Stripped of Dignity

By Jeanette Cooper

For years Juliette Pardeau worked to support her husband and send him to law school. Then he tricks her into signing a Quit Claim Deed to their house and locks her out. Terror stalks Juliette when she finds herself homeless, penniless and desperate. Club Eros, a strip club, offers her refuge. With her life in transition from respected housewife to a shamed stripper her self-worth crumbles.

Craving revenge, she sets out to ruin Russell. During a police investigation into missing young women, she places a telephone call to his law firm, disclosing his secret fetish for young girls. It gets him fired. Juliette’s telltale phone call draws attention, setting off a string of terrifying events surrounding her involvement with a man seeking the whereabouts of his missing daughter. Then Juliette becomes attracted to Detective Nicholas Walker who handles the investigation when Juliette becomes the target of a killer.

Murder and mayhem unfurl into the most horrible discovery imaginable...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeanette Cooper
• Release date: May 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458092533

Jeanette Cooper

Jeanette Cooper, a native Georgian, a former elementary school teacher, graduate of University of Central Florida with a Bachelor’s Degree in Elementary Education and a Master’s in Reading instruction, is mother of a son, grandmother of a grandson, and lives in North Florida near the Suwannee River.Jeanette enjoys walking, reading, cooking, and gardening, but her greatest pleasure comes from writing and watching characters come alive as they interact with one another in adventurous life-like dramas that motivate reading pleasure.Her latest romantic suspense novels are Passionate Promise, Vulnerable to Deceptive Love, Stripped of Dignity and The Wrong Victim..

Book preview

Prologue

Juliette Pardeau sat in her favorite chair in the family room with windows facing the back yard, watching the strobe-like light of the television flick with scene after scene. Her concentration was elsewhere, stamped with irritation at Russell, her husband, who was busy in the back yard planting another tree. While there was nothing wrong with planting a tree, planting it at night in the dark without lights seemed bizarre and didn’t set well with Juliette. She kept jumping up from her chair and peering through the sliding glass doors, a futile activity since heavy darkness enfolded everything, extinguishing visibility.

After a while, her impatience got the best of her. She pounced from her chair and turned off all the lights in the family room, hoping to enable at least a limited view outside. It was now dark as pitch inside and out with infinite stars scattered across the inky black sky. A few lightning bugs buzzed above the yard, giving off an eerie luminescent glow.

She couldn’t see what Russell was doing. Even the outside patio light from the neighbor’s house didn’t shine bright enough to illuminate Russell and his bizarre nighttime activity with the shovel. Buying and planting trees was his exclusive hobby or pastime, which he takes pleasure in only in spurts when the desire hits him. The back yard was beginning to look like a forest across the backside of the property. Why he always plants them at night after the stars come out, and without a light, Juliette failed to understand.

The very first time he planted a tree, and at night, soon after they first moved into their new home, she wandered outside to watch. He was busy digging a hole and didn’t notice her presence.

Russell, why are you digging that hole so deep? She asked, coming up on him unannounced.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. Startled, with his deep concentration disrupted, in the pale light from the neighbor’s patio light his sweat-shiny face contorted into a querulous frown. He propped his weight against his shovel for support, as though her surprise presence had drained him of energy.

Goddamn it, Juliette, what in the hell are you doing out here? He snarled, glancing about him anxiously where he had set bags of gardening soil, fertilizer, and an over-sized trash bag already full of what Juliette suspected was yard trash. Not giving her time to answer, he added, Get back in the house, and don’t you ever set foot in this backyard again when I’m out here working.

Juliette frowned, suddenly miffed. Jesus, Russell, what’s your problem? All I did was walk outside.

He stepped toward her with the shovel still in his hand, raising it like a weapon. This is my fucking domain and it’s off limits to you when I’m out here. Do we understand each other, Juliette? He raised the shovel higher as if he might hit her with it. Get inside now! He ordered in a voice grating with rising rage.

