A REALLY BAD DAY
JOE BOB NEWMAN
A REALLY BAD DAY
Copyright 2016 © Joe Bob Newman
Cover Design by: Laura Shinn
Edited by: Nick F. Bowman
License Notes:
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Written, Printed and Published in the USA.
A REALLY BAD DAY
Other Books by Joe Bob Newman:
The Craft (Science Fiction)
When Time Stood Still (Science Fiction)
Phantom Canyon (Western)
The Rig (Action/Romance)
The Executive (Action/Romance)
Cabin Fever (Action/Romance)
Cabin Cruiser (Action/Romance)
One for the heart (Action/Romance)
Mystic Moon Man (Action/Adventure)
Lady Texas Ranger (History/Action)
The Alamo (History)
Texas Football: The Lone Star of Texas (Sports)
In The Dark of The Night (Suspense)
Bad Decision (Suspense/Mystery)
The Old Bull (Action/Adventure)
CIA - The Slave Traders (Suspense/Action)
A REALLY BAD DAY
I had really had a hard day at the office. My job was writing government proposal documents, which I knew that I was very good at. I had a team of five people who worked for me. We worked for a defense contracting company that provided technical and editorial expertise to other companies that manufactured military and civilian equipment. We were highly specialized in Specification responses as well as Interface and Test Procedure documents. Writing documents or editing them was our “bread and butter.”
At five o’clock I walked outside the front door to find—nothing. My wife wasn’t there to pick me up. I called our house phone and her cell phone and got—nothing. Needless to say, I was angry. Where the hell was she? Normally she picked me up on her way home from Dallas; she worked at a Fortune 500 company and got off at four-thirty. She always called me if she was going to be late. This was not like Marilyn. We had to pick up the kids by six. If we didn’t we were charged a hefty fee. I was incensed, but was impotent.
This was a first. My wife had never completely forgotten about me before. I watched all the first shift people leave. Most were in a hurry to get home, and ignored me. Some spoke to me when they went by. There were two hundred people that worked on the first shift at my company. I knew the great majority of them by their first name. I, at least, nodded at the others.
I turned down several offers to take me home, as I knew that Marilyn would be along shortly. This was new territory, her not picking me up and not calling. How could she be so stupid? Wow, I was already calling her names. I needed to calm down. I wasn’t sure if it helped, but I began counting the minutes as they ticked by. At times like these, the clock moves so very slowly.
At five minutes to six, I thought about calling the day care where our two children were kept, but for some reason I didn’t. I was going to let Marilyn deal with it; this was all her fault anyway.
At six p.m., I was as angry as I could let myself get. We were late picking up the kids now and were going to be charged the fee of one dollar for every minute that went by. I was going to wring her neck when she showed up. I tried both phones again and got the same thing, nothing. A very cold knot sprang up in my stomach. Was it fear or anger? I continued to watch the clock’s second hand dip downward.
It was now six-thirty and I was sitting by the security guard watching out the large plate glass windows. It seemed that everyone that I worked with was gone, and I was left alone to some sort of fate. I had gone from angry to being afraid. Had she been in a serious accident? Maybe she was in a hospital somewhere hovering near death. I was certain that something must have happened to her; she wouldn’t do this to me on a whim. I said a simple prayer for Marilyn but wasn’t quite sure what to pray for.
It was a quarter to seven when my cell phone rang. I answered, “Honey, are you all right?”
A man’s voice said, “Hold on, Brandon. My name is Salva. Marilyn is fine; she is just stressed out. I have picked up your kids and taken them home. I will take care of them. If you like I will come get you.”
I shook my head like the man could see me. “I will catch a taxi home. Where is Marilyn and just who are you?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know where Marilyn is, but I am her best friend, and before you ask, there is nothing going on between us.”
I said, “I will be home in thirty minutes. Can you stay with my kids?”
Salva said, “I can stay as long as you need me. I will get something for dinner; the kids are hungry.”
I hung up and the security guard handed me a phone number and I called for a taxi. On the way home, my mind was whirring. Marilyn was twenty-six and I was twenty-eight. Our children were Johnny, who was two, and Rachael, who was seven. We had been married for eight years, ever since Marilyn had gotten out of high school. She had gotten pregnant right away, so we both had to get jobs and forget about college. However, I still had dreams of going to college one day.
The ride home didn’t seem to take long but cost me twenty-two dollars. When I got there, a black Mercedes was sitting in my driveway.
Salva met me at the door. He was a tall, good-looking man, about thirty years old. He was dark-complected and looked very manly. He carried himself well and had on an expensive business suit.
I smiled and shook his hand. “Thank you for getting my kids. You say that you are Marilyn’s best friend; how come I never heard about you?”
Salva motioned to the table and we sat down to pizza. I made sure that Johnny’s pizza was cut up small enough for him to eat it and Salva began to talk.
“Marilyn and I have worked together since she started at the company. We have become wonderful friends. She has told me all about you, and it is a privilege to finally meet you. I know what your questions are. She left at noon today. She and I had an argument when she left. I knew that it wasn’t a good idea for her to leave; she had no place to go. She and her boss Mr. Manguss also argued over something, and she left. I am still not sure if she quit, but I had never seen her so angry.”
I pulled out my phone and began calling her friends. Karen, Shirl, Lana and Sherry had not heard from her. Then I got Elaine. She hesitated right off the bat, so I knew that she was already lying. She said, “Brandon, she is not here. I haven’t seen her.”
I made a face. “Elaine, I am coming over there. If you are lying to me, there will be hell to pay.”
Elaine hung up on me. Elaine was single and had a very high-paying job working in a hospital. She had her own home, and I thought that she would be quite a catch, but she had never married anyone. I knew Elaine quite well and was surprised that I didn’t trust her.
Salva excused himself and left. I loaded the two kids in the car and headed out for Elaine’s. When I got there, the driveway was empty. Marilyn obviously wasn’t there.
I went up to the door and apologized for my behavior and realized that I had made a terrible mistake. I had tipped my hand. I was not a very good detective.
I stood alone in the driveway wondering what to do. This
was new territory for me. Marilyn had always been the perfect wife.
I was driving back home when my phone rang. I got it out of my pocket and looked at the front plate. It was Marilyn.
I said, “Hi, honey. What’s wrong?”
She began to cry. “I quit my job and I went to a bar. I am drunk and don’t know where I am.”
I realized the seriousness of the situation so I said, “Honey, calm down and just tell me where you are.”
“I am at a motel. I am going to spend the night here; I will see you tomorrow. Take care of my babies.” She hung up the phone. I nearly ran into the back of a car because I was staring at my phone like it was the problem.
I pulled over in a parking lot and looked through my recent calls. I found the one that I was looking for and Salva answered on the first ring. “Hello!”
I tried to smile. “Have you heard from Marilyn?”
He was hesitant. Was he lying? “Yes, Brandon, I am on my way to check on her. She made me promise to not tell you where she is. She is fragile, Brandon. I will check on her and call you back.” He hung up his phone.
I looked at my phone again; it wasn’t my friend right now.
I took the kids home and put them in bed. Once they were asleep, I called a friend of mine—no, actually she wasn’t much more than an acquaintance. Sharon was a good-looking blonde;