The May Day Murders (21 page)

“
Thompson has a real problem
with the press—you know that. And that’s why your boss is such a
puppet. He sucks Thompson’s ass.”

Sam grinned. “You know, I’ve always
wondered about those two. You don’t suppose they’ve got something
going, do you?”

Roger guffawed. “Never gave it much
thought. They would make a cute pair though, now that you’ve
mentioned it.”

They both laughed as Roger picked up
the check, surveyed it, and laid a tip down on the table. “I’ve got
to head back to the station,” he said, standing up.

Sam let his friend pay the check and
followed him out of the restaurant. When they were inside the Jeep,
Roger said, “Where were you when I called, by the way? And don’t
tell try and tell me that you were in the sack with some
chick!”

Sam started the engine. “Actually, I
was.”

Roger gaped at him. “No
shit?”

Sam peered over at him and said, “You
seem surprised—I’m not a fucking monk, you know!”

“
You haven’t exactly been
Joe Stud, either. So who, may I ask, was this babe? She must really
be a fox to be able to get you to break down your self-imposed
post-divorce virginity, I’d think.”

Sam backed out of the parking spot and
onto the street.

“
Ironically, the same fox
who got me there in the first place,” he said.

“
You’re shitting me! Shelley
Hatcher?”

“
The one and only,” was
Sam’s reply.

“
This, I’ve got to hear,”
Roger stated with relish.

“
Not much to say, really.
Shelley dropped by the house last night at around two in the
morning and said that she wanted to show me her portfolio. One
thing led to another and the next thing I knew, we were rolling
around on the floor. That’s about the extent of it.”

“
Whoa, I’m
stunned!”

“
Gotta admit that I’m a
little surprised myself. Besides the craziness of the whole thing,
I actually enjoyed every minute of it.”

“
Hell, who wouldn’t? Shelley
Hatcher is a fucking knockout!”

“
I didn’t mean it that way,”
Sam said. “I meant that I actually don’t have any regrets that it
happened. No guilt—you know—Ann and all?”

“
What’s there to be guilty
about, for chrissakes? You aren’t married to Ann anymore. You’re
free as a fucking bird. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you
didn’t do anything wrong in the first place, you lucky son of a
bitch. There just might be some hope for you yet!”

His friend’s encouragement was
infectious. A grin came to his face as Sam said, “Well, I don’t
exactly feel like going out and shooting myself, that’s for sure.
Shelley Hatcher is actually a pretty decent girl—has a good head on
her shoulders for a twenty-year-old living in this fucked up
generation. Maybe I feel like I should feel guilty more for what
Shelley Hatcher is: the girl who broke up my marriage.”

“
Fuck that! That’s all water
under the bridge, man!”

“
I realize that; but at the
same time I’m trying to look at it from Ann’s point of view. She’d
shit a golden brick if she ever found out.”

“
You worry too much, buddy.
First of all, how in the hell could she find out? She’s a hundred
miles away! And second of all, how do you know that Ann isn’t
playing the field herself nowadays? Hell, maybe she’s actually
decided to get on with life instead of living day to day in the
past like your sorry ass has been doing. Ever think about
that?”

Actually, he hadn’t. Ann had spoken
very little about her personal life since moving to Columbus, he
now realized. And he hadn’t exactly been pumping her for
information in that regard either; probably because he knew that
if Ann actually was going out with someone, he wouldn’t
particularly want to know about it.

“
Okay, you’ve made your
point,” he told his friend. “Ann could be fooling around with
someone and I no doubt would be the last one in the world to know
about it.”

“
So there you are. My advice
is to quit worrying so goddamn much and stop and smell the coffee
once in a while. Go for it! Enjoy yourself for a
change!”

“
You’re right, and I know
you’re right. I guess I just feel a little weirded-out, that’s
all.”

“
Because you’ve forgotten
what it’s like to have a good time.”

“
I reckon so,” Sam
confessed.

“
Is Shelley still at your
place?”

