Bill looked up from his notepad and said in the most comforting voice he could manage, “Frank, now you know what you said that day. We would never talk about this to anyone. We all have too much to lose Frank. You’ve got to get a grip man. And for God’s sake please take your meds.”
Frank sat back down a little calmer.
Bill pulled a prescription pad out of his desk drawer and wrote Frank a new script. “I’m prescribing you another medication. It’s a little stronger. But promise me you’ll stay on your medication.”
Frank reluctantly said, “Okay, okay, Bill, I promise. I’ve got to get better."
Frank left Bill’s office somewhat relieved and with his prescription for the new medication. He had a new determination to get better, but in the back of his mind he still felt telling the truth was the only thing that was going to save him from the demons.
After he was gone Bill got on the telephone, called all the members and arranged for an emergency meeting of the group at a downtown watering hole.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MEETING
Around nine that same night the group huddled in the back corner of “Dick’s” restaurant and bar. As they took their seats all eyes were on Bill. In attendance was Rick Sanchez, Willie Reynolds, Fred Sanders and Steve Rollins. They noticed Frank was conspicuously missing. and since Frank was their leader, the whole meeting immediately took on a suspicious tone.
Willie Reynolds started the conversation. “What the hell is this meeting all about Bill? And where is Frank?”
Fred Sanders echoed his question, “Yeah, where the hell is Frank?”
Bill held up his hand and replied, “I’m going to get to all that in a minute.”
They ordered drinks and food all around, after they were settled in Bill started. “I know Frank is our friend and founder, but I’m starting to have doubts about him. He was on my couch today and I’m telling you, he’s going to cave. He’s convinced the only way he can rid himself of the demons in his head is to tell the truth. We’ve got too much to lose. We’ve got to do something about him.”
Rick Sanchez said excitedly, You’re the one whose supposed to be keeping a handle on him Bill. After all you are his shrink.”
Steve Rollins asked curiously, “What do you mean, do something about him. What can we do?”
Bill replied dryly, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m too damn old to be doing CHL in Leavenworth behind this shit.”
The consensus of the group was Bill was right. But they couldn’t see harming Frank in any way. He was too good a friend even if he was living on shaky ground.
Fred Sanders weighed in, “You could have him committed. If he were in the nuthouse, then nobody would believe his story. The shit happened over twenty five years ago.”
Bill brought everyone back to reality. “It was still murder. It was a war crime for Christ sake. We can still go down for it. I’m not going out like that, I don’t know about you guys. Besides, Maria would never agree to have Frank committed.”
Everyone agreed something needed to be done, but what was the big question. They adjourned the meeting without making a decision.
CHAPTER SIX
FRANK AND JENNIFER
Frank had left Bill’s office around two in the afternoon with a emptiness and a need for compassion. He had been secretly seeing Jennifer Kingsley, a secretary that worked in his office for another one of the brokers, Sam Knight. He gave his good friend and co-worker a call. “Hey Sam, what’s up?” Frank asked, not really caring but trying to be polite. “I need a big favor this afternoon. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Frank, dude. I’m really getting tired of arranging your rendezvous’ with Jennifer. You’re way out of line on this thing. You know her husband Buster is one psycho son of a bitch. You better leave that girl alone, Frank.” Sam pleaded but Frank didn’t want to hear it.
“Come on Sam. I need to see her this afternoon. Help me out here.”
“All right, but I’m really getting tired of this shit.”
Jennifer managed to slip away and met Frank at the Travel Lodge in Chula Vista. As they lay in each other's arms, she said she needed to talk to him about something important. Frank kissed her again and ran his hand between her thighs. “More important than this?" Frank said in his sexiest voice.
"This is important, Frank, “ Jennifer said almost peeved.
“Okay, I’m all ears,” Frank said rolling over on his side, propping himself up on his right arm.
“Buster’s starting to get suspicious. It’s getting harder and harder to get away. I think we’re going to have to cool it for a while, baby," Jennifer said.
