer took me to an office belonging to Lieut. Collier. He apologized for holding me for two and a half days until they finished taking statements from everyone.

"I'm sorry it took so long getting to the bottom of this, but your wife had a lot of accusations, and except for your mother, no one else could corroborate your wife's story. I talked to Viktor and Carmen this morning, and they confirmed what time you left work Friday night. Both of them had gone out of town Friday night and left their work cell phones at home."

"Your wife lied to us, bringing up previous injuries for which she had to seek treatment at different emergency rooms. We couldn't find any record of her visiting the three local emergency rooms or any within fifty miles. You're free to go, Marty. Two of my uniforms will drive you home because I want them to bring your wife in so we can have a chat."

So I rode home in the backseat of the police car, but this time my hands were in my lap. When I opened the door, the sound of little Catherine crying her lungs out in her bedroom upstairs echoed around the house. I took the steps two at a time as I raced up the staircase, followed closely by the officers. My baby girl was standing up in her crib, and judging by the smell from her room, she had a full diaper. I picked her up and took her to the changing table.

"Shush, my little Cat. Daddy's here. Yes, Daddy knows his girls' upset."

"Sir, is it all right if we check the house," asked the male police officer?

"Sure," I answered as I peeled her Cinderella PJs off so I could change her stinky diaper. She stopped crying and was trying to pick my nose as I peeled the diaper off. It was so full it looked like she had pooped twice, which meant, oh my god, where was Liz?

I used a half dozen wipes to clean her up and saw diaper rash all around her front and back. I put a thick covering of Desitin on and cleaned my hands with a wipe before putting a diaper on her. Dressing her in my favorite yellow dress, I carried her through her doorway, intending to go downstairs to the kitchen.

"Sir. This door is locked. Do you have a key?"

"That's the master suite; my key's in my car, but the spare key is taped to the underside of the table drawer." I pointed at the half table against the wall.

The female police officer I spoke to, Sergeant Miller, pulled the drawer out and found the key. I smelled something harsh and smoky when she unlocked and opened the bedroom door.

"Mr. Stevens, stay in the hallway." That was the male cop speaking, Officer Jacobs, as they both pulled their weapons and entered my bedroom.

I didn't follow them in; I moved over to see the bed. Officer Jacobs went into my walk-in closet on the right. Sergeant Miller was kneeling, looking at something on the floor on Liz's side of the bed. I couldn't see what she was looking at without going in. She stood up as Jacobs came out of Liz's walk-in. They spoke quietly, and Officer Jacobs came out and guided me downstairs. I heard Miller talking, and she said something that sounded like 10-55 or 10-56, but I could be wrong.

When I got to the kitchen, I warmed a bottle of formula for my little Cat and carried her into the living room to feed. She had drunk about half her bottle when two men in suits came through the front door and went upstairs. She finished her bottle with a smile and gave me a couple of loud burps before I leaned back and rocked her gently in my arms.

Where was Liz? How could she go off and leave our baby all alone? I felt so tired. Maybe Mom would talk to me and come over. I went to the house phone and called Mom.

"Hello, Liz."

"No, mom, it's me, Marty. Liz isn't here, and the police haven't found her yet. Do you think you can come over and help me with Cat? Liz left her all alone."

"How did you get out of jail?"

"Momma, they let me out because I didn't do anything, and I had...." And I stopped talking when an ambulance gurney came through the front door and was carried upstairs by two EMTs, followed by a man carrying a doctor's bag.

I started crying because I guessed what the police officers were looking at on the floor beside her bed.

"Momma, they carried in a stretcher and took it upstairs. Something terrible has happened, momma. Please come over."

"We'll be right over," but she still sounded cold toward me.

I set the phone down and walked to the bottom of the stairs, looking up and seeing the stretcher and the two EMTs standing outside our bedroom. I looked outside through the open doorway and saw several police cars with lights on. I walked out onto the porch, and it was much worse than I thought. There were six police cars with lights flashing, an ambulance, and a van labeled medical examiner. Two officers were hanging yellow crime tape around the house, and another led a K9 dog toward my backyard.

I stumbled back inside and sat in my wooden rocking chair, trying to deny what I knew to be the truth. Someone was dead upstairs, and it had to be Liz. I don't know how much time passed as I stared at the front entry before the stretcher came back down. A body was inside a sealed bag with a zipper, but I couldn't see a face. I jumped up, clutching Cat tight, and staggered toward the entryway only to be stopped by Sergeant Miller.

"Stop, Mr. Stevens. Let them go. There's nothing you can do."

"Is that, is that Liz?"

She gave a short nod but didn't say anything.

"Are my parents here? I called them."

"Detective Toler is bringing them up. Here they are."

"Mom! Dad! I..."

Crack. Mom wound up and snapped my head back with a slap I did not see coming. Then, as I was trying to get my bearings, she grabbed Cat out of my arms and was out the front door before I could take a breath. My dad just shook his head and followed her out. I tried to follow, and the detective with them grabbed me and put handcuffs on my wrists behind my back.

"Detective Toler! You need to speak to Lt. Collier before you do something you will regret."

