Requital

He had the license plate information and descriptions of all three of the vehicles the Porters owned, the Porter's residence address as well as their business addresses. Good résumés of both Mr. and Mrs. Porter's professional and private lives were included along with a ton of other information he probably could never use.

Much of the information was gleaned from records existing in the public domain. Some of it probably wasn't technically supposed to be released to individuals not working in the corporations where the Porters and Barbara worked--or the clubs and organizations to which they belonged--but it wasn't illegal to send emails or possess the addresses.

The "report" was a three-inch binder and it took another two days to absorb it all. He took those days off and went to the library to read. The construction of the new building was sufficiently advanced and the staff well enough organized that he could afford the time away. He poured over the photographs, descriptions, and all the other data until he felt he had a good handle on it all.

As he worked, the dull anger always with him these days occasionally flared into full-scale rage. He always throttled back his temper before it escaped completely.

He wanted to confront Barbara with all the information he had. More importantly, he wanted to catch her by surprise. He relished the image he held in his mind. He couldn't wait to see the shock he on her face when he showed her the fool she was cuckolding wasn't quite as dumb as she thought.

*******

Steve was on his way to Barbara's office. It was almost lunchtime and he thought he would invite her to a quick lunch somewhere. It was time to let her know her deceit had been discovered. Pulling into the parking lot where Barbara worked, he caught a glimpse of a late model Ford Thunderbird leaving through the exit on the opposite side.

Steve knew Porter drove a brand new Thunderbird. It was the same silver color as the one Steve had seen leaving the lot. It was too much of a coincidence. He raced through the aisles between the parked cars to the other exit and turned down the wide boulevard down which he'd seen the Thunderbird drive.

He caught up moments later. It wasn't hard, though his heart had been in his mouth while running two red lights and dodging from lane to lane around slower cars as he sped through the traffic. When he saw the T-bird in the fast lane half a block ahead, he slowed to pace them for a while. He had to be sure.

At the next light, Steve took the digital camcorder from his gym bag and used the optical magnification to check the car's occupants through the viewfinder. It was Barbara. There was no mistake. He let the camera run until the light turned green. Just before the Thunderbird took off, she kissed the man's cheek and patted it affectionately.

He crept closer through the moving traffic, finally settling his pickup in a line of traffic three or four cars behind the adulterous couple and in the next lane over. Most people don't bother to check their rear view mirrors for someone tailing them. Mr. Raphael Porter was among that group. He and Mrs. Barbara Curtis didn't even know they should be checking.

The Thunderbird pulled into the city park down by the river and parked near the water where a stand of trees blocked the view from the road. Steve eased his pickup behind a storage building of some kind. The building was in a low spot. Still, he could barely see over the top of it without straining his body upward in his seat. He held the camcorder up and began recording, checking from time to time to make sure the focus was still good and that he had the two people centered in the view screen.

He watched his wife and Mr. Asshole Porter talk for a time. There were three or four kisses, brief pecks early on. Then they got more heated and lasted longer. He saw Barbara slump down. A moment later, she tossed something flimsy and white up on the dash. Abruptly, the fury Steve had been holding in check exploded.

He started the engine and put the transmission in its lowest gear. He rolled around the building, down a gentle slope, and was on top of the Thunderbird in seconds. He hadn't known what he was going to do when the anger flickered back to life but he had to do something. He didn't devise a plan, much less consider any probable consequences, but when he pulled up behind the car, he knew what he was going to do.

He braked hard but didn't kill the big Ram Charger's momentum completely. His reinforced front bumper was a mismatch for the lower one on the rear of the T-bird. The pickup's bumper quickly rode over the other one. The thin metal of the Thunderbird's luggage compartment crumpled as Steve eased forward.

He slapped the transmission into four-wheel drive, gunned the engine, and began pushing the other car down the gentle slope into the slow moving stream. The several hundred horses under the hood were plenty to push the smaller silver coupe into the water with its two terrified and desperate occupants.

Steve could hear their high-pitched screams over the roar of the engine. For the first time in a week, there was a grin on his lips, albeit a malicious one. He didn't stop until the water was washing well up the side of the Thunderbird. Giving the car one last thump, Steve eased off the gas, put the truck in reverse, and casually backed out of the river.

