Body of Evidence (Marcus Douglas 2)

“This is the third time this week, Scott. This is starting to get old.”

“I know, baby. But Abraham likes to have these dinner meetings. What can I tell you; the guy loves to eat. You know how important this is?”

“Yeah, I do, but—,” Panthea started.

“You know how big a deal this is gonna be for me—for us, baby.”

“I understand, but I was hoping that we could do something tonight,” Panthea lied.

The truth was the only reason she was concerned was because she figured he was having an affair. Otherwise, she would be just as content to spend the evening with a good book and a glass or two of wine. The spark had gone from their relationship; at least it had for her. Apparently it had for Scott too.

Panthea had met Scott when she first moved to Atlanta from Texas. At the time, Scott was in construction, and his business was just getting ready to take off. He swept Panthea off her feet, wined and dined her, showered her with expensive gifts and weekend getaways. They married one year to the day from the day they met. The wedding was fabulous, and afterwards, they caught a flight to Los Angeles then boarded a cruise to the Hawaiian Islands. That was eight years ago.

Things really took off for Scott in the years that followed. He expanded his construction business and moved in to real estate developing. As business boomed, Scott had less and less time to spend with Panthea. It bothered her at first. Panthea had become accustomed to Scott treating her a certain way and now things had changed between them. Scott was always busy and rarely home. After a while, Panthea adjusted and found things to occupy her time and her mind. She never thought he was cheating on her, until now.

A woman just knows these things.

“Do you wanna come with me?” Scott asked, knowing what she’d say.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. I know how much you hate these business dinners. You’d just be bored, and it really does get to be a distraction.”

Panthea’s eyes narrowed. “What gets to be a distraction, Scott?” she asked with her hands on her hips.

“Come on, Panthea, you know how you get. First you get fidgety and start playing with the silverware, and the

n comes those deep, have-pity-on-me-and-take-me-home sighs. You remember the time you were tapping the water glass with your knife and knocked it in Paulson’s lap?”

Panthea smiled to herself remembering that she did it on purpose and how effective it was. They left the restaurant shortly after. “That’s not the point, Scott, and you know it.”

“What is the point, Panthea? Because I really don’t see it.”

“You wanna know what the point is? It’s these late night meetings. I don’t understand why you can’t meet him during the day?” she asked.

“Abraham is a very busy man. I guess he’s busy all day. But next time, I’ll insist that we meet during the day. But you know how it is with guys like Abraham—the more they drink, the bigger the vision. The bigger the vision, the bigger the check. C’mon, baby, we’ve been through this with guys like Abraham before.” Scott put his arms around her. Panthea struggled a bit, more for appearances than anything else, and then she settled down.

“Hey, you remember Jack Waitley?”

“Yes,” Panthea said and let out a deep sigh.

“He wanted to meet every night for a month.”

“I thought it was two,” Panthea pouted.

“It might have been.” Scott paused and reflected. “But anyway, in the end, that deal bought us this house.”

With its three fireplaces, vaulted ceilings and hardwood floors on the main level, Old World craftsmanship punctuated every corner of their stately home in Sandy Springs. It had six bedrooms, six full baths, two half baths and wall-to-wall carpet on the second story. There was a whirlpool bath, double vanity, walk-in closet and a separate shower in the master suite. The house had an eat-in kitchen, full basement, and a three-car garage. There was even a Jacuzzi on the deck.

“Scott you know I love this house, and I appreciate what it takes to live the way we do, but please try to see things my way. Why couldn’t you have at least let me know about this sooner?”

“You know—last minute,” Scott said and tried to get around Panthea again.

“Why is it always got to be so last minute?”

“Baby, please,” Scott looked at his watch. “I gotta go, but I promise,” he said and kissed her on the cheek, “when this is over, we’ll take a nice long trip. Anywhere you want.”

Panthea rolled her eyes and stepped aside. “Whatever, Scott,” she said as Scott walked by her. “Last time you said that, we ended up spending a week in Cleveland with your bum sister.”