“Did she text him tonight?” I demanded.
“She did.”
“Give me the phone,” I said through gritted teeth. I needed to know just how much of a bastard he was. How could he lie like that? What had I done to deserve to be lied to? What had his wife, his partner in life, done to be cheated on?
Grumbling, Craven waddled back to the chair and grabbed the finger and the phone. I took both and unlocked it.
“What’s her name?” I asked. There were a lot of women’s names in his inbox, and based on the messages, any of these could be a romantic partner. Many of them were romantic partners. Just which one was his legal one?
“Caroline. I found it written on the back of that photo in his wallet.”
I looked for Caroline and found it. The last message was from today. I scanned the full conversation, and with each text, my heart cracked, shattered, and screamed for her.
Caroline: Fred, please call me. I’m bleeding.
Caroline: I really need you here. I’m scared.
Caroline: Fred, I’m going to the hospital. I can’t wait for you. I’m afraid I’m going to lose the baby.
Caroline: Why aren’t you answering the phone? I need you here!!!!!
Fred: Any update?
I looked at the times. Each of those had happened before the club. He knew his wife was in the hospital and still went out?
Caroline: Please come to the hospital. I don’t want to be alone tonight. We lost our baby.
Caroline: Fred, if you don’t come tonight, don’t come home. I’m calling my dad and changing the locks.
That last message had come through about the time we’d arrived at my room.
“That bastard.” I tossed the phone away, as if it had been the monster and not the person who owned the device.
“I shouldn’t have shown you.” Craven went to retrieve it. “We need to get rid of this.”
“We’ll just toss it in the dumpster behind the club.” I sniffled. “Motherfucker. She lost her baby and he was in bed, naked with me.”
“I mean, I get the temptation. I’d do anything to be inside you.” Craven cackled. “I think out of all the human things, I miss sex the most. The orgasms my little mound produces when I rub it fast don’t hit the spot.”
I stared at the mess I’d made for myself. Craven, Freddy, all of it. I was a walking temper tantrum who left unfixable messes wherever I went.
“This is not getting clean enough.” I sighed, tossing my brush down.
“Let’s just burn this place down,” Craven quipped, and I perked up.
“Could we? I mean, would it be easier?” My eyes lit up, picturing the flames. It was a small hotel, only six rooms and most people rented by the hour. I wasn’t even sure the other rooms had patrons. Our car was the only one in the parking lot. Not even one from the worker at the front desk.
“No, Tanis, it wouldn’t.” Craven shook his head. “Come on now. Just go shower, I’ll change clothes, and then before we go, we’ll off the front desk guy and toss him in here. Stop cleaning. We’ll make it look like a murder suicide. No biggie. How much time do we have before the convention?”
I looked at the alarm clock on the side table. Craven always knew how to clean up my messes. “Six hours; that’s enough time for a nap.”
