Derailed (45 page)

She cocks her head at me. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”

“It’s easier for me to show you.”

“Oh, sounds interesting. Show me! Show me!”

I pull out my phone.

“Your favorite porn?” she asks in a cheeky voice.

I laugh and hit play. “Take a look.”

She squints as she watches. “Wha…?”

“Just watch,” I say. “You’ll see.”

When she sees Norman running up the street, I hear her sharp intake of breath. She looks at me, her mouth slightly open.

“Keep watching,” I say.

Her eyes return to the screen. Even after the video ends, her eyes bulge. 

I haven’t shown her the entire video where Norman’s face is revealed. I will keep that ace safely tucked up my sleeve for later.

After pressing all her fingers to her eyes, she wraps her arms tightly around her body. “I…I mean…like what…that video, it like…it doesn’t show a face.” Her voice crackles with nervousness.

“Yeah, but we think he looks familiar. Like that pharmacist in Wahroonga. What’s his name…Norman something…? You know, the one who lives in St Ives?”

Her face turns white, and even though her mouth moves to speak, no sound emits.

“I’m not sure, that’s why I won’t pursue it just yet. But the cops, man, they will dig until they strike oil.”

A loaded silence ensues. First one who speaks, loses. 

“I’m curious; why…haven’t you gone to the cops with your…your
grainy
movie that shows no face?”

I smile. Always a bitch. Even when she is facing a life sentence in prison, she’s being a smartarse. “I was hoping we can settle this. Sending you to prison for life is not going to bring back Bradley, Scarlett.”

I expect her to argue that she is not involved. I expect her to run to her daddy. I expect her to take a blunt object to my head – she does none of those.

“How?” she asks.

“Sign this house over to Rival and –”

“What!”

“ – give her every cent of Bradley’s life insurance money.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

I don’t answer.

“RIGHT?”

“And tell the cops you don’t think it was Rival who shot Bradley. You think it was a man.”

“Not a chance,” she shakes her finger at me. “In your dreams, pal. Not a chance. Not. A. Chance.” She’s cocky, but that’s okay.

I shrug and put my phone into my pocket. “Guess it’s time to visit Norman and his wife. She must know about you two, right?”

She deadpans. 

“Guess he’ll take a plea, testify against you. Always happens. The wimpy are the first to grab a deal and run with it.” I start to back away.

She doesn’t stop me. I walk back into the house and move toward the front door.

“Wait!” 

I stop walking, but I don’t turn around.

She darts around to stand in front of me. Cocking her head to one side, she slowly and seductively peels off her top and tosses it aside.

“Wow!” I say. “You sure have great tits.”

Her smile broadens as she wriggles out of her bikini bottoms and kicks them away. She’s had one of those Brazilian jobs, because it’s all bare down there.

I let out a low, long whistle. “Unfortunately, you’re my friend’s widow, so…” I shrug. “Pity.”

“Stop acting like you cared about him! You stole from him.”

This time my smile vanishes. “I
did
care about him. I cared so much, I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was sleeping with his ex-wife, whom he desperately wanted back. I tried to spare him, but he found out. I’m really gutted to know he died believing I was a tyrant. It bothers me, ’cause I loved him like a brother.”

“That’s bullshit. I don’t believe you.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” I chuckle. “Man, I always wanted to say that, Scarlett. Sorry.”

“Fine, fine, whatever!” she snarls, throwing down her arms. “Have it your way.”

At this point I expect her to put on her clothes, but she doesn’t. She stands naked in front of me. 

Her eyes dim and she cocks her head at me. “You know, you and I can really have some fun here. There’s a lot at stake, millions of dollars, and we can make
all
our dreams come true.” Her smile is back and her voice drops to a whisper. “We should talk about it,
Big
Mac.” Her eyes drop to my crotch and linger there for a moment.

“Nothing really to talk about, Ms. Scarlett.”

“Yes there is!” she snaps, obviously annoyed at my rejection. “Bradley loved me. Is this how you treat someone your friend loved? You call him your friend and yet you sell me –”

“Bradley loved Rival, Scarlett. He was even sleeping with her.”

“No, he wasn’t!” she spits.

