The sun rose on a cold, rainy Saturday as Jeff Hutchinson turned his somewhat dilapidated 1964 Plymouth Belvedere into the parking lot, eased down the hill, and pulled into a parking space in front of Lori’s townhouse. He sat for a long time listening to the idle of the cars newly restored 426-horsepower hemi engine. If only the rest of this heap was in the same shape as the mill, he thought. He smiled with mixed emotions: a work of love in progress costing money he didn’t have. Restoring a “classic” like this just takes time and money–mostly money. He sighed.
Jeff was still smiling with satisfaction at the purring of the engine when he heard Lori calling his name from her front door in her best stage whisper. Looking up through the drizzling rain, he saw her, standing in her bathrobe, frantically waving him into the townhouse. He said to himself, “Oh, God, what now?”
Lori was always getting hyper over something: the old car he drove and into which he poured what money he could scrape together, the “sloppy” clothes he wore, the jobs he couldn’t keep. Life with her was an estrogen-powered roller coaster. No wonder their relationship was what the experts might call “on-again, off-again.” Lori was a real looker with a fantastic body and was great fun, but there were other things in his life that made him happy, too. Besides, this was way too early on a Saturday morning to be as keyed up as she apparently was.
Life with her was an estrogen-powered roller coaster.
Lori couldn’t understand what Jeff saw in that rolling scrapheap he called a car. Now, when she desperately needed his help, he just sat there like an idiot with the engine running. Sometimes it seemed as if he cared more for the Plymouth than he did her. Jeff had a great body and was a lot of fun to be with, but when he wasn’t in jail for some petty crime or another, he was under the hood of that stupid car.
No wonder her dad referred to him as “jailhouse Jeff.” Truth was, while she felt she loved Jeff, Lori often thought the only reason she stayed with him was to irritate her dad, who had always tried to control every aspect of her life. Besides, the “bad boys” she’d met, even in college where she’d first met Jeff, had always attracted her. But his lack of attention and dread of commitment had brought her to her present predicament. Now she stood with the icy drizzle blowing against her, fighting back tears of fear and frustration, and trying to get Jeff inside.
Jeff climbed out of the car and hurried through the rain to Lori. As he approached her, she stepped back inside the doorway. When he reached her, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, more than her usual welcoming hug. He reciprocated, smiling widely, thinking he knew where this would lead.
“Oh, Jeff,” Lori sobbed plaintively. “I really need you.”
“I’m here for you, Babe,” he smiled. He drew back slightly and saw the tears in her eyes. This was worse than normal, even for her. “What? What’s the matter, Lori?”She pulled him close to her again and cried quietly. “Jeff, I need your help and understanding. Mostly your understanding.”
A sudden wave of panic swept over Jeff. His first guess was she was pregnant. What in the hell would he do now? Jeff loved Lori in his own unconventional way, as she must love him, but he was not ready for a kid or a marriage. He had too many things he wanted to do without those obligations, those burdens. With mixed concern, annoyance, and dread, he pressed on, “What is it, Lori? What’s wrong?” When she didn’t answer immediately, his frustration rose at his certainty of her answer and he continued, “Let’s have it, Lori. Tell me!”
Jeff loved Lori in his own unconventional way, as she must love him, but he was not ready for a kid or a marriage.
Lori pulled back slightly, looked up into Jeff’s eyes, and read his thoughts.
She smiled through her tears. “Oh. No, Jeff. It’s not what you think.” The smile disappeared as she said, “It’s really worse than that.”
“What could be worse than that?” Realizing the harshness of his words, Jeff tried to soften his tone. “I mean, what could be this bad?”
Lori led him to the sofa and eased him down. She sat beside him and started crying again. Jeff waited. Finally, she spoke. “Jeff, something terrible has happened. I need your help. But I need you to not be angry with me. You know I love you. And I’m counting on you loving me as much as you’ve told me you do.”
“Okay,” he said with uncertainty. “What is it?”
“Come with me.”
Lori led Jeff up the stairs to the townhouse’s only bedroom. As they climbed the steps, she spoke over her shoulder. “Please, Jeff ….” She squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers in return, mostly out of habit.
Her bedroom door was slightly ajar. When they reached it, Lori pushed it open slowly, turning away as she did. Jeff looked in, not knowing what to expect. There on Lori’s bed was an older man, his face and shoulders pressed down into the sheet-covered mattress. His lower body rested on his knees with his naked butt sticking up in the air. The man appeared to be dead. Jeff was simultaneously dumbfounded and amused at the absurdity of the image before him. He turned to Lori, who sobbed again.
“What the–? Who the hell is that?”
“He’s … he was my boss at the bank.”
Jeff’s disbelief now turned to anger. “Baynham? The ‘Baynham Savings and Loan’ Baynham? What the hell was going on here?”
“Jeff, please–”
“‘Please,’ hell! What is this, Lori? I thought we loved each other!”
“I do love you, Jeff, but, lately, you haven’t seemed the slightest bit interested in taking our relationship to the next level.”
“What the hell does that mean? You know how I feel about you! And you’re having an affair with some old fart behind my back?”
“It was not an affair, Jeff!” Lori reacted angrily.
“Really? What were you doing? Auditing the bank’s books?”
“This was the first time he’d come over here, Jeff!”
“Really? First and last, from the looks of it! So where d’you get together before today?”
