How to Kill Your Husband (9 page)

“You, you look
good
,” George said.

“Thanks.”

“When I saw you, I thought, I thought you were looking
all good
for me. Thought maybe you were feeling a little amorous…”

Claire looked up at him, and he cocked his head and grinned.

“Nope,” she said. “I wasn't thinking about you at all.”

George's smile fell, but he brought it back quickly. “You're really dressing like that to go out?”

Claire turned and stood straight so he could admire the full measure of her beauty. The dress fit her like a glove; accentuating her Coke-bottle figure. The fabric stopped midway down her thighs, leaving three feet worth of smooth, creamy legs. Her push-up bra was doing a very good job, and her hair was smooth and flowing.

“Are you, are you wearing makeup?” George asked.

Claire turned and grabbed the last few items she needed in her little purse.

“What's wrong with makeup?” she asked. “You like girls with makeup, don't you?”

She enjoyed watching him struggle to respond.

“Um, I, uh, yeah, I guess I do.”

“I know you do,” Claire said and winked at him. On the outside she smiled, but on the inside she sneered and despised everything about him.

It felt good to be witty, on the other side of the joke for a change. She stepped forward and gave him a very brief kiss so she wouldn't smear her lipstick.

“I gotta go, honey. Becky will—”

DING DONG!

George looked around curiously like he didn't recognize his own doorbell.

“Oops,” Claire said with a big grin. “
That's my ride,
” she sang.

She turned and left the room without another word. George followed her to the head of the stairs but didn't go down.

“Claire, what are you doing? How long are you going to be out? What about the kids?”

“I'm going to the Coco Lounge, the bar closes at two, and the kids have already eaten and bathed. Just read them a bedtime story and they'll be all right.” She didn't stop or turn to see his expression, but she wished she would have. George
never
got caught off-guard. This was so awesome, she should have taken pictures.

* * *

The Coco Lounge was a popular nightspot on the west side of town. On Friday and Saturday evenings, the manager brought in a live band and usually pulled in pretty decent crowds of middle class nine-to-fivers. They had a huge bar, a decent dance floor, and enough room to seat three hundred.

Becky and Claire walked through the doors at 9:45 p.m., and they spotted Melanie right away. She sat at the bar with her back to them, but there were only four black people in the whole building, so it wasn't too hard to find the short, chubby one. Claire sneaked up behind her friend and patted her shoulder.

“So, your husband let you out again?”

Melanie spun on her stool, and her beady eyes grew as big as cantaloupes.

“
Oh, snap
! Look at you, Claire! You got it going on in that dress!”

A few patrons turned to see, and Claire's face reddened. Melanie wore black slacks with a blue top. Becky had a one-piece schoolteacher dress that was both long and unflattering. No one else within eyeshot looked as good as Claire.

“How long you been here?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes,” Melanie said. “I bought you two shots, but I already drunk them.
Dang, Claire
. You really look good in that dress.”

“I know, right?” Becky chipped in.

“I
feel
good, too,” Claire said. “You were right. You should have seen the look on George's face when I left.”

“He was jealous, wasn't he?” Melanie asked with a grin.

“He didn't ask me to stay home, but I knew he wanted me to. He followed me to the stairs talking about,
Where are you going? What am I gonna do? What about the kids?
”

They all laughed.

“You ready to get drunk?” Melanie asked. “I'm buying your first shot. You're getting a
double
.”

“
I
wanna buy her a double,” Becky whined.

“
Girls, girls
,” Claire said. She put one arm around Becky's shoulder and threw the other over Melanie. “You can both buy me doubles.”

“That's a
quadruple
!” Becky noted.

Melanie shook her head and Claire laughed.

* * *

By one a.m. things were still flowing smoothly with the sweet, mellow buzz of inebriation. The girls sat at a table with a dozen empty glasses and bottles scattered before them. Becky was
tipsy
and more talkative than Claire ever knew her to be. Melanie was drunk; but she was that special kind of drunk, the one that makes you think you can still operate a motor vehicle. Claire was fully
wasted
and loving every minute of it.

“See…” Melanie leaned over the table with a finger in Claire's face. “See, you, you can't keep thinking you're sparter than the police.
Nobody
takes a bath with a radio these days. They know better.”

“Yeah, they do,” Becky agreed.

“Wait,” Claire said giggling. “Did you just say ‘
sparter
?'”

“Huh?”

Claire leaned on the table chuckling. “You said ‘
sparter
!' You can't even talk right.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did,” Becky said. “You said, ‘
sparter than the police
.' ”

Claire laughed even harder because Becky was trying to match Melanie's accent. Police came out
poe-leece.

“
Whatever
,” Melanie said and took another swig of her Miller Lite. “All I know is you can't hardly get away with stuff like that these days.”

“Yes you, you can,” Claire said with a finger in the air. “I've been thinking, and I think I got it…”

They all waited, but Claire didn't say anything.