“Yes, he was.”

“No, he wasn’t!”

“Yes, he was.”

“No he WASN’T!” Her display of aggression over a simple statement like that takes me aback. “Scarlett, you
proved
it to me. The video, remember?”

“No, the video only showed him
hitting
on her. He did not
sleep
with her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I had the house wired. I showed you only part of the vid –”

“He could have done it at his off –”

“His office was wired too. He never did. He never,
ever
slept with that slut!”

This is not making sense to me. Rival told me she slept with Bradley. Why would she lie?

“It could have happened anywhere, Scarlett. In his car? The backseat?”

“His car was wired too, Ritchie. He never slept with her.”

I turn my whole body to face her. “Scarlett…I…I… are saying that they never –”

“Why would I lie to you? I’d tell you if they did.”

“Well…” I scratch my head. “I mean, like…like, you told me they were, and Rival, she told me that they did. That’s why I am not with her.”

“I…I…I lied, okay? I wanted to get back at her, so yes, I lied. I honestly don’t know why she told you that, but she was lying. Bradley did not sleep with Rival. I sprayed his aftershave all over her things.” As she elaborates, my jaw slackens. For a few snowy moments, I can only stare at her.
Rival did not sleep with Bradley.

“All that doesn’t really matter now,” I say, trying hard to stay focused. “Bradley has two kids, they deserve what’s rightfully theirs. Sign all the papers
now
. Do the right thing. Let’s seal the deal, and I will not go to the cops. I’m tired and I wanna go home and get some shut-eye.”

The look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t believe me, even though I know that she knows she is cornered.

“Now? How the fuck do I do that? I don’t have papers all ready and waiting for –”

“I have.”

“What?”

“I have an attorney on standby. All the papers are drawn. Just need your precious signature on everything.”

She blinks rapidly. “You’re kidding me!”

“I kid you not.”

“Who?”

I throw open the front door. In a Lexus parked across the street is Vlad. I wave at him. He gets out of the car and walks toward us, a stack of papers in his hands. 

A look of panic crosses Scarlett’s face. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I just said we needed this to be notarized or whatever shit it needs to make it legal…and here he is.”

“Hello, Mrs. Mur –” Vlad’s greeting dies on his lips when he sees Scarlett naked. He shoots me a panicked look. “Ritchie?” 

I give him a mate-ask-no-questions look.

With a nod, he thrusts a pen into Scarlett’s hand. She eyes the pen and papers in disgust. 

“What’s this check for?” she asks. 

“I’m paying you fifty gs so it’s a bona fide sale.”

“Fifty grand? You’re fucking kidding right? This house is worth over two million dollars!”

Silence.

She glares at me.

“Accept this check, autograph these papers, and everyone wins, Scarlett.”

After a long session of teeth gnashing and telling me things about my mother I didn’t know, she snatches the pen out of Vlad’s hand and signs. Vlad, who tries really hard not to look at Scarlett’s naked body, scrutinizes the papers, adds his signature and then his stamp.

All done. My sigh is one of relief.

Just then, Vlad’s phone rings. He lets the call go to voicemail. Then his phone buzzes.

He looks at the screen, his eyes the size of saucers.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I need to leave. Now!” The knowing look he gives me tells me that I should accompany him.

“Thank you,” I say to Scarlett. I rush to follow Vlad.

“Ritchie wait!” she cries.

Ignoring her, I run up to Vlad. “What is it?”

“Rival’s been arrested. She’s been formally charged with Bradley’s murder.”

I look at him in utter disbelief. “You must be joking!”

He shakes his head.

I look at the time – 4:23 p.m.

As if reading my mind, Vlad says, “She’s going to spend the night in jail, Ritchie.”

“Oh, fuck!”

“We can try for bail tomorrow morning.”

I stand with both hands on my head.

SCARLETT

What the hell just happened? That man who stood in front of me, cold, and calculating, wielding his pen like a sword – was that the same man who appeared smitten with me yesterday? Was that the same bumbling giant who swam naked with me in my pool and carried my naked body into my house when I was tipsy? Was that the same swindling bastard who took me to a magnificent dinner just a few nights ago? Had I imagined it all? Or is Ritchie such a fine actor that I bought his act?