“No! I mean, we’d never done this before last night! And nothing happened last night! We just had too much wine!”
“Last night?” Jeff exclaimed.
Lori grabbed his shoulders to calm him and then tried to compose herself before continuing. “Before anything could happen, Curtis became ‘excited’ and curled up like he is now. I thought at first he was just being kinky. Then, when he grabbed his chest and his eyes bulged, I realized something was wrong.” She reached out and took Jeff’s hand. “Please, Jeff, I’ve been through a lot. When it happened, I lay there and cried hysterically for a long time. Then it took me almost an hour to get out from under him.”
“Then, when he grabbed his chest and his eyes bulged, I realized something was wrong.”
“‘Curtis’ is it? Well, that’s pretty chummy–! Wait! ‘Out from under him’? Oh, great!”
“Where d’you think I was when he started getting excited, Jeff? Downstairs vacuuming? Look, he’s been coming on to me for some time, and I’ve deflected his attentions until now. You weren’t around, and since you didn’t seem to be interested in being around, I gave in. Besides, he’s very rich and can do a lot for me at the bank.”
Jeff composed himself slightly. “Wait a minute! ‘Last night’? If this happened last night, why are you just now calling me?”
Lori stamped a foot while screaming, “Oh my God, Jeff! It scared me out of my mind! After I finally got out from under him, I sat here all night crying, wondering what to do about a naked dead man in my bed! Trying to figure out who I could get help from!” Lori’s voice softened as she wrapped her arms around Jeff. “Every time, I came back to you, Babe. Please … please help me. What can I do?”
Realizing Lori needed him and his anger would not solve any problems facing her at the moment, Jeff inhaled deeply and relaxed a little more. “Well, first, let’s go downstairs and get away from this lovely image. And then we’ll talk.” Jeff pulled the door closed and started downstairs with Lori close on his heels, as if the specter in her bedroom would come after her in retribution for her abandonment.
As they sat on the couch, Jeff asked Lori whether there was any beer in the place. Her shock at the early hour for drinking beer, even for Jeff, was short-lived when he reminded her of the unfamiliarity of the scenario with which they were dealing. Sitting back a few minutes later, beer in hand, Jeff went through a series of questions trying to analyze the predicament. Lori dismissed his first thought of having her call the police and telling them the truth, after giving him a substantial time to leave the area. “He’s married, Jeff. I can’t deal with the shame of possibly having to face his wife with this. And it would mean my job, for sure.”
“He’s married, Jeff. I can’t deal with the shame of possibly having to face his wife with this.”
“Yeah, you’re right. The old girl would probably keel over herself.”
Lori shook her head, “Oh, Darlene Baynham’s not old. Not nearly his age, anyway. That’s the joke at the bank. Curtis’ money got him a trophy wife. She’s much younger than he is … uh, was. And beautiful, too. I’ve seen her when she’s come into his office at the main branch.”
“Mmm. A trophy wife, huh? How much money did the old fart have?”
“Well, the bank is one of the few family-owned and -operated community banks left in the state. Mr. Baynham’s dad started it after the depression, and it’s been a tremendous success. Curtis won’t give in to pressure to sell out to the bigger multi-state banks. He took it over when his dad got sick years ago. And he’s built BS&L up to an even stronger institution with six branches in this part of the state. Curtis is very rich.”
“You sound like a damned commercial, Lori. So the guy’s rich. How come I’ve never heard of him outside of you working for him?”
Lori gave him a cynical smirked. “Jeff, when’s the last time you read any financial page or the social page of any newspaper?”
“Okay, okay. He’s rich. And he has a beautiful young wife. So, no offense, but what’s he doing here with you, Lori?”
For a moment, Lori just glared at Jeff. When she felt he’d finally realized the stupidity of his comment and regretted it, she responded. “The story at the bank is she may be young and beautiful, but his wife’s cold as a fish to Curtis. Janean, his private secretary at the bank, heard him talking to her on the phone one day. Janean said he sounded like a dog begging for a bone. But his wife obviously loves his money.”
“So calling the police is out. Besides, they’re going to give you hell for not calling last night when this first happened. Why don’t we just leave his body on his wife’s doorstep?”
“Oh, Jeff, what a horrible thing to even think about! I’m upset enough without you suggesting something like that!”
He raised his eyebrows and responded sarcastically, “I didn’t realize the old guy meant so much to you.”
“It’s not that, and you know it! But he was a sweet old man who seemed to care a lot for me!”
“Yeah, right! One look at the carcass upstairs and I know what he cared about!”
The snide remark stunned and hurt Lori, but she stopped herself from responding. Jeff is lucky to have me, and he knows it, she reassured herself.
Likewise, Jeff knew immediately he’d said the wrong thing. I’m lucky to have Lori with me, he thought. Thinking the better of it, he said nothing more, not even to apologize. The two sat in silence for a long while. An occasional heavy gasp or a whimper from Lori broke the quiet. Jeff kept thinking how glad he was to have Lori in a position really to need him, to have him take charge in a manly way, and to handle something this important for her.
Suddenly, an idea struck Jeff, but he was hesitant to suggest it. After waiting a time, his nature finally got the better of him. “Look, we both need money, right? You don’t want to be stuck in the bank the rest of your life, and I’m employment-challenged at the moment. What if we call the widow and try to get some cash for the geezer? Like a ransom?”
