“Actually, I might pay good money to see that.”
Mitch and Dan met up with Rett and Mike at the country club, praying that the men kept their word and would meet them there. They’d been trying to speak to managers and busboys for hours with no luck.
“I’m sorry you boys have been getting doors closed in your face,” said a man. “I’m Wilton Mathers. I own this club. My wife seems to be one of those in collusion with Gloria.”
“Delilah?” asked Dan.
“Delilah. My third, and it appears, final wife,” he said with a sad smile. “They’ve been meeting here for a few years now, three or four times a week. When they’re not meeting here, they’re meeting in one of their homes or on a girls trip. We all just thought they were spending money as usual, and honestly, I think we were all happy they were out of our hair.”
“You don’t think those things now?” asked Mitch.
“Let’s just say a few of the cooks and busboys are no longer with us. When they found out we were investigating everyone, they left. Those that remained didn’t know anything for sure but suspected that our wives had been paying them to put things in the food and drink.”
“No one suspected anything?” asked Dan. “No offense, but you’re all smart men. Businessmen, lawyers, doctors, professors. None of this was suspicious to you?”
“Stupid, right?” frowned one of the men.
“Not stupid,” said Rett. “When you love a woman, you often overlook little things and sometimes the big ones too. You’re all over sixty and probably thought time was catching up with you.”
“Well, we won’t be making that mistake again,” said another man. When Doc and Cruz walked in, the men stared at one another, almost in fear.
“Don’t worry. They’re with us. They’ll be taking blood from each of you, doing some basic medical exams, and we should have a comprehensive idea of what’s been given to each of you. If you’re on medication, please let them know so they can test what’s been given to you.”
With the ballroom at the club locked and only the men of SW and the club inside, it was theirs to do as they wished. With tables of lab equipment hidden behind curtained partitions, they were able to work quickly and efficiently in the space.
Wilton Mathers had his most trusted chefs bring in food for everyone while they waited for the results.
“Gentlemen, it appears that your wives did their research or most likely had help in the form of Mrs. Talbot’s son, the doctor,” said Cruz. The men all stared at one another, shaking their heads. “We’ve moved him to a safe location so that his wife cannot find him. If any of you are concerned, we will do the same for you.”
“Isn’t that being a bit of a coward?” asked one of the men.
“If staying alive is cowardice, I guess we’d all be cowards,” said Doc. “There is no shame in taking yourself out of harm’s way. These women are organized, strategic and planning their next moves. I wouldn’t screw with your own lives.”
“You make them sound so devious,” frowned an elderly man. He was probably the oldest of the group.
“Mr. Jorgenson, these women are devious. Many, we believe, have killed previous husbands and were certainly on their way to killing all of you,” said Rett.
“He’s right,” said Cruz staring at the reports being spit out by the computer. “You’ve all been given drugs that directly conflict with your current medications. If you weren’t on medication, they were delivering large doses of narcotics in your food and drink. You most likely experienced episodes of dizziness, nausea, headaches, perhaps even unexplained vomiting or diarrhea, even rapid heart rate.
“Men being men, you most likely blew it off believing you were just getting old. That’s what they were hoping for. I’m sorry but your wives were out to kill you. Mr. Talbot has worked with our legal team and changed his will.”
“I’d like to do the same,” said Mr. Wallace.
“Me too,” said Mr. Wright.
“I think we might just rent a bus and follow you boys,” said Mathers.
“No need,” smiled Mitch. “We’ve got a plane ready to take us all back to safety. If all of your wives are in Charleston, you can grab a bag and leave a note that you’re gone on business for a few days.”
All of the men looked resigned to their fate but sad by what their lives had become.
“What do we do about Gloria’s son, the one killing people and selling drugs?” asked Wallace. Mitch looked at the man with a stern expression.
“You let us worry about him. Believe me, he’ll get exactly what he deserves.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Yoz? I need some more Demerol for treatment room three,” said Alden.
