Never Again

Short story about a woman playing amateur detective who tries to figure out what her husband is doing behind her back.

Winnie Callahan had become suspicious. She knew what he was doing. She just felt it, but she needed proof. Running her fingers through her short blonde hair she grimaced as she heard the front door open and close. He said he was going to work but she wasn't so sure that was the truth.

Jumping from the disheveled bed, Winnie threw on a pair of gray sweatpants, shoved her feet into a pair of tennis shoes and grabbed her car keys from the night stand.

"I can't believe he's doing this to me," she said to the cracks in the sidewalk. "To us; to our marriage." They were still newlyweds, well, they had just celebrated their first anniversary a few weeks before.

Glancing down the street, Winnie barely saw the back of his white Corvette as it rounded the corner. She still had time to catch up and follow him. Winnie knew she had to be careful though. Two cars behind and to the left. She had watched enough detective shows and read enough true crime books to know that.

"I will catch you, Greg Callahan," Winnie announced as she pulled her silver Honda out of the driveway. Her green eyes flashed red.

She held back on the accelerator but kept those eyes on the white Corvette that led her to the outskirts of town. Grabbing her cell phone off the passenger seat she dialed her best friend, Callie Wasson.

"Callie," she began to sob. "I think I'm going to catch him this morning."

"What do you mean? Catch who?" Callie's voice seemed high and she cleared her throat.

"Greg, stupid," Winnie rolled her eyes. She let the steering wheel slide through her fingers as she made another turn. "I told you I thought he was seeing another woman. How could you forget something like that?" Annoyance flushed her cheeks.

"Calm down, Winnie," the woman on the other end of the line urged. "I remember. It's just that I'm already at work and dealing with a situation. I just forgot for a second is all. What's going on?"

"I'm following him right now." She was trying to focus on the Corvette, her own driving and speaking coherently into the phone. She was afraid to fail; afraid to succeed.

"You're following him right now? Oh, Winnie, that could be dangerous." Callie was concerned.

"How could it be dangerous? He hasn't seen me." Winnie adjusted her rear view mirror and quickly changed lanes as her husband pulled into a motel parking lot. Her heart sank.

"What if he does see you? What if he gets mad? Do you think he's capable of hurting you?" Callie's words came out in a rush.

"Hey, I gotta go. I'm not sure what's about to happen but I'll call you later." Hitting the OFF button on the cell phone, Winnie hung up before her friend could protest.

She parked the Honda in front of a vacant bookstore across the street and stepped out onto the pavement, watching closely as Greg Callahan knocked on a motel room door.

Shading her eyes from the early morning sun with one hand and pointing her finger with the other, she counted. "Third door from the left."

Locking her car, Winnie marched across the busy street and directly to the motel office. "I need to know who is occupying Room 103, please," she said gruffly to the man crouched behind the counter.

"Hold on." The clerk was tying his shoe; his voice muffled. As he stood to his full height, a grin showed off straight pearly whites.

"Hey, Winnie." Surprise twinkled in his eyes. "What're you doing here?"

"Donnie?" Winnie's surprise matched the clerk's. "Aunt Paula told me you were moving back. I didn't know you worked here though."

"Well, it'll pay the bills until I get finished with school." Donnie walked around the corner and hugged his cousin tightly. "I would describe this place as fleabag but it's pretty clean."

"So can you tell me who is in Room 103?" Winnie repeated.

"I'm not really supposed to do that, privacy laws and all. Why do you ask?" Donnie had moved back behind the counter and began tapping on the computer keyboard.

Tears welled in Winnie's eyes as she told her cousin about her suspicions of Greg's infidelity.

Donnie handed her a tissue as she recounted her tale of following her husband to the motel.

"My best friend Callie thinks it was dangerous to follow him. She's afraid he could hurt me." Winnie let out a snicker at her friend's wild thoughts.

Donnie gasped. "I have an idea. We'll fudge on the rules just a bit." He picked up the lobby telephone and handed over the receiver. "Why don't you give Room 103 a wake up call?"

Winnie looked confused and then smiled evilly. Donnie dialed the number.

"Hello? Room 103? This is the Sunset Motel lobby and we are providing your nine a.m. wake up call. We trust your accommodations are satisfactory?" Winnie mustered every ounce of courage to muddle through the phone call cheerily.

"We didn't request a wake up call," Greg's voice echoed through the phone line. "Did you ask for a wake up call, honey?"

Winnie heard a woman's voice.

"Everything's okay here but you must have the wrong room. We didn't request a wake up call."

Winnie heard a woman giggle.

"Callie, stop it." Greg laughed. "I know you're eager but wait a minute." He hung up the phone.

Slamming down the receiver, Winnie Callahan ran out the lobby door and straight to Room 103.

Cousin Donnie called 9-1-1.

Author's Note

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