Over The Edge

Feeling him quiver in her mouth, Jan had sprung to her feet and grasped his hand. Grinning, she had pulled him to the same table he had seen Tim and the blonde with. Only this time Jan had boosted herself onto it and was spreading her legs wantonly for him.

"Now, Ronald, now its time for you to do some serious Jan fucking."

He had. Three steps and he grabbed her. Her legs circled his body and he rammed his cock up inside her. Her arms followed her legs and she locked herself to him, crushing her full breasts to his chest. He didn't even kiss her this time, he didn't make love to her. He just fucked her.

"Damn yes Ronald, that's how I like it," she cried out. "Take me. Use me like a possession, just a cunt to fuck." He responded by speeding up his thrusts. "Hammer me, drive that cock in me. You love it, don't you," she gasped. "You love fucking a woman like a slut. Well, that's me baby."

Ronald was lost in his lust. He pinned Jan against the table's edge, pounding against her so hard he was sure he was bruising her thighs as well as where her ass slapped the table. Jan pounded him on the back with her heels and scratched his back. She dropped her head to his shoulder and bit him as he gave a wordless cry somewhere between a curse and a scream. His cock spurted inside her like a flood and she fell back onto the table, completely spent as the force of her own orgasm left her helpless.

Completely satiated, once he could finally move again, he had slipped up the stairs to see how Timothy was doing with Margaret. What he found was well beyond his wildest thoughts. It was also far beyond what he was prepared to deal with.

Margaret, his beautiful, loving Margaret was not only with Tim, but with two other men as well. One was slumped in the chair by the bed, his eyes half-glazed with a look of utter satisfaction and his cock soft between his legs. Tim was laying beside Margaret, who was pinned between him and the third man, who was a complete stranger to Ronald.

"Oh Yeah. Fuck me, damn you. Fuck me hard. I need your hard cocks. Take me in the ass, in my cunt. I need it." Margaret was all but incoherent. Streaks of cum ran down her legs. Her eyes were glazed.

Ronald clutched the doorframe. This wasn't what he had thought was going to happen. "Well, you fool", he told himself, "What in Hell did you expect? A nice clean scene? Something romantic? He wanted to rush in and stop what was happening, but he couldn't move. He had set this up, now he was paying the price for it.

He must have made some sound, for Margaret looked towards the doorway. For a moment her eyes seemed to clear from the fog and she turned white. Ronald swiftly stepped back out of sight. He stumbled down the stairs. It wasn't until later that he realized he had also seen two whiskey bottles in the room. Somehow in the daze of the next hour he had managed to get them both dressed and home. Margaret had still be incoherent as he cleaned her as best as he could and put her to bed.

The next two days had been incredibly strained. He fumbled and fumbled trying to find the words to bring up the subject of the party. He admitted to himself that he wanted Margaret to tell him what an awful time she had. But he couldn't broach the subject. He couldn't even make eye contact with her lest he somehow give away what he had arranged.

So he had ignored it. He had ignored everything, the silences, the signs of tears, the avoidance of his touch. He had gone off to work finally on Monday, still wrestling with what had happened.

He hadn't been able to do any work at all. He simply sat at his desk and stared at the wall. He ignored the phone until his secretary burst into the room.

"Ronald, for god's sake! The hospital's trying to reach you. Margaret's been taken there. Whatever it is, its serious."

He had burst through the doors of the emergency room. Gasping a frantic question to the nurse's station, he had been directed down a hallway to one of the rooms. He sprinted the short distance. When he arrived, he saw a woman standing in the doorway.

"Nurse, NURSE, please, I need to find my wife," he gasped frantically.

The blonde woman turned to face him. He saw the stethoscope around her neck and realized his mistake, even as she took his arm.

"Mister Andrews, I'm Doctor Gibson." She looked at him with an expression of sympathy that in itself told him what her next words would be. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid your wife is gone, despite our best efforts. We did everything that we could but the EMT's found her too late." She guided him to a chair, still holding his arm.

"What happened? I don't understand. All I was told was that she was here. Did she have an accident?" When the young female doctor hesitated, he begged her, "Please, what happened?"

"We won't know everything until after the autopsy, but she was found unconscious by your neighbor who came over when repeated phone calls weren't answered. She summoned the paramedics," Doctor Gibson swallowed, "Who found an empty bottle of prescription sleeping pills beside her. They rushed her here, where we pumped her stomach and administered stimulants. Her breathing and pulse had already stopped when the EMT's found her. I'm so very sorry."

Ronald head reeled. Had he not been seated already he might have fallen. "Suicide? That's absurd. She would never have done anything like that."

"That's what we need to discover, Mister Andrews." A different voice broke through his confusion. Looking up he found his gaze caught by a pair of intense brown eyes.