Frank answered, “We’ll figure out a way Jen, we always have. Fuck Buster. I’m not afraid of your piece of shit husband. I’m an ex-marine. I’ve been through shit you couldn’t even imagine. Buster needs to worry about me.”
Jennifer reminded Frank, “Buster is a badass mother fucker Frank. I’m telling you, he’s dangerous. You don’t even want him pissed off at you. We’ve just got to cool it. Just for a little while, baby.”
Frank relented, “All right, I guess you’re right. But for how long?”
Jennifer replied, “Not for long. We’ll see.
They made love one last time, not knowing how long it might be until they would see each other again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARIA
Waiting frantically for Frank to come home that night, and upset he hadn’t showed up after his appointment with Bill, Maria had called Bill’s office. “Bill, is Frank still there?”
“No, he left hours ago. Something wrong?” Bill inquired trying to act concerned.
“He never came home. I was just wondering where he was, that’s all.”
She paced the floor knowing in her heart Frank was with another woman. “That bastard’s with some slut, I just know it. Why do I put up with his shit? I’m going to kill him if I find out he’s cheating again.”
Maria took a gallon of butter pecan ice cream out of the freezer and began to devour its contents. Nothing soothed her nerves like gorging herself on a frozen sweet treat. It didn’t take long until she was staring at the bottom of an empty carton, thinking about starting on another one, when she heard Frank‘s key in the door. She looked at the kitchen clock, it was 8.
The innocent look on his face really set off her rage and she was on him as soon as he walked in the door. “Where the hell have you been, Frank? I called Bill’s office, he said you left at two. What’s her name? I know you’ve been with some bitch.” She threw the empty ice cream container at him, she missed, it rolled on the floor with a hollow sound.
Frank pushed her back and said in his defense, “Hold on, hold on, Maria. I stopped by the office to do some work. I’m sorry, I should have called.”
Maria yelled, “That’s bullshit Frank. How long do I have to go on putting up with this shit?”
Frank said almost pleading, “You’ve got to believe me. I was at the office, I swear. After all these years and you still don’t trust me.”
Maria said sobbing, “You better not be lying. If I find out you’re cheating again, I don’t know what I might do.” Maria dashed out of the living room and went in the bedroom, shutting the door with a loud slam.
Frank grabbed his car keys and headed out of the front door, jumped in his car, pulled out of his driveway with a screech and drove away.
Maria, pissed as hell, called her friend Susan Mize, not able to bear the burden of the drama with Frank on her own shoulders. She’d been there before many times, but that still didn’t make it any easier. She cussed to herself as she waited for Susan to pick up the phone. “Hello, Susan,” she said holding back the tears. "Maria," Susan replied somewhat surprised, “are you okay?”
Proceeding to tell her what had happened between her and Frank, she described him as the biggest bastard that had ever walked the face of the earth. She said things that should have never been said. The bad th
ing was she meant every word. “I should kill that bastard. He’s worth more dead than he is alive anyway.”
Susan tried her best to console Maria and to calm her down, but it just didn’t happen.. “Now Maria, you’re just upset, you don’t mean all those things. Frank isn’t that bad now. He can be a prick sometimes but good husbands are hard to come by.”
Maria insisted she wanted him dead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Buster
Buster Kingsley, Jennifer’s husband, a once handsome man whose rugged good looks had been eroded by years of alcohol and drug abuse, sat on an old dirty worn couch, smoking cigarettes, drinking beer, and throwing the empties on the floor. He was wearing the same old dirty shorts and Charger’s t-shirt he had worn the day before when he sat on the couch doing the same thing. “Where is this bitch, I’m hungry as hell. No account whore, I don’t even know why I married that cunt,” Buster slurred as he drained the contents of another beer and added it to the pile already on the floor
Jennifer slowly turned her key in the lock and entered the apartment expecting the worst. The stench of stale beer and putrid cigarette smoke almost knocked her down as she came in and tried to ease across the room without altercation.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Buster inquired not really waiting for a reply. “Fix, me something to eat, bitch.” He said, pulling up his shirt and rubbing his stomach. “I’m hungry as hell.”
