LETHAL OBSESSION (3 page)

      Gene
handed her a chilled glass and took a seat on the couch.  Ellen sipped and
smiled. It was really tasty.  "Wow, you'll have to share this
recipe."  She held up her glass.  "So tell me about yourself, Gene. 
How have you come to know these back roads so well, you can navigate them in a
pea soup fog in the middle of the night?"               

      "Well,
that's a good story."                                     

      Gene
began talking.  He told stories about his childhood, growing up as a moon
shiner's son in the Tennessee hills. As a teen he had to learn every road and
how to navigate them in the pitch dark with no head lights.

      He
talked about his short stint in the Marine Corps and humorous stories involving
his fellow marines. Noticing Ellen's rapt attention he warmed to his subject. 
Embellishing wild tales of being chased down treacherous mountain roads,
bottles of white liquor clinking and sloshing in the back of his pickup, Gene
kept talking.  He wanted her to forget about the tragedy of losing her husband.
Her sorrow was killing him. Gene ached to be showered in the brilliance of that
beautiful smile. He had known a lot of women in his life but this one was
special.  Granted Ellen was a beauty but it was more than that.  She possessed
something that glowed from within.  Gene had never met anyone quite like her.

      The
only thing he didn’t talk about was his wife Martha. He was relieved to see
Ellen was no longer crying or trembling. Some color had returned to her face
and he thought she was more exquisite than ever. 

      When
Ellen began to nod off in sleep, Gene managed to talk her into lying on the
couch.  He covered her with a quilt and sat on the floor next to her.  He
continued to talk in a soft low voice.  As her eyes closed and her breathing
grew even, his head bent toward her almost as if an invisible force was urging
him.  Very gently, his warm lips grazed her soft cheek.  She looked so innocent
and child like, Gene found it very hard to break away.  With her emotional
state so fragile, he wanted to stay here all night just watching over her. 

      Looking
at his watch was like a splash of icy water in the face.  Martha was going to
kill him.  Gene had to get home whether he wanted to or not.                                                                                       

CHAPTER FOUR

      All
the lights were on in the house when Gene pulled into the drive.  This was not
a good sign.  It was well after two AM and he couldn't imagine how mad his wife
was going to be.  Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Gene stepped up on
the porch and put his key in the lock.  He heard the sharp footsteps before he
even got the door open and startled as the door was snatched from his grasp. 

      “Gene
Stone, where on earth have you been?  Do you have any idea what time it
is?"

      "Uh..."

      "Never
mind."                                                            

      Gene
shrugged and remained silent.  He knew from past experience that trying to
explain was a total waste of effort.  Martha's voice was shrill and angry.   

      “I’ve
been waiting dinner since five.  It's ruined and I  threw it in the trash.
We’ve missed Bible study and I don’t know what in the world I’m going to tell
the Reverend Bob. You promised, remember?  You could’ve at least had the
decency to call me.”             

      She
dogged his steps as Gene made his way into the living room.  Yeah he probably
should've called but what the hell.  He didn't.  Martha would've just found
something else to hound him about.

Gene
allowed her voice to roll off his back. Damn nagging woman, he should be used
to it by now.  From Ellen's magnificent chalet to his own home, what a world of
difference.  Gene wanted to be back there with her.

      Working
hard at a placating smile, he said, “sorry Baby, it couldn’t be helped.  A
private jet went down up around the Asheville airport.  I was out in the field helping
the...uh... family.”               

Gene
headed for his favorite recliner and sat, hoping Martha would get distracted
and leave him in peace.  Shaking out the evening paper, he held it in front of
him, but having some quiet time to himself was not going to happen.  Martha put
her hands on her hips and stood directly in front of his chair. Her face was
pinched and Gene groaned inside.                     

      "Are
you listening to me, Gene Stone?  She slapped at the paper. "I'm sorry for
that family.  I will say a prayer for them in church, but I don't see why it is
always you that has to go.”