Juliette paled with shock at his volatile attitude. Suddenly frightened of such vehemence, she stepped backward away from him. She has never seen Russell so adamant. Without a word, she turns and runs to the house, driven by an image of him raising that shovel at her.

She had never gone out there again during his nighttime tree-planting sessions, although there had been many. Trees were haphazardly crowded together on the backside of their back yard. Russell had implanted doubt in her mind about his bizarre tree-planting practices and she would wonder from then on, why he required such privacy during his planting activity, why he maintained such secrecy.

Now tonight, a few years later after their puzzling confrontation in the backyard, Juliette became antsy, wanting something to do. The fear experienced that night long ago had almost dissipated so that she barely remembered it.

Maybe Russell doesn’t remember it either, she thought, and hoped his attitude had changed after all this time.

Juliette was thinking that if Russell would allow her to help him, participating in something together might put a Band-Aid on some of the problems in their marriage. With that idea in mind, she stepped outside, hoping he would welcome her company. A dark night causes her to strain her eyes through a sheet of blackness barely penetrated by the neighbors outside light.

Mosquitoes buzz about her head and she brushes them away only to hear their annoying buzzing return around her face and ears. She stands silently watching Russell a few moments. He is so busy he doesn’t even notice her until the clap of her hand slapping a mosquito on her arm draws his attention.

He gasps in a sharp breath and his voice catches in his throat. He nearly drops the shovel, which he had been using to shovel dirt in a big hole where the tree set with a gunnysack wrapped about its roots.

What the fuck! Get the hell away from here! I told you this is my domain, he shouted. A tremor vibrated in his voice while he glared contemptuously at Juliette. He appeared terribly shaken by her surprise intrusion.

Juliette strains her eyes through the darkness to make out his shadowed figure. I just got here, Russell, she replied with a nonchalant shrug. I thought you might use my help.

Now that she has moved closer to him, the neighbor’s patio light slightly illuminates his shadowed form in the darkness. She wonders how he can possibly see well enough to plant a tree. One would think that if he enjoyed gardening he would want to do it in the daytime rather than working blindly. Obviously, he preferred the dark. Unlike landscapers who designed their plant layouts, there was no pattern to where Russell planted the trees. He planted them all on the backside of the property, haphazardly scattered like naturally grown trees in a forest. Wherever he found a soft hole to dig, that’s where he planted them. Oddly, he rarely tended the trees after they were in the ground other than an occasional watering; yet, they grew fast and healthy.

I don’t need your help, Juliette? He yells, toning his volume down when he remembers the neighbors. I told you long ago not to come out here while I’m working.

He moves quickly toward her, reaching out to press both hands against her chest in jerky pushes.

Juliette nearly lost her balance before backing away from the pressure of his hand. The remembered fear from long ago when Russell told her never to come in the backyard again while he was working there seized her again and she felt the hairs on her arms pop up. Something was terribly strange and freaky about her oddball husband’s solitary tree planting.

Russell frequently offended Juliette with his cantankerous, vile disposition and his coarse, common language. She even picked up some of his most frequently used words such as damn, shit, and hell. She didn’t particularly like using them, but sometimes they seemed entirely applicable to the message she communicated.

Russell wasn’t a very nice man, at least not to her. He treated her like some unwanted mongrel dog most of the time. She tried not to let it influence her because she didn’t want her own attitude to fan his fire by stirring up unnecessary condescension between them, although Russell didn’t need much of an excuse to vent his contrariness on her.

She didn’t particularly like being married to Russell, but marriage was the safest place to be since she had no job and no family or friends to turn to for help. It frightened her to death to consider being alone, so she put forth every effort to keep the peace between them, even though it was a one-sided effort. She would do about anything to keep her safe home foundation beneath her feet.

I only wanted to help, she says humbly in a tone of voice to which Russell most easily responds. Inside, however, she sizzles with anger at his harsh rudeness.

Shoving his palms against her chest again, nearly knocking her off her feet, he replied harshly, I don’t want your fucking help or need it. Do I accompany you to your gym for your daily exercise sessions? Do I follow you around the house when you’re cleaning or doing whatever it is that you do?