"Sir, I'm Sergeant Carol Wilson of the Sheriff's Department." Harold took in the trim figure of a dark haired woman. Her casual attire was offset by the gold badge slung around her neck and the heavy pistol holstered on her right side. "I know this is not a good time, but I need to ask some questions. The sooner I can get the answers the faster I can get started on resolving this situation."

"What do you need to know?" asked Ronald.

The cop looked at the doctor, who nodded firmly. "Mister Andrews, a toxicology screen was performed when your wife was brought in. Frankly, her symptoms indicated a drug overdose of some kind and the hospital staff was desperately hoping to discover what drug was in your wife's system so we could try to counter the effects."

Doctor Gibson added gently, "A large quantity of barbiturates was found in your wife's system. Additionally though, traces were found of other drugs. One was mood altering drug. Its a mild euphoric sometimes given to relax people who are tied in emotional knots. By itself its completely harmless."

The words "by itself" rang in Ronald's mind. He would have never even considered giving Margaret what he had if he had not carefully checked out its effects and any complications. A hideous doubt came over him at her words. He nodded jerkily.

"Even in combination with alcohol its effects are mild. They are enhanced but generally not dangerous. However, in this case there was a third item in the mixture and all together they combined to produce a dangerous side-effect. Were you aware your wife was taking an anti-depressant?"

Shocked, Ronald blurted "No. Oh God. She never said anything."

"This is not a strong anti-depressant. In fact, in a mild form, its available over the counter. As I said, usually its harmless. When combined with the other drug and alcohol, as I suspect we'll find, its most dangerous effect is to exacerbate the depression rather than relieve it. The combination produces an extreme high, followed by a crushing low." She touched his arm. "Mister Andrews, you can't blame yourself. You can't even blame her. I believe she was not in her right mind when she took the sleeping pills."

"No," interjected Sergeant Gibson. "But I suspect that whoever gave her the drugs can be blamed. Mister Andrews, I know this has been a terrible shock. But as soon as possible I need to find out where your wife has been and who she's been with over the last few days." She swallowed. "This is terribly personal but needs to be asked. Mister Andrews, were you aware that your wife apparently was sexually active outside your marriage?"

"Good God NO," Ronald had blurted out. "How could you think such a thing?"

"Because of this." The woman took a piece of paper from her clipboard. "This is a copy, you understand. The original is being sent to the State Crime Lab." She hesitated. "Mister Andrews, are you sure you want to see this?"

"Please," Ronald all but begged. The Sergeant handed him the paper from the clipboard.

"Dear Ronald," it started.

"Oh God, Ronald, what happened to me? I don't understand. I was having a good time at the party and then all of a sudden I found myself walking up the stairs with Tim, and some other guy. I don't know that I even knew who he was. Then, oh god, Ronald, I was on the bed, pinned between them. Their hands were all over me and they were undressing me and then I wanted them.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't even think of you. All I wanted was to be fucked. I begged them for it. I wanted all I could get from them. When they came in me and on me all I could think of was to suck them hard again.

"Sometime in all that a third man joined in. Once, just once, I imagined I saw your face. I pray that I didn't. I can't explain at all what came over me, but the shame of thinking that you saw your wife behaving like a whore is too much.

"Regardless of whether you saw me or not, somehow you know. I can tell it. You won't speak to me, you won't touch me. And how could I blame you? I sank to a level I never thought I could. And I know that if I did once, I could again. I can't do that. I can't be a slut.

"I'm so sorry to have hurt you. I can't face what I did. I can't face anything. I'm sorry."

The letter was signed simply "Margaret".

Sergeant Wilson plucked the letter from Ronald's nerveless fingers. "I'm sorry Mister Andrews."

Ronald buried his face in his hands, his thoughts a swirl where he could not distinguish one from another. When he lifted his face he saw tears swimming in the eyes of the doctor. She was trying to maintain her professionalism but Ronald could see she was losing her self-control.

Even in his state of shock, Ronald was surprised when the policewoman hugged and then kissed the other female. "You did all you could Stephanie. I know it and you know it too. Don't beat yourself up." Switching her attention to Ronald, she continued. "Mister Andrews, I will find out what happened. If foul play is involved I will bring those responsible to justice." A look blazed in her eyes that made Ronald shiver, even as she turned and strode down the hall.

Doctor Gibson took a deep breath and turned to face Ronald. "Mister Andrews, I'm sure its not any consolation at all right now, but my sister is a very good detective. She won't give up until she finds out the whole story behind this. She takes after our mother, who was a bulldog on a case, especially one like this."

"Sister? Your mother?"

"Yes, our mother and father are both senior members of the Sheriff's Department. Mom has spent most of her career as an investigator and a very good one. Carol has always wanted to be just like her."

