Collateral Damage Pt. 02

"Can I help you?"

"We'd like to come in and talk with you for a few minutes Mr. Simmons."

"What...what's this about?"

"Can we come in please?"

I suppose a savvy man might have asked for a search warrant but I just dumbly opened the door and let them in without saying anything. They shuffled in quickly and took positions on either side of me, both of them glancing around the room bit and then back at me a couple of times before the tall one started asking more questions.

"OK, Mr. Simmons, really just a couple of questions about last night, if you don't mind..."

"Last night?"

"Yes. Where were you last night?"

"I was...I was here last night...for most of the night. I took my boys out for pizza, but otherwise we hung out here."

"Can you...uh...prove that?"

"Huh?"

"Can you prove you were here last night?"

"Well...I guess you could ask my boys. I still have the receipt for the pizza place, I think."

"Can we see that?"

I went to the closet and rummaged through my coat and managed to find the receipt. I handed it to the tall officer who looked over it for a few minutes and then handed it to the pudgy one who glanced at it, shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head.

"Time says 7:43."

"Yeah. " Tall cop answered as he wrote something in a notebook. I was starting to come out of my daze and became curious again.

"Hey look, what is this...what is this about?"

The cops gave each other a questioning glance and the pudgy one shrugged and nodded his head. Tall cop turned back to me and started talking again.

"There was an assault last night and the victim was beaten up pretty bad. We're just checking into..."

His indication that I was somehow a suspect in a serious crime was so shocking that I couldn't help interrupting.

"Wait...what? I haven't been in a fight since high school. This is some sort of mistaken identity or something. I had..."

Tall cop held up his hand to stop me.

"Look, Mr. Simmons, we have to check out all the leads, OK? It's our job. You're not under arrest; we're just asking some questions."

I spread my hands in acceptance, but I still felt that I'd been involved in some sort of a law enforcement screw-up and had to take a couple of deep breaths to get control of my frustration. When it was clear that I'd calmed down, they asked a few more questions about what I'd done the night before and verified my boys had been with me when they sleepily wandered out into the living room. Seemingly satisfied, they both wrote some things down after which pudgy cop whispered something to tall cop and he turned back to me.

"One more thing Mr. Simmons. Can I take a look at your hands?"

I held my hands out and he looked over both sides briefly and nodded his head.

"Ok. Uh, I'd like to see you forearms, ok?"

Without answering, I pulled the sleeves up to my elbows and displayed my arms to both officers.

"Could you roll your sleeves up a little farther?"

Exasperated, I removed the whole bathrobe and stood before them in my boxer shorts, petulantly spreading my arms and legs out like the Saturday morning suburban version of the Vitruvian man.

"Ok?" I asked.

"OK Mr. Simmons." The tall cop said and then turned to his partner. "Do we need anything else?"

Short cop moved forward and opened up a small notebook as I put my bathrobe back on.

"Yeah, just a couple of more questions I think." He cleared his throat and looked directly at me. "How are things at your place of employment?"

"I'm sorry...what, what do you mean?"

"I mean, what are things like at work? Any issues?"

"Wait, what? Did something happen at work? "

The two cops looked each other for a second and the tall one gave short a small nod, apparently giving the ok to provide me with more information.

"No Mr. Simmons, like I said it happened last night and it wasn't at your place of employment. It was one of your colleagues though."

I was suddenly worried that I'd beaten Devin Tinian up a lot worse than I thought and that he'd decided to turn me in, but I quickly dismissed that as an irrational fear, since I'd busted up Devin almost two week before and they were asking questions and checking evidence in a way that made it clear that they didn't know who'd committed the crime, which wouldn't have been remotely necessary if Devin had fingered me.

I bit my lip and hesitantly asked the question for which the answer I was almost afraid to hear, my voice sounding far more nervous than I would have liked.

"Who...who...uh...is hurt?"

The cops looked at each other again and exchanged another glance. Shorty looked back, caught my eye once more replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"One of the executives in your office. I think you know her. A woman named Teri Lee."