When all four wheels were on dry land again, he stopped and shifted out of four-wheel drive. He put the transmission in park and turned off the engine. He wedged the camcorder into place on the dash with a rag from the floorboard so it was centered on the sunken Thunderbird. It was only then that he stepped out of the pickup to survey what he had done.

Walking back to the water's edge, he watched the two still moving frantically around inside the small passenger compartment. After a few seconds, Barbara and Porter scrambled in unison out the lowered windows. They both dropped into the water and came up blowing water from their noses and wiping mud out of their eyes. Steve could hear Mr. Raphael Porter yelling something but Steve had no interest in listening. He didn't bother trying.

He saw Porter was having difficulty getting his pants up. Every time he tried, water filled their interior and the man couldn't pull them into place. Steve didn't care what difficulties the other man was having.

Steve's attention was focused on his wife. He watched as she peered up at him. When she finally recognized him, she stumbled backward and fell into a hole in the riverbed. When she came up from her second dunking, she was almost hysterical.

"RAFE!" she screamed. "OH, GOD, IT'S MY HUSBAND."

Steve took that to be a warning intended for her fuck-buddy since he figured the deity she named already knew who Steve was. Raphael Porter had finally gotten his pants up and zipped. He was coming toward Steve, cursing with each step.

"RAFE! DON'T! He's got a gun," Barbara screamed.

When he heard Barbara's cry, "Rafe" stopped and even backed away a few steps.

Steve's hand unconsciously stroked the butt of his pistol. It was holstered at his waist on his right side, as it always was. It was a part of his wardrobe, a tool. He hadn't consciously thought about being armed in years. He snorted in disgust. If he'd been intending to use it on the two adulterers, he already would have.

Steve watched the pair of them. Disheveled and covered with slime from the river, beginning to feel the shock sudden discovery generates in two cheaters, they were a sorry sight. Suddenly, Steve's anger morphed into disgust. These two were involved in something that was slimy and disgusting. That they were covered with river muck was only appropriate.

It was quiet now. The faint gurgling of the river's slow flowing water was interrupted only by popping noises from the pickup's cooling engine.

"Barbara?" Steve said. His first words made her flinch though his voice wasn't especially loud. His face was blank rather than threatening.

"Barbara!" he called again.

"What?" she asked, not knowing what else to do or say.

"Don't come home," Steve said succinctly. "Go to your Mom and Dad's or something, but don't come anywhere near me, understand?"

Barbara nodded. Frightened and soaked with cold river water, she was only beginning to understand the carefully crafted fantasy of her affair had been ripped apart so easily, and in just a few seconds. The harsh light of reality was shining hard on her.

Steve looked at her a moment longer, a look of revulsion spreading over his features. He turned to look at her companion.

"Mr. Asshole Porter," he said just loud enough for the other man to hear. Steve wanted the man to know Steve knew who he was.

"You can call the cops if you want," Steve told him. "They'll haul me off to jail. But you won't like what happens when I get out, shit head…I promise you that."

Raphael Porter listened to the husband of the woman he'd brought to the park and knew physical fear for the first time since that fistfight in high school. He didn't say a word. Though Steve's hand was no longer near his holstered weapon, Rafe couldn't tear his eyes from it.

Steve spat into the river, turned away, and walked back to his pickup. Stepping up into the cab, he looked at the water-soaked cheaters a final time and his lips curled in contempt. Closing the door, he started the truck and backed away from the scene.

Barbara came to her senses and started yelling after him, screaming at him to come back. Steve saw her. He heard the cries but he just shook his head and kept moving. He didn't know how his wife would get to her parents and he didn't care. His life with her was over. She was someone else's responsibility now.

Chapter 2 - Third Week Of June

For the rest of the week, Steve had half-expected a police cruiser to pull him over every time he climbed into the pickup and went somewhere. By the second day, when there'd been no knocks on the door in the middle of the night and no uniformed cops had come to the construction site to pick him up, he began to relax. His bitter promise to the man who'd been with Barbara not withstanding, he knew he had no legitimate defense to any charge the district attorney might bring against him.

