Kayla - It Ends

Thank you, Erik Thread for your editing skills and suggestions.

This is the ending to a mystery and an obsession, of a man who is seduced and captured by an alluring woman. Kayla -- It Begins, was posted yesterday.

*

Sitting in my study, watching her walk out of the house, I think I finally understood jealousy. I wanted to follow the taxi, jerk my wife out of the back seat then take her home and lock her in the bedroom. Since the first day I met her, I believed Kayla was a stunningly beautiful woman. When she worked, she pulled her hair on top of her head and put some kind of cap on to keep her hair out of her eyes. When she let her hair down, it fell in waves and soft curls touching her shoulders and hanging several inches down her back. It was a golden color, not brown and not blonde, but a combination of those colors. That I knew of, she never did anything but get a good haircut, the color was natural.

She was a few inches shorter than I was and kept her weight down to a slender shape that looked good in jeans, shorts, and a dress. Her breasts were full, but not overly large. Sometimes on a weekend, she would go braless. I enjoyed her teasing when she rubbed her soft breasts against my back or moved to stand beside me and pulled my arm into her cleavage. When I had her naked in our bed, I could touch and taste her breasts and imagine nothing in the world ever felt softer or fit my hand better.

I'd never decided if I was a leg man or a boob man, as so many men seemed to prefer one or the other. I just liked to look at my wife. I loved her long slender legs when she walked across a room and especially when they wrapped around me.

When she walked out of the house, she was dressed to impress. The dark red dress was form fitting with a low scooped neck showing the rounded tops of her breasts. It wasn't a blatant show of flesh, but a suggestive show of something hidden, which only a special person might be allowed to view. Her skirt was barely above her knees, but I'd seen her sit down in the dress. It slowly inched up her legs until anyone who looked could see half of her thigh. A man would imagine what was hidden from his view.

I was heartsick knowing she was taking all that I loved and enjoyed looking at and intended to give it to another man. Instead of me taking that dress off her, he would remove it. Instead of my hands running through those glossy curls and waves, he would have his hands full of that hair. Rather than my hands on her breasts with her hardening nipple brushed by my tongue, he would hold them and squeeze them and he might bruise her, hurt her.

I was a crazy man with my thoughts.

I was a breath away from insanity.

I was but a moment removed from extreme violence.

Yet, as suddenly as those thoughts entered my mind, I knew I did not care. I knew I had been the fool, reckless and careless with my inexperience and susceptibility to a ruthless woman.

The thoughts racing through my mind gave me a cold chill.

My only recourse was escape. I had yet to determine how to achieve that, but I would do so. I had no choice. My life was at stake.

For a few minutes, I sat and thought about a typical day. How much of my day did I give to thoughts of what I could do for my wife? How much of my day did I give thoughts to what I wanted for my own life? I did not like my answers.

I considered the costs, financial and emotional, of what I had allowed to happen and how much my life had changed in a few short years. I seldom called or spoke to either of my parents, although both of them had expressed some concern that Kayla was creating a wedge between them and us. Lifelong friends, both married and single, had ceased to be part of my life. They were not included in the circle of acquaintances Kayla wanted to cultivate.

I might be a passive person who did not use aggression to obtain what I wanted. Yet I did not see myself as a weak man. I used other methods to achieve my goals. I now had a goal that affected my life, literally my life, if I was correctly interpreting some of what I heard Kayla say during her phone call.

Her commanding voice saying, "They have to look like accidents and not at the same time either" was like a broken phonograph record playing over and over inside my head. I did not know who the other person was, but it sounded like Kayla was speaking about the wife of the man she was talking to, Brent.

* * *

Almost without thought, I answered the telephone, "Hello."

"I screwed up, Wendell. I royally screwed up. I'm sorry," Hollis was making sounds and I was barely listening.

"Hollis?"

"Yeah, man. Don't get mad at me. I can fix it, but you need to come sign a new deed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh hell, my secretary made a mistake, just a typographical error. She typed the legal description as Lot 21 and it should have been Lot 12. I didn't catch the mistake. The recording clerk was entering it in the computer and caught the error. That deed isn't official, yet."

