Authors: Vicky De Leo
He laughed. Loosening his tie and discarding his jacket, he came and sat by me.
I couldn’t stay mad at him, so I smiled. “There’s no reason for you to be jealous, we’re just friends, besides I‘m not exactly looking my best.”
He held my hand and said softly, “He would like to be a lot more than just your friend.”
I didn’t try to deny it. Instead, I climbed into his lap and looked deeply into his eyes. “All you need to worry about is what I want.”
Whereupon, he took my not so subtle hint, and kissed me until we were both breathless. Then he set me aside. “Woman, I need food.”
I laughed. I led him into the kitchen where Mom had left enough dinner for both us on the stove. “Sit, I’ll fill you a plate.”
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No, you sit. You’re the invalid.” He pulled out a chair, and stood there until I gave up and sat down. He filled a plate for each of us.
Over dinner, he told me how he spent his day in court testifying on a previous case.
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So that’s why you’re wearing the off the rack suit. I’m guessing the jury might suspect a police detective in Armani of less than complete honesty.”
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I get enough flack from the guys about the Porsche. By the way, I stopped in the precinct. I checked with the other investigators, but there is nothing new on Monica’s murder.”
After dinner, he rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. We went outside and sat cuddled up on the porch swing.
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Tell me about your ex-husband,” he asked.
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Why?”
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Because I’m assuming he’s the one responsible for your trust issues. I’d like to know a little more about the man I plan to hurt.”
I told him how I met Neil in high school and fell madly in love. “I knew even then that Neil dated other girls, but I believed him when he said he loved only me. Even when I went away to college and his letters were sporadic, I made excuses for him. He was busy. He was working. The fact that he made no effort to see me during that time should have set off alarms. I was always the one to fly or drive home to see him. After I graduated, he did finally propose and, holding on to the dream that everything would be different once we were married, I accepted. There was no storybook wedding. We just eloped one weekend. My folks had never approved of him, so it seemed like the best way at the time. I went to work. I ended up being our main support, while he drifted from one job to another, until he stopped working all together.”
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Is that why you divorced him?”
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No. It was what he was doing with all that spare time. In the back of my mind, I suspected he was being unfaithful. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide it. One weekend when I had to go out of town on business, things came to a head. When I came back, there were clear signs that he’d slept with another woman right there in our apartment. When I confronted him, he admitted it, telling me that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. I was the only woman he loved. He was shocked when I packed up and moved out. I filed for divorce. He filed for alimony.”
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You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “Once I started looking, it wasn’t hard to come up with proof of his many infidelities. My lawyer provided those to his lawyer, who then explained to him the likely outcome of his petition. He finally settled for a quiet dissolution of the marriage, sans alimony.”
Delgado had sat quietly while I talked. It was dark on the porch. I couldn’t see his face. It was probably more information than he wanted to know. Why did I feel compelled to tell him all that? I could have just done a quick summary. My ex-husband was unfaithful, so I divorced him. At least I wouldn’t have looked like a complete idiot. Embarrassed and convinced that Delgado’s silence meant he was trying to come up with a quick exit strategy, I completed my humiliation by babbling, "I don’t really blame Neil. He never really pretended to be anything but what he was. I was the one who built the dream and refused to see reality.”
Finally a reaction, Delgado growled, “You were naïve and trusting and he took advantage of you. He was an idiot as well as an asshole.” Then a little more calmly, he said, “I get why you have trust issues. What I don’t get is why you don’t hate him.”
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Would it help if you knew that I spent the first couple of years after the divorce fantasizing about hiring a hit man to take him out, preferably while he was in bed with one of his bimbos?”
He laughed. “Yes, that does help.”
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After a few years, I found all that hate and anger were just too exhausting. He wasn’t worth the effort.”
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I can’t argue with that.”
Since Delgado was still holding me and hadn’t bolted for the door, I said, “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your wife.”
I felt his body tense. For a moment he didn‘t say anything. I wondered whether he would tell me.
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We met and married in college. After graduation, we both went on to law school. My father gave me a generous allowance. I didn’t have to work. We had an apartment not far from campus. One night while I was out drinking with my buddies, Sophia decided to go to the corner convenience store for ice cream. She was killed in a robbery. When I got home, there were two policemen waiting on my doorstep.” He related it as if he were reading from a newspaper article.
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You must have been devastated. What did you do?”
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I quit school, and drank for about two years, feeling sorry for myself. I thought I had exactly what I needed: money, a beautiful wife, a future. I took it for granted that everything would work out. This was how my life was supposed to be. Bad things weren’t supposed to happen to me. Finally, my dad got tired of waiting for me to sober up. He gave me an ultimatum. Either I enter rehab, get sober, and learn to cope with my loss, or he would cut me off completely. I was angry, but I believed him. Dad never threatened. I knew I couldn’t support myself, and I wasn’t so far gone that I was willing to live on the streets, so I agreed.
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At first I just did what was required. I went through the motions. I quit drinking. I sat in the therapy sessions, listening to other people tell about their sorry, worthless lives, thinking how superior I was. Eventually, the therapist insisted that I participate. When I told my story, it was the reaction of the other inmates that finally got to me. Instead of being sympathetic to my tragedy, they were scornful. I had everything handed to me, and when something went wrong, I went off the deep end. Most of these people had coped with loss over and over again, sliding into drugs and alcohol only after it became overwhelming, when it seemed they had no hope of ever realizing any kind of happiness. They laughed at my weakness, and made me see what a spoiled, useless person I had become. When I finally left, I knew I couldn’t go back to my old life, so I moved to Las Vegas and entered the police academy.” He sat quietly waiting for my response.