I'm not sure, but I might have gasped a little when he said that and I know for sure that I suddenly developed an annoying twitch in my right hand, that I felt obligated to conceal in my bathrobe pocket. The cop continued on, evidently oblivious to my worsening discomfort.

"She's said to be somewhat...uhm...unpopular with some of the people in your office, including you. Can you shed any light on that? Can you think of anyone in your office that might have disliked her enough to assault her personally?"

I did my best to remain calm and swallowed hard a couple of times while I thought about how to answer the question. Yes, I knew some people that would have liked to hit Teri, plenty of them. But I didn't think any of them would do it. Except for maybe Devin Tinian himself. The words ' I've been trying to figure out how to beat the shit out of her myself without getting pinched', kept playing through my mind. Somehow, though, I didn't have it in me to suggest him as a suspect, and so I just numbly shook my head.

"No one?"

"Well, she wasn't well liked, but nobody that would beat her up." I croaked out.

They asked a couple of more questions, but I don't remember them being of any consequence, and then thanked me for my time and turned to go. As they were leaving, the tall guy turned and looked me directly in the eye for a minute.

"And, listen, Mr. Simmons. If you think of anyone that might have done this, for any reason, you have a duty to inform us. You understand?"

"Sure...sure, I understand." I said, biting my lip nervously as I slowly closed the door after them.

--@--

The office was a hornet's nest of gossip Monday morning. Virtually every person I talked to asked me what I thought about Teri and her gaggle of secretarial sycophants were abruptly stopping conversations and giving me the collective evil eye every time I walked by.

Around noon, the two cops from Saturday showed up and my heart sank, thinking I was going to be embarrassed at work with more questions. But they headed to a group of desks off to the side of my area and asked one of the clerks something and he pointed over to Gabe Prince's desk. I watched as surreptitiously as possible as they asked him some questions and I could see him get agitated off and on during the conversation. Toward the end they said something and he appeared to refuse and they said something again and I saw Gabe reluctantly roll up the sleeves of his shirt and display his forearms to the cops. After that, they took a few notes and asked some of the secretaries some questions before making their way out of the building.

Not a couple of minutes later, Benny Smith, one of the accountants, made his way over to Gabe and talked to him for a couple of minutes and then sauntered carefully over to my desk and slid himself, uninvited, into a chair facing me. He looked at me expectantly, a strange grin on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"So, did you do it?"

"Did I do what?"

"Oh, come on Grant. Are you the one that beat up Teri?"

"Hell no. Is that what everyone thinks?"

"Well, Teri thinks it was you."

"Wait, what? How could she think it was me? And, how...how do you know what she thinks?"

Bernie considered what I'd said for a moment and then leaned forward conspiratorially and began talking in a low voice.

"Look, can I trust you to keep a secret?"

I'm sure I gave him a doubtful look, but I nodded my head.

"I know it's against the rules to...uh...date the staff we supervise, especially in the middle of all this political correct sensitivity training, but I...uh..."

"What?"

"I've been seeing Debbie Perkins for a while, you know? And, she's in pretty tight with Teri."

I did remember that Debbie socialized a lot with Teri and I was more than a little surprised that one of her group would violate the corporate dating rules openly, but then I thought of Devin Tinian's experience with Teri herself and realized I shouldn't be surprised at anything. Bernie had stopped talking, apparently waiting for my reaction. Curious as to what he had to say, I nodded and motioned for him to carry on. He leaned even closer and continued on in an even lower voice.

"So, Debbie's been visiting Teri in the hospital and she's been passing along the scoop to me. I haven't...uh...told anybody anything, but I thought you might like to know what's up."

I leaned back in my chair, still not saying anything and waited.

"So...do you...do you want to know?" He asked with a little impatience.

"Well, yeah, I'd like to know. I mean, if she's accusing me of something I didn't do, I'd like to know why. Is she setting me up or something? Is this a frame up?"

Bernie looked around to see who might be watching and then leaned back toward me.

"No, I don't think so. You see, Teri never did get a look at the guy. She's not saying that it was you, she's just saying that you are likely." It didn't really make sense to me that Teri had no idea who assaulted her and I'm sure my expression reflected that. Bernie paused a minute and then started in again.

