If It Seems Too Good...

Life goes on, at least for most of us, so two weeks later I was two cups of coffee into my Monday routine when the cops called. Seems they were going to arrest Traci at her office, and as a courtesy to me, Stavros had them call me to tell me they would be at the police station in about 30 minutes - and that I should be prepared for the worst. He said she was being charged with the murder of Brian Lichty.

I hustled to the police station and actually got there ahead of Traci and the cops. She looked absolutely bewildered when two officers and Stavros brought her in handcuffed.

I approached Stavros as he went to his desk and the officers had Traci sit in the chair just off to the side

"Murder? Really? Traci?" My voice didn't sound steady. I worked on that affectation on the trip over.

Stavros gave me what I'm sure was his most condescending look, sighed, and then explained, "Mr. Arsdel, it seems your lovely wife here tried to kill you, but instead wound up killing her lover. She cut your brake line. That was supposed to be you going out for pizza, not Mr. Lichty."

"And you know she cut the brake line, how?" I asked in my most smug, can't-believe-you're-serious tone.

"Because our techs found the cut brake line at the scene and found everything else we needed right in your house: a puddle of brake fluid on your garage floor, a knife with brake fluid and her fingerprints on it in your toolbox and one of her tank tops with a few drops of brake fluid on it in your clothes hamper. Not to mention a few strands of blond hair stuck to the car's underside, which we're sure will match your wife's DNA when we get it taken at the station."

He upped my smugness just a bit, which made me smile to myself. I wanted to clap him on the shoulder and scream out, "Good job," but that might have been too obvious, so I just lowered my eyes and murmured, "Oh, dear God! Traci, how could you?"

"Wait a minute," I suddenly piped up, as though the thought just hit me. "Did you say lover? Detective, I've got to admit that we're swingers, and Traci and I and Brian and Connie ..."

Stavros interrupted me, again looking very smug.

"We've been very productive the last two weeks. We contacted your wife's employer, got a roster of people who work there and started digging, especially since we couldn't figure out why Mr. Lichty was driving your car. Seems that Mr. Lichty and your wife had a thing going on long before she involved you and a Connie Battaglia. Seems that several of her co-workers suspected and several others, including the aforementioned Miss Battaglia, knew about the affair, although no one else knew about the swinging, again except Miss Battaglia. In fact, your wife's boss was so incensed that he said if Mr. Lichty wasn't already dead, he would have killed him.

"I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Stavros concluded.

Traci, who had listened to this whole explanation in shocked silence, became hysterical at that point.

"Freddie, Freddie ... F-R-E-D-D-I-E! It's not true! None of it's true. I love you. I would never try to hurt you in any way," she shrieked.

I looked at Stavros with my best sad face.

"I don't suppose you know the name of a bad attorney, do you?" I said in a sad, jestful tone.

Epilogue

Despite her protests that she didn't cut my brake line and try to kill me, and actually killed Brian, Traci was convicted and sentenced to 20 years to life. I showed up in court every day and sat in the back, not saying a word to anyone. Although I hired her a decent attorney, the evidence against her was just too strong.

I only had contact with Traci just one more time, after she was convicted but before sentencing. We had a private visiting room, although since she was now a murderer her hands were handcuffed to the table and a guard remained just outside of the room. She was surprised to see me when I walked in. I hadn't taken any of her calls while she was on trial, didn't answer any texts, and I certainly never visited. Hell, I was barely civil to her attorney. She started to smile once her surprise faded, until she realized I wasn't there for pleasantries. I didn't even sit down. I just laid the divorce papers on the table, and told her to sign them when she got a minute. I started to leave.

"That's it? Twenty-four years and not even a fuck you?"

"You had me hook, line, and sinker, you dumb slut," I said, barely above a whisper. "But that wasn't enough for you. You had to go find yourself a fuck buddy. Then you rubbed my face in it by getting me to do threesomes with your fuck buddy. Just tell me one thing. Why?

Traci looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"It started out as just a bit of fun, some harmless flirting. Then it progressed to touching, and although I knew it was wrong, the first time we fucked it was magical. It was forbidden fruit and ... I just couldn't stop myself once I started. Then when I got you involved ... it was sort of like stealing candy from the dime store like when you were a kid. The thrill was amazing, and combined with the sex I was getting ... the feeling of power was like a drug. I couldn't get enough.

"But I swear to you, Freddie, on everything that's holy, that I never tried to kill you. I don't know how they got all that evidence. I didn't do it."

I looked Traci directly in her eyes, taking in what would probably be my last look at her ever, because I didn't plan on ever visiting again.

"I know, Sweetheart. I know."