I think I was hyperventilating, "You mean it's not recorded and that means Kayla doesn't have ownership?"

"Yeah, man. I'm sorry."

"Hollis, you may have just saved my life. I need to come see you. Do you have time now, it's ... it's sort of important. I think you use a term like 'time is of essence'."

"You're serious?"

"You just don't know."

"Well, come on then. I was gonna ... never mind, I'll just wait until you get here."

* * *

There was a lot I did not know about legal matters, but I did know I trusted Hollis. He might be a lawyer with a small office and a small practice, but he had taken care of me from my first need for an attorney, through the negotiations with publishers and movie studios.

He listened to me rant about Patrice's suspicions regarding her husband, B.J. I tried to tell him the exact words I'd heard Kayla use in her telephone conversation with Brent. I did not know if they were the same man, but had enough reason to believe they were.

Perhaps I was not rational. My emotions were bouncing all over the place. I may have been ranting, but I was frightened beyond belief not only for myself but for Patrice, too. I didn't excuse myself for my own lack of attention or failure to confront Kayla. I truly felt to have done so might have put Patrice and me in even greater danger. The only contact information I had for her was a telephone number. She was already in an extremely rough emotional state and I feared she could do something dangerous. If she confronted her husband, he might harm her.

Hollis didn't scoff, but he did question me, "You're sure of what you heard?"

"Yes, it's been ringing in my head ever since I walked up the basement stairs."

"And you feel threatened?"

"I don't want to, but I can't help it. The tone of voice she used sounded like she was the wicked witch of the west, like she was rubbing her hands with glee."

"Damn."

"But I did get the idea she wasn't really the ring leader, if that's what you call someone who's in charge. I got the impression she was following instructions."

"You mean like instructions from Jewel Adams?" I nodded, but shrugged my shoulders and admitted I had no way of knowing if Kayla was talking about only Jewel, or someone else, too. Hollis asked how well I knew Jewel.

"I don't know her, or at least I barely know her. She was one of the contractors who made a bid to do the majority of the work on my townhouse. She wanted to do the whole job, not just a little part of it. I had talked to a few of the other owners to find out if they lived in one they themselves updated. I wanted to know who did the best work. Jewel called me over and over. She started agreeing to use some of the people I wanted, but she was adding a lot of cost onto their price."

I was surprised when Hollis admitted, "The lady who sold you the townhouse said Jewel Adams called her several times to try to get her to sell the townhouse and carry the note."

"You mean instead of a cash sale or a bank loan?"

"Yes. You know general contractors file a mechanic's lien they can enforce if the homeowner doesn't pay when the work is completed. I've seen general contractors end up owning the home they were hired to repair."

I was nodding remembering some of the conversations with Jewel and then the work Hollis did for me during the final phases of construction. About that same time, I was so involved with Kayla I wasn't paying proper attention to my finances, my writing, or my home.

When I purchased the townhouse, I had already made some money on my first book, but it was basically an advance against future sales. That was about the same time the money really started rolling in from book sales. I was taking Kayla with me on book tours and the first discussions were underway about a movie deal.

"I've really made a mess of my life, haven't I?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Wendell. It's my job to keep you out of trouble."

"Okay, so get me out of trouble. But you must also do something about Patrice. Please, Hollis, I could never forgive myself if I didn't help her also." I was aware Hollis was trying to calm me down but something inside me kept jumping up into my throat, startling me into the realization my life was in danger.

Hollis chuckled and then he started laughing, not at me, but about the situation. When he could finally talk, he looked at me seriously, "You need to leave town."

"Leave town? Are you insane?" I couldn't keep my voice down to a normal tone. I was frightened. "I'm fighting for my life and you want me to leave?"

"No, I'm not insane, but you do need to leave. It's time for professionals to handle this. You can't do it. You'll just make matters worse. You cannot confront Kayla or anyone else."

