Catfishing in New York

"This is amazing!" she exclaimed. "You're just full of surprises." He grinned and turned around to resume driving after a horn blared behind them.

"Where are we going?" she asked a few minutes later.

"We're headed to my place out on Long Island," he said, looking at her in the mirror. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Oh, and to help you do so, I even fixed a Manhattan for you. You'll find it in the cooler."

Delighted, Sam helped herself to the cocktail and settled back to watch the flowing lights of the traffic. By the time they were over the Triborough Bridge, she found herself growing drowsy, and soon fell asleep. The driver glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror and smiled.

The cab with Mac and Willow followed the Lincoln with great difficulty. Several times they were almost caught at a stop light, but the cabby barreled through the intersection late, earning angry honks from the other cars.

As the cabby steered through the darkening streets, Willow caught Mac up on everything that had happened. "I tried to talk her out of it," she told him apologetically, "but she just wouldn't listen."

Then a look of concern came over the slim girl's face. "What are you going to do if we catch up with them, Mac?"

He gave her a grim smile. "Don't worry, Willow, I'm not going to shoot anybody. What I want to do is to catch the two of them together so there can't be any denials. With any luck, I can even grab a few candid photos on my phone as well."

Suddenly the cab turned off the highway, and Mac looked around in confusion. "Where are we?"

"We're in Queens," the driver told him "The Lincoln's still up ahead, but it left the main roads and I have no idea where they're going."

The yellow cab made its way through residential streets, trying to stay close enough to follow the big Lincoln but not close enough to be spotted. Suddenly, up ahead, they saw the Town Car abruptly turned off the street and into the driveway of a large, home-like structure. As the cab slowed and pulled past the entrance, they saw the Lincoln's headlights swing around the side of the building and disappear in back.

The cabby pulled over to the curb. "Okay, buddy, looks like this is the end of the line."

As he paid the cab fare, Mac looked around. "What is this place?"

The cabby pointed to an unlit sign with gothic lettering that read Rego Park Funeral Home. "Looks like your wife is having an affair with a funeral director. Anyway, this is as far as I go. You're on your own, now."

"Listen," Mac asked him, "how about leaving the meter running and waiting for us? We're not planning to be here long, and it probably won't be easy to find another ride out here at this time of the evening. I'll tack on another hundred dollars if you'll stay."

The cabby shook his head. "Sorry, it's not worth it. I heard what you've been talkin' about, and I don't wanna get mixed up in some marital dispute that could turn bad."

Mac tried to talk him into staying, but the man was adamant, so they reluctantly got out of the cab.

"What do we do now?" Willow asked.

Mac looked at the building skeptically. "I don't see any lights on in this place. Let's go around back and see if we can spot anything."

As they walked around the building, trying to be quiet, Willow whispered, "This is so weird. Why would they come to a place like this?"

"Damned if I know," Mac agreed. "It seems like a strange place for a roll in the hay." The two of them cautiously made their way through the dark.

It was the freezing temperature that awakened Samantha. Not only was the air cold, but the bed she was lying on was hard and felt like ice. Groggily she tried to sit up, only to discover that she was securely bound to an aluminum examining table without any sheets or padding. Her slut dress was gone and she was stark naked.

Lifting her head, she spotted her lover on the far side of the room. "Hey, what's going on? I don't like this bondage stuff -- set me free!"

He turned to glance at her. "Ah, you're finally awake. I was afraid I had made your Manhattan a little too strong and you'd miss all the fun."

"Well this may be your idea of fun but it's not mine. Now set me free!"

The dark-haired man shook his head disapprovingly. "You're just like every other cheating wife. You like whoring around on your husband, but when things don't go your way, you want everything back to normal. Well I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way."

Fear rippled through her, but she was determined not to show it. "Let me free and we can go to your bedroom. I'll be the best little whore you've ever seen."

He ignored her. "That's exactly the way my wife was. When I caught her cheating on me, she wanted things to go back the way they were. But I knew things could never be the same. That's why I had to kill her."

Sam gasped.

"And after she was gone, I found more wives who were just as eager to cheat on their husbands. There was nothing for me to do but to punish them as well. There are so many of them -- you'll make number 8."

Terrified, Sam began to cry. "Please, if you'll let me go, I promise I'll never tell anyone. Just set me free and I'll forget any of this ever happened."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, my dear Ms. Unforgettable. That would spoil all my fun."

