A Trip Downhill With the Gang

Regret. It's a pebble of a feeling which if left unchecked, begins to roll tragically down the emotional hill in our minds, collecting other thoughts that culminate in to a huge ball of madness. This snowball, with Regret at its core, surrounded by Anger, Hurt, a hint of Jealousy and smothered in the foolish desire to control, careens into disaster and shatters lives leaving smithereens ... of? Regret. Ron let his pebble of regret roll down that hill. It was now picking up speed and bad ideas.

He hastily wrote the address down almost digging a hole in the paper.  He knew where she was now; 170 Rockwell Drive. The announcement for his top nomination would be made in two weeks.  She had been his first bad idea; a silky night inside a plush hotel outside his marriage bed during a conference.  They had met several times after that, certainly never at their homes.  She made him feel alive and invincible.  She was exciting and sensuous; willing to do and go places he'd never been with his wife. Her body was intoxicating, her voice hypnotizing.  He was addicted. When his wife, Jan, found out about little Miss Heather, she had been.. upset? Her own pebble had started to trickled down, with her threats of a very public, messy divorce;  a scandal. So Ron had done what was right; what was best.  He told Heather, they were through.  He'd held her, wiped her tears and said goodbye. That was supposed to be that.  He was back on track.  Jan had reigned in her pebble and was working on a new direction and life for them both; one of public life in politics.  She practiced her wave and speeches about his integrity. She could be proud after all; perhaps.

Heather began to call.  At first it was to plead that they stay together and keep it quiet.  Ron actually thought about it, remembering how her long thin legs had wound around his body. How she chirped and giggled, clawed and moaned his name as they wrestled in the sheets.  But he was just getting noticed, making his way and that "way"could not include a mistress; not yet.  Maybe he'd look her up when he'd settled in and had some more clout to keep it quiet.  Then Heather's pebble rolled too; only she let it go.  She still called but to hound, follow and threaten.  The first of the pictures came to his office.  They had been addressed to him, but if he didn't do as she said, pay the money, she promised that all would change. They would go to his boss, his wife, his church, his daughter in Arkansas and Jesus himself if she could find the PO Box.  

Now her calls caused him to chomp three Tums at a time with a wince.  He slept rarely through a night, worrying and counting down to his nomination that he had worked so hard for.  His little pebble had begun its journey, quickly collecting Panic, Fatigue and Fear which all spurned what seemed like a simple solution.  He could solve his Heather problem, keep his skyrocketing career and his picture perfect family.  Regret had picked up speed and some pals on the way; down.  He smiled and checked his calendar. Tuesday? Thursday? He wondered if those were good days to commit  murder. Not Monday. Everyone had a crappy Monday. Not Friday because it was the weekend and everyone had stuff to do. Saturday was date night. Church on Sunday.Wednesday was a good TV night so that left the two benign ho-hum days. He nodded to himself, approving what Logic had begun to do to, organize the gang, the other feelings  Logic was  was giving him control.  He left for the store to get supplies for their plan.

After several stops, many changes of clothes: hats, coats, shirts and glasses (he didn't want to look the same in any security camera) and almost fifty miles of driving (not didn't want to shop locally) He hauled his loot in to the basement of his modest home.  He laid it all out, surveying, planning, envisioning the end of his problem; the end of Heather. Glee snuck in and was welcomed by the others though told to keep it down. What a party!  It was late when he left. Jan had gone out with friends. Heather had been nagging all week to meet for the final money drop and picture exchange.  Since Ron had agreed, she had been almost pleasant, flirty; like old times.

"You know, Ron, it doesn't have to end so badly." she cooed.

He could picture her pouty red lips sucking softly on her fingertip as she spoke.  He cleared his throat and his mind, knocking Desire on its ass.  Logic scolded it and told it to shut up.

"You're right, Heather. I've been thinking a lot about you lately."

"Me too Lover." her voice was thick and sweet.

He let her pick the place, the time and then looked up her home address. He had never abused this power before, but Common Sense (at the prodding of Foolishness) told him it was okay.  He had decided that he just couldn't wait to see her. Excitement had to be shushed but continued to giggle with Glee inside his head. The voices grew louder. He wrote the address down almost digging that hole in the paper.

Her street was cute and quaint, dotted with a few small houses; like a development that just didn't quite make it. They were older and smaller homes, most in need of work or at least a little attention, but it suited Heather's personality.  She was all of those things too.  He sat in the car he'd rented from upstate and pulled the mask over his face.  He heard the soft playing of "Silence is Golden" by The Four Seasons.  "But duct tape is silver" he mused with Sarcasm and shut off the car. 

Tension woke Panic and they got Nerve up.  He began to shake.  Regret tried to speak, but the others covered it up with whispers of encouragement.  They pointed out  his bag was packed, his tools ready.  He just had to follow through.  He could regain everything if he could just follow this through.  With a heavy sigh that brought bile in to his throat, he hoisted himself from the car.  He looked around and saw a woman walking her dog about a block away.  She couldn't possibly see him or identify anything about him.  He simply looked like a man walking up to his house; just coming home.

"People travel." His new friends murmured to him.  His face and head were sweaty inside the mask. Fear was terrified but Logic still soothed and pointed out this was the only way. She would not stop until ...  His conversation with himself escaped in nervous misty puffs in the night. He walked with Intent to the house. Logic had elbowed Courage who had been dozing in the corner. On wobbly legs,Ron and his pals moved on.