“You got
what
?” Melanie asked.

“Huh?”

“See? You need to take her home,” Melanie told Becky. “She's had it.”

“No, no, no,” Claire said. “I got it. I remember now.” She sat up straight in her chair but couldn't get her eyes to focus. “What if he gets
mugged
and they
shoot him
…?” She looked around and nodded. “Yeah. Y'all can't say anything bad about
that
one.”

“You don't have a gun,” Becky said.

“And you can't hire somebody to do it, because they'll snitch,” Melanie informed her.

“And you can't do it yourself, because you could
never
shoot George,” Becky predicted.

“Yes I can,” Claire said.

“Maybe if you're drunk, but then you won't be able to aim.”

“And somebody will probably hear the shots,” Melanie said. “With your luck, you'll get pulled over right after you do it.”

“Oh, oh,” Clair had an answer for that one. “I'll leave the gun
at the scene
.” She said it as if no one had ever done anything so daring.

“They can test your skin to see if you fired at shomebody,” Melanie said.

Claire laughed, but didn't point that one out. “Poison?” she asked no one in particular.

“Way too much evidence,” Melanie said.

“He's
thirty-six years old
,” Becky said. “They'll do a
really good
autopsy.”

“Probably,” Claire said. “Ooh, I could strangle him! And then, and then y'all help me move the body. We'll tie him up with ropes and blankets and weigh him down with bricks, and we'll send him to the bottom of the Trinity River.” She nodded. That was it.

But Melanie shook her head. “You're too little to strangle George, first off.”

“And
I'm
not helping carry a dead guy,” Becky said.

“Me neither,” Melanie said.

“And even if you get him in the river, the police aren't going to leave you alone,” Becky said. “Until they find a body, you're going to be the number-one suspect.”

“And you can't get any insurance money until
after
they find the body,” Melanie said.

Claire put her head down. “Y'all just don't want me to kill my husband,” she moaned.

Melanie laughed.

“What about what we talked about earlier?” Becky asked. “Remember? You can kill him
without
killing him…”

“The slow way,” Claire said without much enthusiasm.

“What are y'all talking about?” Melanie asked.

“I was telling her about my divorce lawyer,” Becky said. “You know I got my ex's truck, and I got the house and the kids, too.”

Melanie grinned broadly. “Yeah, Claire. That doesn't sound like a bad idea. You already got proof he's cheating. You could get him for the house, the kids—”

“His Navigator,” Becky piped in.

“The lake house,” Claire said. “And his Harley.
And
the boats.” She lifted her head slowly and her eyes widened too. “You know…George has a lot of shit
;
accounts everywhere, stocks and bonds, a couple time shares…”

“That could all be
yours
,” Becky said with a conniving smile.

“Y'all got boats?” Melanie asked.

Claire frowned as she really considered that avenue for the first time. “You know what?” she said. “I think it would be better to just divorce his ass. I always thought of court as some long, drawn-out thing. But it might be the best way to go.”

“Especially if you get him first,” Becky said.

Melanie nodded.

“That's all good, except for one thing,” Claire said.

“What?” they both asked.

“I don't even know if he's cheating on me.”

Melanie smacked her lips. “Girl, don't start going
backwards
. I'd like to think George is a good man, too, but we saw what we saw.”

“What did we see?” Claire asked.

“We saw him pick his bitch up from work and take her to dinner,” Melanie reminded her.

“We saw him pick a
woman
up and take her to a
restaurant
,” Claire clarified. “We don't know who that woman is or what their relationship is.”

Melanie shook her head. “Claire, I know you don't want it to be over, but you need to quit being such—”

“No, she's right,” Becky said. She was deep in thought. “What if that was a business meeting? What if it was a client? What if that was the first time they met each other?”

“If
if
was a
fifth
we'd all be drunk,” Claire said.

“Well, why would he lie?” Melanie asked. “He told Claire he was playing poker.”

“What if that was someone Claire knew?” Becky pondered. “What if that was his cousin and they were meeting secretly to plan something special for Claire?”

Melanie chuckled. “You living in
Never-never-land
.”

“No,” Claire said. “I mean, she
is
, but we don't know for sure what was going on. I don't think I have enough evidence to talk to a lawyer.”

“I think you should call him anyway, and he'll tell you what you need,” Becky suggested.

“All right,” Melanie said, and her smile came back. “So that means we got to do another stakeout?”

Claire sighed. “I guess we do…”

Becky clapped her hands. “
Goody
!—Wait. This isn't going to be another
sad
stakeout like last time. That was
depressing
. I thought it was going to be fun.”

“I promise I won't cry,” Claire said with an unsteady hand in the air. “I give you my word. Now, help me up.”

Becky did, but Claire wasn't very steady on her feet.

“Where are you going?” Melanie asked. “I
know
you're not getting more to drink.”