Juliette starts to answer, but he abruptly cuts her off and answers his own question.

Hell no I don’t! I sure as hell don’t want you out here getting in my way. What I’m doing out here is for me, something I choose to do by myself. He emphasized each word of his last sentence.

Juliette’s eyes had adjusted to the night blackness, slightly illumined by the patio light next door, and could make out the wild expression on Russell’s face. The white of his eyes bore a dark glint not unlike that of a wild animal. She had always been a little afraid of Russell, but now she felt deathly afraid.

Russell, there’s no need for you to be so cranky, Juliette said softly, thinking a humble tone might soften his aggravation with her. I was only trying to be nice. But don’t worry, I get the message loud and clear. I’ll leave you to your eerie solitude.

Then get in the house, he growled, giving her another shove before she turned on her heels, hurrying away as though he were chasing her with his shovel.

Tears, anger, frustration and defeat flood through her. She had always done everything she knew to do toward keeping their marriage together, nurturing it however she could with the desire to keep some semblance of happiness between them. Nothing worked anymore. Whatever they once had—which Juliette often doubted was worth the price she had paid for it—had slowly deteriorated into something ugly and nearly intolerable. Russell was impossible to please; yet, she kept trying, willing to concede to whatever demands he made upon her.

***

Juliette kept away from the back yard after his explosive temper tantrum. He continued randomly buying trees, often between long intervals of several months. He hauled them in an old van he bought, which he kept in the garage. He planted his back yard forest without any further interruption from her. However, his foolish behavior piqued her curiosity. She couldn’t quite let it go unchallenged. One evening after he had his bath following his latest tree-planting project, she blurted out her question. Why don’t you plant the trees during daylight hours so you can see what you’re doing?

He shot her a contemptuous gaze she had grown used to seeing. I work in the daytime? He snapped tartly, as if she were an idiot unable to put competent thoughts together.

You don’t work on weekends. She was serving him his dinner on a platter in the family room where he sat in his leather recliner watching television.

He visually examined the fried pork chop, green beans, mashed potatoes, and crusty roll on his plate, tasting the mashed potatoes first. I often work on weekends here at home when I have a big trial coming up, in case you haven’t noticed, he stated in a defensive tone.

She watched him eat, aware that he never complimented her on anything she cooked for him. Yet, he ate with gusto as if the food was enjoyable. Well, you’re off from work by dusk most days. You could plant them then when there’s enough daylight left for you to see what you’re doing.

Not bothering to cut up his pork chop, he picked it up and took a bite of it. Yes, he drawled out impatiently, but after I pick up the tree at the nursery its dark outside, therefore, I plant them in the dark. Irritation crept into his voice like a rising flood.

If Juliette hadn’t been watching the television screen, she might have noticed Russell’s tension building as she continued her probing. You could pick the tree up one day and plant it the following day, she persisted, seeking understanding of his bizarre nighttime activity.

Juliette, you’re getting on my nerves bad. It’s time you back off.

Well if you’re determined to plant your trees at night, you could at least turn on the outdoor light.

He slammed the pork chop bone down on his plate. I don’t need or want a fucking light. he slammed his plate on the tray setting on the table next to him. Do you understand, Juliette? I don’t want any fucking lights!

Well, you don’t have to get so upset just because we’re having a conversation about it. It’s eccentric and bizarre to work out there in the dark as you do. What must the neighbors think? I just don’t understand.

Fuck the neighbors! He decided the best defense was a good offence. Working without a light saves electricity, but you wouldn’t be worried about that, now would you. After all, you don’t have to worry about paying the damn bills, do you?

Juliette’s face wrinkled with a sudden nettled frown. The corner of her mouth turned up in a scornful sneer. It galled her that he never gave her credit for anything.

Like hell I don’t! she stormed back at him. Who do you think paid the bills all those years when you were working on your law degree, and afterward when you started working at the DA’s office and wasn’t making much money? Have you forgotten who paid your way through law school? Have you forgotten how I scrubbed floors and toilets and waited on tables to support you? Don’t you dare treat me as if I’ve been a financial burden on you, Russell. It’s been just the opposite. I have supported you.

