Accidents Waiting to Happen (25 page)

Josh followed her into the kitchen and stood against the sink behind Bell.
 
“No, I’m not here for a social visit.”
 

“Shame,” she said.

She stood on tiptoe to retrieve a glass mug from the cupboard in front of her.
 
The robe climbed up the backs of her thighs to expose more of her slender legs.
 
The material clung to Bell’s stretching body.
 
It accentuated her waist and buttocks hidden beneath the rich blue silk, becoming nothing more than a second skin.
 
Josh’s gaze crawled over her body—its structure, proportions and form.
 
Her body moved gracefully, almost in a dance, all so very enticing.
 
Once.
 
She removed the mug and placed it on the counter next to the coffeemaker.
 

“Still attracted to me, Josh?
 
Still want to fuck me, Josh?
  
You can if you want.”
 
Her back still faced him.

The remarks took him by surprise.
 
She knew him so well.
 
He cursed himself for still being caught out by her stupid games.
 
Nothing about Bell was innocent.
 
Everything she did was carefully calculated.
 
She was tempting him.
 
She knew he’d look and look lustfully.
 
She knew exactly how to pull his strings but that was then and this was now.
 
He was no longer her plaything.
 
He was cutting the strings.
 
“No, thanks.
 
Like I said, I’m not here to socialize.”
 

Bell turned around to face him and met him with a grin.
 
She pulled the sides of the robe apart exposing her firm small breasts and erect nipples.
 
Leaning against the work surface, she slid her right leg up her left and the flimsy cloth fell from her smooth legs, exposing her completely.
 
“Are you sure?
 
Are you sure I can’t offer you something from the dessert cart?”

The coffeemaker coughed and spluttered as boiling water dropped onto the grounds.
 
Steam rose through the vents and a rising cloud appeared from behind Bell’s head.

Josh ignored Bell’s offer but not her exposed body.
 
He cast a glance over what his senses had already experienced then looked Bell in the eye.
 
“I’m here about the latest television scoop on Channel 3.”

She blurted out a laugh.
 
She lowered her leg to the floor and her naked body disappeared behind the curtains of swaying silk.
 
She wrapped the robe around her and retied it.
 
“Is there more sweat on your brow than I remember seeing earlier, Josh?”

“Channel 3, last night, was that you?”

“What do you mean?
 
Is your past coming back to bite you in the ass?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Well, I cannot tell a lie.
 
Yes, it was me.”

“Why?
 
I paid you.”

Bell dropped the smile in favor of a sneer.
 
“Yeah, but you thought you could push me around.
 
So I thought I would apply a little pressure to ensure you don’t do something stupid again.”
 

“So what’s the next step, leak them my name?”

“No, you keep your end up and I’ll make sure that they don’t find out any more.”

Josh knew that one day the money would dry up.
 
It wasn’t far off.
 
“But what happens when I can’t?”
 

She leered.
 
“What do you think will happen?”
 

“So be it.
 
If you’re going to skewer me, it might as well be sooner than later.
 
Go to Hell.
 
I’m not paying you anymore.”

Bell looked as if he’d slapped her.
 
“How dare you speak to me like that.”

Josh was in no mood to listen to a tirade and headed back to the front door.
 
He ignored the expletives that followed him.
 

He opened the front door, but stopped in the doorway.
 
“Here’s the deal, Bell.
 
I’m willing to give you a one-off payment that will buy your silence for good.
 
After that, I never want to hear from you again.
 
Let me know your answer in your own time.”

She followed Josh out into the front yard.
 
Her response never graduated higher than four-letter words.
 
“You’ll be sorry, Josh.”

Josh didn’t know if he would, but felt good.
 
He liked pushing people who pushed him.
 
He broke into a jog.
 

Bell shouted after him from the lawn.
 
Her threats soon lagged behind his pace somewhere in the distance.

Josh’s run back home invigorated him.
 
He felt stronger and more positive than he had in some while.
 
Finally, he’d taken some control of the situation with Bell.
 
She would no longer screw him up.
 
He’d tipped the balance of power in his favor.
 
Not even the notion that Bell could go straight to the media with his part in the Mountain Vista Apartments scandal could dampen his spirits.
 
His inner strength came from the ability to bring closure to the subject.
 
He no longer had to hide behind a wall of cash to keep the truth from coming out.
 
He would take his chances and deal with whatever consequences arose.

Josh sprinted the last hundred yards to his home and shaved five minutes off the two and a half miles from Bell’s.
 
Although sweat ran down his body and he breathed like an asthmatic wood saw, he felt good.
 
Josh took the key from his zipped pants pocket and opened the door.

“I’m back,” he called out to anyone who would listen.

Not waiting for anyone to answer, he started pulling off his sweatshirt and made his way to the bathroom to shower.
 