"Hollis, I know I'm a pudgy, round-faced, wimp, but I've got to do something." I was almost screaming again, I just couldn't let go of my fear. "They're going to kill me."

Hollis was trying very hard to calm me down, "I know you're frightened. But it won't do any good or provide any protection unless you have evidence. That's what the professionals can obtain, evidence that will put them away for a very long time."

"What kind of evidence can you get? They haven't done anything yet." I was shaking while thoughts of automobile accidents and thugs attacking me raced through my head.

Hollis held out his hand, "Give me your house keys."

"Why?"

Hollis spoke quietly, "We need proof of her infidelity for the divorce."

"Damn the divorce, Hollis. They're planning murder."

"Easy, Wendell, take it easy. They haven't done anything yet. So all we can do is prove they're planning something, like a conspiracy. First, we need to take care of you personally. That means getting you to some place where you are safe. Then we tackle your divorce from Kayla. After that, we will deal with Brent and Jewel."

""O-o-o-kaaaay." I was listening, but he wasn't talking fast enough to suit me.

As Hollis outlined what he planned, I was trying to take deep breaths to calm down. Using a company he had previously hired for evidence collecting, he would obtain proof of the affair then he would work on the conspiracy. He was insistent that I be temporarily out of the way, giving the conspirators freedom to make their plans.

"Alright then, you do that. But I'm not leaving town. I know what you're talking about is what I pay you for and I'd be stupid not to take legal advice, but I'm not leaving town."

I glared at Hollis as he began talking, "I'm going to write an authorization for me to handle all of your business, personal, and financial affairs. You need to sign it then go home, put your computer in your car, pack a suitcase, and go somewhere."

I was clenching my jaws so tight they hurt. I had a half-million dollar home and about half that amount in home furnishings. With my uncle's estate and the advance on book two, I had more than a million dollars in various bank and investment accounts. The partial payment on the option for the movie was invested separately. My tee shirt shop was worth at least one hundred thousand dollars and I couldn't think about the money I'd invested in my wife's business. I was NOT going to leave everything in the hands of my lawyer and skip town. That is exactly what I felt like. I was not going to disappear and have nothing.

Almost out of my chair with alarm at what Hollis was asking me to do, I began to settle back down when he said if I would prefer, the document could name my father as my attorney-in-fact.

Hollis was chattering about attorney-in-this and attorney-at-that as he was printing forms for me to sign and copies for me to keep. I felt rushed and slightly intimidated that I didn't have time to read everything, but he was telling me I needed to get out of town.

I growled at him, "Where?"

"Does Kayla know about your uncle's cabin?"

"Oh." I suddenly stopped signing the paper in front of me, thinking that Hollis wasn't as bad as I'd been thinking.

After a moment, I said, "I don't think so. I never mention it. I seldom think about it. You take care of everything with that property management company that rents the house to weekend fishermen."

"I'll call them and tell them to cancel all reservations and offer a bonus as an apology." Hollis was looking through some files, "What about the tee shirt shop?"

"I can call the lady I hired for part time work to see if she's ready for full time."

He pointed to a telephone on a small table across the room. "Do that now and give her my name if she needs to call someone for questions or answers."

Now he was talking about things I could do. "What about my folks?"

"I'll call them as soon as we come up with a cover story."

The ache in my jaw was a little less, "Okay," but I didn't want Hollis to forget. "But you make damn sure they don't get away with this. I'm going to be sitting in that damn log cabin and I'll wish I was here punching holes in someone." It was a bluff, I wasn't a physical person, but I wanted to do something besides run away and hide.

"Just take it easy, Wendell. Don't forget, we have your reputation to be concerned about, too."

"To hell with my reputation, this is my life. I can live in obscurity. I don't give a shit if I never sell another book. I don't care if I'm branded a wimp and the whole world knows a man-eating woman took over my life. Maybe it will save another sucker from the same fate. You just make damn sure they don't get away with it."