The entire structure of his face changed and he glared at her with such a look of contempt in his eyes it caused Juliette to draw deeper in her chair away from him. A snarl rose on his lips and he really did look like some wild animal ready to spring at its victim.

He pounced from his recliner. Get the hell off my back! He roared, grabbing the plate of food and throwing it across the room. It bounced off the wall in shattered bits of glass mixed with food, scattering widely about the carpeted floor. Leave me the fuck alone!

He stalked from the house.

CHAPTER 1

Several Weeks Later

If Juliette Pardeau had known on that beautiful April morning that the day would start a downward slide of misfortune for her, she probably would have covered her head with her pillow, rolled over and gone back to sleep. Instead, as usual, she turned off the alarm at 5:45 a.m. and slid her feet off the bed onto the floor.

In the bathroom, she splashed lukewarm water on her face and toweled it dry. She brushed her teeth, ran a brush through her long wavy black hair, and threw on some slacks and a blouse. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she was glad she didn’t require makeup to look pretty. Her dark brows formed a shapely arch over her big brown eyes that flaunted thick, long dark lashes. Her unblemished olive complexion was creamy and as smooth as silk.

Every minute counted, so she rushed through her regular morning routine to get to the kitchen. Russell wanted his meal setting on the table waiting the minute after he dressed and came downstairs.

She went down to the kitchen with her usual flair of haste, and started cooking breakfast. At exactly 6:30, Russell’s plate of ham and eggs, hash browns, and toast were on the breakfast counter where he ate each morning. She set his glass of orange juice next to his plate then poured him a cup of steaming black coffee.

Good morning, she said with her normal cheerfulness meant to nurture a pleasant atmosphere.

He barely glanced at her. You didn’t overcook my eggs this morning, did you? He grumbled, purposely defying any attempt to be civil as he examined the eggs on his plate.

He was unaware of Juliette’s feelings, and if he ever suffered guilt from anything at all, it certainly wasn’t observable in his manner or behavior.

Juliette winced. If just once he’d say something nice, it would make her day. They’re just the way you like them, she replied with feigned cheerfulness.

He was dressed in his best dark blue suit with a pale blue and grey striped tie, looking unusually handsome. Juliette was to wonder repeatedly how someone as good looking as Russell could be such an asshole. He was tall, muscularly slender, had black wavy hair and brown eyes, and his perfectly formed facial structure produced a captivating face. Dressed professionally in a suit and tie he was noticeably distinguished looking with an authoritative manner and an appealing attractiveness about him. Early in their relationship Juliette had seen how women noticed and were drawn to him flirtatiously. He could be gracious and charming when he chose to be—that is, with everyone except her.

He drank down his orange juice, glancing at Juliette who took a sip of her coffee. You didn’t pick up my suits at the laundry. I can’t wear this suit two days in a row.

Juliette gritted her teeth at his complaining and bitchy tone. I’ll take care of it like I always do, she replied, trying to keep the edge from her voice.

He forked some hash browns into his mouth, his eyes raking his plate. I thought you were going to get them yesterday.

They weren’t ready yesterday. I’ll get them today, she said in a monotone to hide her rising resentment. If just one time she unloaded the depth of her feelings on Russell, she might anger him enough to kill her. The look on his face and in his eyes a few times had frightened her so badly she believed he was capable of far more hostility and aggressiveness than he had thus far demonstrated. Therefore, she kept her feelings to herself, held them inside, bottling them up, while finding ways to work off temperamental steam.

He took a drink of coffee. See that you do, he added, always needing to have the last word.

Juliette bit her tongue. At the sink, she washed the iron skillet used to cook the eggs. She noticed that he kept looking at his watch while wolfing down his breakfast. He ignored her as if she weren’t even present—except when he needed or wanted something.