Through an outburst of renewed sobs, Lori screamed, “Jeff! If I couldn’t think of just leaving him on the doorstep, how could I possibly think about doing something like that?”
Jeff sat quietly, appropriately chastised for his inappropriate suggestion. Finally, he spoke. “All right, here’s what we do. I’ll make an anonymous call to Mrs. Baynham and tell her her husband died of an apparent heart attack while at a meeting or something. I’ll offer to leave the body somewhere for her to claim or deliver it for her to pick up or something.” At Lori’s harsh look, he assured her, “No ransom demand! I won’t give my name. That way, just in case something goes wrong, there’ll be nothing to connect you with me or with the body.”
“I’ll offer to leave the body somewhere for her to claim or deliver it for her to pick up or something.”
“But, Jeff, he’s dead! There’ll be questions!”
“It’s a natural death, Lori. Nobody committed a crime. Like I said, we can say he was meeting with me in my car or in his when he had–oh my God, Lori, his car! I didn’t even think of it before? Where is his car?”
At the question Lori started sobbing uncontrollably again. After a time, she managed an answer. “It’s in a parking space two townhouses down the hill! It’s a black Lexus! What’ll we do about his car, Jeff?”
“Just calm yourself, Babe!” Jeff’s mind raced. “Wait! Let me think!” After a minute or so, he went on, “Okay, this is the deal! Probably nobody’s looking for his wheels yet. No reason to, I hope. We’ll worry about it after I talk to the misses. Wherever we take the body, we’ll get there with his car first. You can drive my car, and I’ll take Baynham in his car. Still no connection to you.” Jeff stood up suddenly. “I need to go to the store real quick.”
“What for?”
“I’m guessing the rich all have caller ID. So I’m not using your phone or mine. And I’m not risking being seen using some pay phone somewhere. I’m going to pay cash for a disposable cell phone.”
Lori’s tears subsided as Jeff’s deliberative process took her aback. “Wow. You’ve thought this through!”
“Pretty much.” He bent down and took her hands in his. “I’ll do anything for you, to protect you, Lori. You need to know it.”
She smiled warmly and leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, when he continued, “By the way, do you have $50.00 I can use to get the phone?”
Despite the affection of his earlier words, this last question brought Lori back to reality. “Sure,” she sighed. “I think so.”
She retrieved her purse and the money. Cash in hand, Jeff turned to leave. He stopped just short of the front door and turned back to Lori. “Just stay here ‘til I get back. Don’t answer the phone or the door.” As he went through the door, he stuck his head back in. “Lori, while I’m gone, why don’t you save us some time later on and put the old guy’s clothes back on him.”
“I will not! I’m sitting right here until you get back!”
He suddenly realized the absurdity of asking her to do something like that in her present state. “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” he said as he ducked out of the door.
* * *
When Jeff returned a short time later, he found Lori still on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. The scattering of used tissues around the living room, which had been there when he first arrived, had grown in number. He realized she was still pretty shaken. She was crying aloud when he came in. He needed desperately to calm her for the task ahead and the best way would be by showing her he was in full control.
He needed desperately to calm her for the task ahead ….
“Okay, I have a phone with sixty prepaid minutes on it. Use ‘em up and throw it away. No problem. I’m driving somewhere else to call the widow. Do you have her number?”
“Yes, but why not call from here?”
“Just a precaution. In case something goes wrong, I don’t want cell-phone tower triangulation to lead anyone here.”
“How do you know about any such thing?”
“As much as I hate to bring it up at a time like this, you can’t spend time in jail without learning a few things here and there.”
“But I want to go with you. I don’t want to stay here alone again while he’s up there.”
“Fine, but you need to get dressed so we can go. We can’t drag this out.”
Lori hesitated. “Jeff, please go upstairs and get my jeans, a sweater, and a pair of shoes.”
Jeff dutifully climbed the stairs and gathered the clothing. As he started to leave the bedroom, he glanced at the late Mr. Baynham. Something occurred to him. Jeff didn’t know much about handling a dead body, but he was vaguely aware of a thing called rigor mortis and of a body stiffening up after a period of time. If we have to move this guy, he thought, it’ll sure be easier if he’s flat and not in this fetal position. Jeff pushed and tugged on the dead man’s extremities to place him flat on his back on the bed, arms folded across his chest. Dismissing the idea of taking the time to dress him then, he returned to Lori in the living room. After she dressed, they left in his car.
Once he had driven some distance from Lori’s townhouse, Jeff parked at a shopping center. As they sat in his car, he dialed the number of the bank president’s residence as Lori read it from a piece of paper. A woman answered the phone after several rings.
“Hello.” The voice was soft and very feminine.
For a split second, Jeff’s mind wandered before he spoke. “Mrs. Baynham?”
“Yes? Who is this?” Very feminine, indeed.
“Never mind. I’m calling about your husband.”
“Oh, yeah?” Very much less tender, less feminine now. “Where is the old bastard? He never came home last night! Not that I miss his decrepit ass! Do you know where the little weasel is?”
“He’s nearby. That is, I … he’s–”
“Well, you can tell him to keep his sorry ass where it is, for all I care! I hope he croaks!”
“But–” Jeff gulped at this unexpected reception. A decided click at the other end of the line abruptly cut off the conversation. It shocked Jeff. He held the cell phone in his hand away from his head and looked at it in disbelief.
