Last night out

“Where were you last night?” Rhonda asked.

“I had to work late.” Pete said.

Her face got tingly and warm and her jaw clinched tight then released in involuntary spasms. She forced herself to breath.  “I called before the end of your shift and you had already left.” 

“I’m not the only Pete on shift. Pete Sanders left early last night.”

God how she loved this man. She wished he’d explain away her doubt, “I asked for you specifically. So where did you go?” She was fairly certain where he went; the evidence was in her packet.

“I just had to get away from work. I had a headache. I drove around to clear my head.”

“Why did you lie to me?” Her whole body was ridged. It was as if her body would burst from the pressure.  How could she love a man so much and wish him dead at the same time.

“I didn’t want you to think I quit my job.”

Did he really think she was that damn stupid? That had to be one of the worst excuses ever.  A shaky hand dug into her pocket.  His cell phone appeared and she tossed it to him. “I bet Crystal knows where you were last night.” She paused to watch his reaction. He looked as if his memory had just been wiped clean. He just stood there, blank.

She used a different feminine voice and recalled to him the text message she had memorized, “I’m lonely tonight Peter. I need you. All of you.  Hurry, before I’m not in the mood.”

“Was it good Pete?”

“Yes.”

She was faintly aware of the high pitch ringing in her ears and clueless about her tunnel vision. She pulled the gun from behind her back. She never heard the bang.

300 words