“Get the hell off of me, Buster,” she snapped. “I just walked in the fucking door.” She tried to get to the table to put down her purse and keys but Buster wasn’t having it.
“I said where the fuck have you been?” Buster asked again. He shoved Jennifer and pinned her up against the door. He blocked her path momentarily but finally let her pass.
“I told you my mom is sick, I’ve been taking care of her,” Jennifer answered. “Smells like you already drank your dinner. Besides, you’ve been here all day not doing shit, fix your own dinner.”
“You know you’re right, I’ve already had dinner,” Buster said rubbing his crotch. “But now I want some dessert.” He tried to kiss Jennifer but she pulled away.
“Give me a break. You probably couldn’t even get it up you pathetic limp dick fuck. I don’t know what the hell I ever wanted with a loser like you,” Jennifer said up in Buster’s face.
He pushed her back. “You been fucking somebody haven’t you? If I find out who it is, he’s a dead man. I told you before, if I can’t have you, nobody’s gonna have you.”
Jennifer pushed by him and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
CHAPTER NINE
Frank
Frank eventually returned home Sunday night after he cooled down, Jennifer was asleep, so Frank slept downstairs on the couch. He knew she was really pissed this time. “Screw her,” he thought, “she’ll get over it, she always does.”
Monday morning arrived all too soon and Frank had to go to the office. He really needed a shower so he crept into his bedroom. Maria was still asleep, thank God. He took a quick one, shaved, put on a clean shirt, and grabbed a suit and tie out of the closet. Maria was still dead to the world. Frank gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. After all he did still love her and always would. True he was a bastard, who couldn’t leave the ladies alone, but he always came home to her.
Maria stirred a little, turned over, but remained asleep. Frank snatched his car keys off the dresser and headed for the door.
Frank eased into his late model Mercedes, cranked up the engine, and pulled out of his drive. A retro rock station blared an old tune from the Vietnam War era, hurling him instantly back to those days. A flashback blinded him, he swerved and almost hit an oncoming car. He pulled to the side of the road, sweating like he had just came from a workout at the gym, gasped for air, face white as a sheet.
He sat there for a few minutes trying to catch his breath. The weight of the whole world pressed down on him and for a moment Frank thought he was losing his mind entirely. He spoke to himself hoarsely, “Get a grip, Frank. You’ve got to get a grip. It’s gonna be all right, just stay on your meds.” Frank said it, but deep down he didn’t believe it, not for a minute.
Feeling better, he pulled back out in traffic and continued his sojourn to his office. It was going to be a good day, it would all work out, Frank had to believe that or he couldn’t go on. He pulled into the parking garage and into his assigned parking space.
As he walked into the office his ole buddy Sam Knight had already started the weekly sales meeting. Frank grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk, waiting for his turn to speak. Things were going well, sales were booming and the franchise’s listings were growing by leaps and bounds.
Jennifer came out of the back office to make some copies, Frank noticed that she had cuts and bruises on her face. He stared at her intensely, but couldn’t say anything. Their relationship was a secret at the office, only Sam knew, or so Frank thought. “That bastard,” Frank said to himself. “I should kick that Buster’s ass, see how he likes it.” His mind was a million miles away when Sam finished up and it was Frank’s turn to speak.
“Frank. Frank!” Sam said in an attempt to get his attention. “Frank!!”
Finally coming back to reality from his daydream he mumbled, “Sorry, Sam.”
