Chapter 3

To suggest that Bill Phillips was nervous and upset during his Wednesday afternoon flight from Dayton to Colorado Springs would be understating the obvious. He was happy that he gained two hours on the flight west, as he could occupy his mind with work-related thoughts by going to the Colorado Springs offices as soon as he arrived.

As usual he picked up his rental car and went directly to the offices of their subsidiary before even checking into his hotel. When he walked out of the elevator on the third floor he met his local manager, Lewis Dempster.

"Holy crap, Bill! Are you feeling okay? You look like you're about to unload your lunch on our carpet." Bill had known that his employee used a direct approach wherever possible, but he thought this greeting was a bit over the top.

Bill smiled weakly and replied, "I'm going to be okay. It was probably something I ate on the flight. Maybe I got a bad peanut in my complimentary package of snacks."

Lewis looked a little skeptical, but he deferred to his superior with, "If you say so, Bill. Would you like some Alka-Seltzer or something? I think there's a small selection of antacids and such in the vending machine."

Bill forced himself to suck it up, and waved his hand in dismissal as he stated, "I'm okay. Don't worry about it Lewis; I'm sure it's nothing."

Bill spent about an hour being filled in on the largest problems that had appeared over the month since his last visit. Before he left to check in at his hotel he downloaded the corporate emails that had arrived in his inbox since he left Dayton, along with copies of the local situation reports that he would have to audit.

In some ways it was good that he didn't need to make any decisions during that hour, because he could not have predicted with any accuracy at all how well his performance would have been rated. Thinking about Linda, about what was going on in Dayton, if anything was, and what he would discover on his hard drive when he returned home, was eating him up.

After he checked in Bill made his customary stop for dinner at the restaurant just off of the lobby, but this time he found he could barely eat anything at all. Usually he was able to enjoy a light meal at least. He often thought that it was the clean, fresh air blowing down from the Rockies that gave him an appetite when he visited Colorado Springs.

At about 20 minutes to 7 local time he pushed away the plate of food that he had been toying with, paid his bill, and headed up to his room. He knew he would be unable to get away from phoning Linda as was customary, and his gut was already signaling that the stress he was feeling might bring up the small amount of food that he had just finished eating.

Bill had belatedly taken Lewis' advice, and had purchased a roll of antacid tablets. He had also bought a can of ginger ale, one of his mother's favorite remedies for an upset stomach.

Before he made his call he chewed four of the tablets, and swallowed them down with half of the soft drink. He wasn't sure if it was his amateur attempts at self medication, or just his desire to take control of his own body, but by the time he dialed the phone at the appointed hour, he wasn't feeling too bad.

On the second ring the phone was answered with, "Hi honey. How was your flight?"

Linda often answered the phone that way when he called, showing him that she expected the call to be from him. "Hi to you too, dear. My flights were fine, as usual."

Even though he tried to prevent himself from saying it, he continued with, "Aren't you afraid to answer the phone like that? What if it had been your boyfriend? He'd wonder what you're talking about."

"Bill, how can you say that? Don't even joke like that. You know I don't have a boyfriend." She seemed genuinely put out by his comment.

The fact was that it took Linda a couple of seconds longer than Bill felt it should to come back with that answer. That thought started to bring back the queasy sensations in his stomach.

"I'm just joking, Linda. Don't be upset." He felt it was all he could say, and then quickly took another large swallow from the can of ginger ale.

Linda laughed lightly, apparently willing to let the moment pass. "I'm certainly glad that you don't have to take that later flight home any more. It's going to be nice to have you home early this week."

Their conversation carried on from that point with more normal topics, but Bill was really not thinking about what was being said; his mind was fully engaged with trying to suppress his out of control emotions.

Bill had spent the two hours after his call home sitting in front of the television set, and an outside observer would have felt that he was engrossed in the baseball game that was featured on it. In reality, he was sitting there thinking about the same topic that had occupied his mind for too many days.

He had once again gone over everything that had transpired since his last night in Colorado Springs, the night he had phoned home and talked to the answering machine. He was especially concentrating on the surveillance system he had installed, wondering if he had reset it properly, worrying that maybe his PC would fail. He didn't think that he be able to wait another month to find out the truth about what was, or wasn't, happening at home while he was out of town.