He had the sweatshirt over his head and one foot on the first stair when he was called back.

“Josh,” Kate said.

He had completely pulled the aptly named sweatshirt over his head but still had his arms through the sleeves as he turned to face his wife.
 
She sat on the couch in the living room with Abby and Wiener.
 
The image reminded him of Russian dolls.
 
Each doll removed from inside the others and stacked in descending order of size—Kate, Abby and Wiener.
 
Like the dolls, the three of them possessed the same blank looks.
 
The policemen from the hospital, Officers Brady and Williams, stood adjacent to his family in front of the fireplace.
 
Josh had been blind to the patrol car parked curbside outside his house.

“Oh, hi, I didn’t see you there,” Josh said.

The policemen nodded in acknowledgement.

“Please excuse my condition.
 
I’ll just have a quick shower and I’ll be with you.”
 
Josh smiled.

Nobody returned the smile.

“If you could be quick, sir.
 
We have some details to go over with you and we do have other calls to make,” Officer Brady said.

“Of course.
 
I’ll only be a minute.”
 
Josh shot up the stairs.
 
He hoped they had good news about finding evidence on Mitchell, but judging by the look on everyone’s faces, it didn’t look like good news.
 
He had no idea what else could have gone wrong.

Josh showered and dried himself swiftly but not entirely.
 
The tee shirt soaked up the damp patches from his body and a dark ring of wetness showed on his neck from where his hair had dripped.
 
The jersey shorts did a similar drying job to his lower half.
 
Barefoot, he returned to the living room.
 
The two police officers were sitting on the couch opposite his wife.
 
The room was in silence.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Josh said.

“Not a problem, sir,” Officer Williams said.

Josh sat on the arm of the couch next to Kate.
 
“So you got my phone call?”
 

“Josh,” Kate said and placed a hand on his arm.

“Could we go somewhere a little more private?
 
I prefer not to discuss this in front of your family,” Officer Brady said.

Kate squeezed his arm.
 
Josh looked at her and saw fear in her eyes.
 
She nodded at him.

“We could go into my office,” Josh suggested.

“Sounds fine,” Officer Williams said.

Josh led the policemen to the small office towards the rear of the house.
 
The policemen’s boots squeaked on the hardwood floor and their belts creaked.
 
The way they walked on either side of him made him feel like the proverbial dead man walking, being led to execution.
 

Josh sat at his desk.
 
The two officers bulged from the amply filled loveseat on the opposite wall.
 
He asked the policemen if they wanted a beverage.
 
They declined his offer.

“So you received my phone call at the beginning of the week about the man who ran me into the river?
 
Well, like I said, I met-”

“Mr. Michaels, we aren’t here about the traffic accident,” Brady interrupted.

The policemen looked at each other in confusion.

Josh was equally as confused.
 
“Then, why are you here?”

“We’re here regarding the threatening phone calls you made from this house,” Brady said and started to read Josh his Miranda warning.

Chapter Eighteen

“What?”
 
Josh’s feel good high drained out of him and a tingle of paralysis ran down his spine.
 
He shifted in his seat.
 
It no longer seemed to fit the contours of his body.
 
He struggled for words to respond.
 
Panic and guilt swam through his mind, bumping into things.
 
Had Bell made some trumped up accusation against him about their phone call?
 
Could she have recorded their phone call?
 
He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything that could be construed as threatening.
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Margaret Macey alleged she received a threatening phone call.
 
One in which a man claiming to be from an insurance company became abusive and made threats on her life,” Williams said, reading from his notes.

Hearing the name, Josh relaxed.
 
The name meant nothing.
 
Whoever made the call, it had nothing to do with his problems.

“What can you tell us, Mr. Michaels?” Brady asked.

“Nothing, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
 

The policemen didn’t look as if they were going to accept Josh’s denial as a defense.
 
Brady eyeballed Josh with a stare hard enough to crack concrete.
 
Josh felt the man didn’t believe a word he’d said from the moment they’d met.

Brady sighed, “Mr. Michaels, you are the only male in the house.”

“Yes.”

“Then I find it difficult to accept you couldn’t have made the call,” Brady said.

“Why?
 
I’ve never heard of this woman.”
 

Josh showed signs of guilt.
 
More than just water from his shower moistened his clothes—sweat appeared under his arms.
 
He didn’t know the woman, so why did he feel so damn guilty?
 
His palms were sweating and he wiped them on his shorts under the cover of the desk, but fresh sweat immediately sprang from his cleaned palms.

“Telephone records tell us the call was made from this house.”
 

Brady leaned forward, placing more weight on his accusation.
 
It was a cheap intimidation tactic and it worked.
 
Josh felt a noose tightening around his neck.