"Look, she was coming home on Friday and it was dark, maybe 8 o'clock or so. She'd been doing some shopping or something and was getting some bags out of her trunk when this guy grabbed her from behind and essentially tackled her, face down, onto the ground. He grabbed her hair and rammed her face into the asphalt a couple of times and then wrapped his forearm around her mouth so she couldn't scream. I guess he held her really tight and began ramming his knee into her crotch over and over again and every now and then he smashed the side of her face with his free hand."

Bernie stopped to judge my reaction. From what he was saying, this sounded a lot more like a personal assault than a robbery and I suppose I could see how someone might think I'd have enough motivation to . I motioned for him to go on.

"Anyway, I guess Teri somehow managed to bite his forearm, really good. She claims she bit right through the guy's shirt and got to the point she was sure that she'd broken the skin. But even that didn't stop the guy. In fact, I guess that got him even more pissed and he pulled that arm away and smashed the other side her face a couple of times. Finally, Teri saw some headlights from a car entering the parking lot and the guy got off her and high tailed it away."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not a fucking thing. I guess he didn't even swear when Teri bit his arm. That's one of the reasons the cops figured it might have been someone she knows...you know, he didn't want her to identify the voice or anything."

"And she didn't get a look at him even when he was running away?"

"Not really. I mean she was beat up pretty bad and it was dark. And I guess the dude was wearing the usual bad guy stuff. Dark clothes and he had a ski mask or something on."

I let out a low, long breath, realizing I'd more or less been holding it as I listened to the story. "Wow," was all I could get out.

"So, yeah, the cops asked her who might have it in for her, and she mentioned you right off."

I felt a little panicky when he said that and briefly considered mentioning my suspicions about Devin In order to verify my innocence, but decided to keep my mouth shut instead. I answered him with a voice that I hoped sounded more indignant than nervous.

"Well shit, it wasn't me and the cops must know that. I was with my kids that night and, look." I rolled up my sleeves to show my arms "Nobody has been biting me."

Bernie shrugged as he looked at my arms and then got up to go. "Well, somebody did it, and I think the cops are right if they think it's someone she knows." He smiled and winked enigmatically before returning to his desk.

--@--

I'd found it very, very hard to sleep with all the issues at work, the investigation and, probably most of all, the absence of Rosie. I couldn't get over the fact that she had betrayed me, given herself over to a man in a scheme that was deliberately intended to wound and humiliate me. I recognized that she wasn't an active part of the scheme, that, to some degree, she'd been maneuvered about like a pawn on a chess board, but there was no denying that she'd allowed herself into Devin's arms and more, effectively stabbing me in the back.

Still, I missed her.

I missed her quirky sense of humor, her mischievous smiles and her low throaty laugh that was so incredibly infectious. I missed our conversations, our jokes and her words of encouragement in tough times. I missed her affection, her kisses, and holding her while we watched TV or listened to music or long after we'd both fallen asleep. And, I missed having sex with her.

Tossing about in bed one night, I realized, not unexpectedly, that I was tremendously horny. I pulled up my laptop and looked through a little porn to try and get some inspiration, but somehow my mind kept drifting to experiences I'd had with Rosie.

I remembered our first kiss, taken in the middle of the dance floor during a slow number at a club that catered to college students. As we danced, her body seemed to melt more and more into mine, settling against me like everything she touched was becoming part of her. She claimed my neck with her arms, my chest with her breasts, my growing erection with her soft midsection and, when I pulled back to look at her, I felt she claimed me, as a person, with her clear, unblinking brown eyes and her easy, warm smile. I leaned forward and kissed her, tasting a bit of cherry from her lip gloss and she kissed me back and I realized at that moment I was hers if she wanted me.