Moving her eyes between Jeff and the phone, Lori sat with a look of puzzled expectation on her face. “Jeff, what is it? What did she say? What’s wrong?”
At last, Jeff looked at Lori and managed to speak. “She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want the old guy back.”
“What? Oh, no! You must have misunderstood her!”
Jeff swallowed hard, still stunned. “No, Lori. I think I understand the meaning when someone says, ‘I hope he croaks.’”
“She didn’t say that!” After a pause, Lori asked in disbelief, “Did she?”
“Yes, Lori. She did. The Widow Baynham likes his money all right, but, apparently, that’s where she draws the line with him.”
Lori’s tears started again. Hard. Jeff started the car, but then decided to give Darlene another try. He turned off the ignition. As he picked up the phone, Lori stopped crying long enough to ask him what he was doing. When he explained, Lori insisted on listening to the conversation. Jeff redialed the Baynham home and held the phone so both of them could hear the conversation. After a few rings, someone answered. A male voice this time. “Hello?”
Jeff asked whether the lady of the house was available. Before the person at the other end could respond, a woman’s voice intervened in the background. “What the hell are you doing?” she whispered, her voice seething with anger. “I told you not to answer the phone! Are you crazy? You’re not supposed to be here!” Jeff recognized the voice of Darlene, who, despite apparent efforts not to be heard, was coming through loud and clear even on this cheap phone. More whispered dialogue between the woman and the man briefly ensued. Then a sweet and, again, very feminine, “Hello?” followed rustling and muffled sounds.
Jeff recognized the voice of Darlene ….
Jeff disconnected from the call. As he laid the phone down and turned the ignition, he looked at Lori, who sat wide-eyed, mouth agape. “What? What’s the matter, Lori?”
“That man sounded like Mr. Cook, the bank’s attorney. I’ve only spoken to him at the bank a half dozen or so times, but I would swear it was him. I wonder why he’s at their home.”
“Well, maybe she called him when the old guy didn’t come home last night.”
“Maybe. But from what she said to you, it doesn’t sound like it would cause her enough concern to seek help or support. Or solace for this missing ‘loved one.’” Lori paused, working through the possibilities. “Maybe she’s getting comfort of a different sort.”
“You mean they might be dancing the old Serta samba together? You really think so?”
“I don’t know, Jeff, but he’s young and pretty good looking. And he’s very well-to-do in his own right. Not up to the Baynham level, but up there in the socioeconomic stratosphere. Just the type somebody like Darlene Baynham would find attractive.” Lori was quiet for a minute, recalling past events. Then, she continued, “And I remember one time Mr. Cook was talking to me, flirting really, when she came into the office. She saw him before he knew she was there. When he spied her, he stopped flirting with me immediately and sort of turned white as a ghost. She gave him one of those raised-eyebrow, reproachful looks. At the time, I just believed she disapproved of his being so friendly with ‘the hired help.’ She could be very snotty that way. I never really thought much about it until now. I wonder ….”
“Well, the way it adds up now, I think there’s a pretty good chance the merry widow doesn’t care whether she ever sees the old guy again.”
“But she wouldn’t have a lot to gain by his death.”
“Why’s that, Lori?” Jeff believed Lori was too upset and not making any sense. “If the old geezer’s as loaded as you say he is, it should fix her up for the rest of her life, right?”
Lori paused, thinking over the situation for a moment. “No, not really. I’m not supposed to know this, but Janean told me something once when we’d been drinking on a girls’ night out. Janean said the boss had this wife sign a prenuptial agreement. He puts a certain allowance into her bank account each month, so she has access to some of his money while he’s alive. But when he dies, she’ll only get a hundred thousand dollars in a life-insurance policy he has. Apparently, the bulk of his money is in some sort of trust fund for his children from his previous marriage and for his grandchildren. It goes to them when he dies. Only he has … had access to the trust while he was alive.” Lori paused for a long moment, and then added, “Jeff, what do we do now?”
“Apparently, the bulk of his money is in some sort of trust fund for his children from his previous marriage and for his grandchildren.”
“I’m not exactly sure. But I know we have to get rid of Baynham and his car. And soon.” Starting the car, Jeff said, “Let me think about it. And if you come up with any ideas, feel free to chime in.”
As they drove back to Lori’s townhouse, Jeff’s mind raced. He saw Lori was just staring out the window in total despair. Trying to lighten the moment, he laughed, “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t try to ransom the old guy to his wife, huh?”
She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, I guess. I just feel so lost, Jeff. That dead old man up there in my bed, and no one cares about him. No one wants him. Not even us.”
“It’s not a matter of not caring about him, Babe. It’s more like we need to do something with him to get the heat off you and yet preserve his dignity as much as possible. Does that make sense?”
“It’s so sweet of you to think that way, Jeff. But what do we do?”
Jeff just shook his head and exhaled audibly as they drove on in silence.
* * *
Back at the townhouse, Lori decided she needed to shower and get cleaned up. “But I don’t want to go up there,” she whined.
“Well, it’s where your bathroom is. I can go up and get clothes for you, but the shower’s something you have to do for yourself. Unless you want company,” Jeff said half-jokingly. He saw Lori’s reaction in her face and immediately regretted the comment. “Okay, okay, don’t say it. I apologize.”