"Sergeant, uh, Miller. Kindly keep your nose out of my business and move out of my way, NOW."

"It's your funeral."

He walked me back to his car and pushed me into the back seat. The detective then got behind the wheel and drove off from my house.

"You're going to prison for killing your wife. Why don't you confess and get your guilt off your chest?"

I didn't respond, and he kept talking, but I wasn't listening. When we reached the police station and parked, the detective walked me to a side door by lifting my arms behind my back. It hurt, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg.

He said something to the desk Sergeant and pushed me into a small room with a table and three chairs. He did the handcuff thing to a ring on the table again. After shoving me into a chair, he went out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him.

He left me alone in an interrogation room, and my brain was overloaded thinking about some of the happy times and Cat, our nine-month-old daughter. We were so happy two years ago when we married; now everything was upside down. Finally, I put my head down on the table and closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off because I jerked my head up off the table when I heard angry voices coming from the hallway. I couldn't understand what was said; maybe they wanted to take turns beating me with a rubber hose. The door opened as the yelling stopped, revealing Lt. Collier, Detective Toler, and a young officer in uniform.

They all stared at me, and I stared back before Lt. Collier spoke, "Take the cuffs off him, Toler."

The detective muttered something under his breath and slowly walked behind me. Collier spoke to me when my hands were free, "Mr. Stevens, you are free to go, but before you leave, I would like to speak to you. If you want to hit the head first, this patrolman can show you where it is."

"Let's talk now so that I can get my baby."

I followed the Lieutenant to his office, and he indicated which chair I should sit in. Toler sat in a chair next to the door; he didn't look as angry as he was when he cuffed me.

Collier sat down and placed his hands on his desk, palm down. "Mr. Stevens. I can't begin to apologize enough for you being perp-walked out of your house in handcuffs. There's no excuse for Detective Toler's actions today, and the department will take steps to encourage him to think before acting incredibly stupid. I'm waiting for Detective Ellis to bring a copy of the note left by your wife."

"She's dead, isn't she? That was her body in that bag on the stretcher."

"Yes. Time of death was somewhere between 10 PM and midnight yesterday."

Liz is dead, now what do I do? "And I couldn't have killed her because I was in jail. How did she die?"

"She left you a note, Martin. Is it all right if I call you Martin?"

"Marty is fine. Can I see the note?"

"Marty, is there someone you can call to be with you?"

"My sister Danni lives ten minutes away, Lieutenant."

"Call me Tony, Marty." He handed me my cellphone, and I hit her quick-dial button.

"Hi Marty, are you all right? Dad called me and told us about jail and again about Liz. I'm so sorry little brother."

"Thanks. Can you come down to the police station? Liz left me a note, and Tony, the Lieutenant in charge, said he wants someone I know here when I read it."

"I'll be right there."

Lt. Collier was on his desk phone talking to someone when I hung up and started to cry.

"What's wrong, Marty?"

"It's just starting to sink in; she's gone, and my little Cat will never know her mother." I stopped talking and stared at the wall, trying to keep my mind empty of thoughts.

Time passed quickly, and Danni came through the doorway, escorted by a female officer. She hugged me and asked, "Where's Cat?"

"Mom grabbed her when they brought me down here. So after I finish here, I'm going to get her."

A man in a suit came in, carrying a folder and a box of tissues, and closed the door. "Mr. Stevens, I'm Detective George Ellis. This young lady is your sister?"

"Yes, I'm Danni Stevens Chambers."

Lt. Collier took over, "Your wife left a note, more like a confession, on your dresser. George is here because he is also a licensed clinical psychologist and can explain some terms in her letter. So here is a copy for you to keep, and I'll let you read it now. Any questions you have, please ask George. I have to speak to the chief, so take your time."

He slid one sheet of paper toward me and left the room, and after staring at it for a few seconds, I picked it up and began to read.

------

"Dearest Marty,"

The tears started flooding my eyes and dripping down my cheeks as I stared at her handwriting. Det. Ellis slid the tissues to me. After I got control, I started reading again.

"Dearest Marty,

Please forgive me for my lies and for taking a coward's way out. This mess is all on me. When we first met, my condition was mild and not dangerous to anyone. However, as you must have noticed, I have been more erratic for the last six months, and we have had some significant arguments. The last one, four nights ago, resulted in you being arrested, even though you did nothing wrong. I, we, lied to the police to make that happen. I must end this destructive cycle before more harm is inflicted upon you or Cat.

I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID. The short version is I am two people inside one body. To separate the two personalities so you understand, I am Liz, your lover and the one you met and fell in love with. The other is Lizzy, who lived on the edge of a razor blade. We are aware of each other, and we talk to each other and scream when we argue, which you may have overheard. If asked about the voices, we would claim we were talking out loud to ourselves, almost the truth.

I started consulting with a Psychologist two years before my adoptive parents died when I started having blackouts. I wasn't aware of Lizzy then, and the doctor prescribed medication to help, but it left me unable to function in high school. I never told my parents what was happening in my mind and stopped taking the medicine. So blame me for everything.

