The Black Widow Case Pt. 03

By Likegoodwinecopyrighted February 2012

Here's the last installment of my story. There is almost no sex to speak of in this one. Enjoy! Thanks to Scalia for his patient editing.

Your votes and constructive comments are appreciated, as they will help me grow.

Chapter 6

As summer was in full swing and the golf season was all out, I had more occasions to share precious Saturday mornings with Martha. Hector is an avid golfer and dutifully had an 8:30 a.m. tee time that day.

Slowly, I learned more about Martha. There was no dark event in her past. I was able to read her true to form and she wasn't lying. The only questions that she avoided were those about her ex-lovers. But I was still digging. Even if I now doubted my first assessment that she was responsible for her lovers' death, I kept asking questions, smoothly.

One morning, after a nice lovemaking session, she had her head on my chest and her arms were holding me. Being a married couple with no schedule, it would have been the perfect moment to simply fall asleep in each other's arms after some nice lovemaking.

"Martha?"

"Hum!"

"Was Thomas Nelson a lover of yours?"

I sensed her tensed.

"Why do you ask that?"

"At the funeral, I was watching you. You were the only person I recognized there. And I believe Tom wasn't only a client of your firm. You had tears that you kept hidden from your boss."

She didn't answer at first. After a while: "Yes, he was a lover!"

And she started to cry. I hold her firmly.

"You loved him too?" I asked.

"No, not really. He was a nice man, confused about many things, but I didn't really love him, even if he wished differently," she said, sobbing.

"Why did you took it so hard then?"

She didn't answer at first, crying her heart.

"We were supposed to meet at a restaurant after work then go to his apartment. We had the whole weekend since Hector was going fishing with his buddies. He never showed up, and the next Monday I learned that he was dead."

"Was it the first time you had to deal with the death of somebody close to you?"

That was a make or break question. I don't know if she felt how tensed I was.

She must have because she let go of me. She backed off slightly from me and looked straight at me.

"Allan, why are you asking all these questions?"

"No reason," I lied. "You looked like you were shaken to the core at the funeral, more than the death of a friend or lover could warrant. You looked scared out there."

"You saw that?"

"As I was telling you, I fell in love with you at first sight. I was looking only at you. I was wondering why you were so distressed. And I am still wondering why. It wasn't the first time you lost somebody you loved, isn't it?"

She stayed silent for at least 10 minutes. I didn't want to push further. She wasn't looking at me anymore. Her gaze was lost, vacant. I waited. I was hoping that something would come out of that.

What happened next came a bit as a surprise. I am not lying when I was telling her that I was in love with her. I was starting to second-guess my initial hypothesis. Up until this defining moment, I was starting to believe that something else was afoot. But she finally revealed herself.

She jumped out of bed and started to gather her clothing.

"Hey what are you doing? We still have plenty of time."

She stood up from picking her nylons on the floor and looked at me, her face a blank mask to me: "I am going home where I belong. I think you are going too far with this. I don't love you, never did and never will," she said. Her tone was getting louder. "Who are you to ask me questions when you are cheating on your wife? You think that you are better than I am? You are simply a pig, like all the other pigs that only want to get in my pants. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over. Don't phone me and don't try to contact me. If you do, you will regret it."

She went in the bathroom and within minutes, she came out dressed and stormed out of the motel room.

Chapter 7

True to her word, she refused all my calls and didn't reply to my messages. She even avoided the coffee shop where we first met.

I stalked her and found out that she soon had a replacement in her bed, Bill Braden, her supervisor. It was obvious that the guy was totally smitten with her.

I wasn't sure what my next move would be. I had now a better idea that she saw her lovers as pigs, as less than human. Cocks to deliver orgasms! But I still didn't have enough to go to the police and try to cash in on my hard work. Ok, I enjoyed the ride, but it was still work.

Who am I kidding? Despite knowing how deadly she could be, given a chance I would run back to her. Being rebuffed by her was like being torn apart. There was no future with her, except death, but the delicious moments spent together were almost worth it.

I tried harder.

It took me two months to finally have her to break the silence.

