The Other Woman

THE OTHER WOMAN

Author's note: This was meant to be a fun BTB. Hope you agree. My thanks to cvmawirenut for his editing.

She came over to the nice-looking stranger at the bar who was nursing a beer. "Looking to get lucky tonight, handsome?"

"I've been looking to get lucky for years without success. Tonight is no different. What about you? Why are you here?"

"Celebrating a divorce. Honestly, I'm looking for some rebound sex before I lose my nerve. I don't want anything serious until I'm ready to look for Mr. Right #2. By the way, I'm Lena."

"Sandy, like Sandy Koufax. I take it my wedding ring doesn't deter you?"

"You may have on a wedding ring Sandy, but you don't 'look' married if you know what I mean."

"If you mean I look like I'm trying to survive a shitty marriage with some dignity attached, you're right."

"Why don't you just divorce her?"

"Finances. I can either divorce her and support her and her lovers while I'm in poverty or I can stay married supporting her and her lovers while I keep some money along with my blue balls."

"Well, in my case Sandy, my ex-husband found a girl with bigger boobs and more money than I make. I figure I got half of nothing much, but I lost nothing I valued."

"So, are we kindred souls enough to go to your place or a motel and exchange bodily fluids?"

"Well, it so happens I have a SUV in the parking lot. It has tinted windows. No back seat. There's a comfortable air mattress. And I have baby wipes available for clean up after."

"Damn, you came prepared."

"Sandy, I'm looking for lust in all the right places. Why waste time with the usual dating dance?"

Sandy threw down a $20 and followed her to her vehicle. "Do you want me to use a condom? I'm clean."

"You wouldn't lie to me about being clean, would you stud?"

"I'm clean as far as I know. If I was still fucking my wife, now then I couldn't swear to that. So, as far as I know my current sex partner, my hand, doesn't have any venereal diseases."

"Sounds good enough to me. As far as fear of pregnancy, I'm on the pill so we're 97 percent covered for that problem."

"I'll play those odds any day."

*****

AFTERGLOW

"So, Lena, how was it for you?"

"Oh, Sandy, that was the best sex ever! You touched me in places no man has ever been! You've spoiled me for anyone else. Woe is me!"

"Smart-ass!" They both laughed.

"Seriously, Lena, how do you feel being the 'other woman' now?"

"Actually, I had been thinking about that. It doesn't really feel like I'm helping you cheat. Do you feel like you're cheating on your wife?"

"More like 'getting even.' By my calculation, I'm about 1000 fucks from equaling what she has done."

"I don't think I can help you get even all in one night as interesting as it would be to try. I'm pretty sure I can get you one more fuck closer to your goal tonight though."

Their second session of the evening was slower and much more loving. Neither knew exactly what to say afterwards. It seemed they were both afraid of saying love words in the afterglow that would reflect feelings they might not agree with tomorrow. They got their clothes on in silence.

After getting out of the SUV, Lena remarked that she was going home. Sandy felt he had to say something. "Hey, if you get tired of your dildo, give me a call. I kind of enjoyed it, kiddo."

"Wow! Sandy! Talk about a ringing endorsement! If I'm that good at sex, I might have to start charging. . . . Sorry. Couldn't resist the sarcasm. Sandy, honestly, I enjoyed being with you. It felt good to have sex with someone decent and no hidden agendas. In fact, I wouldn't mind a re-match at all."

"Damn girl, if you're going to get that mushy, just forget it." They laughed a little and then gave each other a searing kiss good night. It was obviously meant to last in hopes of a next time.

Sandy went home, or, as he called it: the house in which he and his wife lived together sometimes. He was strangely content with how the evening had gone. Lena had reinforced his hope that there were some nice women out there not spoken for. He eased into bed and remembered the sight, feel, smell, and taste of Lena's slightly used body. Slumber came quickly.

The next morning, Sandy went downstairs to fix coffee. As the coffee was brewing, his wife Keri came in. She looked like she had too much to drink and too many of her holes abused. She looked at him and said, "What the hell are you looking at?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that the truth might get me killed."

"I suppose you think that is funny. Aren't you going to ask what I've been doing all night, my dear concerned husband?"