When one of us has control of our body, the other is trapped inside, aware of what is going on but unable to interfere, with exceptions. If the person in control desires, we can both speak out loud, but only one of us can talk at a time. If the person in control causes harm to someone we love, and she won't stop, then the other person can force the switch. Do you remember when she was doing the strap-on to you, and you said the Safeword? Lizzy wasn't going to stop, so I forced my way out to save you.

When I first met you, and the first two years, we split our time with you 50/50, but in the last two years, Lizzy has been in control more, and I can't stop her.

The baby was supposed to be mine, but Lizzy broke our agreement and got pregnant after keeping me buried for the first seventeen days of December, right through the company Christmas party.

I sound crazy, me and her, she and I. We shared the same body, but each personality had her individual preferences and feelings. Lizzy felt the pregnancy and hated it because she didn't want children; she even threatened to kill the baby after birth. I longed to carry your child, but I felt nothing and couldn't see my body as being pregnant. Lizzy only did it because she hates me.

Even though Cat mentally wasn't mine, I grew to love her, and I gave her all my love every moment we spent together to make up for the indifference Lizzy showed her daughter.

Lizzy's personality is getting more erratic and stronger, and I'm slowly slipping away. If I don't do something soon, I won't have the strength to come out anymore, and I fear for your life, my love, and Cat's life. So I am ending it so the two people I love will be safe.

The last time I was in control was early January, and I bought a gun from a pawn shop. Lizzy must have been asleep inside me because she didn't steal it after I loaded it and hid it in your trunk.

When she sent you to jail, I began fighting to get out, and she helped without knowing what she'd done. Sunday evening, I was released and retrieved the pistol. After feeding and changing Cat, I rocked her and put her in her crib.

We did make a beautiful daughter with my body, didn't we? So love and cherish her as she is a physical part of me. I love you with all my heart, Marty.

May we meet again someday, without Lizzy,

Your loving wife, Liz

TIME TO GO

------

I stared at her handwriting, slid the letter to Danni, and asked Det. Ellis, "Liz killed herself?"

"A 22 caliber bullet into the right temple."

"Wow!" I slumped down in my chair, sobbing with my face in my hands. Danni patted my back as she read the letter. After a few moments, I regained control of my emotions and looked at George.

"George, does this make sense to you?"

"Unfortunately, it does. She probably started out feeling different at times, and the blackouts happened, and she had no memories of what she did when they occurred. Then it got worse when she became aware of Lizzy, but the blackouts stopped, and eventually, Liz was carrying on conversations with Lizzy in her head."

I felt like I was in an episode of the 'Twilight Zone.'

"It's rare for this to happen, but by the time she was in college, Liz was carrying on verbal conversations with her alter, Lizzy."

"I've heard their voices; in the bedroom, the side yard at my parents' house, and the bathroom. Two different voices were talking or arguing, but the voices sounded the same. Every time it happened, I had just woken up or been drinking heavily, so I thought I was dreaming."

I stood up and circled the room, trying to think.

"Come to think of it; I should have seen it long ago. I interacted with both personalities. Liz, the one I fell in love with, was very submissive; she let me choose restaurants and order dinner for both of us, never drove the car with me in it, and didn't like being on top having sex, although if I forced her, she would. She would wake when Cat cried at night, changing and feeding her, then rocking her back to sleep."

George interrupted me, "What about the alter, Lizzy? What was she like?"

"She drove my car like a maniac, and I was a terrified passenger. She was a risk-taker, liked to live on the edge, and push my buttons." I told them the story of Valentine's day and how angry I was with her for risking bodily harm to one or both of us.

"How long did these changes last?"

"One to Three weeks, and I should have seen it. I feel so stupid; I even talked to my sisters about the difference."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"That there were two of them, a submissive and a dominant personality. Liz, the submissive or sub alter ego, hid nothing from me. It was like having a harem girl taking care of my every whim. If I asked, she would wake me up daily with a blowjob, but she never liked taking more than half in her mouth. Sorry, I didn't mean to be...."

Danni kissed my cheek, "Marty, I'm not Momma, so you won't offend me. Tell it exactly how your life was with her, um, or them."

"Okay, sis, I'm sorry anyway."

I calmed down and closed my eyes before continuing, "Liz always sucked me off with love and tried to make it last. She liked, no, she loved it when I made love to her for an hour, and after recovering, I would get a warm washcloth and a towel to clean her up. She made my favorite foods to eat and dressed the way I thought a wife and mother should dress. My dad and sisters loved sweet and gentle Liz."

"We did; she was so sweet." I love my baby sister.

Lieutenant Collier came back into the room.

"Lizzy tried to run the house and our lives. Instead of a blow job, she could swallow my cock down and have me coming in minutes. It must have been her that caused every fight we had; I even gave her a name, evil Liz."

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and continued.

"Sorry if I'm getting too graphic. Everything with Lizzy was right now, not sometime in the future. She never got up with our baby at night, and instead of flipping every three weeks as Liz described, the Lizzy personality stayed for months this time, and Liz didn't return until last November. For three months, I loved Liz for three weeks and stayed away from Lizzy for one week."