While he waited to be arrested, he occupied himself with a visit to an attorney his brother recommended. Jon said the woman was a bull terrier in the courtroom. She'd just gotten one of Jon's buddy's full custody of his three children where there was only ahintof adultery on the part of his wife. Steve didn't need anything beyond a simple, no-fault divorce but he figured he'd go ahead and get someone who would be super aggressive in his behalf. It fit his mood to a "T."

The locks were all changed by noon on Friday. Most of Barbara's clothes were packed into a few dozen wardrobe boxes and smaller ones containing all her personal possessions. He'd not spent a lot of time at it. He'd swept her clothing off the shelves, out of her drawers, and off the closet rods and dumped everything into the nearest box.

He'd taped them all up and stacked them in the garage. They'd sit there until his soon-to-be ex-wife came and got them. He kept finding things around the house he'd forgotten to put in the boxes. He finally decided to keep one box assembled and open so he could throw new items inside whenever he passed by.

When Saturday came and he was still a free man, he decided the jerk who'd been doing Barbara hadn't gone to the police. Barbara had called several times on each of the last three days but Steve hadn't answered. If the caller ID showed her cell phone number or a call originating at his in-laws, he simply didn't pick up. He figured it had to be infuriating to Barbara. He didn't care.

When the phone rang this time, the display showed it was his father-in-law's cell phone. Impulsively, Steve decided it was time to break the silence.

"Hello, Lloyd," he said quietly into the mouthpiece. There was a short silence on the other end.

"Uh…Steve!" Barbara's father hadn't really expected Steve to answer the phone.

"Yeah, what can I do for you?" Steve replied.

"Uh…Steve…look, I'm just as sorry as I can be about…the problem between you and Barbara. I…uh…we were hoping you might be able to come over and talk about it, son. You know we think the world of you and we don't want a misunderstanding to turn into a something worse."

Steve didn't say anything for a long moment. He considered putting the cordless phone down on the end table and just walking away. If he put it face down, it would terminate the call. He was tempted.

"Steve?" Steve was quiet a count longer.

"Yeah…well, Lloyd, I'll be frank with you. Considering some of the things I overheard Diane saying about me while Barb and I were dating…and after we were married…I'm not exactly sure where this "thinking the world of me" comes from, but I'll let it pass for now.

"Barb and I aren't having a "misunderstanding," Lloyd. I caught her cheating on me with another man and I'm not about to let it slide." He didn't say anything more, waiting on his father-in-law to carry the conversation if he wanted to.

"Okay…so…Steve…is there anyway you could come talk to us. I promise nobody's going to be judgmental. We only want to get this resolved, all right?" There was a note of pleading in Lloyd's voice. Steve guessed the older man was under a good deal of strain.

"No," Steve said firmly. He paused. "But if you want to come over here, I'll be here for the next hour or so," he told his father-in-law.

"I…"

Steve heard some murmurs in the background.

"Okay, Steve…we'll do that," Lloyd said at length. "We'll be right over."

"Sure," Steve replied. "Hey…bring the van, okay? Barbara has a bunch of stuff over here she needs to pick up."

"I…okay…we'll bring the van," Lloyd said quickly. He didn't want to start another discussion. "We'll be there in a few minutes.

********

He kept his face carefully bland as his in-laws and wife came in. Barbara peered all around, noting every change Steve had made during the week. Her lips tightened at each missing picture or knickknack. Steve shook his father-in-law's hand and nodded to Diane. He wasn't especially close to his mother-in-law. She knew why.

There was no welcome at all in his eyes for Barbara. The only person he reallywasglad to see was a surprise. He hadn't expected Barbara's Grandmother, her "Nony," as she called her, to be there.

"Hello, Lydia," he said warmly. "I didn't know you were coming." He gave the older woman a genuine smile of welcome.

Steve had always gotten along with Lydia. When her daughter, Diane, and Diane's husband had turned up their noses at Barbara's choice of dates and later, her mate, Lydia had always been solidly in Steve's corner. She offered her cheek for a quick kiss and gave him one in return.

Steve looked outside, wondering if there was one more of Barbara's family still outside.

