Chapter 1

The door opened, admitting a shaft of unwelcome light into the lounge where I was sitting on a Friday afternoon. A tall, bull-like man walked in and looked around the room, noticing me as I raised my hand and motioned him over to the table. He strolled over and slid into the seat across from me with a smile on his face. His real name was Gerald William Cassidy but he liked to wear jeans and a big cowboy hat when he was driving, so, 'Butch' Cassidy. Butch was a short haul driver for my company. We were a baked goods firm and distributed bakery items to the surrounding states. I was the manufacturing manager for the local plant as well as two others in Pennsylvania and Ohio.

I had taken the afternoon off in order to meet with Butch and talk to him about something that had been bothering me. His run was finished for the day since he began long before dawn and finished around early noon. He did the local runs and never had to be away from home much. He and his wife Martha used to be good friends of Delia's and mine, but that was before their divorce, about six months ago.

Butch looked at my face, saw the strain and frowned. "Watcha doin, my friend? I was surprised to get your call. I haven't seen much of you or Delia since my divorce. I thought I was no longer on your 'suitable friends' list."

It was true I hadn't talked much to Butch since he and Martha got divorced. Part of that was because Delia, my wife, hated Butch and blamed him for the problems in their marriage. When I mentioned that Martha was the one that cheated, she just smirked and said it was payback for his fooling around. Since I knew Butch fairly well, I knew that was bullshit, but it didn't seem worth getting Delia steamed up by disagreeing with her. She always seemed to be pissed at me for something or other so why stir up problems.

I waved the waitress over and ordered us a couple of cold ones. Butch eyed her up but didn't follow through, sensing this was not fun and games time and waiting for me to let him know what we were doing here.

"Well, Dee didn't want us to stop being friends with Martha so I just sort of let it go. The fault's mine, though I gotta be honest with you Butch, I don't much care for Martha since the divorce. But that's not the reason I wanted to talk to you. I had some questions to ask you and you're the guy with the answers."

"Sounds interesting. Shoot!"

"What first let you know that Martha was fooling around on you? What were the signs?"

Butch looked at me with a funny expression and then he began to smile. The smile got bigger and bigger as I waited.

"Seems someone else got problems in paradise, don't it? I'll be God Damned! Well, I ain't the least bit surprised, I'll tell you that."

"What do you mean? Do you know something? Something I should know?"

"I don't know nothing, but I have my suspicions. Your wife and my ex spend a lot of time together since my divorce and that means trouble if you ask me. But, what the hell. What'd you want to know?"

"What were the signs, the clues that made you suspicious?"

Butch gave it some thought, mentioned that thinking was thirsty work and waited while I ordered another beer for him and one for me. When they came, he grabbed his and downed a third of it in one swallow.

"OK, what were the signs? First, Marty got real quiet. She always was a talker and she never gave me a minute's peace when I was home. I didn't much care but suddenly, she stopped talking much to me. Oh, she still chattered on and on but nothing like before. Just nonsense stuff, things I couldn't care less about. It seemed like she was somewhere else most of the time."

He stopped to take another drink and stared off into space for a minute before continuing.

"The next thing was she'd pick fights with me over nothin. Nothin at all, that meant anything. She'd just wait till I said something and then jump my ass. Just wanted to fight. Nothin I did made any difference. That's when I first started to think something was up."

I could tell this was still sensitive territory. It had only been five or six months since the divorce was final. I knew Butch well and I knew that he still loved Martha, even now when he knew what she had done. But I also knew he couldn't forgive her. The hard part for Butch was that she didn't care.

"Then, I started to call home during the day when I was at work. I never used to do that and when I started, I would just hang up when she answered. It took about three weeks before I got the pattern. She was usually home every day but Wednesday. On Wednesday, she was gone during the early afternoon, usually until after 3 or 3:30. When I asked her what she did during the day, she said nothing but shopping and chores, like dry cleaning and such."

Another swallow of beer and a signal for another bottle. I did the honors.

"The last sign was that sex just slowed down until it stopped. Unless I really raised a fuss, she wouldn't have anything to do with it and when she did, it was like fucking a mannequin. You know, one of those blow up dolls or some such. Used to be she loved sex and we had a good time. Then, it just stopped."

I nodded, remembering the final days of that match. I knew Butch was hurting but I never took the time to ask him why then. I just minded my own business while he slowly died inside. The divorce was hard on him but I still kept my distance. Now, I was sorry. Sorry that I let him down and sorry I didn't pay more attention to what he was going through. Maybe too late, but I told him now how sorry I was. He just shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's OK. It's done now."