I remembered the first time we made love, at a little lodge in northern Wisconsin while the other members of the group we'd come with had gone off to ski. We started to neck under a heavy comforter on one of the bunks, our kisses becoming more and more fervent and our bodies pressing together, rubbing each other sensually through our clothes. My hands started to roam and found their way under her top to cup and press her breasts and then down, below her waistband, slipping under her panties to rub against her soft wet folds and her hard little center. She began breathing deeply, kissing me harder and slowly began to moan. Then her hand slipped under my pants and began returning the favor, pulling and tugging on me until I could barely control myself. Abruptly, I pulled up her shirt, kissing down her chest and her belly until I came to her pants, which I pulled off quickly with some help from her, and then, nearly ripped her panties off. I planted my mouth on her wetness and licked and sucked and pressed my lips against her until her back arched, announcing her orgasm in long, low, satisfied moans. Then, almost without thought, I pulled off my clothes, took her in my arms and slowly entered her, my eyes locked to her the whole time. She was wet and tight and I'd never felt anything quite like the mix of physical pleasure and emotional fulfillment before. By the time we'd finished, I was completely and utterly spent and we fell asleep in each other's arms, covered only by the comforter, not caring in the slightest who might discover us.

I remembered our honeymoon, a week of balmy weather at a rundown hotel on a beach in Florida. There were days baking in the sun and nights enthusiastically making love, coupling our sweaty bodies against each other, oblivious of the poor accommodations, the inadequate little bed or the sub-par air conditioning. It seems like we tried every position and explored every part of each other's bodies, discovering different, sometimes unexpected erogenous zones with every new session. Sometimes we made love gently, languidly and other times we simply attacked each other, impossibly impassioned, nearly desperate to achieve and deliver orgasms. I particularly remembered our last night there spent on a towel, under the moonlight on the empty beach, the sounds of the waves softly breaking in the background while we wordlessly, earnestly, communicated our love and affection with touch and taste and sweat and smell .

As I completed that last thought, I suddenly and almost unexpectedly, felt a strange, melancholy orgasm wash over me, realizing that I'd been nearly on the verge of tears as I stroked myself while reminiscing about Rosie.

I rolled over and went to sleep, thinking obsessively about the woman I loved and somehow hated so much at the same time.

--@--

Life went on, slowly, painfully.

At work, a lot of people, not just Teri's friends, were throwing questioning, accusatory glances my way and I was having a tough time concentrating. At that point, I was glad that I hadn't mentioned to the Police, or anybody else for that matter, how Teri had set up my wife to cheat on me. I don't think she'd said anything either, because nobody, not the Police, not Bernie, not anybody at work, ever suggested they knew Rosie had been unfaithful, let alone that Teri might have had something to do with it. I was glad for that little secret, because if that story got out, I'd move up even higher on the suspect list, and the suspicions and hassles from the police would only get worse.

At 'home', I spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling, or the TV or a book without really seeing anything. My mind was foggy and I couldn't seem to get a grip on my emotions. Between the collapse of my marriage, the tension at work and being a 'person of interest' in an assault case, I was lonely, hurt, disoriented and more than a little depressed.

I thought things were going to get a lot worse when Jim Gompers called me up to his office the Thursday after Teri's assault.

I slowly made my way up to his office, feeling almost like I was moving to the gallows, placing one foot carefully in front of the other until I stood outside his open door, watching him work, head down, in back of a massive oak desk. After a few moments I cleared my throat to let him know I was there and he looked up, smiled and waved me in.

"Hey, Grant, close the door and have a seat, ok?"

I stepped into the room and pulled the door shut before cautiously taking a chair on the other side of his desk. He folded his hands in back of his head and leaned back in his chair, slowly chewing some gum as he looked me over for before speaking.

"Grant, I'll get right down to it." He said while unclasped his hands and leaned forward to this desk. "We were pretty alarmed about all the police rummaging around here the last few days and frisking down the employees. We don't like the optics and we really didn't like the idea that they figured Teri's assailant is probably working here."

"So, we looked into things a little to figure out what the hell is going on around here that the police would figure her attacker worked here. " He stopped talking and steepled his hands together, bouncing his fingertips off each other while he seemed to think about that he wanted to say next.

"To be frank, Grant, we think that there's a bad combination of workers down there. Kind of a toxic situation. "

His words seemed like the prelude to a demotion, or worse. My heart rate went up and I felt myself breaking out into a sweat while I waited for the axe to fall.