She had learned to accept her place in his life, which by all standards could be nothing less than insignificant, considering his indifference toward her. She was no more than a servant catering to her husband’s needs: cooking for him, cleaning his house, doing his laundry, taking his suits to the dry cleaners, and picking them up. Even in the beginning of their marriage when she was putting in double time at two jobs so Russell’s time could be spent going to school and studying, she had done all those things for him. Her role in his life as servant rather than wife hadn’t even crossed her mind until after she quit her jobs and became a stay at home housewife. That’s when his attitude turned contemptuous and she began to suspect why he married her.

She accepted her meagerly sub-subservient status. In the beginning, she was too young and inexperienced to understand Russell’s selfishness and the fact that all he did revolved around his wants or needs. Then by the time she started questioning her role in his life, she was too deep into the marriage to consider getting out of it. Like many people with positive outlooks, she kept thinking things would change, that they would get better.

They never had.

Her marriage was a disaster, progressively worsening. At least in the beginning he made the pretense of caring for her, but that had all changed. She suspected his unfaithfulness long before she discovered it was a fact.

Why do you go to work so early? she asked one morning several weeks back when he was in his usual rush to be on his way. She knew that Dobbs, Gaines & Woodward Law Firm where Russell worked didn’t open its offices until 8:00 a.m.; yet, he always left before 7:00, as soon as he ate his breakfast.

He shot her a surly look, always displaying contempt when she asked him a question. I have a trial this morning, was his brief response.

Juliette had long ago come to doubt about anything he told her. She distrusted him and took anything he said with a grain of salt.

For many months, she suspected Russell was having an affair. His early departures from home each morning and his late arrivals in the evenings pointed to that possibility, notwithstanding the times when he was legitimately late. She could tell the difference when his lateness was work related, because he came home around nine, never later than ten. Other times, he might show up as late as midnight. It bothered her grievously to think he was coming home from a sexual liaison with a woman, but she dared not confront him.

To accuse him outright of being unfaithful could bring the disposition of their failed marriage to a head, and she wanted to avoid that. Her main purpose in life was to keep their marriage together at all costs. All her hard work and earnings during the years before Russell became an attorney and earned a living were tied up in Russell. He was her investment. Her security lay in that investment.

Unable to confront Russell with the belief that he was unfaithful, she bought an expensive Nikon camera and started randomly following him. She needed confirmation one-way or the other for curiosity’s sake. Camouflaging her appearance as best she could with a baseball cap and her hair tucked beneath it, she wore large sunglasses, jeans, and a baggy shirt to complete her disguise.

Several times Juliette followed Russell straight to work. Eventually, one morning he drove to the bus station, of all places. Juliette’s interest peaked. Did he go there to pick up a friend or someone he knew? She had stayed in the car that first time and couldn’t see what his activities were inside the terminal. After several minutes, he came out alone with a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand.

Was he driving nearly five miles out of his way just to get a cup of coffee? It was ludicrous to think so. It couldn’t be. There had to be another reason.

The next time he went back to the bus station, Juliette followed again, exiting her car and finding a surreptitious place from which she could observe Russell. He ordered coffee and then ambled about, casting glances at passengers getting off buses or at those in the waiting area waiting for a bus. He showed special interest in young women who were alone, unaccompanied by anyone.

He didn’t make direct contact with anyone over a period of a week so Juliette nearly decided to give up her pursuit. I’ll follow him there one more time, she thought, and if he doesn’t meet someone, I’ll give up stalking him.

It paid off.

Russell sauntered hesitantly up to a young woman sitting scrunched in a seat with a backpack on the floor and no other luggage. She looked a little lost and abandoned, yawning as if she’d like to stretch out on the floor and go to sleep.

Russell approached her, a beautiful young girl, probably around sixteen or so, looking as though she hadn’t even shed all her baby fat yet. He sat down beside her, glancing about, the gesture suspiciously looking as though he might be determining if anyone was observing him.

Juliette, camouflaged in her cap and sunglasses, found an inconspicuous spot from where she took several pictures of him and the young woman.