“
Yeah. Her car’s stuck in a
drainage ditch in my driveway. Why?”

“
Because if I were you, I’d
keep her there for a while, if she’s willing. Get back on the track
and leave the past behind while you’ve got the chance. Jesus, Sam!
If I had that chick hanging around my doorstep, I sure as hell
wouldn’t send her home!”

Sam laughed. “I’ll give your worldly
advice some serious consideration, Doctor Hagstrom. In the meantime
though, I’m going to run a few errands while I’m in town and think
all of this out. Ain’t got a drop of liquor in the house and I’m
down to my last egg.”

“
Sounds like my place,”
Roger said as Sam pulled into the police station parking
lot.

“
Keep in touch,” Sam said as
Roger started to get out. “When are you taking a day off, by the
way?”

Roger opened the door and said, “You
mean there’s really such a thing as that?”

“
At least you’re getting
paid scads of overtime.”

“
Fuck, they’ll probably
screw me out of that, too.”

With that, Roger Hagstrom got out,
slammed the door and headed toward the station.

As he drove away, Sam Middleton had a
lot on his mind.

* * *

An hour later, as he pulled up beside
his house and got out of the Jeep, Sam wondered if Shelley was
still in bed asleep. His question was answered when he reached the
front door: Shelley was standing just inside the doorway,
apparently awaiting him. Her face was white as a sheet.

“
What’s wrong, Shelley?” he
asked uneasily as he stepped inside and set the groceries on the
floor.

She stood rigidly and looked away from
him as she spoke. “Ann just called,” she announced
dismally.

Sam felt his pulse quicken and his
heart skip a beat. “What did she say?” he asked, hoping rather
futilely that whatever had been said by his ex-wife had been said
to his answering machine, and not to Shelley Hatcher.

Futile, indeed.

Suddenly, Shelley broke down. “You’re
going to hate me!” she cried. “I should have never answered the
phone!”

Sam felt his blood pressure go up 20
points, but he struggled to keep calm. “What did she say,
Shelley?”

Again, Shelley looked away from him.
“She asked for you. I told her you weren’t here,” she began slowly.
Then she faced him again, tears streaming down her lovely face.
“She knew it was me, Sam!”

She threw her arms around him and
buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, Sam. It looks like
I’ve screwed you up again,” she sobbed.

Sam patted her back halfheartedly. “How
do you know that Ann knew it was you?” he asked lamely.

Her muffled reply was, “Because she
said,
‘This is Shelley Hatcher, isn’t it?’
I froze up, Sam,
and couldn’t answer. Then she yelled
‘slut!’
and slammed
down the phone.”

Sam was speechless. His anger at
Shelley’s answering the phone in the first place was offset by his
own stupidity for not telling her before he left to let the
answering machine field any calls he might have until he returned.
But utmost in his mind was the overwhelming guilt he now felt and
how incredibly small and fiendish he must now look in Ann’s eyes
now that she knew he had been with Shelley Hatcher, of all
people.

There is no way out of this, he
thought. He’d been caught red-handed yet again and Ann was never,
ever going to forgive him.

Shelley Hatcher is bad news
…

Remember telling yourself that,
asshole?

Sam’s immediate impulse was to run to
the phone, call Ann, try to explain. But there wasn’t anything to
explain.

Jesus Christ! he thought. Was he not
the most luckless son of a bitch on earth, or what?

Shelley’s incessant sobbing prevented
him from flying totally off the handle. Again, just like the first
time, she wasn’t to blame for this and Sam knew it. He’d given into
temptation, again, and now he was going to have to face the
consequences … again.

And now, in spite of his anger and
frustration, and as ironic as it was, he realized that he felt even
worse for Shelley Hatcher than he did for himself. He held her
tight and felt the odd and impulsive urge to kiss her, which he
did. Then he talked to her, gently, and eventually managed to calm
her down somewhat. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the
bedroom, where they spent the remainder of the afternoon making
wild and passionate love.

