Page 39 of Evidence of Deceit

Tears were flowing down her face now, and he gently wiped them away. He nuzzled her neck. “Come to bed with me. Let me make love to you.”

She gave him a small smile. “I would love to, but I have a headache and need a cup of tea. It’s been a long day.” She stood up and reached into her purse and pulled out a bag. “Have one with me. I brought the special tea you like. Then we can go to bed and fuck our brains out.”

A cup of tea wasn’t what he wanted, but she was a fantastic fuck, and he felt himself getting hard. He needed toappease her, so he agreed. Hillary busied herself in the kitchenette and came back with two cups of tea.

She handed one to him and then sat across from him.

“Perfect,” he said, sipping the tea. It was an interesting blend, one that he hadn’t tasted before. He took another sip. Hillary smiled at him. He felt lightheaded. The day had been so stressful, he guessed he needed the rest. He took another sip and felt his throat swelling. What the hell?

“Hillary.” His voice sounded strained. “What’s in this tea?”

“Do you like it?”

“Something’s wrong with it.” He looked at her and saw multiple Hillarys smiling at him.

“I made it just the way you like it. It must be your imagination. Take another sip. You must be tired. Then we’ll go to bed.”

Keith took another sip, then tried to put the cup on the table. It slid out of his hand. Broke into pieces.

He could hardly breathe. Then the itching started. Welts formed on his arms and face. His throat felt like someone was strangling him. He slipped down on the sofa.

“Something … something wrong.” He struggled with the words. “Get EpiPen.”

She rushed out into the bedroom. By the time she got back, Keith was on the floor, his body covered with hives. He scratched feverishly with one hand as he clutched his swollen throat, desperately trying to get some air.

“Give me the shot,” he hissed weakly.

Hillary sat in the chair, taking her time to open the EpiPen.

“Shot.” His voice was weak.

She stared at the partially unwrapped EpiPen and then at him.

“Well, Keith,” she purred as she turned the pen around and around. “I don’t think so.”

“Please. I’ll give you whatever.” His voice sounded tinny; he was gasping for breath. “Please.”

Hillary pulled the lever on the pen. Thank God. His ordeal was almost over. “Hurry.”

Then she pushed and laughed as she watched the liquid shoot out.

Keith groaned. Why was she doing this? His heart pumped wildly, out of control. He clutched at his throat. He was weak, couldn’t move.

“You must be wondering why I’m not giving you the shot. Well, I realized when you left to come down here to chase that bitch that I was never going to be anything more than a good fuck for you. I would always be the one in the background. I don’t want that. A little, well, a lot of bee pollen ground up in your tea solves my problem.” She cackled. “If I can’t have you, you can’t have Claire.”

He feebly reached for her. The tightness in his throat made it impossible to move. He could only watch as Hillary shoved the empty syringe and paper, the pieces of broken cup, and her cup into her purse. Then she walked out the door and never looked back.

His chest tightened like a vise grip. He tried to gulp in some air but couldn’t. The pain was unbearable.

The legs of the coffee table were the last thing he saw before blackness took over.

Chapter Twenty-One

Two days had blissfully passed, and Claire and Joe were settling into a routine, dancing around the attraction they felt toward each other. A touch as they passed each other in the hallway, a shared look when they did the dishes. Claire thought Joe wanted more. For sure she did, but nothing had happened. It was wishful thinking on her part because she wouldn’t pursue him until she met with the divorce lawyer, and Joe was honorable enough not to take advantage.

She was meeting the divorce lawyer the next day. She was hopeful that Keith meant what he said about a divorce, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. There had been no more information on the mysterious man. She didn’t have a reason for the nagging suspicion that things weren’t going to go well for her.

She was on her second cup of coffee, staring out the window, when Joe’s voice came from behind her. She yelped. The coffee sloshed onto the counter and floor. “Darn. You scaredme.”

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