He made some comment to the girl then went and bought a paper cup of coke for her. Reluctantly she accepted. With eyes trained on Russell’s lips, she listened attentively as he talked. Taking a business card from his jacket pocket, he handed her the card. She looked at it, appearing to examine it carefully. Russell talked all the while. Whatever he was offering, the girl wasn’t buying. She shook her head, while her mouth formed the words, No thank you.

Russell smiled, reached out and took his card from her fingers, and stood up. He said something else, and walked away.

Juliette wondered over and over why he had approached the young girl, wishing now she had asked the girl after Russell left. Why did he offer her his business card? She knew he certainly wasn’t soliciting business for the law firm where he worked since they had a teeming abundance of clients. So why would he be handing out his business card unless it was a bogus business card meant to deceive?

That single incident inspired enough doubts to prompt Juliette to continue following Russell on random days often separated by lengthy intervals. It was usually on days when he seemed most eager to leave the house earlier than his job required.

Over a period of several months, three other young women struck up conversations with Russell at the bus station—and possibly others on the days Juliette didn’t tail him. They were all young and beautiful, all looking like innocent children. Each appeared to be a likeness of the first girl she had seen Russell approach, none of them with luggage other than a backpack—except one girl who carried a small valise tightly stuffed to form bulging sides and containing a shoulder strap.

Russell scored with each of the three girls. Once he had a girl’s consent, (to whatever he proposed) he smiled and related some instruction before going out to his car alone.

The girl would wait about five minutes then follow him to his car, which he always parked in the most inconspicuous spot he could find in the parking area. She would climb into the passenger seat and Russell would drive away with her.

He invariably took the same route back toward where his firm’s offices were located, making it easy for Juliette to tail him.

The first girl she caught accompanying Russell, he dropped her off on a street flanked by apartment complexes. It was probably eight or ten blocks from the law offices of Dobbs, Gaines & Woodward. Russell stepped out of his car and opened her car door. He handed something to her. Juliette snapped several shots of them before he got back in his car and drove away.

Juliette was tempted to hang around to see where the girl went, but she was more interested in following her two-timing husband to see where he would go next.

He drove to his office and parked in the building’s parking facility. Juliette drove back to the place where he dropped the girl off, but there was no sign of her. The fact that Russell handed her something, made her think it might have been a key, which certainly would be a good guess with all the numerous apartments in the area.

Did her cheating husband have an apartment where he conducted his assignations with the young women?

The next two young women, whom Russell lured at different times to his car at the bus station, were dropped off near the same area as the first girl, but not in the exact location. Juliette managed to take several pictures, using her camera’s powerful zoom lens to get up-close shots.

She knew there would likely be other women whom he met inside the bus terminal and perhaps in other places as well, but she had enough to prove what she suspected all along. Russell was unfaithful to her. Nevertheless, despite giving up her vigil of spying on him, she accidently saw him with still another young woman one Saturday when he was supposed to be working at his office. She had gone shopping. They both pulled up and stopped at a light at the same time. Since his attention locked on the girl who was in his car, he didn’t even notice that Juliette sat staring at him. She grabbed her camera and took a couple of pictures.

Now, she had a stack of pictures with five different girls, all stored safely in a safe deposit box. Of course, she had left film in her camera containing other shots, but by now Russell had likely destroyed the film.

CHAPTER 2

Juliette saw Russell look at his watch again while finishing off his breakfast. Seeing his coffee cup was nearly empty, she picked up the coffee carafe to pour him more, but he waved her away with a flash of his hand

I don’t have time for that, he said without even glancing her way. His indifference angered her, roused her resentment to an intense dislike of her husband. Nevertheless, she continued the farce of being the perfect little wife. His contemptible manner left her hating herself and regretting all the years she worked cleaning houses and waiting tables to support Russell and pay his way through law school.

She had always been proud of her contribution to their livelihood, until she realized Russell had no appreciation for what she had done. He was absent of feeling for anyone outside himself. She realized he was narcissistic and totally inside himself.

He rolled his head on his neck a couple of times. How about massaging my neck, he suggested. It seems to be tight and tense this morning.