As Lori disappeared up the stairs, Jeff flopped on the sofa. No sooner than his head hit the armrest, he heard Lori screaming in unmistakable terror. He bounded up the stairs three at a time and burst into the bedroom. There he found Lori cowering on the floor in a corner as far from the bed as possible, crying uncontrollably and screaming. “He’s alive, Jeff! He’s alive!”
Jeff turned from her to the late Mr. Baynham. He lay where and in the same position as Jeff last saw him. “What is it, Lori? What do you mean ‘he’s alive’? He’s dead! Look for yourself! He’s dead!” he shouted to be heard above Lori’s shrieks.
“But he’s moved, Jeff! He’s moved!”
It suddenly occurred to Jeff he hadn’t told Lori he’d changed the banker’s position earlier. He grabbed her arms to quiet her and to get her to listen to him. Lifting her from the floor, he yelled, “He didn’t move! I laid him out that way when I was up here getting your clothes!” When Lori stopped screaming and calmed down somewhat, he continued, “That’s what happened! I moved him! He’s dead, has been, and likely will be for some time!”
Jeff’s overwhelming need to laugh at the scene receded as Lori’s blank stare turned to one of anger. She began hitting Jeff’s chest with her fists, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How could you do that to me? Why didn’t you tell me? You jackass! You nearly scared me to death!”
Jeff embraced her tightly, trying to calm her and abate her anger. “Okay, Lori, it’s all right. I’m very sorry I scared you. I’m … just sorry.” She went limp in his arms. After a moment, he said, “Listen. Right now, we have to focus on what we are going to do from here. Stay put for a second.” Jeff moved to the bed and covered the body with a blanket. He returned to Lori and held her again. “Okay, Babe. He’s hidden. Now get your shower, get dressed, and come downstairs. We need to talk this through.” She held onto him for a time longer as he walked her to the bathroom door, where she kissed him passionately and turned to go, still sobbing. Jeff, feeling closer to Lori than ever before, watched her as she disappeared through the door.
Jeff moved to the bed and covered the body with a blanket.
* * *
Jeff drank another beer as he waited for Lori to join him. Ideas concerning how to handle the circumstances, what to do next, ran through his mind. He couldn’t help but think of Lori and their relationship, too. She’d told him more than once he needed to grow up. Maybe this was his “coming of age” time. Soon, Lori appeared and plopped on the couch beside him. She took his beer bottle and sipped from it. Jeff smiled at the easy feeling between them. “Feeling better?” he asked.
“Much better, thanks. I think the shower and clean clothes have helped my mindset. I just can’t stop feeling sorry for that sweet man up there. His money never brought him any peace or happiness. His wife is a bitch and hates him. Apparently, she only pretended to love him for the sake of his money. It just makes me sad.” They sat quietly for a few minutes before she asked, “Any ideas about what we can do, Jeff?”
“Well, first, we need to do something with his car. Do you have his keys?”
“They’re probably in his clothes upstairs. But, please, don’t ask me to search for them,” she winced.
“I wouldn’t think of it, Sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
Upstairs, Jeff rifled through Baynham’s clothes he found on the floor beside the bed. He located the dead man’s keys. As he looked at them, an idea crossed his mind. Maybe not much of an idea, he thought, but what the heck. He returned to Lori as she sat on the sofa finishing his beer. He jangled the keys at her.
“Found ‘em. There are a bunch of ‘em.”
“So I see.”
“Lori, I have an idea, but, if you agree to it and we do it, it’ll require a lot intestinal fortitude on your part. But, if Darlene’s as greedy as you say, it should work out with a little luck. And, even more important, it might make you feel better about the old man’s plight.”
“God, Jeff, that sounds ominous. I want to do something for Curtis, but I’m not agreeing to anything before I understand what your plan is.”
“Fair enough,” Jeff smiled and held out the key ring. “I found the car key on here easily enough. But would your boss have a key to the bank on this ring and can you recognize it?”
“Sure, it’s one of these two,” she answered, pointing to two of the larger keys.
“So he has two keys to the bank?”
“Well, yes. But I’m guessing only one of these is to the bank’s front door. The main bank is still in the same old building they used when the elder Baynham started it. It has two entrances. One is the front entrance, the business entrance. The second is a door leading directly into Mr. Baynham’s office from a parking lot out back. There used to be an alley between two buildings, but now the other building is gone and there’s a parking lot there. I understand it’s the only change since the bank began. But I’m not certain which key goes to which door.”
“Okay, who else has a key to the main bank?”
“Well, as far as I know, only Curtis and Jerry Stillwell, the manager.”
“Are you sure? The assistant manager doesn’t have a key? You loan officers don’t have keys either?”
“Well, I don’t, and I don’t think the others do either. As I said, only Curtis and Jerry have keys and that’s it. The main branch is a relatively minor operation, and Mr. Baynham is … was very particular about the setup and how things are run. Mr. Stillwell is the first to arrive every morning. He lets the rest of us in. They say he’s never missed a day’s work in all the years he’s been with the bank. And he’s the last to leave every night. Why?”
“Which one of these is his house key?” Jeff asked, extending the keys to Lori again.
“This looks to be a house key, but I’m not sure.”
“Yeah, it looked like a key to a house to me, too.”
“Jeff, where are you going with these questions?”