"So, how did it end? What did you do?"

"I took a day off and followed her on one of her Wednesday afternoon meetings. I borrowed a friend's car and waited outside the house till she left. I followed her to that motel off Fredrick Street and saw her meet that son of a bitch she was sleeping with. I took my camera and shot pictures of her going in with his arm around her and then coming out with his hand on her ass."

The beer came and he grabbed it and took a big swig. This was bringing back some bad memories. But, I had to know.

"I showed her the pictures that night and she just shrugged her shoulders. She asked me what I was going to do and I told her I wanted a divorce. She didn't even argue, just agreed with me that it was best. She didn't even want to talk about it. To this day, I don't know why. I still don't know why."

I was disappointed with that, I guess. I was going to ask him why she did it but he didn't even know. She divorced him and never even told him what he had done or why she had cheated on him. I wondered how he could survive, not knowing.

"Didn't you ever try to get her to tell you what happened? Why she hurt you that way? I would think you would have to know. Have to know so you could move on."

"Wasn't necessary. After I found out, I could never forgive her anyway. No way I would take back a cheatin whore like her. So, I didn't give a good God Damn. Good riddance to bad rubbish I told her. That's how it ended. She's still fuckin that sob but he went back to his wife and won't leave her. Serves her right. I didn't give her shit in the divorce and I ain't going to neither. She wanted alimony but I told her I'd fuckin quit if she asked for any. I'd give her half of nothin! She got the picture real quick. She wanted quit of me more than she wanted my money."

He finished the second beer and finally sat back, looking at me.

"So, Petey boy, you got problems? Seems like you want to know what to look for in your own marriage huh? No shit! But then, as close as Marty and Dee are, it's not too surprising. I think cheatin's a disease and Dee caught it from Martha. Hot damn! What you gonna to do about it?"

Not surprising that he figured it out. I wasn't intending on keeping it a secret because I wanted his help in finding out for myself what Delia was doing. All the signs he mentioned were there: irritability, silence, time away from the house and no excuse. Our sex life had been almost non-existent for some time now and just a duty fuck from time to time. It was really obvious now that Butch had clarified my thinking.

"Well, I think the writing's on the wall. She's given me all the signs that you mentioned plus a few others. I've racked my brain trying to find some way to catch her but either she's too smart for me or she has help. I just can't seem to find any proof of what she's doing. But, it's damn clear that she is cheating on me and I want to find enough to make sure she can't take me to the cleaners in a divorce."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Let ole Butch help you out. We'll cook up a plan to catch her cheatin ass!"

I would like to say we sat there and made a superior plan to catch my wife in her cheating ways but we actually just got a little buzzed on several more beers. I let myself go now that I had found a partner and someone to unburden myself to. Once I started to talk to Butch, I found I needed to unload this burden and it was close to midnight when I finally found myself trying to unlock the inside garage door with my key. I was having no luck when the door flew open and my loving wife stood there with her hands on her hips and her face showing me a picture of what the wrath of hell was likely to be.

"Well, you finally decided to come home. And drunk too, it seems. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well hello, my loving and faithful wife. Have you been here waiting for me, your loving husband? Or did you spend the time with someone else? Huh?"

Delia was furious but she narrowed her eyes at my comments. I was too drunk to take advantage of it. Now, she bit back a comment and simply turned away, walking down the hall to our bedroom. I managed to make my way inside and pushed the door shut, leaning against it as I tried to make the room stop spinning. After a few minutes, I felt steady enough to lock the door and make my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a cold washcloth. I felt like hell, but also quite relaxed for the first time in a long time.

After a futile attempt to pour a cup of coffee, which was cold anyway, I just dropped into one of the chairs and let my head fall onto my arms on the table. I would just rest a little until I got my strength back and then I would go to bed. I was still resting when I was awakened by a beam of sunshine coming in the kitchen window. I had spent the night right where I had come to rest! That was made clear when I tried to straighten up and the cramp in my lower back reminded me that I was no longer a young man.

I finally got myself up and moved toward the stairs when I heard the voice of my loving wife.

"Well, I see you passed out down here last night. You must have been really drunk to do that. Too bad, you'll pay for that today. I bet you feel really proud of yourself don't you?"

I threw back a comment that she probably didn't even notice I wasn't in her bed as I pushed past, heading in to take a shower and change clothes. I really didn't want to talk to her or discuss anything with her in the condition I was in. I made it to the shower, stripping off my clothes as I went. I let the hot water roll over me and I began to feel strength flow back into my body. My aching back finally loosened up and I was able to stand straight again. I started to feel almost normal. This was more like it. I reminded myself again why I rarely drank. No more!