Using a fake email address I sent this message: "I am a researcher. That's what I do, and it became a professional hazard in my life. If I have a question that bothers me, I dig and dig and dig till I find an answer. I was trying to cure myself of that disease but I think I am now cured. I simply needed a shot of common sense and a slap in the face from the woman I loved. I am really sorry about that and I have only one wish: next time we see each other in public, don't run away. The moments spent together were too beautiful to sully them with hate and spite. I will not contact you again, but I sincerely wish that I could still warrant a little smile if we meet. Truly yours forever, Allan."

It took her a whole week to answer and it was a simple word: "OK!"

The next morning, she came in the coffee shop, right behind me. When I turned, I saw her. She looked at me, smiled then turned her attention away. I was surprised to see Braden just behind her. He was glaring at me. I saw a glimpse of pure hatred in his face but just for a fraction of a second. He gave Martha all his attention.

Martha and I danced around each other like this for the next two weeks. Then one day, she made her move. When I was putting cream in my cup of coffee, she came and reached for another creamer, her breasts rubbing on my arm in the process. She smiled at me coyly.

"Oops!" she said.

I returned the favor the next day to test the water.

I was right behind her in the line-up when I dropped my newspaper. On my way back up, the newspaper accidentally got caught in her skirt and I lifted it almost all the way to her crotch.

"Oops!" I said.

Later that day, I received an email.

"Hubby is away with friends for the long weekend. Sunday, same time, same place. M."

"I'll be there!" was my reply.

Friday, I went out with some friends. I drank a bit too much and decided to walk back to my apartment and fetch my car the next morning.

I was almost home, lost in my thought, thinking about Martha and very little about the case. I heard a car revving at full speed. I looked up and saw a dark blue pick-up truck headed toward me. I barely had time to jump back toward the sidewalk and I felt the gust of air when the truck missed me by a mere few inches. The truck never stopped. It speeded away and disappeared around the next corner.

Without my car, there's nothing I could do. I ran to my apartment, turned my computer on and launched my GPS tracking software. I wanted to know where Martha was, or at least where she last left her car.

Damn! There was no signal coming from the GPS tracker located in her trunk. I realized that I forgot to replace the batteries as scheduled last week. The last signal received was the previous day. With no car at hand, a bit drunk, I decided to wait the next day to replace them.

'Devious bitch!' I thought. She had me believe that everything would finally be all right between us, and bang, she tries to kill me! I realized that I had really made an enemy when I tried to probe into her past. There was still something there that scared the shit out of her.

After hours of thinking about it, I finally gave up trying to figure out what made her tick. She was one sick puppy: a deadly puppy!

In my head, I made a checklist of things to follow-up after that near miss by Martha. First, replace the batteries. Second, try to ferret out where she was able to get her hands on a pick-up truck. Third, and that would be hard without a functioning GPS tracker, find her whereabouts last evening.

Hubby being away for the weekend, I had assumed that she would be fucking her way from one lover to the next. I now knew she had other plans. I wondered what would be her reaction Sunday when I showed up at the motel. I will have to be on my guard.

Or should I change my plans? All I needed was evidence of her murderous behavior. I could probably just follow her hopping from one bed to the other, catch her red-handed, report it to the police and cash in the rewards. The only problem with that is that I would have to be a passive witness of a murder, or, if lucky, of an attempted murder. Despite all my flaws, it didn't sit well with me. No, I would stick to my original plan.

What a mess! There I was, in my bed, rationalizing the need to continue fucking Martha when I couldn't stay away from her even if my life depended on it.

Saturday, I woke up late, went back to the bar to retrieve my car and headed toward Martha's home. Her car wasn't there. Shit! I had a headache - thanks to the booze and lack of sleep – and I wasn't in the mood to drive around town from one love nest to the other. I decided to simply catch a sorely needed nap.

I don't know why I didn't do it before but, for the first time, I decided to pack a gun. My little .38 would help me feel better.

Suppertime came and went with still no sign of Martha. I knew that when I meet her tomorrow, she would be well fucked. I hope she will not come to meet me and offer me sloppy-seconds. There's a limit to what a guy will do for $360,000!

Still burping my last Big Mac, I finally saw her car pull into her driveway. It was almost 9:00 p.m. Holding an overnight bag, she went inside. It was still bright enough that I couldn't risk checking my GPS tracker. I waited till darkness settled and traffic got light on the street.