“Just go along with me for another minute. What does the Widow Baynham look like?”
“Well, she has blondish hair, a little lighter than mine. She’s a couple of inches taller than me, and we’re around the same weight, I’d guess. I’m not certain what color her eyes are, though.”
“The color of her eyes doesn’t matter. What length is her hair?”
“Hers is longish like mine, but I’d say it’s several inches shorter than mine. Why are you asking, Jeff? What are you thinking?”
Jeff outlined his scheme. After several questions and some hesitancy, Lori agreed to go along with his idea. The two waited for darkness to fall. Then, dressed in a sweater, jeans, a jacket, and a pair of tennis shoes, Lori made her way to the banker’s Lexus, followed closely by Jeff. Wearing a pair of dark cotton gloves he’d purchased at a local hardware store, Jeff unlocked the car, and Lori climbed behind the wheel. As he’d instructed her, she kept her hands in her coat pockets so as not to touch anything in the car.
The two waited for darkness to fall.
Jeff adjusted the seat to suit Lori’s height. He then removed the gloves, handed them to her, and she put them on. After she closed the car door, Lori pulled a baseball cap from a jacket pocket. She donned it, making sure a pony tail of long, blonde hair protruded from the back of the cap. As she started the Lexus, Jeff hustled to his car. She followed the Plymouth as they drove toward the airport.
While Jeff waited nearby, Lori entered the airport’s long-term parking lot and eased the automobile into a space. Before she exited the car, she removed a pair of dark sunglasses from one of her pockets and put them on. She opened the door and removed the gloves, stuffing them into a pocket with the keys before getting out and into the view of the ubiquitous security cameras. Closing the car door with a nudge of her butt, Lori made her way out of the parking lot. At the terminal, Lori caught a city bus which took her to a bus stop where Jeff was waiting. She entered Jeff’s car, and the pair drove away.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asked, squeezing her hand.
Lori caught her breath. “I’m fine. What’s next?”
“Now, we wait until tomorrow morning. Early tomorrow morning.”
* * *
Shortly after midnight, Jeff was again on the disposable cell phone, calling the banker’s home. A sleepy Darlene answered the call. “Hello,” she yawned.
“Mrs. Baynham. This is a friend.”
“What? Friends don’t call at this time of night.” Jeff heard a muffled male voice in the background. Someone tried to cover the receiver and speak where Jeff couldn’t hear. The attempt was only partly successful, although Jeff could not make out the words. The woman returned her attention to Jeff. “Besides, this sounds like the guy who called about my husband earlier. What the hell do you want now? Has the old buzzard croaked yet?”
“Look, lady, I’m calling as your friend. I understand you’re locked into a prenuptial agreement at this time.” Initially, Jeff’s statement met with a moment of stony silence.
“Who the hell told you and what damned business is it of yours, anyway?”
“Well, I have a bit of juicy info to pass on which may help you get out from under the prenup in a court of law, if you care to hear me out. I tried to tell you before, but you hung up on me.”
Again, a hand covered the receiver at the other end of the phone line, followed by a muted conversation. Jeff waited while, he supposed, she got “legal advice.” When she returned to Jeff, he had her full attention. “Tell me what you have to say, and it had better be good, mister!”
“I just wanted to let you know your loving hubby is in a motel room out on State Route Five and locked in the clutches of a gold digger. I’m sure you understand what the term ‘gold digger’ means, Mrs. Baynham. Catching him in that scenario should be a real boost to getting the prenup declared invalid. And it can lead to all sorts of rewards for you and yours.”
“Your loving hubby is in a motel room out on State Route Five and locked in the clutches of a gold digger.”
After a period of silence, the widow regained her voice. “Why are you telling me this? What’s in it for you?”
“To begin with, the gold digger in question is my wife. I’m sick of her being unfaithful. Second, do you think you’re the only person who hates your husband’s guts?” Jeff paused for effect before continuing, “But the ‘lovebirds’ will probably only be at the motel a couple of hours more, if you want the proof.”
“How can I be sure you’re telling me the truth?”
“Well, you don’t know one way or another. But he’s not with you and hasn’t been, because he’s been holed up with my Doris for more than a day. Besides, we both know the bee hasn’t been getting his honey in his own hive, now has he?”
“Who are you?” This was more a demand than a question, but Jeff remained mute. A few seconds passed. “What motel?” the Baynham woman demanded after the brief pause, her voice revealing an impatient anger mixed with the recognition she could only get so much information from her caller.
“The Cardinal Motel. It’s forty-seven miles north on State Route Five. And before your try to check it, he’s not registered under his name. Hell, the room may even be in a name that tramp Doris has made up! They’re using her car, so don’t look for his! But the best thing you can do is just stake the place out with a camcorder, if you can get one. Then wait for that slut wife of mine to show her face with your darling husband in tow.”
“She’ll come out of the room before long because she gets awfully hungry when she’s been randy. Just look for the tall, slender woman with mousey brown hair. And I assume you’ll recognize your loving husband. Good hunting!” Jeff disconnected from the call before she could ask about Doris’ car. Dropping the cell phone on the seat between Lori and him, Jeff moved his eyes from the phone to his girlfriend.
She was staring at Jeff in wide-eyed amazement. “What was that?”
