Scott Wittenburg - The May Day Murders

“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!”

“Shut up, Sam!” Ann shouted. There was a pause, and then she said in a calmer voice, “I am not that petty, Sam, and you know it. I’m not going to tell Amy about this, nor do I have any intentions of ever trying to turn her against you. This is just between you and me. And while we’re on the subject, I might as well tell you now that I’m seeing someone too. Now what do you have to say about that?”

Sam was shocked but somehow managed to sound calm. “I think it’s wonderful,” he lied. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“His name is Jerry. And he’s very nice-he respects me.”

“And I don’t?”

“Apparently not,” was Ann’s reply.

Sam felt his blood pressure soaring. “Oh, I see. And what else, may I ask, does ol’ Jer have that I don’t?”

“Well, let me see… blonde hair, muscular build, oh, and he knows the difference between a lady and a tramp.”

Sam refused to appease her. “Sounds like quite a guy, Ann-a discriminating super-jock. Good going, kiddo!”

“Are we through now?” Ann said, obviously piqued.

“Not quite,” Sam said. “I’d like to talk to someone who still loves me. Put Amy on.”

“Amy’s not here. She’s at a friend’s house.”

“Oh,” Sam said, disappointed. “Well, in that case, let me just say one more thing before I let you go.”

“Make it quick-I’ve got things to do,” she said curtly.

“This is serious, Ann, so please listen.”

He waited a moment to switch gears, then said, “Roger thinks he has a pretty good idea who may have killed Marsha and Sara.”

“Who?” Ann asked, her voice suddenly solemn.

“Do you remember Stanley Jenkins from high school?”

“The nerdy guy who always got straight A’s?”

“That’s the one. That’s who they think may have done it.”

“No way!” Ann exclaimed.

“My exact reaction, too. But believe it or not, it’s starting to look like he’s the prime suspect. Stanley apparently went off the deep end after high school and has a police record-arson and attempted murder. Only trouble is, nobody has seen him in fifteen years.”

“I just can’t believe it! Do they have any proof that he did it?” Ann asked.

“No, but they’re working on it. I’m having a hard time buying into this too; but if you knew what all they’ve dug up on Stanley, it might make you a believer. Anyway, I wanted to let you know.”

Ann’s tone of voice was nearly normal when she said, “Thanks, Sam, I’m glad you did.”

“I’ll keep you posted if anything more develops.”

“Okay… Well, I’d better go,” Ann said, her voice returning to an icy edge.

“Big date with Jerry?” Sam quipped dryly, unable to resist the urge to get the last punch in.

“Maybe,” Ann sing-songed, “And is the little slut still there with you?” She countered viciously.

Sam realized he should leave well enough alone but hadn’t yet recovered from the fact that Ann was seeing another man. And now he resented the way Ann kept dragging Shelley through the slime.

“Yeah, Shelley’s still here,” he declared.

“Well, I hope you both have a good fuck,” Ann spat before slamming down the phone in his ear.

“Touche,” he mumbled to the dead line.

Sam sat there for a moment or two before hanging up the phone. Finally, he stood up, went into the kitchen to get a beer, then went out to the back porch to get some fresh air and hopefully, some kind of perspective on where to go from here.

Ann’s blood was boiling when she hung up on Sam.

The nerve of him! she thought.

It had been nagging her all day and as hard as she’d tried to blot it out of her mind, she found that her anger only intensified the more she thought about that little bitch answering the phone like she was a permanent fixture at Sam’s house. And now, he’d had the audacity to call her and try to smooth everything over. Well, it didn’t work that time and sure as hell wasn’t going to work this time either. She had enough problems already without having to put up with this bullshit.

Her only saving grace had been the fact that she’d told Sam abut Jerry, which she would have never dreamed of doing otherwise. But the temptation to put Sam in his place at the time had been too great, and now she was glad she’d done it. It hurt him, she could tell, stung him like a bee, but he by God deserved it.

Ann went over to the sink and resumed washing the dishes, wishing that Amy would come down to earth once in a while and do a few chores around the house for a change. But she was so wrapped up in her social life that it seemed like there was no one else in her little world besides herself and her friends. Her mother was apparently only here for the purpose of putting a roof over her head, feeding her, and provide whatever other necessities might crop up along the way-like the new dress she had just bought her for the school dance next week.

Ann was just about to drain the dishwater when the telephone rang. Thinking that it might be Sam calling again, she took her time drying her hands before finally answering it.

“Hello,” she spoke curtly into the mouthpiece.

“Ann, it’s me. Have I caught you at a bad time? Karen asked.

“Oh, hi, Karen. Sorry, I thought you might be Sam.”

“Sounds like you weren’t exactly looking forward to his call.”

“You wouldn’t believe how mad I am at that man! I tried calling you earlier by the way-where were you?” Ann asked.

“Just running errands. So tell me, what did your ex do to get you so angry? And how did the date go last night?” her friend inquired.

Ann heaved a long sigh. “I guess I’d better start at the beginning. The date went very well-I had a great time. We went to Angelino’s for dinner then came here for a drink. Jerry’s such a nice guy! I wouldn’t call it love or anything, but I really did enjoy his company.”

“That’s great! So are you going to go out with him again?”

“Yes, I am. In fact, I invited him over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Are you serious? What about Amy?” Karen asked, obviously stunned by Ann’s apparent turnaround.

“Well, you’re probably going to get mad at me for not following your advice but I told Amy about Jerry this afternoon. Now before you tell me that I’ve made a big mistake, let me explain. First of all, as I told you before, I don’t like sneaking around behind Amy’s back. I want to be up front with her all the time. Can you imagine how she’d react if she found out about Jerry and I hadn’t told her about him? She’d never let me live it down! That’s just the way Amy is. So last night I decided that when Jerry called me today I was going to tell him that I only want to be friends with him and nothing more; that I’m not ready to start a relationship with anybody right now. I figured that if he could agree to those terms, then I’d continue going out with him. I think he really likes me, Karen, and I want everything out in the open before this goes any further and somebody gets hurt. Do you know what I mean?”