The Blonde Ch. 02

"You're about the best I've ever had, too. Come back to bed, Jack."

I looked wildly around the room. Her clothes and mine were scattered all over the floor and the chairs. Bewildered, I put my hand on my dick. It felt dry--certainly not sticky the way I'd expect it to be after a night of fucking.

"You need to go," I said. "Put your clothes on."

"But Jack, we can--"

Ignoring her, I grabbed the phone on the desk. "This is Jack Hitchcock in Room 721. I need a doctor sent to my room as soon as possible--right away! Make sure he brings a kit for a blood test. It's a matter of life and death."

Turning back to Karen I said, " I mean it, Karen--you need to go. I don't know what your game is, but there's no way I had sex with you last night, and I'm certainly not about to do it now." Ignoring her squawks of protest I gathered up her clothes, took her by the arm and pushed her into the bathroom to dress. Then I found my boxers and tee shirt and pulled them on.

A minute or two later Karen emerged with her clothes on, saying, "honestly, Jack, I don't know what you're--"

"Just can it, Karen--or whoever the hell you are." I grabbed her purse and put it in her hands, walked her to the door and pushed her out into the hall, closing the door behind her. It didn't occur to me until a few minutes afterwards that I should have looked at her driver's license.

An agonizing 20 minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and a gray-haired man with a doctor's bag said, "I'm Dr. Rogers--what's the emergency?"

"I was having dinner in the restaurant downstairs last night and things went woozy. The next thing I know I woke up in bed this morning. I'm positive I've been drugged and I want you to take a blood sample for testing."

He tried several times to talk me out of it but I was adamant, and finally Dr. Rogers took my blood and spent twenty minutes examining me. Afterwards he said, reluctantly, "well, it's possible. Your story is kind of crazy, but some of your vitals are a little odd. I wouldn't do any driving for a few hours, and have your doctor at home check you out in a couple of days. Give me your address and I'll arrange for the lab results to be sent to you--it will be a few days."

On the plane home I thought hard. As crazy as it seemed, there was no doubt that someone had set me up--and it didn't make sense that it could be anything besides an attempt to convince Tommie I'd been cheating on her. Which of course must be what that stupid episode in the bar had been. My first suspect would have been Damon--except for the fact that he'd been the one to rescue her when Don Harrington drugged her.

When I got back to Indianapolis I called in and took the rest of the day off, then I phoned Tommie and asked her to come home early. Her first question was "where were you last night? Why didn't you call me?"

"Please, honey--something bizarre happened. Can you leave now and come home?"

When Tommie arrived I asked her to sit down and I told her the whole story.

She was incredulous--and frankly suspicious. "You're telling me a beautiful client drugged you, and then the next morning you woke up in bed with her, both of you naked--but nothing happened?"

I spoke slowly and firmly, looking right into her face. "Tap--I love you. More than I have ever loved anyone. I have NEVER cheated on you, never touched another woman since we've been married--and I never would.

"This may sound like the world's most preposterous story--but I swear to you it's true.

"Please, please trust me. I am not an asshole like some of the guys in your past."

I stopped; and we gazed at one another for a long minute. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and Tommie threw her arms around me and started to sob.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she cried, her head on my shoulder. "I do believe you--I've just been hurt so many times..."

She cried, and I held her, and after awhile she felt a little better. We talked about it, and agreed that someone had to be setting me up.

"I've already had Minestra look into 'Karen,' or whoever the fuck she actually is. They called the company in Chicago--it turned out the entire business meeting was a hoax. They have no interest in buying a piece of Minestra, and nobody named Karen working for them.

"Is there anybody at Grand Valley you don't trust? Anyone who's come onto you?"

She laughed, and said, "only about twenty guys! That's just how it is, Jack. But no one I can think of who's been especially persistent about it.

"Let me give it some thought--and maybe I'll ask Damon if there's anyone who occurs to him."

****************

We had a good weekend, a couple of quiet days together. Tommie seemed reassured, somehow, closer to me than before. We made love several times and spent a lot of time talking together. In light not only of my drugging but of the crazy business with that woman in the bar, she finally seemed to believe that somebody was targeting me--or us.

On Tuesday the lab report came in the mail showing that I'd had traces of rohypnol and some other barbiturate in my system; and I showed it to Tommie as soon as she came home.

She read it very carefully, frowning. And then to my relief she laughed with me about it. And she said, "I'm going to speak to Damon about it tomorrow, Jack. Now that we know for sure that you were drugged, maybe he'll be able to have someone investigate."

But Wednesday night everything was different. Tommie came home with a haunted look and didn't want to talk to me.

"What? What's wrong? Did you have a bad day?"

"It's nothing, Jack," she said, not even looking at me. "I just need some time to be alone." And she skipped dinner and went into the bedroom to watch TV. I went in around 8:00 but she wouldn't talk to me, and when I went back around 9:30 to check on her, Tommie was already asleep.

On Thursday she left for work before I was even out of the shower--and during the day she emailed to say she was working late and wouldn't be home until around 9:00. When she came in she was quiet, just like the night before.

I followed her into the bedroom after a few minutes, took the TV remote from her and switched the set off.

"Tap--what's going on?"

"Nothing, Jack, I'm just tired. I need to relax, just let me watch a little TV, okay?"

"No, honey, it's not okay. It seems like one day you and I are fine, and the next you're suspicious and distant and don't trust me anymore. Has something happened?"

She gazed at me. I could tell she didn't want to talk to me, but I wasn't about to let her off the hook.

"Listen, Jack. You have to admit that a lot of weird stuff has happened lately, and frankly--well, it's hard to believe that there could be this much smoke and no fire."

I stared at her. "But Tap--I've told you everything, explained everything that's happened. I am NOT cheating on you! I am not doing ANYTHING wrong, or anything that would undermine our marriage."

"I'm trying to believe that--I really am. But it's not so easy, Jack.

"Listen," she said. "It's been a long week. Let's get through tomorrow, and this weekend we'll sit down and talk through it again--all of it. And we'll decide what to do. Maybe we need counseling or something. But we'll work it out together."

I agreed instantly. "It's a deal. Counseling, anything you want. I need you to trust me, honey. And I'll do whatever it takes."

"Okay," she said--and she picked up the remote and turned the TV back on. I'd been dismissed.

Friday morning, not much had changed--she was quiet and uncommunicative, despite all my efforts to talk to her. I left for work feeling deeply concerned, and thinking that I'd make us a nice dinner that night and see if we couldn't just have a relaxing evening together.

But Tommie never came home Friday night.