CHAPTER SIX
God bless the weekend, Faith thought. She was drained from the events of the past two days. Darrell Boscorelli's death had pushed the 55th precinct into overdrive. There was a $500,000 reward for the head of "The Duct Tape Killer" or for information leading to his arrest. Bosco had been wired to the max, turning down the Lieu's offer for time off.
"And let someone else bring in this jag-off?" he had replied, coldly. "Not a rat's chance in hell. I'm gonna drag him into this house by his balls."
Faith rubbed her forehead, mentally fighting off a migraine. She was worried about Bosco. He had volunteered to pull extra shifts to help catch the killer, against Faith's misgivings. She was afraid the stress might be too much for him to handle.
And then there was Emily and Fred. Fred had been drinking less this week, much to Faith's surprise and thin delight. Emily on the other hand was avoiding Faith like the plague. After numerous talks and confrontations, Emily wasn't copping to the stealing or the illicit goods. Faith hoped that the accusations would be enough to keep Emily straight until she figured out just what to do.
Fred had taken the kids to a baseball game, leaving Faith alone with her thoughts. She hoped he'd come home sober. Faith started to reminisce on the early days of the Yokas household, before Fred started drinking. The happy memories brought tears to her eyes and she got a sudden impulse to flip through some old photo albums. Hopping off the couch, she padded barefoot into her bedroom.
The photo albums were kept underneath the bed, Faith having to get down on all fours to dig them out. She reached for the first stack, but her fingers connected with something cool and silky. Grabbing it, she pulled it out for inspection. In her grasp was a bright pink, satin thong.
What is it with the beds in this house, she thought wildly, in complete shock. She rubbed the material together trying to sort out her confusion. How did it get under the bed. More importantly, whose was it?!
Faith sat on her behind and leaned against the bed, surrendering to the assault of her migraine. The panties were definitely not hers. Emily? She checked the size. Too big for Emily's little rump. Faith fought off a wave of nausea as the implication became clear. Son of a bitch.
He was cheating on her. Had to be. Never in her life had Faith owned such a risqué pair of undies. Faith felt the tide of humiliation sweep over her as she thought about his drinking and the late nights and early mornings. He was getting more than one brain blitzed on these overnights.
Fred found her like that over two hours later, sitting in a trance, clutching the wretched thong.
"Faith.are you alright?" he asked, alarmed.
Faith slowly opened her eyes and stared at her husband of fourteen years. "Do I look alright?" she whispered.
Fred shook his head. "What's that in your hand?"
Quick as lightening, Faith sprung up and thrust the panties into his face. "The bitch forgot them. Or was it a present?" she spat venomously.
Fred took a staggering step back as the item came into focus. "Faith where in the world did you get those?"
"Don't play with me!" she screamed. "Who is she? You brought her here? To my home? My BED?!"
Fred was dumbfounded as he struggled to make sense of his wife's ranting. "You, you think those are mine.or have something to do with me?"
"What, ya get so drunk ya can't remember her name? Just tell me what she looks like, I'll do the rest."
Fred threw Faith a bizarre look. Despite himself he was getting mad at her baseless accusations. "They aren't mine! I don't know how those got in here! Did you buy them and just forgot or something?"
"You cheating bastard. The least you could do is be a man and admit it. Go on Fred. Admit it."
Fred looked at his wife. She has lost her mind. "I'm not cheating on you Faith. I go out, have a few with the boys, but that's it. That's it."
"I see where Emily gets her lying streak from," she said snidely.
This was getting out of hand. Fred started to look closely at his wife. First the stuff in Em's room, now this? "Honey, we need to calm down," he began tentatively, not sure how to approach this. "Things have been stressful around here lately, I think it would be a good idea for us all to go talk to someone, learn how to handle that stress."
Faith smiled grimly. "I know exactly how to handle my stress. You and your daughter need to drop off the face of this earth. That would definitely relieve me of my stress."
"You need to talk to someone Faith,' Fred asserted.
Faith stared at him. "You think I'm crazy? Do you think I'm the crazy one? No, what's making me crazy is that everybody seems to think I'm the crazy one!"
This was a lost battle and he knew it. He needed a drink. Hell, he needed a couple of drinks. Just enough to help him sift through this problem. Whatever the problem was.
"I'm going out Faith."
"Say hello to the whore for me."
