Storyteller

By Courtney E. Webb

Action and adventure in Central California as Sam Reynolds, PI, figures out the mystery and hunts down the bad guy. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Webbywriter1
• Release date: Apr 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386972358

Courtney E. Webb

I am an English teacher from California, living in Arizona. I have taught overseas and in the States. I have had bored students, interested students, engaged students and others. I would rather have interested and engaged students and hopefully, this book will help my students and other teachers on that path. 

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE—THE TEXT

8 pm: Boom Boom Room , Melrose. K

Mike read the text message, for a moment he couldn’t believe it. He looked around suspiciously, checking to see if anyone was watching him, reading over his shoulder.

C U there!!!!!! M

He was flooded by a sense of nervous giddiness. He almost laughed out loud and stopped himself. He couldn’t believe how easy this had been! Looking around again like he was expecting the Inspector General to be standing at his cubicle, he hit the delete button on the message. He made a little written note on his desk calendar, 8 p.m., to remind himself.

He was pretty damn sure he wasn’t going to forget this date, not Kristie. Wow! His heart started to race just thinking about her and the pictures she had sent him over the messenger system. Hot shit!

Mike twirled his wedding band around on his finger several times as he slipped into a daze thinking about the evening to come.

Several months before:

In Van Nuys, Kristie was busy marking her wall calendar; Thurs. Woman’s Group – cookies. She had started going to this woman’s group about a year ago and had made a bunch of other married women friends. In time they had gradually started to reveal what their lives were really like.

Full time housewives, part-time workers, cashiers, waitresses, executives, all types. Yet, frequently sharing the same safe-guarded secrets. Their love lives at home were dead. The passion had not only gone out of the marriage, it had died a slow death on the way out the door.

At first, they would giggle and laugh and swap stories.

The snoring, Oh My God! The snoring! They laughed.

"The belly, the belly! I think he is going to crush me every time he gets on top of me. He swears it’s only Lite Beer!

You? How about the cigarettes? God! Kissing him is just like licking an astray!

Yuk! They all agreed.

How about mine. Now he’s retired, he has given up wearing shoes.

He doesn’t wear any shoes?

"Well, yes he does wear some shoes. Flip-flops. All the time, flip-flops. Now the bottoms of his feet are like barnacle shells. I tell him he needs to go bet a pedicure to take care of that and he just tells me ‘That’s girlie stuff’ and won’t do it.

The women shook their heads.

How about this one, the cute red head chimed in, sleep apnea.

Sleep what? the curvy blonde replied.

Sleep apnea.

Oh, yeah, one of the other women said. That when you stop breathing and almost choke to death in your sleep! What’s that caused from?

It’s mostly his weight and I wish he would choke to death. He chokes, and coughs awake in the middle of the night and wakes me up over and over. She sighed.

The gym? one asked tentatively.

Oh yeah, the gym. He paid $350 for a gym membership. He goes and get on the treadmill for about a ½ hour. Then they have a sports bar...

They serve liquor at a gym?

No, no. It’s like a juice bar/protein drinks, that kind of thing. But they do have a wide screen TV. So, my husband does his thirty-minute workout, grabs a protein drink and sits and watches football with the guys for an hour and feels real good about himself.

How is he in the bedroom? another asked.

The red head stuck up her finger and made a downward curving motion with her finger.

Quick and dirty and mostly quick.

They all laughed.

Be glad you are getting even that, an older woman said. She was laughing but there was a note of sadness in her voice. They turned her way.

So, what’s the problem in your house? asked the curvy blond.

High blood pressure medication, the older woman said. He was okay for awhile but gradually over time, it got less and less. Now, she put her hands palm up, nothing, nothing at all. The other women sighed with her.

It’s too bad, the red head exclaimed, but, you know what, I am sick of it. We women work and work on our appearance. Right?

The other women nodded their heads.

"God forbid we should be fat, or ugly, or slovenly or anything! How many times have your husbands compared you to a 25-year-old and told you ‘you really aren’t cutting it anymore darling.’ There was a show of hands.

Christ, we have to be nothing but perfect and look at them. Fat, middle-aged slobs who think the world should still love them just like when they were twenty- five. Why? Because they’re men and they can do what they want! She was practically shouting.

The other women nodded.

But, do what? was a reply. If I nag and scold, then I’m told I’m a nag. I try to be a good example by what I do. Nothing makes any difference. He just continues to eat out at restaurants with all the high calorie food they serve. If I try and serve him a salad, he just calls it ‘rabbit food’ and ends up not coming home for dinner because I ‘refuse to feed him.’  I give up. She folded her hands in her lap.

That’s all true, Red replied, but look at this. She waved a little paper ad in the air. They all passed it around and read it.

When I was working full time, I gained a bunch of weight because I was working 8-10 hours a day and commuting and never had time for the gym. My husband did nothing except nag at me about my weight and made fun of me.

What happened? Blondie asked.

I went to part-time when I ‘semi-retired’ (cut backs) and then I had more time to get to the gym and take care of myself. The weight just fell off. She pointed to her new slimmer waistline. I figure what comes around goes around, and it’s my turn now.

Several women paused reading the article to stare at her.

No Tell – Motel – a site for marrieds looking for a little something ‘extra’ in their lives! Kristie read the article again and read it again. She got out a pen and paper and folded her little notebook to the back page and wrote down the email address of No Tell.

I’ll have to think about this, she mused to herself as she left the meeting.