"One- oh- seven Rockwell" he whispered to them.  That little pebble was now a stone, racing around in his chest.  His hands wiggled playfully in his gloves. His heart was pounding inside his jacket, trying to keep up with all the commands and hullabaloo. Quickly, he went around to the side and found an access door.  It was easy to jimmy.  He was in.  He walked quietly through the house in search for Heather.  He marveled at the decor.  It seemed so much more grounded and homey than her personality.  Heather was a little wild, reckless and selfish.  Ron had pictured Heather satisfied with a bean bag, a couple of plastic art deco chairs and a cable spool for a table with an oriental dressing screen to give her the amount of privacy she needed... which wasn't much. Heather enjoyed being watched.  This little home was filled with brick a brack, flowery fabrics, conservative furniture. Caution cleared its throat to speak but Haste kicked its shin and told him to stop dillydallying. "It's time" they echoed between his ears.

He walked slowly down the hall and discovered the brunette woman sleeping peacefully in a simple tee shirt and panties.  Ron's mind jumped track for a moment, but then he saw the envelope on the dresser and he regained momentum. He scooped the envelope in to his bag and stood above her.  The hammer came down quickly with a thick grunt. He only needed to do it once.  He couldn't risk blood splatter or patterns on the wall to denote his left handedness or his height... Once only. Logic said that was good enough.  She never moved; never saw what happened.  Just like that, Ron regained control. "See?" they all sighed.  His breath rushed from him as if he had been mauling molten iron over a hot anvil for hours.  His skin was clammy and shiny with sweat.  There was no movement, no protest, nothing but a growing puddle on the bed.  He dangled the hammer over the blackmailer's body and bagged it.  He slipped it in to his kit and turned to go.  Ron carefully retraced his steps, wiping all the things he had touched with a bleached cloth to smear the skin and print evidence.   He then stepped out the door, looked in both directions and headed back to his car. There was the soft jingling of a dog collar.  He glanced nervously but saw no one on the street. They were cheering for him.  He yanked the envelope from his bag and began to pull what looked like X-rays from it. Regret screamed "Don't look!" and began to argue with Pride.  Both decided it was too dark and it was time to go. They all just wanted to finish what they'd started. Ron sided with Confusion but pulled away.  Although Exhaustion was pouting and whining like a child, Logic kept them all alert for just a little longer. He drove the speed limit all the way up state where he detailed the car, returned it and stopped periodically to throw pieces of his murder kit away in unassuming dumpsters.  The hammer was dipped in bleach and left at a construction site he'd seen on his long trip out shopping.  Ron drove home and hummed his new favorite Four Seasons song.

"It IS golden." he chuckled to the songbirds. His breath was even and calm.  He felt light inside. He was proud of his problem solving skills. He began to build his acceptance speech.  Maybe Jan would like to sneak away for a romantic weekend once the nomination had been upheld. He patted the envelope that he would shred when he got home. It was early morning now. His timing was perfect.  There was a lot of chest bumping going on inside his head. They had pulled it off.

The woman who lived at 170 Rockwell Drive stood stock still.  Her breath quick and terrified.  She prayed that her nervous pug Dewey would keep quiet and not bark at the stranger who went in to Kelly Parker's house carrying a bag. Kelly was a simple home body who lived alone.  She had recently divorced and was doing a great job of moving on as a Radiologist at the local hospital.  The woman recited the license plate over and over to Dewey as her hands shook uncontrollably. Dewey looked up and wagged after each letter and number as if to say "Yep. Got it. Got that too. Yep. We got it Mommy." All she wanted to do was get home.  Something was horribly wrong.

She keyed in and threw herself against her door. Then raced about, unlocking and re locking all her windows and doors.  She tugged her phone from her pocket and barricaded herself in her bathroom; Dewey waddling along every stride. She scolded herself for being nearly unable to dial the phone. She hissed his number.

"I would like to speak to Commander Ronald Garvey." she almost choked with surprise when the board picked up. She could hear the boredom in her voice.

"Well, my name is Heather Quimbly and I live at 170 Rockwell drive.  I think I just witnessed a break in." She was surprised to hear he wasn't in his office.  He had told her he couldn't make the drop tonight because he'd had to work. Not at work on a Wednesday?  "No. No message. Please put me through to dispatch. This is an emergency. They will page him."  Her knees were still knocking but she managed to tell the woman what she'd seen.  They assured her an officer would come to her quickly as well as to Kelly Parker. She walked down the hall to her dresser and pulled the photos out of the drawer.  She put them in her bag that she had packed.  Once she met Ron tomorrow and got the last installment, she was going straight to the airport with her one way ticket.  The original photos were already in the mail to the Mayor.  She'd walked them down herself with Dewey tonight and slipped them in one of the few mailboxes in town.  She'd be long gone by the time he'd have to explain his misconduct to his wife, his boss... the nomination for Commissioner was going to be withdrawn and he would regret ever knowing her.

Heather smiled. Her stomach didn't hurt anymore.  She felt sleepy.  She couldn't wait to doze in the sun and begin her new life.

The doorbell rang and the officer stood outside.  Heather began to tell them what she'd seen.


Ahahaha... I LOVED this. Absolutely loved and am proud of this one.  Okay I know some innocent woman got bonked but I loved this ending. It was DELISH! I got some flack about it already but it still makes me smile. I really hope you did too. Thanks for stopping by.  I have another one but it requires a little digging and research.  I'll see you in a few days.  Thanks for coming by to play with me today.