      “Yes,
Dear,” he nodded while turning a page. “What can I say?  I’m sorry. It was
department business and I'm head of that department.  I would've called if I
could but I was simply not able."

      "You
have a cell phone."

      "I
was out of range," he lied.

      The
news blurred before his eyes.  Gene's mind was back there on Ellen's couch.  Something
about her had him mesmerized. He felt as excited as a boy experiencing love for
the first time. Gene couldn't get his mind on anything else.  His body, alive from
the feel of her, he simply could not drive Ellen from his thoughts.  She had
cried so much on the drive back it broke his heart.  But then she came into his
arms and allowed him to comfort her.  It was an indescribable feeling.  Gene
smiled.  He could still feel how her body snuggled against him with that
fragrant honey hair spread over his arms. 

      A
small hand swatted his shoulder, shattering the sensuous daydream. Martha's
voice was piqued. “Well, I’d like to know what you find so amusing about this.
You’d best wipe that smirk off your face, Mister Stone.”

      Gene
looked up as if seeing his wife for the first time. Martha's short hair showed
streaks of gray.  Bearing a son had thickened her waist. There was a time when
he couldn't keep his hands off her but that was eons ago.  

      Martha
was a fine woman, the mother of his only son.  He couldn’t imagine a life
without her and he knew that in his own way he would always love her. Martha
gave his life respectability, a reality that was sadly lacking in his youth. The
townspeople looked up to him as their elected sheriff.  Gene had standing in
the First Baptist Church. But the sizzling passion between them died years
ago.  Now he stayed because it was expected of him as a pillar of the
community.

      Gene
and Martha had been high school sweethearts. Right before graduation she
tearfully confronted him one night with the news.  It was a night that would
burn in his memory forever.  At the tender age of seventeen, Gene Stone was
going to be a father. 

      He
often wondered about the bond between them.  Had he married her for love and
not at the end of a shotgun, would he love her more?  Would he have been
satisfied in a monogamous marriage? 

His
son Eugene, now in college was the light of his life.  But lately when he came
home late like tonight, there was judgment in his son's eyes.  Father and son
were drifting apart and that broke his heart.

Gene
had amused himself with more women than he could count. After all, he reasoned,
a man needed that sort of thing so it wasn't really wrong.  If Martha knew of
his indiscretions she never let on.  If he was seen, most people knew to keep
their mouths shut. 

      Sheriff
Stone was a powerful influence and nobody dared to cross him.  On some
occasions he was forced to do some fancy tap dancing to keep his secret life
from blowing up in his face.  Tonight just might be one of those occasions. With
that thought in mind, Gene was painfully brought back to his present dilemma. 
Keeping his wife happy meant keeping her out of his business.

      Gene
sighed, put the paper aside and stood up. He reached out his arms and gathered Martha
close to his chest.  He smiled feeling her body relax against him.  “I’m sorry,
Martha.  I realize I should’ve called you, but...I had an emergency and I’m
sure you understand. Hey Baby, you know how much I love you.”  Gene placed a
gentle hand on her chin, tilting her face for a soft lingering kiss.       

      Martha
gazed into his eyes with love. “I married you in the eyes of the Lord for
better or for worse.  I’ll try and be more understanding, Sweetheart. I want to
be a good wife to you.

      "You
are a good wife to me, Baby.  You always have been."

      "I
know you must be hungry.  Tell me what you’d like and I’ll go fix it.”     

      Gene
smiled, pleased with himself.  "Martha, you're the best wife any man could
ever have.  I'll tell you what I'm hungry for, and that's you my sweet girl. 
Let's go to bed."

      Ellen
awoke with a start when she heard Juanita come in.  Like an avalanche, the
previous night crashed in around her.  Her bandaged right hand throbbed with
pain. Her left hand was unscathed as she held out her fingers revealing Mark's
wedding band, clustered together with her own.  Ellen stared at it with
blurred, watery vision.  This was the beginning.  A painful, lonely life
stretching to infinity awaited her. 