As I was sobering up, I thought back to what I told Butch. Delia and I had been married for over nine years. We had no children since Delia was unable to conceive and she wasn't yet ready to consider adoption. I wanted kids but she seemed reluctant to make the move. It put a strain on our marriage but I thought we had worked through it. But the last four or five months had been particularly strained. Delia was angry, short with me about almost anything and she had closed herself off to me sexually. We had never had a strong sex life, or not since she found she couldn't conceive, but we did OK.

The last time we made love together was over three months ago and that was not a pleasant experience when I thought about it. Now, I was beginning to think I knew why.

An hour later, I made my way back to the kitchen, looking for that cup of coffee I wanted so badly last night. I smelled it and headed for the pot. A cup of coffee and I would be all the way back to normal. Unfortunately, Delia was also in the kitchen and that put a dark cloud over my mood. Now it would take more than just coffee.

"Just let me get myself a cup of coffee before you start in on me. I need something to wake me up."

"Too bad you had to make a fool out of yourself last night. Maybe if you had been home where you belonged, you wouldn't feel so bad today."

I had to control myself before I said something I would regret. Not regret, rather something I would rather her not know about. At least not yet. I opted to say nothing.

"I'm talking to you, Peter Burke! Where were you last night and who were you with?"

"I was with Butch Cassidy. You know Butch? He's the one that cheating bitch of a friend of yours left for the bastard she's sleeping with."

"You don't know what you're talking about! Martha didn't cheat on him first. He was the one that was cheating. She just got fed up with it and went out on her own. She and Jack were just friends. It was Gerald's fault. He pushed her into it."

I guess it was about time I told her the truth. I had to laugh at her ignorance. Martha had filled her empty head with all kinds of lies and I was in the mood to set her straight.

"Is that what she told you? Butch never cheated on her once in his life. I, and everybody who knows him knew that he loved that woman more than life itself. That was her damn story and she tried to convince everyone of it, but you're the only fool who ever believed her. Everybody else knows what she is. "

"That's not true. She was only trying to get back at him. That's all it was. Before the divorce, she just had sex with that guy once. Just once to make him jealous but then he got so unreasonable that Martha decided to divorce him. She couldn't live with his cheating ways."

"Sorry. Martha had been fucking Jack Mason for over seven months when Butch found out about it. He told her to get the fuck out and she said she was happy to, because Jack was leaving his wife and was going to marry her. She moved out the same day and never even tried to contest the divorce. Never once apologized or tried to explain. Just left. She's still fucking him but he's not leaving his wife. So, she's just a cheap whore."

Delia was looking a little shaken. I'm not sure what story Martha had sold her on but it was sure as hell not the truth. I think it was just starting to sink in.

"That marriage was over as soon as Butch found out. He told her he wouldn't ever forgive her and she didn't give a shit. The greedy bitch wanted alimony but he told her if she asked for it, he would quit and go on welfare rather than pay her anything. She'd already spent every dime he made. Since they had nothing but the house, Butch gave it to her along with the mortgage."

Delia was sitting there staring at me as if I had just told her we were being evicted. She was shell shocked! I wanted to laugh so bad but I held it back. Now was the time for the first shot in the war to come.

"Since her asshole lover didn't leave his wife, she had to sell the house to pay her lawyer. But it's OK since her lover will take care of her. I hear he's paying for her apartment now. That apartment you go to all the time? Owned by her lover, paying for his mistress. It's a good deal for him. She gets free rent and he gets free pussy. He writes the apartment and his paid whore off as a business expense."

I laughed at the expression on her face. It was priceless. Marty had really sold her a bill of goods. Not surprising. Now for the slam dunk!

"But I'll tell you that any wife that cheats on her husband is a slut and a fool. If she hasn't the guts to talk to her husband first to get the truth out into the open before doing that, she doesn't deserve to continue to be married to the guy. If she's that angry, then ask for a divorce. But to go fuck another guy, and blame it on him, well that's just crap!"

Now she was really looking sick. I don't know what she was thinking but I was now sure she was guilty. I wanted to push it some more just to make her do something stupid.

"You know my loving wife, if you did that, I'd divorce your ass so fast it would make your head swim. So, if you're thinking of it and trying to find some excuse, understand right now that there is none. No excuse and no second chance!"

I got up, took my cup of coffee that had gone cold again, and walked out of the kitchen and into the garage. I had a small workshop out there with a radio and a small portable TV. I sat down on my stool and took stock.