In a daze, I pace and try to absorb all that has just happened. I’ve been robbed. I’ve been played by someone I thought I could trust. I’ve been robbed by someone I totally underestimated. Mugged, that’s how it really feels. He’s taken everything of value to me and is giving it to Rival. Everything I worked my arse off to get will fall into Rival’s lap.

With a scream, I grab a glass vase and hurl it against the wall. “Bastard!”

Norman that weasel, it’s all his fault. How could he allow himself to be caught out like that? I told him several times not to show up at my door, but he just won’t listen. Now he has cost me everything near and dear to me. It is because of him that Rival gets all that is precious to me. 

In a state of panic, I mull over the video in Ritchie’s possession. It didn’t show a face. How will they trace it to Norman? They may never, and Rival may continue to be a suspect. Hopefully. But what if Ritchie talks and Norman is busted? Fuck, I don’t even want to consider that. All I can do is accept Ritchie’s word and hope that he does not show the video to the cops. I have no choice
but
to take his word.

I know one thing; Norman will never betray me. I just have to be very nice to him. I can do that. I pick up the phone and hit him with a text.

Im horny I need you now baby im gon do bad things to u

SCARLETT

Norman beams with happiness when I pick him up.

“Hey baby,” I say as he gets inside my Porsche.

“This is most unexpected,” he says, rubbing his hands together, his eyes sweeping over my bare thighs. “But very welcome.”

I smile and hitch my skirt a little more. “I missed you, that’s all.” 

His eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I give him a seductive smile. 

“In that case…” He slots his fingers between my thighs and strums away in a clumsy, uncoordinated manner that can never ever bring me to an orgasm. But I play along, and with a groan, throw my head back. “Norman don’t make me crash this car. I can’t come and drive at the same time, baby.”

He laughs. “I love it when you come.”

“Wait till we get to the hotel, sweetheart?”

His entire being bristles with excitement. “What you gonna do to me?”

I glance at him, then back at the road. “Make you scream of course.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah!”

I jerk my head toward the bag in the back seat. “Check out my arsenal.”

He does. “Ho! Ho! Ho! New stuff?”

“Oh, yeah. Keeping it fresh for my sex machine.”

He grins and again rubs his hands together.

At the next set of traffic lights, I move to take him in my arms. “I love you. Do you love me?”

“Oh yes,” he says, his thin and wriggly tongue worming its way into my mouth, his eyeglasses smashing into my cheeks.

“Will you marry me?” he asks when he surfaces for breath.

I smile. “Of course, baby. But…there is your other half. Remember?”

Thank God he’s married to Monkey. If he wasn’t, what would I do? I couldn’t bear to spend twenty-four seven with this klutz.

“I can get rid of Mungee, then we can be together. It’ll just be you, me and the kids.”

God, these men and their kids. No way am I going to put up with brats again. And he has
three
ugly kids! 

“That sounds really nice, sweetheart. We can be a family. I just love the thought of that.”

He smiles, exposing all his crooked, sweetcorn teeth. Why the fuck doesn’t he fix his goddamn teeth?

“How do we get rid of her?” I ask.

“Mungee has tinnitus, you know – ringing in the ear. Sometimes she gets dizzy. All I have to do is push her down the stairs. An accident – oops! A
fatal
one.”

Shit! He’s been thinking about it. But I don’t want Monkey out of the picture, I need her around.

“I can do it, Scarlett. We can live on the insurance money.”

Now he’s talking. “How much is the insurance money?”

“About three hundred thou.”

I can’t decide whether to laugh in his face or scream at him for being an idiot.

How the fuck does he expect me to live on three hundred thousand dollars? “Maybe not yet,” I say in a causal voice. “Too much too soon; know what I’m saying, baby? Let’s give it another six months or so.” I smile at him. “You’re not losing out in any way right now, right?”

“I just wanna be with you more,” he says in a pouting voice, both hands tucked between his thighs, his knees pressed tightly together, his shoulders rounded. (Men with small balls tend to sit like that. Men with
no
balls also tend to sit like that.)