She could have been paralyzed for the rest of her life because you cheated on your husband. I guess I want to know if it was worth it to you.”
“Thanks for covering me up. I’m sure Callie would be happy you did that.”
I roll my eyes.
Connie says, “The short answer is yes. It was worth it. Not the part about Callie getting shot. If I had any idea that might happen, I would have gotten a divorce before dating Tom. But Ridley still would’ve tried to kill us. Apart from Callie being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yes, the affair was worth it. Contrary to what you might think, I’m not a whore. I don’t run around all over town, sleeping with men. I love Tom the same way you love Callie. And in your heart, I’m sure you know Tom and I had nothing to do with Ridley shooting her.”
“I see it differently.”
“Then why me?”
“Excuse me?”
“If you’re being all self-righteous about my affair, why aren’t you trying to string up Tom Bell? He’s fifty percent of the problem, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I wouldn’t say fifty percent. You’re the one who had the unstable husband.”
“I didn’t know he’d try to
“Maybe not. But you must have known the affair would take a major toll on him emotionally.”
“I honestly didn’t think he’d find out.”
“Because?”
“He’s always so busy.”
“With work?”
She nods.
“Is that your excuse? He was too busy? You wanted to be with him more, do things together, but he didn’t have time for you?”
“No. The truth is I was glad he wasn’t around more.”
“Why, did he beat you?”
“No.”
“Verbally abused you?”
“No.”
“Was he a drug user? A drunk? A gambler? A control freak?”
She laughed. “Nothing like that. Ridley was a good man. A good provider. A supportive husband.”
“But?”
“The truth? He was too fucking old for me.”
Ouch. There it is, the answer I least wanted to hear. Because all this is really about me trying to understand why a woman like Connie cheated on her husband. If it was something he did wrong, some flaw in his character, I’d feel better about Callie and me and our chances for survival as a couple. You see, Callie and I share the same age difference as Ridley and Connie. And Connie didn’t cheat on him because he mentally or physically abused her, or gambled, or drank, or anything else. She cheated on him simply because he was older.
“At what point did his age become an issue?”
“When mine did.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I hit a certain age I saw myself on the verge of being middle aged. By then, Ridley was no longer getting the looks from women I’d seen him get when we first got married.”
“But you were still getting them from men.”
“Yes. And I needed them.”
“You felt young around Ridley, but that didn’t count. When other women saw him as being old, you saw him the same way.”
“I suppose.”
“At the point you decided Ridley was too old to excite you, you were open to being excited by another man.”
“Now you sound like a psychologist.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Connie,” I say, looking at my watch.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I reach for the socks and duct tape.
“You know what I think?” she says.
“What’s that?”
“I think you’re a coward. I think you took my clothes off to humiliate me, and I find it hilarious you came to my house to pick on me.”
“Hilarious?”
“Yeah, that’s right, big shot. You’re a pussy!”
“You think?”
“A real man would’ve asked Tom Bell these questions. Of course, you obviously know Tom’s a seventh-degree martial artist who could kick your ass from here to hell and back. So this is how you beat him. In fact, it’s the only way a coward like you can beat a guy like Tom Bell.”
“How’s that?”
“By punishing me.”
“That’s an interesting theory.”
“Tell me, big shot. How does it feel to beat up a woman half your size, strip her, hang her upside down, threaten and bully her?”
“Honestly? It feels pretty good.”
“When Tom Bell finds out what you’ve done to me he’s going to do the same to you, times ten.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because I beat Tom to death before coming here.”
56.
CONNIE SAW TOM as some sort of invincible being. To his credit, he was, in fact, a tough son-of-a bitch. I told her that, and said he gave a good accounting of himself, so she’d have a good memory of him. Nevertheless, she didn’t believe I could possibly beat Tom Bell in a fair fight.
By way of proof, she said, “You don’t have a mark on you!”
“Not true,” I said, and rolled my sleeves up to prove it. “My fists are so swollen I can hardly close my hands. My wrists are sprained from the force of the impact, and my forearms are bruised to the bone.”
“That’s it?” she said. “I don’t believe it.”
“That’s okay. I’m not trying to impress you.”
“Why do you keep looking at your watch?”
“I’m waiting for it to be exactly three-sixteen.”
57.
I DON’T JUDGE people. When I accept a contract for hire, I take the attitude my victim has already been tried, found guilty, and sentenced by the person paying my fee. It’s easier that way, and prevents me from getting too wrapped up in “he-said-she-said” types of issues.
Likewise, I didn’t kill Tom and Connie because they had an affair. Half the people you pass on the street every day are having affairs. What sort of person would I be if I went around killing all of them? And although I never