      Ellen
wondered what time Gene left.  It had been very late and he was so wonderful to
help and stay with her. Sobbing on his shoulder and falling asleep in his arms
was so blatantly inappropriate she couldn't believe it happened.  How could she
have done something like that, been so intimate with a virtual stranger?  If
Gene had any sense, he would stay well away from her.                                                    But
Ellen had to admit that without him, she never would've found the crash site
much less gotten into it.  Thanks to Gene she was able to give closure.  Thanks
to Gene she had Mark's precious wedding ring.  Ellen owed this man.  If she
ever got the chance again, he would be thanked properly.

      Her
skin was itchy and stinging from a thousand blackberry cane scratches and
insect bites.  Juanita probably saw her on the couch and chose not to disturb
her.

      "Hi
Juanita, I guess you noticed I slept on the couch last night."

      "Oh
Senora, I so worry for you."

      "I'm
fine, don't worry, but I do need a shower.  Will you fix me some of your
luscious blueberry muffins?"

      "Yes
Ma'am.  Right away, Senora."

      Gene
turned over and looked at the clock.  Five fifteen.  Martha was sound asleep,
snuggled against him.  He didn't want to wake her so he untangled himself
carefully. Getting out of bed, he stood in front of the picture window. Dawn
was just breaking, coloring the hills the deepest of purple.  His mind was so
full of Ellen he still couldn't focus on anything else.  He wondered how she
made it through the night and hoped finding herself alone wasn’t too
devastating.  He would've given anything to be able to stay with her.  All Gene
could think about was comforting Ellen.  Going back to sleep was not going to
happen now so he might as well get ready to face the day.

      Gene
walked into the kitchen to put the coffee on.  He knew there would be a phone
call to Mrs. Anderson sometime today.  The strange nervousness in his stomach
surprised him.  A woman has never affected him quite like this and that was a
bit unnerving. In the past he always had the upper hand.  It was the women who
were nervous about him.  Excitement had Gene anxious to get to the telephone in
the privacy of his office.

      "Senora,
phone is for you." Juanita called up the stairs.

      "Who
is it?"  Ellen had just stepped out of the shower and was towel drying her
hair.

      "It
some man, Senora."

      A
man?  Ellen knitted her brows.  She picked up the bedroom phone.  "This is
Mrs. Anderson."

      "Hello
Mrs. Anderson.  This is Sheriff Stone."

      "Oh...hi."

      "You
had a rough go of it last night and I've been concerned about you.  How's the arm?"

      "It's
stinging a bit but I'm fine.  Sheriff Stone..."

      "Gene,
remember?"

      "Gene,
I never got a chance to thank you for everything you did for me last
night."

      "I
was glad to be able to help.  You've been through a lot."

      "Well,
you took a risk for me that you didn't have to take.  Because of you I found
Mark's ring and shirt.  I just don't know how I can repay you."

      "That's
really not necessary but I would like to see you from time to time, just to
know you're doing okay."

      "Do
you like blueberry muffins?"

      "They're
my favorite."

      "Juanita
is making a batch.  Would you like to come over for some breakfast?"

      "I
can be there in ten minutes."

      Ellen
hung up the phone puzzled at herself.  Why did she do that?  Ten minutes? 
Crap!  She threw off the terry robe and rummaged through the closet.                                             

      The
door bell rang just as she finished blow drying her hair.  Ellen had pulled on
a scoop neck jersey shirt and jeans.  She peered in the mirror wondering why
her choice of wardrobe was important.  She was in her own home and could dress
any way she wanted.

      It's
true Ellen owed Gene for getting her to the crash site but she didn't expect
him to call and drop by the very next day.

      This
was probably a one-time thing anyway.  She shouldn't let it concern her.

      Ellen
descended the stairs and joined him in the breakfast nook.  "Good morning,
Gene."