"I believe it's fairly obvious what you've been doing. Let me guess. I would venture to say you got drunk from alcohol for sure and maybe some other controlled substances illegal without prescription. You probably danced a lot, some dances with your clothes actually on. And I would say that all three of your holes were occupied at one time or another by the penises of several other men. So, did I guess right or not?"

"Well, smarty-pants, you're wrong. I didn't dance, clothes on or not. I just drank, smoked some killer weed, and fucked a dozen men of various ethnic groups. I let them have me any way they wanted. And you can't do a thing about it unless you want sloppy seconds."

"I'm working on it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I would explain it, but the two brain cells you have left don't seem to be communicating coherently right now. Why don't you go sleep it off while I go to work?"

"Before you leave, where's the fucking Tylenol?"

"I never knew Tylenol could fuck, but it's in the fucking medicine fucking cabinet, like fucking always."

"You don't have to be snarky about it."

"Yes, dear."

"Fuck you, you faggot."

*****

Time went by. Lena and Sandy had a couple of more dates that involved more than just sex, but each date did end with sex, sensuous sex. Lena was the one who decided to end it. She told Sandy she was feeling like she was in danger of wanting to get serious with him. Lena also felt more and more like she really was becoming the 'other woman' in Sandy's marriage especially because Sandy mentioned no progress towards being divorced. He didn't seem to be in a hurry if he was doing anything at all. Sandy said he understood her apprehension and asked if she wanted him to call her if things changed. Lena had little hope, but she believed in never saying never. She agreed to keep in touch.

More time went by without any major changes in Sandy and Lena's lives, however, both began to miss the other more as time went on. It was getting harder to conceal their feelings in the calls.

*****

SANDY'S ARREST

Sandy was watching TV when the doorbell rang, and accompanied by someone pounding on the door, too. He opened the door to see two policemen waiting there.

"Good evening officers. What can I do for you?"

"Are you Sandy Jackson?"

"Yes."

"And do you have a wife named Keri Jackson?"

"Unfortunately, yes." That answer took the policemen by surprise.

"I'm sorry to inform you sir, but your wife has been killed tonight."

"Really? How? A car accident? I hope not. We just bought her a new car."

"No, she was shot. Mr. Jackson, you . .

"Sandy, like in Sandy Koufax."

"Mr. Jackson, excuse me, Sandy, you don't seem very surprised or the least upset by the news. Maybe you better come down to the station with us for some questions."

"Am I a 'person of interest?' I've always wanted to be a person of interest. I watch Law and Order re-runs a lot. Lenny is my all-time favorite character. Anyway, from what I learned from watching, the husband is always the prime suspect. We are talking murder, aren't we?"

"Yes. It is being investigated as a homicide."

"Let me get a jacket." He did and they drove off with him in the back seat of the police car. "I've always wanted to ride in a police car. I guess it would be too much to ask for you to flash the lights and turn on the siren. I would love to give the neighbors something to gossip about." They declined.

At the police station, Sandy was taken to an Interrogation Room. He sat at the table and waved at the unknown persons behind the two-way mirror. In a while, a male and female in plain clothes came in.

"Who is the good cop and who is the bad cop?"

The male officer answered, "I wish those damn cop shows had never mentioned that." He paused. "Mr. Jackson, I am Detective Bennett, and this is Detective Armbruster. We will be asking you some questions about your wife's murder. You are not under arrest so whatever you say is of your own free will. If you want to have a lawyer present, then we will stop asking questions and decide whether to charge you with a crime or not. Am I clear?"

"Crystal! That is what you guys say, right?"

Sandy's comment was ignored. "Even though you are not under arrest . . ."

"I know. I'm a person of interest."

"Are you done now with the cop show cliches? I need to tell you that what you do tell us is supposed to be the truth. If you lie to us, you can be . . . "

"Charged with lying to the police. Ooops, sorry."

"May I start the interview, please?"

"I apologize. It's just that my life is usually dull, and this is exciting for me. You think I murdered my wife."

"So, you think being accused of murder is exciting? Don't you feel any remorse for the loss of your wife?"

"No. I lost her a long time ago. I feel bad when anyone dies, but the truth is that Keri was a horrible, cheating bitch. Tell me, how did my dear wife die?"

"Two shots to the back of the head."

Sandy interjected, "Sounds like a professional hit to me."

"Will you please leave the forensic conclusions to the police? But, yes, it does look like a professional hit."