Months later, Kristie’s husband Phillip was off on yet another business trip. She sighed as she watched him hustle out to the car and throw his suitcase in. She went back to the laundry room and got out a load of clothes including his underwear. She was putting socks and boxers away in his bottom drawer when her fingers touched the edge of something. What...? she mumbled pulling out a small pink and black business card.

Personal Escorts the card announced in bold pink letters. Any time, any place, anywhere, very discrete.

Kristie sat down hard on their bed and stared at the card. Her mind went blank for a minute. Finally, What the hell is this? she said so loudly the cat jumped off the bed. She could start to feel the red rush to her face and neck as it did when she was angry or embarrassed.

She finally got up from the bed with a jerk and went into her office. She found the phone and called the number on the card.

Personal Escorts, a soft voice purred on the other end of the phone.

Oh, I, I, want to get a date, Kristie stammered.

Male or female ma’am? came the soft reply.

Oh, oh, it’s not for me, it’s for my husband. His birthday.

Oh, of course ma’am. No problem. We can set something up for you.

What, what is the cost? she stumbled on the words.

$200 is the basic rate for a two-hour escort. Additional fees will apply based on services rendered. You will have to work that out with the escort. May I schedule something for you? The same soft voice.

Kristie couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man.

No, ah, no. I’ll call back later. She slammed down the phone.

Two Hundred dollars! Jesus. And additional fees depending on services. Jesus Christ!!!!! No wonder they were broke all the time. Phillip, I’m going to kill you. The angry thoughts began to swirl around in her head. She could not remember being this angry with him, or ever, in a really, really long time.

Kristie fumed the entire week until she got back to her woman’s group. She corralled her friend Pam.

I’m going to do it, she hissed at Pam.

Oh Kristie, I know you’re upset, but jeez... Pam looked at Kristie with a sad face.

I don’t care, that bastard. I never get any at home because he is always telling me how ‘tired’ he is. Fuck him! She was just furious.

Well, if it’s the money...I thought Phil’s law practice was doing really well.

It’s not the money, well, yes, it is the money. But that is only part of it. Lying to me and then getting sex from some, some...escort! Kristie’s face was getting red again.

Okay, girlfriend, Pam, patted her arm. Just calm down, it’s going to be okay.

Damn right it will, damn right. Kristie clamped her mouth shut as the two of them sat down.

Mike spotted Kristie right away at the Boom-Boom room in Hollywood. The curvy figure and wavy blond hair stood out. A little older perhaps, but wow, still a knock out. He sauntered over and introduced himself and oddly enough they shook hands. It reminded Mike a bit of a prize fight that was about to begin.

The two made light chit-chat while their drinks were arriving. She ordered gin and tonic and he got a Heinekens.

Mike sipped his beer and leaned forward and touched Kristie lightly on the knee.

I find you very attractive, he said softly.

Kristie almost blushed. It had been awhile since anyone had said that to her.

Thank you.

Mike sipped his beer and gave it a wave around the room. So, what got you here Kristie? No-Tell Motel, he gave a little laugh.

My husband’s never home and then when he is, he’s too tired to...well, you know. You? She sipped her drink, nervous to be talking about herself.

Well, really kind of the same story. My wife has moved up the corporate ladder as they say. He gave another little laugh which sounded bitter. So, not much time for the old Mike or...anything else. He sipped his beer.

The two of them sat silently for a minute thinking.

Do you...?

I always use condoms, you understand. Safer that way.

That’s okay, he told her. I brought some of my own too just in case.

He looked at her and smiled. Kristie laughed, maybe for the first time in a long time. Mike jerked his head toward the door in a questioning manner. Kristie nodded her head and they got up and left the bar.

Next week found Kristie back at the group sitting next to Pam.

Well? Pam’s eyebrows were up.

Kristie winked at her with a smile and sipped her coffee.

After the meeting Kristie grabbed Pam’s arm going out to the parking lot.

If I ever, need a, a, an.......

Alibi? Pam said.

Kristie nodded. For Thursday night.

It’s okay Kristie. As far as I’m concerned, you are here faithfully, every Thursday. Is that what you wanted?

Kristie’s head was hanging down. But she looked up and brightened.

Thanks, Pam, you are the best! and gave her friend a hug.

They walked out to their cars.

So, what does all this mean for you and Phillip? Pam asked.

Kristie was silent a moment. You know, I have no idea. I am just going to go with this for the moment. It is just such a relief to be having some sex in my life again, I just can’t tell you...

Pam held up her hand with a stopping motion.

Okay, too much information!

She looked at her friend and they both laughed. They hugged and said goodnight.

Pam stood in the parking lot watching Kristie drive away. She was thoughtful. Sighing, she got into her car and drove home.

CHAPTER TWO – D DAY

Kristie sat in the big chair in the living room, tapping the envelope on her knee. She could hear her husband Phillip upstairs banging around in the bathroom. His big travel bag was already by the door, the long coat bag draped over the top.

She ran her finger down the arm of the chair. Crushed chenille in a soft tan. It felt soft and comfortable under her touch. It went well with the mushroom color on the walls. The chair matched the big over stuffed sofa with muted tones on the plump cushions. She gazed around the big room. She had had so much fun decorating this place. The theme was a sort of island colonial feel; she was going to miss it. The place that is.

She tapped the long envelope some more, waiting patiently. She could hear Phillip stumping down the stairs finally. She had to admit, at fifty, he still looked good in his three-piece wool suit and shined up loafers. Ready for his big trip, his toiletry bag in hand.