Making sure I was unobserved, I went to her car. I now had duplicates of her keys and I opened the trunk. This SUV model has two small compartments on the side for storing small items and tools. I reached for the right side compartment, opened it and after a few seconds I dug up the GPS tracker. I slid off the battery cover, extracted the used batteries and put fresh ones in it. Despite doing everything in complete darkness, it took me less than two minutes to complete the task and be back in my car.

There, I settled again for the stakeout. It is hard to simply sit and observe. You are always doing small little things, just to avoid going crazy. At one moment, I had the two used batteries in my hand and was rolling them together between my fingers and then it hit me. These are not my batteries! I bought a shit load of lithium batteries just a few months ago, and these were not lithium. What the fuck? I was sure that I put fresh batteries in the GPS tracker.

I booted up my laptop and launched my GPS tracker software. Sure enough, I still didn't have a signal from my tracker.

I went back to the car and searched the compartment. There was only one GPS tracker. I risked turning on a small pen flashlight and saw that it was the same kind of tracker as the one I use. I then searched the left side compartment. Surprise! There was another GPS tracker. I changed the batteries in that one and on a whim I decided to switch the dead batteries into the other tracker.

Back in my car, I made sure that my GPS tracker was back online. It was.

Shit! Who else was stalking Martha beside me? I doubted it was the police. Thank God: my rewards were still safe. It left only one suspect: Hector. I don't know for how long Martha has been cheating on him, but he was bound to finally wake up to the stark reality of his marriage. I wonder if he was doing it by himself or if he had hired one of my fellow private dicks. What could that poor sap do against the army of dicks fucking his wife? I knew I was really tired when I started to laugh non-stop with that lame pun.

With a lot to think about, I decided to head home.

Chapter 8

At 7:00 a.m., I was back on duty, watching Martha's car. I had to know who was also keeping track of her. I am pretty sure that the loss of signal from the GPS tracker would force that person to do exactly as I had done.

Nothing! Shortly before 10:00 a.m., I saw her come out of the house and get in her car. For a second I was wondering where she was going until I remembered that she was on her way to meet me. I could have surmised many things about that. But the only thought that crossed my mind was: no sloppy seconds!

I followed her at a great distance and arrived just a few minutes after her at the motel. I knocked on the door and she opened it right away.

I hadn't spoken to her in over two months. I had rehearsed a little speech to apologize for my past behavior and to renew my devotion to her. Well, we didn't speak to each other for the next 10 minutes.

As soon as I was in, she launched threw herself at me and we kissed like there was no tomorrow. We didn't tear our clothes off. We didn't fuck each other brain's out as soon as the door closed. We simply grasped each other, violently, falling together on the bed, and kissing two months worth of unfulfilled wants.

After 10 minutes, I looked at her and said: "I missed you so bad."

Her eyes were shinny from all the unshed tears. "I missed you too."

And we resume our kissing, our hands finally beginning to rediscover each other's body. Then we tore our clothes off and at the fist chance I was letting my lips and tongue renew their acquaintance with her nicely trimmed pussy. I think she had an orgasm within seconds of my tongue licking her clit.

Forcibly, she pulled up my head and she had me climb on top of her.

"I need you in me. I want you in me with your lips on mines, your eyes in my eyes. Fuck me!" she demanded, her voice a coarse sound echoing the depth of her desire.

In one slow steady thrust I had my cock deep inside her, and we renewed our kissing, each other losing our souls in that moment. Her dark blue eyes never left mine for one second. We made love and we did it many times because I had two months of abstinence to shed.

And again, our lust having been fulfilled, we soon found ourselves in each other's arms. This is the most magical moment in all my encounters with Martha. When we had finished satisfying our basic sexual needs for each other, we always shared as much time simply holding each other. An encounter made even more enjoyable by the simple caresses without sexual tensions.

"Why did you take so long to reach for me? I was dying inside each day we were apart. Now I feel complete!" I finally said, breaking the silence.