Juliette turned away, hiding the disgust on her face. You seem in an unusual hurry, she told him, stepping behind him to massage his neck—a chore he often asked her to do. She did everything she could to keep him appreciating her, to keep their marriage together, although if she had had another secure alternative she would leave him in a minute.

I’ve got an appointment at 8:00 a.m. I can’t be late because my client is a big roller who won’t wait if I’m a minute late, he explained, saying more than he usually did of a morning. He pushed his empty plate away from him. Taking a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket, he flicked his lighter, looking down his nose as the flame ignited a red tip on the end of the cigarette.

He’s probably going to the bus station, Juliette thought cynically.

That’s why you wore your best suit today? she asked, moving her fingers on his neck and shoulders. She made a mental note to take his soiled suits to the cleaners when she picked up the other ones—suits she had scrubbed toilets and floors and waited tables to pay for.

He looked good all dressed in a professional manner befitting his position at his law firm where he kept hoping they would make him a junior partner. He was a handsome man but his heavy cigarette smoking dried his skin, creating premature wrinkles and graying complexion on his face that caused him to look older than he was. Juliette had caught him more than once using her facial moisturizing cream at night.

Yeah, you need to take the other suits to the cleaners, he reminded her again, swallowing down the last sip of coffee from his cup. He puffed away at his cigarette while Juliette’s fingers did their magic on his neck. When his cigarette was down to a stub, he stuffed it out in an ashtray. He wiped a napkin across his mouth then slid off the stool—no thanks to her for massaging his neck or making him a nice breakfast.

I’ve got to run, he said, taking several steps, and then stopping. He turned back and for the first time that morning, he made eye contact with Juliette. He took a document from his pocket, leaving it folded so only the bottom part with the signature line showed.

How about signing this real quick? He proffered her a pen and laid the document on the counter, his hand pressing the folded part down flat, making it unreadable.

Juliette took the pen. What is it? She posed the point of the pen at the signature line.

He glanced sharply at his watch, his face showing impatience. Juliette, just sign it. I’m going to be late.

Well, shouldn’t I read it first? She inquired without a great deal of concern one-way or the other. If he had a reason for needing her to sign something that jointly concerned them both, she saw no reason not to. After all, he was her husband and they owned everything jointly.

Why in the hell do you have to be so argumentative every time I ask you do one simple little thing?

I’m not argumentative. You seem to be the one with that particular trait.

Oh hell, this is just what I expect of a lame brain like you. Just forget it. I have to go, he snapped, snatching up the document impatiently and turning as if to leave.

Okay, give it to me, she retorted, and I’m not lame brain, just careful.

He ignored her outstretched hand, and just as before put the folded document on the counter with the signature line visible while he pressed his palm on the rest of it.

Juliette scratched her signature on the line and shoved his pen at him.

His entire attitude changed.

He smiled. Then he actually kissed the document.

That put Juliette on alert. She had been a fool to sign the document without reading it, especially since their marital situation had worsened extensively.

There had been subtle signs multiplying now for months, his forgetting to kiss her goodbye when he left for work or returned home in the evenings at all hours; his indifference to her effort toward communicating, him seeming constantly distracted by other thoughts he didn’t bother to share. Their sex life dwindled down to maybe once a week so long ago she couldn’t recall, and then in the last few months to zero.

It was just one more telltale fact that confirmed her suspicion of his unfaithfulness to her; which appeared to have started when he went to work with Dobbs, Gaines & Woodward Law Firm—maybe even before then for all she knew. Whatever the catalyst, something made him start wandering, put him on the lookout for women young enough to be jail bait. Maybe young girls raised his ego a notch or two, keeping it inflated by the act of him seeing how many of them he could screw.

His partiality for young girls disgusted Juliette. It never occurred to her she should report Russell. Her parents had taught her to mind her own business, not meddle in things she knew nothing about. She was afraid anything she did would irreparably damage their relationship rather than elicit Russell’s conformity and a renewed commitment to their marriage.

