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That was the turning point. He was going to end it with Lily. There was no other way.
***
A DNA profile from Lisa’s body wasn’t going to happen. The crime lab had faxed the report to the precinct with the message that the samples were too degraded from saltwater contamination to extract a useful profile.
“This is yours,” Henry said, handing Alan the paper. “There’s one lucky son of a bitch out there.”
Alan read the report and hoped Henry couldn’t detect the near hysteria it had provoked. It was the only proof. So far, her phone reports hadn’t revealed anything, and there were no emails or other electronic communications to point a finger. They’d gone to hotels twice that Alan had booked online. Except for the security cameras, no one had ever seen them enter a room.
He took a long, deep breath. The way had been swept clear for him to dig in deep to find the murderer. And it wasn’t until that moment that he’d felt the loss of Lily. He regretted using her, and he was sorry she was dead. But he wasn’t sorry that she was no longer a problem for him, or so he thought.
***
Shelly hadn’t suspected anything was amiss. Alan had never been particularly aggressive sexually, and she was disappointed, but it was something she could get used to. He gave her enough attention when she blatantly let him know that she needed him. Walking naked into the living room when he’d been watching television for hours was enough of a hint that she didn’t have to humiliate herself. Getting into bed naked and waiting for him to get home didn’t work. She fantasized that he’d take his clothes off and slide into bed next to her. But he never got the hint.
One evening, on the way home from work, she had the idea to stop at Shore Pizza and get him chocolate chip pancakes as a surprise. Remembering their first date after the wedding, she couldn’t wait to lay the food out in the kitchen at dinnertime. He’d never expect her to do such a thing.
The parking lot was empty when she pulled in at eight o’clock. The food was ready for her.
“Breakfast for dinner tonight?” the server asked.
“Yes! He’ll be so surprised.”
“There are containers of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, just as you requested.”
“Thank you so much.”
Shelly had fantasized about smearing the whipped cream and sauce on Alan’s body and then licking it off. Leaving the store with her arms full of packages, she laughed and then just happened to look up at the dark marina parking lot as Alan’s car pulled in behind the trees.
Paralyzed for a moment, she watched the car travel behind the wall of trees and park next to a small sedan. She quickly descended the steps and went to the passenger side of her car to deposit the packages. Wanting to see Alan, but afraid, she found the courage to leave her car and run across the street to spy. There were no lights, and plenty of places to hide, and she didn’t worry about him seeing her. But he’d be there innocently, right? Maybe doing paperwork away from the din of the office.
Taken by surprise, she saw another person get into the car. Hiding behind a copse of trees, she watched Lily Porter, the baker, pull her sweater off in the front seat of Alan’s car. Rage flooded Shelly’s body. Her heart pounded. She saw Alan reach behind Lily and unhook her huge bra, pulling the straps off her arms. He’d never done that for Shelly. Her little breasts didn’t need much support, but she wore a bra because she was a woman and that was expected of her.
Not wanting to miss a minute, she focused on Alan and Lily, creeping up closer so she could see. It was clear, even in the dark, that he was crazy about Lily Porter’s huge boobs, sucking on them and practically boxing them. After a minute of that, Lily pushed him back against the seat, and he closed his eyes just as her head disappeared below the dashboard.
Watching Alan’s facial expressions while Lily did her thing out of view, Shelly felt her rage numb. She had a choice. Confront them and watch the ruination of her dream wedding with Alan, or let it go and figure out a way to make it end.
She remembered Alan teaching her how to fellate him. “Use your tongue. It’s not all about sucking.”
She wished she could look in the window and see what Lily was doing to Alan, but he must have come because Lily’s head came into view, and she wiped her mouth with his undershirt. Shelly would be sure to check that out tonight as soon as it was off his body. Then what? What was she going to do? But it wasn’t over yet, as Alan pushed a laughing Lily back, and it was his turn to disappear beneath the dashboard.
Anguish replaced rage. For some reason, watching him go down on Lily was worse than anything else. Tears cruised down her face, the despair so intense, she wasn’t sure she could pull off pretending she’d never seen it. What would it do to confront him? Knowing Alan, he’d deny it, and she’d end up believing she’d seen ghosts.
Grateful for her parents’ instruction that she act the lady at all times, Shelly knew the self-control she’d learned would serve her well tonight. She hunched over and crept back to the car, pulled herself together before pulling out of the lot with the lights off, and made it back home in time to prepare her silly surprise.
But she would do it up well, redoing her makeup and pulling her hair up on top of her head, getting the bridesmaid’s dress out of the garment bag. In the ridiculous push-up bra, her little breasts peeked over the top of the gown, never to compete with Lily the baker. Swallowing a sob, she slipped her feet into the high heels she’d worn at the wedding just as Alan’s car pulled into the driveway.
Dressed up, she stood waiting in the doorway, a huge fake grin on her face. He got out, a little disheveled, and smiled at her, looking slightly confused.
“What’s going on?”
“I have a surprise for you! I couldn’t wait for you to get home.”
“Yeah, sorry I’m late again.”
“No worries, Alan. Come on in!”
She made a point of hugging and kissing him, keeping it a closed-mouth kiss. His breath was sour, so she was pretty sure he hadn’t stopped off somewhere to brush his teeth after being with Lily, and it made her gorge rise to think of his tongue in another woman’s crotch.
