When Barner hit the water, he came out of the darkness. But it wasn’t right. Something heavy. Get off woman. Heavy clamped tight on his back. Bare legs locked around. Two hands tearing at his hair pushing down. Don’t! Don’t! Can’t breathe. Head held under. Stop! Head pushed down, again and again. Stop it. Can’t shake her off. Choking. Get head up. Damn woman, strong, doesn’t stop—clamped on—just keeps going and going. Please, please….
Darkness…nothing.
Loraine swam to the ladder and climbed out. She found her robe and took the gun out—a bit of insurance in case he came at her, but she hadn’t needed it at all. He was weaker than she had expected, but had put up a lot of fight for a drunk. She stood watching his floating naked body. No movement. He was dead. Just the way she planned. Some booze, some bare skin, and he folded.
She took the Ziploc bag of money out of his coveralls and arranged his clothes as though he had undressed for a sneaky midnight swim. Taking off his stinking shoes and socks had been worse than getting him out of his baggy underwear. What a filthy person to touch, to undress. She’d have to drain and clean the pool as soon as the accident investigators were through. Always something.
She picked up her robe and hurried inside, she needed a shower to wash away the stench. When she was drying off after the long shower, the thought returned—he had touched her body. She had clamped onto his naked back like a leech with her legs locked under him, her hands clutching his dirty hair. He had squirmed and his body rubbed against her, and he had grabbed her legs with his grubby hands trying to get free. That man’s hands on her bare legs. It nauseated her to think about it. The tragedy of this whole affair was the necessity of touching him. She shuttered. She sat down quickly until the wave of sickness passed. She stepped back in and washed her hair and body a second time.
Then down in the kitchen, wrapped in her robe, she made a Martini and went to her favorite overstuffed-leather chair in the study.
Still early, before nine. Tired already. Need to think about talking to the police in the morning. I went to bed after the eleven o’clock news, Officer, and it was quiet then. He must have snuck over here after a night of drinking. I’ve chased him out of my pool before. I must have slept through the whole thing. This morning I saw his van here and looked around. Sorry I wasn’t awake to help him. I feel guilty, I might have saved him if I’d only known. To think it happened right here in my pool. Tragic isn’t it. Such a nice man. He wasn’t very old was he? Is there anything I can do? Did he have a family?
She needed to celebrate. She went to the kitchen and made a second Martini. When she had settled back down in her familiar chair, she made a silent toast to her plan. Her getting-rich-off-Al plan. It had worked. She had felt no touch of remorse when at last she heard the news he was dead.
Al had brought it on himself. Everything he had done to her over the years, she was back at him now. She was back at him for giving her only the house, the car, the stocks, and that piddling amount of monthly alimony. Since he made it big after the divorce, why shouldn’t she have more? She took him back to court but Al had the bigshot lawyers and the judge in his pocket.
Her plan needed Ray Reid or someone just as simple. Couldn’t just send the exterminator out to shoot Al. That’s no plan, they would zero in on him immediately. She didn’t want the police hunting all over for a suspect, and somehow blundering onto the truth. Give them someone, hand them Ray Reid. Steer him to Al’s apartment and he’ll make an ass out of himself because he doesn’t know what to say, what to believe. Plus he thinks she’s lying naked somewhere waiting for him. The incompetent police, as expected, went for the stranger in town.
She had to give Sonny Barner credit, he pulled it off. She thought it brainless to fly off to Vegas the same day he shoots Al. Fortunately the police didn’t make too much of it. People like him are always in trouble with the law and are smart enough to hold together if questioned. Other than that, he was just another worthless human being as far as she could tell.
At first, she was concerned about the deal. First, she offered him five up front and five after he kills Al. He said he’d have to think about it. Started in with excuses and talked about the complications. Wouldn’t be as easy as she was saying, and on and on. Wanted more. She needed him; so okay, twenty thousand total, ten down and ten after he kills Al. That sounded good to him.
Now she had just saved herself the second ten thousand and eliminated the one person who could bring her down. A man like him doesn’t deserve to have that kind of money. What do people like that need money for anyway? There’s nothing to buy in this little town. They don’t know how to use it properly. They spend it on their junk. Barner would have blown through all the money in no time and then be back for more. Well, he won’t now, and now there was one less foul-smelling man in the world.
Then a thought startled her and she sat up straight. The money, where was it? Did she put it back in the freezer? She hurried to the kitchen to check. Yes, it’s in there, but—oh my God—the revolver was sitting on the counter where she placed it while handling the money.
Had she forgotten anything else? The porch, what about the porch? She went out on the porch. She could still smell Barner. She switched on the overhead fan. That man would stink up the whole house if she let him.
The Chivas and the two empty glasses still sat in the middle of the table. Careless, damn careless. In addition, she spotted her headband and shoes near the door where she had tossed them when she went out to the pool.
All that incriminating evidence was sitting out because she was in a rush to go upstairs and wash him off her. If someone had walked to the back of the house, the gun on the counter and the glasses on the table could have been seen through the glass doors. That gave her a chill. Damn! Little things can trip you up, some little overlooked thing. Even so, she was still okay, she was sure no one had been around. She got out the Lysol and wiped down the table and chairs. Then wet mopped the porch floor with Lysol. Disgusting, the things she must go through to get her money.
Keep thinking, his prints are on the glass and possibly still on the gun. She washed the glasses. She carefully wiped the gun and the Ziploc bag of money. No prints or DNA could survive Lysol. Did he touch the Chivas bottle? She couldn’t remember. She washed that too. She stood thinking, had she overlooked anything else? She’d check again in the morning. She locked the doors and went to bed.
She slept through untroubled. Then it was light outside. She walked to the end of the upstairs hall, pushed aside the curtain, and looked down on the backyard. The pool appeared empty. The body would now be on the bottom. The sooner she calls the police the better.
She went downstairs. Everything appeared okay. She took out the money. How does she explain why she’s holding ten thousand dollars? Cash is never necessary these days. She took the gun out of the drawer. Must find a better place for this until she can toss it in the river.
She’d have preferred to toss the gun and hide the money before the police came but didn’t dare to leave the house. How would she explain backing out past his van, and not reporting a body in her pool? Wait until the police leave, there will be time. She put the money and gun in the upstairs safe. No reason for police to search the house because of an accidental drowning. She’d have their asses on a plate if they tried, take it to the Supreme Court.
Ready to phone? Recheck everything first. She walked through the house just to be certain. Upstairs was of no concern, but she scrutinized the appearance anyway. Leave the bed unmade, as though too upset to do anything after finding the body. Check the study. Check the kitchen. Check the porch.