The cover story Hollis and I concocted for my disappearance was research for my book. I'd made a short trip for book two but it wasn't much more than to get a visual feel of where my characters lived. This was going to be a more extensive trip, visiting many different places where I was unsure of adequate cell phone reception. I was taking the trip now because I had help at the tee shirt shop and I wasn't sure how long it would last. It was hokey as hell, but it just might work.

With shaking hands, I called Kayla's cell phone. When she answered, I heard her shush someone. It's unmistakable when you put your hand over the phone and talk to someone else thinking your caller won't hear. I told her I'd planned to talk to her that evening, but she'd left before I could do so. I said I was leaving town for a few days to do a little research and I'd leave her a note on the kitchen table. I also promised to call her when I could, otherwise she could call Hollis if she needed to contact me. During the two minute phone call, the only words she really said to me were, "Okay, Wendell", "Yes, Wendell" and "Bye, Wendell."

I gave Hollis a key to the front door of my townhouse and my cell phone, which he would keep charged and monitor my incoming calls. I promised I would call no one to inform them of my true plans. I left his office with a thin folder of documents, feeling like I had given away my whole life and everything I owned.

As instructed, I purchased a throwaway cell phone with the most minutes I could get. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do, but I turned around, went back into the store, and purchased a second phone. By midnight, I'd talked to Hollis four or five times until I was far enough away from town that I could finally take a deep breath.

I was beginning to think about my revenge. I wasn't going to interfere with Hollis while he collected evidence for the divorce, but I wasn't going to just lie down and take my lumps, either. I still had a key to the back door of my home. I didn't have any plans, but I was keeping my options open. I also had the key to the separate entry to the housekeeper's quarters. On the outside of the house, it was behind a rose arbor. Inside the small apartment, a sliding panel that looked like the wall beside the closet covered the door. That I knew of, Kayla never went into the small apartment. There was no reason for her to do so. Both rooms were windowless and dark.

* * *

I had trouble finding the cabin. I hadn't driven there in almost ten years. The small town I remembered was now a little larger. I took a couple of wrong turns and as it was not yet dawn, I couldn't see well enough to find the road I wanted. After a big breakfast in a small diner, surrounded by some of the community's other early risers, it was finally daylight. The cashier told me exactly which road to take. I suppose she was accustomed to feeding the men who used the cabin for their fishing trips.

By that time, the small grocery store was just opening for the day. I could stock up with enough food for a few days and pretend I was on vacation. Maybe by that time Hollis would have the divorce documents ready to discuss. I wasn't sure what else he had planned, but I needed some distance from the storm and the time to get my emotions in check. Most of all, I needed to begin using my head to think for myself instead of just going with the flow.

I unpacked and put my groceries away then sat down to think. I'd barely let go of the file folder of papers I carried out of Hollis's office. After looking through the papers, I wandered around the house and out to the back deck where I sat some more. I finally called Hollis and told him I was settled in the log house. I begged him to keep me informed, threatening to do something rash if I didn't know what was happening. It took most of the day to think about my next telephone calls.

I had no ideas. I was afraid to trust anyone. I just knew I needed some help. The customers Kayla was pursuing as clients for her business and her circle of personal friends were the same people B.J. was targeting for his fashion tours. Any other plans they had for those individuals did not concern me, but someone needed to know about it.

Luckily, the cabin had a telephone line, which I was not going to use for making calls, but I would have internet, even if it was only dial-up. That would slow down my messages, but I wasn't going to be sending many emails anyway. I wasn't expecting much more than a few back and forth exchanges with my editor.

Hollis had assured me that he needed a few days to get everything in place for the surveillance of my home. After that, it might take as long as two weeks to collect the proof he felt would be adequate grounds for the divorce. I didn't like the feeling I wasn't doing anything, but I also had to keep busy.

The amount of work I was able to do amazed me. I had huge holes in my story because I didn't have access to some of my research material. Online research was a total waste of time, but I was getting words on virtual paper. I finally started leaving the gaps with a footnote on the research I needed to do. I was so involved I wasn't even dividing the story into chapters I was just writing, going back to check what I had written earlier and then continuing with the story.