Finally, at a time that was very close to his normal time to go to bed, he did just that. The time difference meant that there was still a lot of light outside, although the sun had dropped behind the Rockies. There was a noticeable difference though in how quickly it got dark in Colorado Springs compared to what he was used to in Ohio.

He had gotten into bed expecting that he would probably toss and turn all night, replaying every thought that had already gone through his mind during the day, but it didn't work out that way. He was asleep very soon after his head hit the pillow, probably as a consequence of the exhaustion he felt. Luckily his stomach had settled down, and one of the last thoughts he had before sleep overtook him was wondering whether it had been the antacid tablets or the ginger ale that had done the trick.

Because of the time difference Bill awoke very early the next morning. He felt refreshed, and for some reason the worries of the previous day seemed to have mellowed. He knew that if his worst fears had been realized during the night while he slept, there was little he could do about it now. After a hearty breakfast, one that was likely brought on by the loss of his appetite the day before, he headed for the local office, resigned to the fact that he would be busy all day.

When he stepped off the elevator Lewis Dempster was waiting for him. It sometimes seemed to Bill that Lewis must have a spy on the ground floor that warned him when his supervisor was coming in the door. It was either that or the man must have spent his days prowling the hallway near the elevator doors.

"Well Bill, you look a lot better this morning. Are you ready for a busy day?"

"I'm feeling much better. It must've been something I ate. I didn't get much time to look at the reports I took with me, so the day is going to be even busier than usual for me, I'm afraid."

The two men walked down the hallway to the conference room that they normally used during these monthly visits. Besides being quick to speak his mind, Bill was also aware of the fact that Lewis always tried to get on his good side. It was normal for him to get the door for Bill, and he did it again this time as they entered the conference room. In Bill's mind it bordered on ass kissing, but because it wasn't blatant he was still undecided on that even after all the months that he had come to work in Colorado Springs.

The day sped by for Bill as he worked hard to keep his mind on the job at hand, and not on the video surveillance files accumulating on his computer in Dayton. As a result of the hard work they both did they were slightly ahead of schedule by the end of the day. Bill's stomach was still feeling normal, and this time he was able to actually finish his meal before heading up to make his nightly phone call.

At the stroke of seven o'clock he dialed his home number and was greeted by the familiar voice of his wife after the second ring. She was very upbeat, and neither of them mentioned Bill's comment, about her having a boyfriend, that he'd made the night before.

They talked for almost 10 minutes before it came time for them to end their call. This time it was Bill who instigated their last exchange.

"Well honey, I guess I should let you go. I don't really have anything else to add, except that I love you, and that I hope you can get right into bed after this call is over."

Bill thought that Linda seemed to be a bit flustered as she replied, "I ... I'll be going to bed shortly, honey. I love you too. I know it's too early for you to go to bed, but you have a good night's sleep. Goodbye, dear."

"Goodnight, Linda."

Bill didn't awaken on Friday morning until the cell phone alarm woke him up. Unlike the night before, he had spent a restless night after lying there for hours with his thoughts torturing him. One little stutter in Linda's reply to his last statement to her had unnerved him completely. Instead of being at ease, he noticed his stomach was already bothering him.

Lewis had immediately noticed the difference in his demeanor, and once again commented loudly on it. Once again Bill managed to brush off his concerns, and the two of them quickly got to work on the remaining issues they had to address before he left Colorado Springs to return home.

The day once again whizzed by for Bill, and he and Lewis actually finished their work ahead of time for a change. Bill was able to leave early for the airport, and was not rushed at all when he returned his rental car, checked in with the airline, and then stopped for a leisurely light meal at one of the small food vendors in the concourse. He had even managed to temporarily banish his worries about Linda, and what he would find in his surveillance videos and on the telephone recorder.

There was nothing he could do about it, not at this time anyway. He had almost decided to phone home a second time the night before, to check whether Linda was there at the house, but he'd decided against that, partially from the fear that she wouldn't be there, but also because of the possibility that he might scare her off from whatever plans she may have made.