I wanted to say something like that just to be in synch with the moment and foster some warm feelings that would lead again to a reconnection with my prime suspect. The funny thing is that it echoed exactly what I felt. These marvelous moments when we lay in each other arms after an intense lovemaking session was something sorely missing in my life. In my attempts to deceive her, I was more truthful than I have ever been before with a woman.

I was really dying inside a little bit at a time when I was away from her.

Instead of answering, she simply cried, her tears running down her cheeks and on my chest. I let her be. I simply kissed her head and hold her close to me.

"I'm so fucked up!" she said.

"No don't say that! Say instead: 'I am so well fucked!' It will do wonder for my self-esteem." I quipped.

She let out a welcome giggle. She rolled on top of me and looked at me, her eyes still very moist from her earlier tears, staring at me.

"I missed that! I was mad at you for a while, but I have to admit that you grew on me. I also missed you a lot," she said.

My hands went down her back, cupped her soft ass checks for a second and came back up. I grabbed her head and pulled her for a long sensuous kiss.

"I love you!" I said, quietly, hesitant.

She looked at me for a few seconds, an eternity spent lost in the depth of her eyes.

"I love you too," she finally said softly.

We resumed our soft kissing and fell asleep in each other's arms. Soon after waking up, we dressed and left, promising to get together as soon as possible.

I was lost in though all the way back to my apartment. My mind was in turmoil. I can't be falling in love with my prime suspect. There must be a rule somewhere against that. She was everything I always despised. She was a cheater. She was a slut... She... She was beautiful.

How could a very straightforward investigation turn into such an emotional mess? How could I ever convince myself to give her up to the police? I was losing my will to push further my investigation. I only wanted to be with her even with danger looming over me.

I guess my mind was still a bit aware of my surrounding. On my way home, I noticed a familiar pick-up truck following me. He really looked like the one that almost ran me over the previous evening. I sped up a bit, and the truck followed suite. Damn! It was way heavier and more powerful than my van.

At one moment, I cut in front of another vehicle and turned right. The pick-up truck didn't turn either because it wasn't following me or because it couldn't take the sharp turn in the traffic.

Soon I was back heading toward home.

When I turned on my street, I noticed again the same pick-up truck. I slowed down and intended to have a good look at the driver. All I could see was a silhouette turning away from the street. I couldn't identify who it was.

"Fuck, Martha!" I thought. "What are you doing?"

I went to my parking spot. Making sure my revolver was within easy reach; I got out of the car and walked towards my apartment. I let myself in. I couldn't see the pick-up from my place.

What was she planning?

Cautiously, I inspected my apartment. Nothing seemed amiss. From time to time I would look out inconspicuously, but I never saw a movement toward my apartment. Day turned to dusk, then to night.

Around 10:00 p.m., I turned all my lights off.

11:00 p.m. came, and nothing!

Midnight came, and still nothing!

Finally, a bit before 1 o'clock, I heard a noise at the back door. I silently made my way toward the kitchen and the back door. I had my .38 cocked and ready to fire.

I heard a clicking noise coming from the lock. There was no mistaking it. How the Hell did she learn to pick a lock? Sure enough, the door was soon open. My aim real steady, I turned on the kitchen light. I was in for a couple of surprises.

Chapter 9

The first surprise was a relief. It wasn't Martha. It was Hector.

The second surprise was not good. Hector was handling a .45 automatic. My .38 looked pitiful at that very moment except that I was aiming straight at him while his .45 was still in its holster.

All along, I felt bad for the guy. I felt jealous of him, knowing Martha kept coming back to him every night, but also a bit guilty for screwing his wife. Just a bit! If not me, it would be somebody else. I had to say something for his sake.

"Hector, don't do nothing foolish!" I said.

He didn't listen. I saw sadness in his eyes, a sadness rooted in his understanding of the situation. I had my aim straight. I could probably let a couple of rounds by the time he made any threatening moves. I believe his sadness arose also from the realization that the game was up.

We stayed like that for a few seconds. He was looking straight at me, an accusatory look that would haunt me the rest of my life. He broke into my house, but I was the thief. I was the one that was stealing his wife from him. I felt guiltier than he must feel. I was the intruder. I was a welcome intruder from Martha's point of view, but an intruder nevertheless. I felt bad for the guy despite my discovery that he was the serial killer I was hunting for.