Ronald nodded, "That's good to know." Dazed, he allowed the deeply sympathetic Doctor to contact a friend to come pick him up. She had quietly offered to contact the funeral home and make arrangements to have Margaret's body taken there.

The funeral was nothing but a blur. As he stood at the gravesite, Tim walked up to him. Jan stood by their car. He wanted to hate them, but he could only be honest with himself. They didn't cause this. He had.

"Ronald, we're so sorry." Tim swallowed. "Ronald, there's been a Sergeant from the Sheriff's Department asking questions. She's very persistent. We haven't out right lied to her, but she knows we're not telling her everything. Jan is a wreck. I know the cop will be back, maybe today, maybe tomorrow. We can't cover up what happened at the party. I'm so sorry; Sorry about this, sorry about everything."

Ronald nodded stiffly. After Tim and Jan left, he turned and walked back to the funeral home limo. He had a couple of things to do and from the sound of it he didn't have much time for them.

Ronald brought himself back to the present. This time he knew the sound of the doors slamming was coming from his driveway. A female voice he recognized from the hospital was shouting orders. What was her name again? The answer was supplied immediately when the sound of a fist pounding on the front door was accompanied by her voice "Mister Andrews, this is Sergeant Wilson of the Sheriff's Department. Open the door. I have an arrest warrant for you on charges of illegal drug use and aggravated spousal abuse."

There was a pause and then the front door creaked open. Ronald could hear voices as the bottom floor was searched and then he heard the sound of careful footsteps on the stairs. He caught a glimpse of brown hair as Wilson quick checked the bedroom. Then she was standing in the doorway, her service weapon in both hands pointed at him. Two uniformed officers flanked her.

"Your sister was right, Sergeant Wilson, you're a very good detective. It didn't take you any time at all to figure out I was the one who drugged Margaret" He looked up at her. "Believe me when I tell you I never intended things to turn out that way. I completely misunderstood her. I let my own selfish passions override my love for her. Now she's gone, and the fault is mine." He searched the officer's eyes, finding compassion in them. In a way he wished he didn't see it. It was going to make things more difficult. He steeled himself for what he wanted to happen next.

"I understand, Mister Andrews." She paused. "Ronald. Please. Put down the gun."

Ronald looked down at the automatic in his hand. He had almost forgotten it. Almost. He shook his head sadly. "I can't do that Sergeant Wilson."

"Please Ronald. I know what you're trying to do. Please don't do this to yourself. This isn't the answer. I know you're hurting. You were terribly wrong but this isn't going to bring her back."

"Do you believe in God, Sergeant Wilson?" He saw her nod and continued. "I never did before, but now, at the end, I can't believe that Margaret is gone forever, like a puff of smoke. Perhaps he does exist. Perhaps in the 'infinite mercy' that he supposedly has, he'll allow me to join her wherever her spirit has gone." He took a deep breath and swung the gun up and towards the three cops.

"Ronald, don't! DON'T!" The last word seemed to come as a endless cry as his finger tightened on the trigger. He saw the muzzle of Wilson's pistol flame and felt the bullets slam into his chest. And then he felt nothing at all and the darkness swept over him.

Carol Wilson lowered her pistol. The uniform to her right did the same. The third officer kept his weapon trained on the motionless body crumpled on the floor by the bed. He crabbed forward, carefully kicking the gun away from the hand it had fallen from. He knelt and checked for a pulse. Shaking his head, he stood and holstered his weapon.

"Are you okay Carol?" he asked quietly.

"I wanted to believe he wouldn't fire. I knew he was goading us. He WANTED this to happen." She holstered her own weapon. Mechanically she directed the uniformed officer beside her to secure the scene. Her radio call to the dispatcher, requesting a supervisor and Internal Affairs at the scene of an "Officer Involved Shooting" was calm and unemotional.

"Carol, you had no choice. We had no choice. Yes, perhaps he wouldn't have shot, but you can't know that. As determined as he was to have this ending," the young male cop nodded towards Ronald's body, "If you hadn't have fired he might have. To make us shoot, he could have well opened up on you, on me, on Stan."

"Suicide by cop." Carol stated quietly. "I knew that's what he wanted. But damn it, now I have to live with it."

The other cop enfolded her in his arms. "Yeah you do, sis. But you don't have to carry this alone. Remember that. Mom and Dad both went through this, as have I. You reacted from your training. You'll second-guess yourself your whole life, but you were right. I'm going to call Roger and get him over here." Raising a hand to stifle her protests, he continued" You need your husband here now Carol. He can drop the kids off at Mom and Dad's."

"Alright. Leave everything untouched. We'll wait for IAD downstairs. Stan, keep everyone out till they get here." Sergeant Carol Wilson looked one more time at the body on the floor. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer for the man who couldn't be content with what he had and lost it all.

(The End)