"Well, I'm not a professional hit man. I wonder if there's a school where you can learn the trade? Anyway, I guess you figure I could have hired one. Are they listed in the phone directory?"

"No, smart ass, but you know someone who could find one: Petro Marconi."

"Petro. My boyhood friend."

"With Mafia connections."

"Yes. That's about the most interesting thing I have in my personal history -- a friend with Mafia connections. I'm sorry. You were saying that I got Petro to find me a hitman."

"I was saying it was possible."

"Can we get to the good part? Let's see me see what the case against me is. I definitely had motive: I hated her, and she threatened me with a financially devastating divorce on a regular basis. I had opportunity because I was home watching TV, and no one can verify that. You already probably know I don't own a registered gun. What type of gun was it? A 22? That's what the TV shows say are used for head shots by the pros. Of course, I could have bought an illegal gun, although both legal and illegal guns are getting harder to find now that the anti-second amendment liberals have taken over the government. I would be glad for you to check my hands for gunshot residue. Of course, I could have worn gloves. Yes, me having my old friend hire someone through his 'Mafia' connections to kill her and get rid if the gun. It seems like a slam-dunk case to convict me. Are you going to arrest me now? I didn't bring any extra clothes to spend the night."

Female Detective Armbruster commented, "You are one weird dude."

"Thank you. I must say Mzzzz Armbruster, that if you are deliberately trying to portray yourself as a bull dyke cop, you're doing an excellent job." Her face turned burning-red angry.

"That's enough, Mr. Jackson. Right now, I think we have a pretty good case against you for murder and attempted murder . . ."

"Wait, how can I be charged with murder and attempted murder on the same person. Murdering someone kind of includes attempting it in the first place, doesn't it?"

"I was talking about her lover who was also shot and is in critical condition at the hospital now."

"Hold on there, detective. No one told me about a lover being shot. Which lover was it?"

"She had more than one?" Sandy nodded his head. "The guy that was shot was her trainer from Planet Fitness. They were in the parking lot in the back seat of her car. He was shot in the genitals several times. He lost a lot of blood before the EMTs got to him."

"Shit. They got shot in her car. Damn, do you know how hard it is or not to get blood stains off of upholstery? I don't. I hope I don't have to replace the back seat to be able to sell her car. Sorry. I got off track.

"So, if I understand correctly detectives, you are alleging that I killed my wife and castrated one of her lovers by using bullets. The biggest flaw I see in your case against me so far is the number of plausible alternative culprits. What about the wives and girlfriends of all the married men she fucked? What about the pair's other lovers who might have wanted revenge on her taking on a new lover? Given the number of men my wife cheated with, I'm afraid your suspect pool may be a lot larger than you first thought. There are a lot of people you will need to talk to and check their alibis given the plethora, don't you love that word, of jealous lovers, lovers' wives and/or girlfriends. I'll make you a list of all the lovers I know about. There were a couple of women she usually went trolling with I put on the list too. They should be able to give you a lot more names. After I give you that information, why don't you work on trimming down the list of possibilities before you call me back? Can I go home now? And please let me say it, 'Don't leave town.'"

*****
Sandy was surprised at the number of people who had jumped to the assumption that he had indeed killed his wife. Most knew his action would have been justified. But surely, even in this post-etiquette world it was not considered polite for people to flat our ask him, 'Well, did you kill her?' Like someone facing the death penalty or life in prison if convicted would tell you if he did. He stuck with a standard response: "No, I didn't, but I'll be happy to buy a drink for the person who did." Then he would usually add, "I'm lying. . . I would buy a whole case of beer for the guy or gal who killed her."

It became a waiting game. Nothing could happen on settling her estate or collecting her life insurance until her killer was found and convicted. If that proved to be Sandy, he would not be allowed to inherit. Without Keri's income, Sandy had to be much more frugal although it wasn't too different because Keri spent a lot of the money she earned on booze, drugs, and boyfriends. Lena noticed Sandy's absence from the bar they frequented. The bartender informed her of his legal predicament. She called Sandy and offered her condolences and a six pack of his favorite beer. He declined and explained that he did not want people to know that they were lovers because that might make her a suspect of killing his wife so that the two of them could be together. Lena laughed. "I can see the headlines now. THE OTHER WOMAN DID IT."