“Well, when we talked yesterday, I didn’t tell you every detail for two good reasons. First, it would’ve been too time consuming, and, second, I hadn’t figured ‘em all out yet.”
“So what happens now?”
“We want Mrs. Baynham out of her house for a while and unable to account for her time in any credible way. I guessed she’d jump at the chance to get something on the old guy which might get the prenuptial agreement he made her sign thrown out by a court. So I invented the story about him being shacked up with a floozy. Who better to spill the beans to her than the cuckold husband? I made the scene of the tryst far enough away to give us time to do our thing. By the way, Cook was with her when I called. At least, it sounded like Cook, from what I heard of the guy. She’ll surely take him along as a witness. In her mind, what better witness in court to her husband’s dalliance than a lawyer?
“Anyway, if we’re lucky, she’ll haul it out to the Cardinal Motel looking for an unknown woman, driving an unknown car, and registered under an unknown name. Hopefully, that last part will keep her from trying to speak with the motel staff to find Baynham and his ‘lover’ by name. Those issues should add a fair amount of time to the round-trip time they’ll need. It’ll sound like a contrived story, if she should ever need to tell it to the police. And I’m guessing she will.” As Lori smiled knowingly, Jeff continued, “By the time they get back, we will have visited the bank and her home. Then we sit back and wait for the fireworks.”
“It’ll sound like a contrived story, if she should ever need to tell it to the police.”
“Where d’you get this deep insight into people, Jeff?”
“You remember the psychology class we took together our sophomore year of college?”
“The one you flunked.”
“Flunked, yeah, but I got something out of it after all,” Jeff laughed. “Seriously, though, Lori, I know I’ve wasted a lot of time-–yours and mine. It may sound weird with what’s going on, but I see things differently now. Straightening up my act and being a better person for you is my commitment from now on. I never again want to make you experience what you must have felt to get in this kind of mess. I want to be the type of man you desire, you need, you deserve. No more goofing around with my life or with yours. I only hope you’ll have me or, at least, give me a chance to prove my sincerity.”
Tears welled in Lori’s eyes. “Are you serious, Jeff?”
“Yes, if you’ll have me. And if you’ll promise to never let us get to this point again. Talk to me, yell at me if you have to. I’ll never push you into this position ever again. I promise. You deserve a better man than I’ve been, Lori. I’m not preaching, but you’re a better person than this, too. And I want to think I can be, too.”
They embraced, kissed passionately, and held each other for a long time. As much as he hated to leave this scene, Jeff knew there was work to do before the sun rose again. “Babe?”
“Yes?” she purred against his neck.
“We need to get a few things done.”
“Not now, Jeff.”
“They won’t wait. And then we can go back to your place and spend the rest of our lives finishing this chapter. I promise.”
Lori agreed. Later, at her place, she dressed in the same outfit she’d worn to the airport, carrying the gloves and sunglasses in her jacket pockets once more. Jeff laid Mr. Baynham’s clothes on top of his corpse. He then rolled him in the freshly washed and dried blanket he’d used to cover the body earlier. Because the corpse still traumatized Lori, Jeff carried the cadaver over one shoulder through the darkness alone to his car’s trunk. Once he’d safely stowed the deceased man in the Belvedere, Jeff drove straight to the area of the bank and parked on a side street nearby.
In the car, he went over what they had discussed earlier at Lori’s townhouse. Lori assured him she had access to the accounts necessary and could do exactly what needed doing in the small window of opportunity they had. She put on the hat, the sunglasses, and the gloves and got out of the car. As Lori calmly walked across the intersection to the rear entrance of the bank, Jeff told himself she was much stronger than she realized. He now saw it, and he was determined to help her find it in herself. He wanted to be the man in her life who did that. And he wanted to be the man who could and would be strong for her.
… Jeff told himself she was much stronger than she realized.
Although there were closed-circuit cameras in the area, Lori knew the rear entrance to the bank did not have any security cameras or alarm associated with it. This lack of a door alarm was a holdover from the first Mr. Baynham’s reign and a closely guarded secret. Inside Mr. Baynham’s office, Lori sat at his desk and worked furiously at the computer. Her desire to set things right for her former employer, compounded by her fear of police intrusion, dictated her pace. After ten minutes, she’d finished the task she’d set out to do. Lori left the bank, being careful to lock the door behind her. She walked casually to Jeff’s car, keeping the bill of the baseball cap low over her face, and got in. “Done,” she whispered. Simple as that. Nothing more needed to be said.
Jeff and Lori then drove to a location near the Baynham’ home. With Lori, who had been at the residence several times leading the way, Jeff hauled the dead man through the woods surrounding the house. Fortunately, the house sat on several acres of wooded land, preventing the eyes of nosy neighbors from getting any good look at their coming and going. From the edge of the woods, they could see the house was completely dark and apparently empty. Once at the door, Lori, using a small LED light, determined which key from Baynham’s key ring fit the door lock.
Lori stopped and turned to Jeff before she opened the door. “Jeff, these people are sure to have an alarm system,” she whispered.
“I’m counting on it. Listen, we open the door and dump this thing in the basement or a closet or somewhere out of the way quickly. Then we get the hell out of here even quicker. These systems normally have a thirty-second or so delay before the alarm sounds. In that time, we ditch this ‘load’ and get most of the way back through the woods. Okay?”