"Kimberly isn't going to join us?" he asked. Lloyd shook his head.

"She's still off at her college prep course up in Austin," he said, "but I wouldn't have brought her anyway…I don't think she needs to be involved in this, do you?" Steve shrugged.

"I'm not sureyouneed to be involved in this, Lloyd," he said without malice.

He agreed with his father-in-law though. Kimberly had just graduated from high school in June. Her grades weren't that good, so she was attending a short seminar-style course to better prepare her for college. Kim was a dark-haired beauty, fun to be with and outgoing to a fault. She'd been a cheerleader for all her three years in high school and a member of all the favorite social groups. She'd only turned eighteen last January, though, and tended to be a little flighty. Steve wouldn't have included her in this discussion either.

Barbara and her parents sat on the couch. Lydia made herself at home on the loveseat and crossed her legs comfortably. She saw Steve watching her and grinned mischievously at him. Steve had told her once she had the best legs of any sixty-seven-year-old woman he ever saw and Lydia had never forgotten it. She recrossed her legs and relaxed on the overstuffed cushions.

Steve took a seat in the Lazy Boy and swiveled it around so he faced the trio on the couch. He waited.

He watched Barbara. She shifted slightly from side to side, mildly self-conscious under his gaze. Steve looked at her, wondering who this woman was. He'd married her after dating off and on for two years. Those two years had been broken a quarter of the way through for almost six months after an argument about exclusivity. They'd been married for four years now, so he'd known this woman for six years. No, that wasn't quite right. He didnotknow her. He didn't have a clue why she would betray the marriage. In fact, he decided, he didn't know her at all.

He examined her, trying to see her as a stranger he'd just met. She was attractive. She always had been but it seemed these last couple of years she'd grown into what had always been a tall, willowy body. Her legs were long…the thighs slender and firm. Her calves were slim without being skinny.

She had brunette hair over green eyes. Sometimes, in the right lighting, Steve saw a red glint here and there amidst the lighter colored strands. She was Irish on her father's side. It was only natural to expect a red-haired gene to express itself occasionally in the family tree. It looked good on her.

There was just a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Her features were eye-catching, but not striking. Barbara's beauty didn't depend upon any one thing about her. It was the total package…her long stride, beautiful smile, flashing eyes…it was everything about her that he loved. He corrected himself. Hehadloved her. She'd been killing that love for a long time now. He wasn't sure how much was left.

He deliberately turned away from Barbara and looked at his father-in-law. Steve raised his eyebrows in invitation. It was best to get this little meeting underway…best to get it done with so he could put it behind him like an unwelcome chore.

"I…Steve," Lloyd said awkwardly, "Barbara has told us about you seeing her and Mr. Porter at the park and we think you might have misinterpreted what she was doing there with him."

Steve glanced at his wife. Barbara was sitting erect instead of reclining against the back of the couch.

"Okay," Steve said. "Whatwereyou doing there with Mr. Raphael Porter?" he asked his wife. "Or more precisely…what did you tell your parents you were doing?"

"I told them exactly whatwashappening," Barbara returned sharply. She appeared to be barely holding on to her temper.

Steve smiled quietly. The smile didn't show in his eyes. He motioned his wife to continue.

Barbara took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry you got the wrong idea, honey," she said. "It's all very simple and you shouldn't have overreacted like you did."

Steve held up a hand to stop her from continuing. Barbara looked at him in confusion.

"Don't call me honey, darling, love…or anything like that, okay?" Steve said. "You've forfeited the right to do that and I won't tolerate it."

Barbara's lips thinned. Her eyes were alight with anger. Making a visible effort to control herself, she nodded.

"Whatever you say…Steve," she said in a conciliatory tone. "Anything to get along." She sat back and folded her hands in her lap.

"Anyway, what you saw was perfectly innocent. You see, Rafe has been having problems in his marriage and I've been trying to help him through a bad time. We go somewhere and talk and it seems to help him hear things from a woman's point of view. That's all it was…hon…Steve. Rafe is just a good friend. That's all. I can understand how you could get upset when you saw us out by the river, but…that's all there is to it."