What could I say? I wanted to tell him how impressed I was, but I knew he wasn’t looking for compliments. Now I understood his lack of response after my story. Not finding an adequate verbal response, I turned and kissed him. We stayed locked in each other’s arms until Mom came home. Then Delgado went home and I went to bed.
***
The next day I persuaded Mom to take me to get the rental car the insurance agency had arranged for me to use. They’d declared my car totaled, but said it would be a couple of days before they could cut a check. Mom had a luncheon to cater, which meant she wouldn‘t be home waiting for me to check in. I knew I couldn’t spend another day on the couch, so I stopped by the office. Since it was Friday, there was no point in my trying to work. I was pretty sure Charlene wouldn’t allow it even if I wanted to. I just wanted to stop by and be around people again.
Charlene hugged me. “What are you doing here? I hope you don’t think you’re coming back to work yet.”
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Relax. I just stopped by on my way home from picking up the rental car. How’s everything going?”
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I told you we’re doing fine. There’s no need for you to come in. Mike is doing a great job of holding down both the training manager job, and his new responsibilities as Labor Relations Manager.”
Everyone came up and asked how I was, expressing their sympathy for the accident. I spent a few minutes talking to each of them, but could see that most of them were too busy to talk, so I wandered down to the security office, hoping to have a chance to speak to Alan alone.
Resorts don’t spend a lot of money on areas the public never sees. The security office, located at the end of a bare hallway in the basement, was small and dark. I probably should have called ahead. I knew he didn’t spend much time in his office. However, I got lucky. His secretary said he was in, but on the phone. I waited in the reception area, which consisted of a couple of chairs in front of her desk. I could picture Alan at his desk, which takes up most of the space in his office. File Cabinets lined one wall. On the wall behind his desk hang a number of diplomas and pictures of him receiving award certificates from various city officials. When he was off the phone, she went into his office and told him I was waiting.
He came out, slipping back into his jacket. “Let’s go get some coffee,” was his way of saying he didn’t want to talk in his office.
I followed him down the hallway and back up the stairs to the casino floor. The main coffee shop was the closest place to get coffee. The hostess led us to a booth in the back. Once the waitress poured his coffee, and brought me a diet cola, he said, “You look tired. Are you sure you should be out and about yet?”
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I just dropped by after picking up the rental car. About yesterday . . .” I stopped not quite knowing what to say.
Alan looked up from sipping his coffee. “Yeah, the last time we talked, you told me the detective wasn’t even interested in you. He seemed interested yesterday. What . . . he rescues you, so you reward him by sleeping with him?”
I was stunned. He was supposed to be my friend and this was what he thought of me? In a quiet voice I said, “I thought you knew me better than that. I am not sleeping with Delgado.”
As I gathered up my purse to leave, he reached out his hand to stop me. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. What am I supposed to think? He walks into your Mom’s house as if he owns it and you. What exactly is your relationship with him?”
His accusation hurt, but considering my behavior lately, I did own him an explanation. I sat back down. “He knew Mom was expecting him. She had to work and didn’t want to leave me alone. Before I left the hospital, she arranged for him to come by and stay with me while she was gone. As for the relationship between us, I won’t lie to you, there is something there. I guess you could say we’re dating, although under the circumstances, it’s been a little unconventional.”
Quietly he asked, “Where does that leave us?”
I sighed. “The same place as always, friends and colleagues. Nothing has changed. You and I have dated other people for years. It’s never affected our friendship.” I hoped that was true.
He leaned forward. “I thought I’d made it clear that I’d like to be more than friends.”
I looked down. “You know that’s not possible.”
He waited until I looked back up at him. “Because of our jobs?”
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Yes, because of our jobs.”
He nodded then changed the subject. “I’m really sorry about your accident. I came by your office Monday night, but you’d already left. Maybe if I’d walked you to your car, I would’ve noticed the brake fluid.”
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I keep wondering who hates me bad enough to want to hurt me. Detective Long thinks it was done as a warning of some kind.”
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He mentioned that when we went back over the garage surveillance tapes. We specifically looked for Arnie Waters, Martin Sanders, and Darryl Collins, but we didn’t see any of them entering the garage. Your car was just out of the line of sight of the camera. It couldn’t have caught the culprit actually slicing the lines, but we were hoping to at least find someone entering the garage area.” His phone rang summoning him back to work. I signed the check and returned to HR.
When I got back to the office, Mike asked to speak to me. I said sure, and followed him into his office. He shut the door behind us. “How are you feeling?”
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A little sore, but I’ll live.”
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I found something I think you should see.” He handed me a copy of an email from me to Monica, telling her to destroy her files on the sexual harassment claim against Arnie Waters. It was dated the day before she was killed.
I couldn‘t believe what I was reading. “Where did you get this? I didn’t send it. I’ve never seen it before. I didn’t know there was a claim until recently.”
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I know. It’s not something you would do. Monica had it saved in a password-protected folder on her computer. I was going through everything as you asked me. When I ran across the folder, I asked IT to help me get in. They verified it was sent from your computer and then deleted. She must have sent it to herself, trying to set you up.”
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Well that explains why she was in my office. Who else knows about this?”
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No one. What do you want me to do with it?”
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You need to take it to Mr. Augustino and explain how you found it. Also you need to give a copy of it to the police.”
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Shouldn’t you take it to Mr. Augustino so you can explain that you didn’t write it?”