Lori winced at Jeff’s reference to Mr. Baynham as “this thing” and “this load,” but nodded her understanding. She opened the side door which led into the kitchen. A continuous, high-pitched beep sounded at once, indicating the alarm was on and activated. In a matter of seconds, Jeff had returned Baynham’s keys to his pocket and located a door just off the kitchen which led to the basement. In the same timeframe, he’d carried the corpse and its clothes to the basement, returning the man to his rightful home. Lori was waiting outside when Jeff reappeared, blanket in hand. They ran for the cover of the nearby trees. In short order, they were back at his car. The two heard the Baynham alarm blaring as they drove the old Plymouth away.
In a matter of seconds, Jeff had returned Baynham’s keys to his pocket ….
* * *
Back at Lori’s townhouse, they climbed into bed. Much later in the day, they awoke in each other’s arms. As Jeff got out of bed, Lori rolled back over to get just a little more sleep. She could hear Jeff showering and found comfort in the sounds. Even after he finished and went downstairs, her efforts to sleep proved futile. Finally, she gave up the fight and climbed into the shower.
Later, she joined Jeff on the sofa. He sat there, clean-shaven and dressed, beer in hand, watching the end of a football game on television. She ran the back of her hand across his smooth cheek. “Very nice. And on a weekend, too.”
“I told you I’m a changed man, Babe. I meant it.”
She smiled and playfully thumped the beer bottle with her finger. He looked at her sideways and returned the smile. “I’ve changed, but don’t expect miracles.”
She snatched the bottle away and took a long drink from it. “Yeah, I know. And I’m very happy.”
“Well, don’t faint, Lori, but this week I’ll be looking into a lead I’ve got on a pretty good job.” His words stunned Lori. She moved toward Jeff and embraced him tightly, moaning into his ear as tears filled her eyes.
The early news was coming on. The lead story momentarily broke the mood.
“Breaking local news!” exclaimed the talking head. “A local institution is at the center of a remarkable story tonight! The president of Baynham Savings and Loan is dead and his wife is in jail under arrest!”
Lori and Jeff looked at each, returned their gazes to the television, and leaned toward it.
The anchorman continued, “Marcie Shupe is joining us live from the Aiken County jail. But this story doesn’t evolve as one might think, right, Marcie?”
“That’s right, Ken!” pert little Marcie effervesced. “The police are still investigating the facts of this story, but here’s what we know so far. Mr. Curtis Baynham, president of Baynham Savings and Loan, is dead at the age of sixty-five. He died of an apparent heart attack, possibly late Friday night or in the very early hours of Saturday morning. The results of an autopsy, to be performed tomorrow morning, will confirm the cause and time of his death. But, at this time, it looks as if his thirty-two-year-old wife, Darlene, may have hidden his death from authorities for, as yet, undisclosed reasons. Police found his body in the Baynham home when they arrived there, responding to an activated burglar alarm.
“… his thirty-two-year-old wife, Darlene, may have hidden his death from authorities ….”
“Sources close to the investigation have told channel four news Mr. Baynham’s Lexus was located in a long-term parking lot at the airport, thanks to an anonymous tip to police. And it appears Mrs. Baynham can be seen on a security video leaving the luxury car in the lot early Saturday morning. Finally, Ken, and its only speculation to this point, but sources also hint the banker’s wife may have used her husband’s keys to get into the bank. There, she illegally transferred large sums of money from a trust fund to her personal account. Oh, there is one last aspect to this story, Ken. The same source has told me an as yet unnamed, local attorney is a ‘person of interest’ in this investigation.”
“So, Marcie, exactly what charges, if any, are pending against the banker’s widow?” Ken inquired excitedly.
“Well, Ken, I’ve learned, as of now, they have charged her with the misdemeanor of concealing a body. Felony charges of fraud and theft may be handed down later. The district attorney’s office will be looking at the case. That’s everything we have from here for now. Reporting live from the Aiken County jail, this is Marcie Shupe. Back to you, Ken!”
“Well, that’s quite a bit, Marcie!” the news anchor beamed into the camera. “Channel four news will continue to follow this breaking–”
Jeff turned off the television and sighed deeply. Lori grabbed his arm. “So, is this what you had in mind all along, Jeff?”
“Pretty much. But I wasn’t sure whether it would work. The cops will see a ‘Darlene Baynham’ on the security videos from the airport and crossing the intersection near the bank. And they’ll find her old man’s car seat is set for her driving position. His model Lexus has two memory settings for two different drivers. So with you and the widow being around the same height and him being much taller, I simply put the seat at the one farthest forward. Then you sat in the seat and drove it. It had to be her setting. Parking it at the airport just looks awfully suspicious and adds another element to the story the lady can’t explain. Plus, she wasn’t around when the cops arrived at their home and found his body ‘hidden away.’”
“Finally, at the same time she was absent from their home, the money was transferred from the trust to her personal account. The story she’ll try to give the cops of her whereabouts won’t be very plausible under the circumstances. In total, it’s what they call circumstantial evidence, but it sure looks bad for her. And her only alibi witness will appear to be a coconspirator, Attorney Cook.”
Lori was all smiles. “And you made the anonymous call about the car at the airport?”
“Yeah. Now, maybe the old guy can rest easy now.”
“And we can start the rest of our lives … together.”
“Together,” Jeff echoed.
And the sun set on a cold, windy Sunday. ©