She didn’t want a divorce. She was too insecure without family, or friends, which she and Russell had never cultivated, at his insistence. She didn’t have a job or any job training—outside of housekeeping skills and waitressing. In actuality, she had nothing and no one outside her husband and the community property they shared. She might have been no more than an orphan eking out an existence with a man she had stopped loving long ago—or maybe she had never loved him at all.

She lived with her secret thoughts about his unfaithfulness, it the only prerogative she had; unless she chose to scrub floors and bathrooms or wait tables to make a living, like she had after Russell talked her into dropping out of college and working to pay his tuition. The deal had been that if she worked and helped him through law school he would pay her way through college once he became gainfully employed as a lawyer.

She reminded him frequently that she would like to start back to college. Her greatest goal had always been to become a teacher. He made one excuse after another why it wasn’t the right time for her to return to college. Finally, seeing how futile it was, she stopped asking.

Russell went out the door that morning with the document she signed, looking happier than he had been in a very long time. His immediate change in attitude drew her attention. She pondered all that day about the document, wondering what she had signed. It worried her and she hoped Russell hadn’t tricked her into signing something she shouldn’t have signed.

She had a frightening feeling that the document would somehow come back to haunt her.

CHAPTER 3

The mysterious document Russell finagled her into signing had all but slipped Juliette’s mind a couple of weeks later.

Then one afternoon she went to the Exercise Club where she worked out at the same time each day, five days a week, scheduling her sessions so she could be home before Russell arrived—notwithstanding the days when he was late. The daily exercises were her only pastime, an activity to get her out of the house so she could be around people. She was careful not to get too chummy with any of the folks she met. Russell wouldn’t like that. The one time she had invited one of the girls from the gym to the house for dinner, Russell had stormed out of the house. He stayed in a sour, irascible mood for a week after informing Juliette, Do us both a favor and don’t invite anymore strangers into this house.

A terrible argument ensued, but as always, Juliette gave in to his wishes.

With her daily exercising, Juliette couldn’t be in better shape. Her muscles were firm with tight skin covering them and she was as agile as a teenager was. Her complexion was youthful and smooth, slightly olive colored in likeness to her parents. She prided herself on her figure and looks. She suspected it was one of the reasons her husband showed interest in her when they first met—plus, she imagined that her being only eighteen back then also appealed to him—considering his interest in young girls. On the other hand, was she just a patsy for a free meal after she invited him home with her the first time?

She left the Exercise Club at five-thirty. Deciding to surprise Russell with a nice steak and bottle of wine for dinner, she drove to Publix where she usually shopped. She bought the steaks, a head of lettuce, a long loaf of French bread for making garlic bread, and other miscellaneous items she needed, paying from the household allowance Russell gave her each week. From there she went by a liquor store and picked up a couple bottles of cabernet, all the while hoping to create a friendlier atmosphere between her and Russell that evening. She found it disturbing and painful to live with the cold breach between them. She wished the two of them could be civil to each other, and unlike him, she was willing to put forth every effort to that end.

When she left the liquor store and got to her car, a back tire was flat and she saw it as an omen for the coming evening. She called Triple-A with her cell phone, but while she was waiting by the car, a young man asked if he could help. He changed the tire for her. She thanked him generously then called and canceled the Triple-A service call.

Glancing at her watch, she was an hour behind schedule and exceeded the speed limit driving home. Russell expected to have dinner on time each night at seven sharp, (on those nights when he came home for dinner.) Many nights the dinner she took special care to prepare for him was stored in the refrigerator untouched. Other times, it grew cold while he worked long after dark in the back yard with his tree planting. Here lately he seemed to seek reasons to belittle and criticize her, and she prayed that tonight things might go more smoothly.

Pacifying and keeping Russell mollified was an effort she strived toward all the time, not for his benefit, but for her own. She lived with fear of what would happen to her if Russell left her. She did all she could to create a warm environment at home for him, even if it was void of happiness for either of them.

Tonight he would likely be upset because she wasn’t at home