"Don't laugh, Lena. Your confession might have been heard by the wiretap I assume the police has on my phone. She was just kidding officers."

"Oh shit. I guess I need to get rid of the murder weapon right away then." They both shared more laughs.

"Lena, thanks for the kind thought. I sincerely appreciate it. Gosh, I have really missed seeing you. So, bring me up to date. How's the dating game been going for you lately. Any sign of Mr. Right #2?"

"No, Mr. Right of any number. My dating life is on life support although it hasn't completely flatlined. My dildo, however, is complaining about overuse. I am getting to the point where it may be time for me to be less picky about finding Mr. Right to settle down with and have children with before I get too old. Know anyone stupid enough who might be interested in me?"

"Well, if I don't get the death penalty or life in prison, I am stupid enough that I would be interested in at least getting an application from you. At least we know we're sexually compatible."

"That we do know, for sure. Changing subjects, have they said anything about arresting you?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid it would take a miracle for them to find the true killer in the haystack Keri's dalliances created. It looks more and more that I will be the most likely suspect and they'll decide to prosecute me just to try to convict someone. Too bad the trainer died. He might have been able to recognize the shooter."

"Okay, Sandy. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you and I don't care what people think about us other than you, although sometimes I'm not too sure about you."

"Thanks Lena, that means a lot, not a whole lot, but a lot." Both ended the call wishing they had said something more meaningful, like 'Love you.'

*****

Sandy's prediction came true. Not one of the possible suspects from the group of girlfriends and wives of Keri's lovers had as strong a likelihood of being the killer as he. His trial was started almost exactly six months after Keri's death. Sandy didn't testify. His honesty about how he felt about his promiscuous wife was a potential danger to strengthening the chances of his conviction. His lawyer based Sandy's defense on the multitude of potential other culprits who also had motive and opportunity.

When he cross-examined the detectives, Sandy's attorney asked how many women were in the pool of possible revenge minded suspects. There were close to a hundred. The jury was astounded. Next, he asked, "Of those suspects, how many did not have an alibi for that night.' The answer was 38. Again, the jury was shocked. Then the attorney asked, 'Are you sure you got the names of all the men that Mrs. Jackson had sex with. The detective looked upset and said, 'There were a number of men Mrs. Jackson allegedly had sex with where we only knew the first name and could not find them to interview them or their wives or girlfriends.' The DA gave an 'Oh, no' expression.

The detective was surprisingly honest when he was asked why Mr. Jackson had been picked for prosecution over the other lovers and/or their spouses/partners, he said, "You'll have to ask the DA. Mr. Jackson was the most likely suspect, I guess." The DA looked at the detective with a look that could kill.

Sandy sat for three days in limbo while the jury deliberated. Finally, the judge declared a mistrial after the jury was stuck on an 8-4 guilty/not guilty vote for the last two days of voting. The DA decided not to try Sandy again. He had not been able to prove that motive and opportunity was enough to convict him beyond a reasonable doubt. The number of unknown other potential suspects and the lack of evidence that his friend had arranged a hitman, gave the DA hope of ever getting 12 people to agree on a guilty verdict. As Sandy celebrated, he saw Lena leave the courtroom crying. It was several days before she would answer his call.

"Lena, I hope those were tears of joy you had."

"No, I was sad. I always wanted to tell my friends I had dated a killer. Of course, you idiot, I was happy. Sandy, I am so glad you're free now. I'm not that religious but I prayed they would not find you guilty."

"I actually wasn't guilty, so it was a good thing several members of the jury agreed enough."

"I knew you weren't guilty."

"I appreciate your confidence in me."

"No, I mean I KNEW you weren't guilty."

"What are you saying?"

"Sandy, I am the one that killed your wife and her trainer."

Sandy paused while the shock set in. "Lena, I find that hard to believe. Why would you do that?"

"Sandy, I fell in love with you in spite of trying not to. Even when we stopped dating, I thought of you and us every day. I wanted you to stop suffering from being married to that bitch. When I couldn't stand to see you suffer anymore, I got my father's old 22 pistol. I followed her and waited for the right moment. That night I saw her get in the trainer's car. No one was around, so I went and shot them both. I tried to make it look like a professional hit. I watch Law and Order too. I got worried though in the courtroom when I heard you had Mafia connections. You never told me that. That made me afraid I had helped make the case against you."