He hoped he could settle it one way or the other, because he really didn't think he could go through the stress for another month. The possibility that she was cheating on him, but just coincidentally not on this particular week, had also crossed his mind. He knew that if there was nothing on the videos or telephone recordings it didn't actually guarantee everything was fine, but he decided he would wait until he'd proven that before he decided what to do next.

Ideally there would be no incriminating phone conversations, and he would be able to watch her go to bed alone both of the nights that he was away. He knew that she could possibly leave the house to meet someone at a place like the Red Roof Inn, but the video would provide evidence of the times that she came and went while he was away. Anything out of the ordinary would be obvious to him, and he would have to decide how to handle that if it happened.

Bill pulled into his garage at almost exactly the same time as he had one month earlier. Linda's car was where it was supposed to be, and he quietly entered their kitchen, just as he always did. He was tempted to walk quietly straight past their bedroom door so that he could go to his computer and review what happened on the days that he was away from home, but it turned out that was impossible even if he had seriously intended to do it.

As he approached their bedroom door it was obvious Linda had heard him come in as she called out to him, "I'm waiting for you, honey. Get in here and get ready for your shower. I want you here in bed with me five minutes ago." He could hear her laugh cheerfully on the other side of their bedroom door.

There was a decision that he had to make; either he assumed that his worst fears had been realized, in which case he would want to make some excuse for not having sex with Linda, or he would act as though everything was normal. Since he desperately hoped that the second option was the case, this decision wasn't a difficult one for him to make.

When he pushed open the bedroom door some of Linda's candles were providing sufficient light to let him see that she was laying on her side on their bed, facing him and wearing a sheer, and very short, blue nightgown. It was one that she hadn't worn for him in at least a year, one that he had almost forgotten she owned.

"Wow, Linda, I haven't seen that outfit in a long time. I've really missed it." Seeing her there in such an alluring pose kept his concerns about her fidelity restrained deep in his thoughts. She had always known how to push his buttons he was quick to admit.

"Why don't you see how quickly you can get showered and join me here, honey." She grinned at him and smoothed the sheer material over her left breast so that the hard nipple and crinkled areola were plainly visible.

Bill quickly shed his clothing and headed into their bathroom to have a shower. He could see there were candles placed around the bathroom, but they had all been extinguished. Just before he stepped into the shower he saw a package of paper matches on the vanity, and he could immediately see that it was not the one that had prompted his concerns in the first place.

When he had quickly showered and stepped out to dry himself off, he briefly took a look at the shelf where the candles and matches were normally kept, and he could see that the matches from 'The Puma's Den' were now at the bottom of the small stack of matches his wife kept there. He had almost expected he would find that they had disappeared.

As he entered their bedroom Linda asked, "How was your day, honey? I know how hard these trips can be for you; I see how worn out you are."

The urge to say that it was his concerns about her, and whether she was hiding things from him, that had put him under a severe strain was almost overpowering, but instead he replied, "I'll be fine, now that I'm back home with you."

While he'd been having his shower Bill wondered if his questions about his wife's fidelity would have any impact on his ability to react to her sexually. He had been so conflicted and concerned over the last three days that it was something that was very much on his mind as he crawled onto the bed naked beside her. It turned out his performance anxiety was unfounded.

"What did you bring me from Colorado Springs, darling." Linda was looking at him as she reached to take his cock in her hand.

He could tell as he was crawling into bed that his erection wasn't any more than at half mast. It quickly assumed its expected size and hardness within seconds after Linda began squeezing and stroking it, and any concerns he had about his ability to perform were now quickly and fully dissipated.

Linda was almost catlike in her movements as she turned on the bed and moved her lips to his cock. At the same time she lifted her right knee over his chest in an obvious invitation for him to join her in mutual oral stimulation. For a second he hesitated, briefly wondering if he would be pleasuring her orally after some other man had deposited his semen in her.

He decided not to let that worry bother him because he had noticed the empty bottle from a scented douche on the bathroom counter. It was not unusual for her to use these common feminine hygiene products, and in the past he had found her taste would be a combination of her naturally tangy feminine flavor with a trace of peach or apple or some other more exotic fruit. This time it turned out to be his favorite, the peach douche.