CHAPTER 13

Sam glanced over at Shelley to make
certain that she was asleep, slipped quietly out of bed and tiptoed
out of the bedroom. It was dusk and long shafts of sun shone
through the window as he made his way to the den and picked up the
phone. He dialed Ann’s number.

“
Hello?” he heard her
say.

“
Hi, Ann.”

There was a moment of silence and Sam
guessed that she was deciding whether or not to hang up on him.
Finally, she spoke.

“
What do you want?” Her tone
of voice was undeniably terse.

“
Please hear me out, Ann. I
know you’re pissed at me right now and I don’t really
blame—”

“
Pissed?” she interrupted.
“I’m a lot more than just pissed, Sam! How could you? After all the
trouble that tramp has caused, you turn around and let her back
into your life. I’m so angry at you that I could just
scream!”

Before Sam could say anything, she
added, “And you sure have had a lot of nerve acting like you were
so hurt and torn up over the divorce—what a joke! I’m sorry I ever
fell for that load of crap. How long has this been going on? How
long have you been screwing that whore, Sam? Huh? How long have you
been snowing me with your bullshit?”

Sam was taken aback by Ann’s outrage.
He’d known she would be hurt and angry, but he’d never guessed
she’d be this hysterical. “I’m sorry, Ann,” he said weakly. “I can
see that you need some time to cool off, so I might as well not
even try to argue my case now. I just want you to know that I
haven’t been ‘snowing’ you, as you put it. I truly have been torn
up over our divorce and will always be. This is the first time I’ve
seen Shelley since—”

“
I don’t even want to hear
her name, Sam!” Ann snapped. “Furthermore, I’ve had all day to
‘cool down’ and I’m about as cooled down as I’m ever going to be.
Listen, why don’t you do us both a favor and just leave me alone. I
have nothing more to say to you. Nothing! You’ve really screwed up
but good this time, buster. So just have your fun with your little
slut friend and leave me alone!”

She slammed down the phone so hard it
hurt.

Sam stared vacantly at the wall with
the phone still to his ear. He was not only stunned by his
ex-wife’s onslaught, but angry as well. He deserved a little better
treatment than this—no matter how much he’d fucked up.

He deserved to be heard, at
least.

He pushed the redial button. It rang a
dozen or so times before Ann finally answered.

“
What?” she
hissed.

“
You’re being a little
unfair about this, don’t you think?”

“
Unfair?” she echoed. “I’m
being unfair? You’re a regular comedian, Sam.”

“
I just want you to take a
second here and look at the facts, Ann. We’re divorced, right? That
was
your
idea, not mine. But no matter whose fault it was
that we split up, the fact remains. We’re free now. Isn’t that what
you keep telling me? So I should be free to see whomever I want
whether you like that person or not. It just so happens that you
despise this particular person, so all of a sudden I’m a bad guy.
What if it were someone else? What would your reaction be then?
Better yet, try putting the shoe on the other foot. What if you
were seeing someone now? Would you want me to get all over your
case like you’re getting on mine? Would that be fair?”

“
You’re right about one
thing, Sam: I do despise that bitch and I probably would react
differently if it were someone else. But that’s the point. Why that
slut, Sam, of all the people on earth? Can’t you do a little better
than that?”

“
Shelley is not a slut, Ann,
and I wish you’d quit calling her that. She’s a nice girl—you don’t
even know her!”

“
Excuse me while I throw
up!” she said, undaunted. “That’s it, Sam. I’m out of here. I’ve
heard about all I care to hear. Have a nice life!”

“
Wait!” Sam shouted
furiously. “What are you trying to say? Are you telling me that you
don’t ever want to see or hear from me again? Is that it? What
about my daughter, goddamn it! What’s Amy got to say about all of
this? Are you trying to write her out of my life, too? Are you
going to tell Amy how terrible her father is and turn her against
me? Well, you’d better think twice if that’s what you have in mind.
I’ll fight you every inch of the way, by God!”