"But my husband will be looking for me. He'll call the police. They'll find you and all your victims and lock you away forever."

"Now you're becoming boring. In the first place, your husband thinks you're in Albany. He won't even begin looking for you until tomorrow evening. And even when he figures out you're not upstate, he'll never find you. You'll be buried in the cemetery in the same coffin as that poor stiff who died in the automobile accident earlier this week." He laughed. "That's the beauty of a closed-casket burial -- you can put anything you want in the coffin and no one will ever know."

"But I thought you said you worked in futures."

He laughed again. "That was just my little joke. When you say you're a funeral director, you don't seem to attract many women. But in a way I was telling the truth, because a funeral service is in everybody's future. Of course, cheating sluts like you don't have a very long future once they meet me."

As he was talking, she watched him donning a full-length disposable bio-hazard suit. "What are you doing?" she asked fearfully.

"I'm afraid it's going to get awfully messy in just a minute. You know, to prepare a body for burial, we have to open them up first. That's what this little baby is for," he said, holding up an electric bone saw. He turned it on briefly and she screamed in terror at its high-pitched whine.

"Feel free to make as much noise as you like," he smiled. "This place is sound-proofed, so no one will hear you." He lifted the saw again. "With adulterers, I like to start at their cheating cunts and work my way north. It's always interesting to see how far I can make it before they die. One whore actually kept screaming until I reached her sternum." He turned on the saw. "Let's see how well you do."

Mac and Willow noticed light coming from the basement level windows, and they furtively made their way through a line of bushes planted near the building. When they got close enough to peer in the window, Mac gasped out loud when he spotted Sam bound on the examining table. "What kind of kinky sex is she into?" he asked in astonishment. "No wonder I couldn't satisfy her."

He pulled out his phone and began to take photos. Just then, Willow grabbed his arm and pointed to the other side of the room. "Look, over there. That must be the man she's been meeting."

Mac turned his head and then looked at Willow in confusion. "Why is he wearing that protective suit if they're going to have sex? Something's not right."

Just then, the man held up the bone saw. Willow cried out in horror, "He's not going to screw her, he's going to kill her!"

Mac looked around desperately and spotted a half-full garbage can sitting against the wall. "Get back, Willow," he yelled. Then he grabbed the can, swung it around and smashed it into the basement window. Kicking out the broken shards of glass, he scrambled through the shattered window frame. But as he tried to lower himself, a piece of glass caught on his suit jacket, causing him to tumble to the floor and sprain his ankle. He lay there awkwardly, clutching at his injured ankle and swearing.

"Who are you?" the funeral director yelled out in surprise.

"I'm her husband!" Mac shouted back from the floor.

The man laughed. "Then get out of here. I'm doing you a favor by getting rid of this cheating slut."

"She may be a cheating slut, but she's MY cheating slut. Now, get away from her."

The man sneered at him with contempt. "You must be one of those fucking cuckold wimps who likes watching his wife screw other men. I guess I'll have to get rid of you as well."

"No!" a feminine voice screamed out, and Willow lightly jumped down into the basement. "Stay away from him," she cried out as she hurried to stand between Mac and the man with the bone saw.

"What is this, the fucking Port Authority Terminal?" the man yelled. With his free hand he pushed Willow to the floor. "I'll come back for you in a minute, sweetie. First I have to take care of the cuck." With that he turned on the saw and stepped menacingly toward Mac. In desperation, Willow lashed out with her foot, catching the maniac on the knee cap. Caught off balance, he sprawled awkwardly on the floor, his throat landing on the whining bone saw. As the others watched in horror, a spray of red droplets filled the air and a dark red pool began to form around the hazmat-suited figure.

For a moment, everyone stared at the scene in stunned silence. Then Mac yelled, "Quick, Willow, call the police."

"No need for that," came a voice from the window, and when they looked up they saw the cabby peering into the room. He shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I couldn't leave without knowing how it ended. Anyway, I already called the cops; they oughta be here any minute."

At that moment, the wail of oncoming sirens made its way through the shattered window.

"And that's pretty much everything I know about what happened," Mac told the police detective. "You'll have to talk to my wife to get the rest of the details. Say, where is she, anyway?"

"We took her to the hospital to get her checked out, just in case. The police matron who went with her called a little while ago. They found a lot of Rohypnol in her blood stream, so they want to keep her overnight, just to make sure she's alright."

Hubby nodded. "So who was that maniac anyhow?"