God bless the weekend, Faith thought. She was drained from the events of the past two days. Darrell Boscorelli's death had pushed the 55th precinct into overdrive. There was a $500,000 reward for the head of "The Duct Tape Killer" or for information leading to his arrest. Bosco had been wired to the max, turning down the Lieu's offer for time off.
"And let someone else bring in this jag-off?" he had replied, coldly. "Not a rat's chance in hell. I'm gonna drag him into this house by his balls."
Faith rubbed her forehead, mentally fighting off a migraine. She was worried about Bosco. He had volunteered to pull extra shifts to help catch the killer, against Faith's misgivings. She was afraid the stress might be too much for him to handle.
And then there was Emily and Fred. Fred had been drinking less this week, much to Faith's surprise and thin delight. Emily on the other hand was avoiding Faith like the plague. After numerous talks and confrontations, Emily wasn't copping to the stealing or the illicit goods. Faith hoped that the accusations would be enough to keep Emily straight until she figured out just what to do.
Fred had taken the kids to a baseball game, leaving Faith alone with her thoughts. She hoped he'd come home sober. Faith started to reminisce on the early days of the Yokas household, before Fred started drinking. The happy memories brought tears to her eyes and she got a sudden impulse to flip through some old photo albums. Hopping off the couch, she padded barefoot into her bedroom.
The photo albums were kept underneath the bed, Faith having to get down on all fours to dig them out. She reached for the first stack, but her fingers connected with something cool and silky. Grabbing it, she pulled it out for inspection. In her grasp was a bright pink, satin thong.
What is it with the beds in this house, she thought wildly, in complete shock. She rubbed the material together trying to sort out her confusion. How did it get under the bed. More importantly, whose was it?!
Faith sat on her behind and leaned against the bed, surrendering to the assault of her migraine. The panties were definitely not hers. Emily? She checked the size. Too big for Emily's little rump. Faith fought off a wave of nausea as the implication became clear. Son of a bitch.
He was cheating on her. Had to be. Never in her life had Faith owned such a risqué pair of undies. Faith felt the tide of humiliation sweep over her as she thought about his drinking and the late nights and early mornings. He was getting more than one brain blitzed on these overnights.
Fred found her like that over two hours later, sitting in a trance, clutching the wretched thong.
"Faith.are you alright?" he asked, alarmed.
Faith slowly opened her eyes and stared at her husband of fourteen years. "Do I look alright?" she whispered.
Fred shook his head. "What's that in your hand?"
Quick as lightening, Faith sprung up and thrust the panties into his face. "The bitch forgot them. Or was it a present?" she spat venomously.
Fred took a staggering step back as the item came into focus. "Faith where in the world did you get those?"
"Don't play with me!" she screamed. "Who is she? You brought her here? To my home? My BED?!"
Fred was dumbfounded as he struggled to make sense of his wife's ranting. "You, you think those are mine.or have something to do with me?"
"What, ya get so drunk ya can't remember her name? Just tell me what she looks like, I'll do the rest."
Fred threw Faith a bizarre look. Despite himself he was getting mad at her baseless accusations. "They aren't mine! I don't know how those got in here! Did you buy them and just forgot or something?"
"You cheating bastard. The least you could do is be a man and admit it. Go on Fred. Admit it."
Fred looked at his wife. She has lost her mind. "I'm not cheating on you Faith. I go out, have a few with the boys, but that's it. That's it."
"I see where Emily gets her lying streak from," she said snidely.
This was getting out of hand. Fred started to look closely at his wife. First the stuff in Em's room, now this? "Honey, we need to calm down," he began tentatively, not sure how to approach this. "Things have been stressful around here lately, I think it would be a good idea for us all to go talk to someone, learn how to handle that stress."
Faith smiled grimly. "I know exactly how to handle my stress. You and your daughter need to drop off the face of this earth. That would definitely relieve me of my stress."
"You need to talk to someone Faith,' Fred asserted.
Faith stared at him. "You think I'm crazy? Do you think I'm the crazy one? No, what's making me crazy is that everybody seems to think I'm the crazy one!"
This was a lost battle and he knew it. He needed a drink. Hell, he needed a couple of drinks. Just enough to help him sift through this problem. Whatever the problem was.
"I'm going out Faith."
"Say hello to the whore for me."
