Capital Offense

Forrest Muller took a long pull off of his Bloody Mary, then stepped onto the green of the eighteenth hole. It was only ten-thirty, and they were almost finished. A great way to start the day. Warner thought savoring the fragrance of freshly mowed grass. The cloudless sky held the promise of Indian summer.

Forrest Muller was an old family friend as well as Carolyn’s gynecologist. He knelt down to gauge the lay of the green. “How’s Carolyn?”

“She’s doing fine, a little stressed maybe. But the victory yesterday gave her a boost.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been worried about her since her last appointment.” He lined up his putt. “I had no idea how bad the scarring was until we did the hysterosalpingogram She was so terribly upset that the damage wasn’t reparable, that it left me concerned.” Forrest stood and took his position beside the ball. “I know how badly she wanted children.”

Warner froze. What the hell was Forrest talking about? Embarrassment stained his cheeks. When did she have a doctor’s appointment? His political instincts took over, covering his ignorance. “Both of us did. It was quite a shock.”

Forrest brought his club back a few times. reaching himself. “I’d like to get my hands on the son of a bitch who botched that abortion. He should have his license pulled. I just wish you’d brought her to me.”

Shock knocked Warner off balance. Abortion? He dropped to a squat, leaning on his club. Oh my God. His mind reeled. Why had Carolyn done this? Bile rose in his throat. He choked it back, then spit to clear the acid taste from his mouth. Tears threatened. Closing his eyes, he fought for breath. He hadn’t known anything about this. He hadn’t known she was pregnant. And now their baby was dead.

***

Friday night. Warner sat sipping what was left of his bottle of Jack Daniels. The phone rang again; he stared at the answering machine on his desk. The red message light blinked unrelentingly, the LCD display showed thirteen messages. Everyone, it seemed, was looking for him. Since his golf game that morning, he’d deliberately disappeared, easily dumping his state trooper escort.

Warner stared at the whiskey bottle, then began peeling off the label. Why in God’s name had she done it? She’d made a monumental decision for them both, a decision that killed their child and probably denied their chance for others and she hadn’t bothered to consult him. His rage rose again but didn’t break the surface; he was too numbed by the drink.

Their chance of a family was destroyed. No children. Not now – not ever. He couldn’t decide which was more heartbreaking – the fact that they’d never have children, or her deception.

How could she have done this? The answer seemed simple; she had done it for her own selfish reasons. Otherwise, she would have confided in him. Politically, he preached that it was a woman’s right to choose what to do with her body. But didn’t husbands have rights too? Hadn’t they discussed this time and again?

For years, his father, Edmund, had warned him. “Don’t trust women. Especially smart women. Carolyn isn’t the exception, she’s the rule.”

How stupid could he have been? Warner grasped the Waterford glass so tightly it began to crack. He thew it hard against the wall.

The door to his den burst open. “I heard a noise. sir. Are you all right?” Maria, the housekeeper. hurried over to the crystal shards on the floor. “I’ll clean this up for you. sir.”

“I’m fine. Maria. Just leave it. You can get it tomorrow.”

Maria started for the door. “It’ll only take me a minute. Not to worry. sir. I’ll get the dust pan-”

“I said, leave it!”

Maria stopped, startled by his outburst. “Yes, sir.” She paused. “Everyone is looking for you. I’ll call Mrs. Lane. She’s been worried.”

“Don’t call her.”

“Oh. but sir she’s so worried.”

“You heard me. Maria. Do not

call her.” He softened his voice. “I’ll do it myself. But thank you for offering.”

“Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No. Thank you. Go home and have a nice evening. I’ll call Mrs. Lane at the office. I’m sure she’ll be home soon.”

Maria gave him a weak smile. “Good night, sir.” She backed out of the room.

“Good night.” Warner glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty. Should he call Carolyn? What could he possibly say to her? Why did you do it? He couldn’t imagine a reason he could forgive. He placed his hands over his face. If only she’d told him about the pregnancy. They’d already be parents. He’d be a father. Warner slammed his fist on the desk. Deception twisted his thoughts and shredded his love for his wife.

A half hour later, he heard the door to his office open. He lifted his gaze.

Carolyn stood in the doorway, arms akimbo, a look of concern on her face. “Where have you been all day? Your office has been in an uproar. They expected you this morning. You missed a full schedule of appointments.”

“I needed some time alone. I went driving. Who told you I was home?”