"We've had him on our watch list a while because his name popped up in conjunction with some of those other wives who went missing. But we never followed up because we never found any bodies. In fact, in our records they're still listed as Missing Persons. But now it looks like we're going to have to get a court order to exhume some graves." He shook his head. "Your wife told us she was supposed to be victim #8. I'm afraid we're going to have to do a lot of digging."

Mac shuddered at that thought, then turned to the detective. "If there's nothing else, can I go now?"

"Sure. I think you've given us everything we need. We'll call you if something else comes up."

As Mac walked out of the interrogation room, he spotted Willow in the hall. "Hey, wait up," he yelled, hurrying in her direction.

Reluctantly she paused, her eyes cast down.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I was hoping to slip out before you were finished."

"Why would you want to avoid me?"

"I wrecked your marriage. Not only that, but I betrayed my best friend. I guess I figured you'd never want to see me again."

He lifted her face so he could look in her eyes. "You know you probably saved my life back there at the mortuary."

"I was just being my usual clumsy self. It was just an accident."

He ignored her. "You called me to warn me about Sam."

"I know, and after all she's done for me, I'll never forgive myself."

He took her by the shoulders. "She took advantage of your friendship, Willow. She's treated you like dirt all these years, and you know it. I could never figure out why you'd stand for it -- at least not until tonight. It wasn't her you were loyal to, it was me. You've been that way all these years and I never even saw it. You're in love with me, aren't you?"

She looked away, more tears running down her cheeks. He turned her back to face him. "You are, aren't you?"

"You chose her, not me. I had to respect that. I couldn't . . ."

He clasped her tightly to him, cutting off her sentence. After a long minute he held her out at arm's length. "I can't say the words back to you right now because it's too soon. I have a lot of things to get over, a lot of anger to process. But you've stayed with me this long -- do you think you can hang in there with me a little longer?"

She looked up at him with shining eyes. "You don't even have to ask."

Early the next afternoon, Willow knocked on the hospital room door, and when she heard "Come in," she entered to see Sam standing beside the bed. She was wearing the same dress she'd put on when she'd gone down to meet the Town Car. Instantly the two women burst into tears and embraced.

"I was sure he was going to kill you!" Willow wept.

"He would have if you hadn't shown up when you did. You were so brave to come after me." Sam looked down in shame. "I should have listened to you. You were right about everything." Then she smiled. "But don't worry, I'm going to make it up to you, big time. As soon as I'm back at work I'm going to see that you get a promotion and a big raise. It's the least I can do for you after all you've done for me."

At that moment, there was another knock, and Mac stuck his head around the door. "There he is!" Sam exclaimed, "my knight in shining armor." She ran to her husband and threw her arms around his neck. "I treated you so shabbily, and yet you came to my rescue when I needed you most. I'll never forget that, Mac. I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing my appreciation to you, to both of you."

Mac looked at her without expression. "You can start by getting rid of that iRendezvous app on your smartphone."

"What? Oh, of course, of course. I never want to see that damned thing again." She pulled away and picked up her overnight bag. "Can we go now?"

The three of them rode the hospital elevator down in silence and walked out to the street. Hubby went over to the waiting cab and held the door open for her. Sam slid in, then looked startled when Hubby closed the door behind her. Rolling down the window, she asked, "Wait, aren't you coming too?"

Mac shook his head. "No, I'm going home."

"But, that's where I'm going."

He shook his head. "You have a new home. I've rented one of those extended stay places out near LaGuardia for you. I even paid your first month's rent. That ought to give you time to decide what you want to do and where you want to go."

"But I don't want to live there, I want to go home."

"You don't have that option any more. You made your choice when you met up with your lover."

"But you saved me from him -- you must still love me."

"I didn't want to see that psycho gut you like a fish, but that doesn't mean I want to be married to you anymore."

Wife turned her tear-stained face to Willow. "I don't want to be stuck out in Queens. Can I stay with you awhile until Mac and I can work things out?"

"I don't think so, Sam."

"But we'll be working together. It would be so great, just like back in college. And don't forget about your promotion and your raise."

"I'll be submitting my resignation to the agency first thing Monday morning. Headhunters from other PR agencies have been contacting me for quite a while. I've decided it would be best if I accepted one of their offers."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the cabby interrupted, "but if I don't leave now, they're going to give me a ticket." With that he pulled away from the curb. Grief-stricken, Sam turned to look back and saw the two of them walking away, hand in hand.