Frank made a rousing talk about how great everyone was doing and how proud he was of all of them. After a few minutes the meeting broke up. Frank couldn’t really concentrate, he had to talk to Jennifer to find out what had happened
Peeking in the back office Frank motioned at Jennifer giving her the signal he wanted to talk to her. She knew where to meet him, a coffee shop around the corner, a place they always met to talk away from prying ears and eyes.
They sat in a booth way back in the corner and spoke in hushed tones. Frank was pissed as hell, but tried hard to maintain his composure. The thought of that bastard Buster touching Jennifer, using her beautiful face as a punching bag, was almost more than Frank could bare. “He‘s going to kill you, Jennifer. You’ve got to leave him. I can’t stand seeing you like this, “ Frank spoke angrily, but quietly.
“Now, now Frank, calm down. I can take it. Don’t go and do anything crazy. You don’t know him. He’ll kill me if I try to leave him. He’ll kill you too. You don’t know him.” Jennifer held Frank’s hand as she spoke, tears in her blue eyes. “He knows I’m seeing someone. He might not know who, but he knows. We can’t see each other for a while, Frank. You better watch yourself.”
Frank calmed down a little, waved the waitress over to order them some coffee. “Okay, we’ll cool it for a while, but you watch yourself. I love you Jennifer, but I can‘t leave Maria.”
“I know Frank, “ Jennifer conceited. She got up and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Frank sitting, looking hurt, feeling hurt.
A few minutes later, Frank finished up his coffee, went to the cash register and paid his bill.
Frank waited at the intersection for the light to change so he could cross the busy street. His mind was miles away, thinking about Jennifer, Maria, and getting something to eat, he was hungry as hell. His stomach rumbled, needing to be satisfied with his favorite burger. He hummed to himself and watched a fine lady stroll by in a short skirt, walking an ugly dog. A man in a dirty trench coat bumped into him and walked on without saying a word. How rude, Frank thought and cussed at him under his breath
A car was parked down the street, the driver waited patiently for Frank to cross the intersection
The light turned and Frank started across the street.
Screeching out of the parking spot the car headed straight for Frank who was now in the middle of the intersection. The mass of metal smashed into his mortal frame, he careened in the air, and landed ten yards away from the intersection in a bloody, broken heap.
The driver left the scene tires squealing, smoke filled the air, then there was silence for a moment. That silence was broken by the screams of the other pedestrians, who n
arrowly missed the same fate as Frank.
A crowd of people materialized as out of nowhere and hovered over Frank, all wondering what in the hell had just happened, but not seeing a damn thing. They all stood transfixed, as in a trance, mouths gaping open, motionless.
Someone finally yelled, “Somebody call 911.” Then a mighty roar came from the crowd, as if suddenly they had come back from the dead.
The ambulance finally showed up, siren blaring, tires screeching. The paramedics jumped out of the ambulance and ran to where Frank was laying lifeless in the street. They took his vital signs, secured him to a stretcher, and loaded him into the back. It left for the hospital, roaring down the street with Frank’s life in their hands.
Pulling into the lot of Scripps Memorial Hospital almost on two wheels, the ambulance stopped on a dime, the paramedics bailed out like the vehicle was on fire. They opened up the back doors holding their precious cargo, by then the emergency room personnel were out in full force, working on Frank as they snatched his almost lifeless body out. The double doors of the emergency room flew open and they were in, racing down the passageway to a waiting OR.
Frank was still breathing, but just barely. He was fighting to hold on as the doctors all but threw him on the operating table and hooked him up. His pulse was faint, blood pressure almost non-existent. “Clear”, a doctor yelled as he shocked Frank’s heart. Flat line, non responsive. “Clear,” the doctor called again. This time they got a pulse, a faint one but building, it slowly acquired speed and strength.
The murderer speeded down the street, thinking that their mission had been accomplished. They parked the rolling full metal jacket, got out, and disappeared unseen by anyone.
Meanwhile back at the scene of the crime the crowd was animated, everyone talking about what they saw or didn’t see. Uniformed police were scouting the group looking for witnesses without much success.