Murder on the Rocks

CHAPTER 1

To your left! someone shouted and a bright flash passed Martin. He watched the spandex clad twenty-something woman pump her buns of steel down the jogging trail. He increased his pace, easily catching up and drawing alongside the young woman.

Later, as he headed home to a soothing hot shower, he smiled and glanced at the phone number the pretty young jogger had given him. When it came to women, Martin Feldstein was as smooth as baby oil and twice as slick.

You bastard! You had her here...in our house ...probably in our bed...damn you!

Trapped in a corner of the shower, Martin Feldstein wiped water from his eyes and recognized the shrieking storm as his wife, Hurricane Vivian. Dressed in white from head to toe, it was easy to spot the ruby red talons heading for his genitals. But Martin was quick, even soaking wet. He side-stepped his wife’s assault and grabbed her extended arm, twisting it roughly as he hauled her into the stall and held her under the stream of water. He turned off the shower with his free hand while pinning the struggling Vivian against the wall with the other.

A simple ‘Hi Honey I’m Home’ would do nicely. He dragged her out of the stall and threw a thick towel over her head, then shoved her across the room and grabbed a towel for himself. Martin secured the towel around his torso and plunked down on the toilet. Vivian had recovered a fragment of her usual icy composure and was leaning against the sink finger-fluffing her damp curly blonde hair. The flash of her long red nails caught Martin’s eye and caused an involuntary flinch in his groin.

Now, what the hell is this all about?

Don’t play innocent with me, growled Vivian, you had your two-bit slut here. Don’t bother denying it. I found this in the hot tub! Vivian pulled her fist out of a pocket in her dress. She opened it and displayed a large, distinctive gold hoop earring.

I know this belongs to your gypsy whore because I’ve seen her wearing them. Vivian threw the earring at Martin and stomped out of the bathroom. She flounced down on the chaise lounge in their bedroom and grabbed the phone.

Martin slipped into a terry robe and wandered into the bedroom mildly curious about the call his wife was making. Vivian raked him with a scathing glance then spoke into the phone. This is Mrs. Feldstein, dear. Let me speak to Patrick. Honey dripped from each syllable, but the look in her eyes betrayed the poison hidden in her words.

Martin raised his eyebrows, Don’t tell me you’re going to burden poor old Patrick with our domestic drudgery.

Patrick, my dear, how are you? Sorry to bother you darling, but I would like to drop by your office as soon as possible. That’s right, it’s rather urgent. I want to file divorce proceedings against my cheating asshole of a husband!

The family attorney never heard the reason for Vivian’s call since Martin had grabbed the phone cord and yanked it from the wall jack the minute he heard the word file.

Vivian laughed at this reaction, but the sound died in her throat when she saw the look on his face. He lashed out with the phone cord and caught Vivian across the face, whip fashion. The cord stung and left an angry red welt across her perfect cheek.

Vivian retaliated with a shot to Martin’s mid-section with the receiver she was still holding. Martin doubled over and sank to the floor. He sat there gasping until he could get his breath.

I still don’t know what the hell the big deal is with all this, he gasped. We’ve both had our little diversions for years. How long have you been wallowing around with good old Cal? Almost a year now, isn’t it? That’s a record for you, darling. They don’t usually last more than six months or so. What’s wrong, did Cal cut you off? Again the smirk grazed Martin’s lips.

Cal couldn’t cut me off even if he wanted to. The poor fool is in love with me. She spat the words at her husband.

You know why I’m upset, you broke the rules. You cheated. We both agreed we would never bring them here. This is our home for God’s sake. We were never supposed to bring our diversions, as you call them, here. And I’ve kept the promise. I’ve never brought anyone here, not to the house, and not to our bed. What about you, did you have your Mexican trash in our bed? Did you? Vivian’s voice began to reach storm pitch again. I’ll divorce you, and I’ll take everything you have!

Martin had enough. He sprang up and grabbed the shrieking Vivian. His grip was like steel bands tightening on her wrists. He jerked her to him, and the murderous look in his eyes paralyzed her.

Get one thing straight, you will never get a penny from me. If you leave, you will go with the clothes on you back and nothing more. If you try to make trouble, you’ll disappear, poof, just like that. No more Vivian.

This declaration was made calmly and confidently, no theatrics, no hysterics. Vivian knew her husband was deadly serious. She had seen Martin use his wealth and power like magic wands to destroy people. If he chose to make her disappear, she had no doubt it would happen.

Martin released her and began to dress. It was not convenient to meet elsewhere. Normally I wouldn’t have brought Rainy here, but my schedule was just too tight.

Tighter than she is, I’ll bet. It was a cheap shot, but Vivian couldn’t resist it.

Martin laughed. He actually enjoyed his wife’s trashy wit. Very good darling. Now run along and tell Marcia she can go to her daughter’s this morning. I’ll be dining out tonight and I assume you have plans so she won’t have to bother with dinner.

He treated her to a dazzling smile, but it never reached his eyes, and Vivian understood the warning she saw there. The discussion was closed, and it was not to be brought up again.

The discussion might be over, but Vivian would not let the violation of the rules go unpunished. She headed for the kitchen to pass along Martin’s instructions to their housekeeper, but her mind was on other matters. The time had come, Martin must be dealt with. Vivian’s concentration was riveted on the future, or rather, Martin’s lack of one.

Vivian returned from the kitchen and headed for the liquor cart in the living-room. She grabbed a glass, filled it with whisky, and dropped in two ice cubes while her mind worked on the problem of eliminating Martin.

Since divorce was out of the question, Martin would have to die. There was no doubt about it. He would have to go and the sooner the better. But how to do it without getting caught, that was the problem. Vivian sloshed the whiskey in her glass and the ice cubes clinked. She sipped the amber liquor and let it trickle down her throat. Vivian liked the way it burned going down. She prowled the livingroom, her green eyes narrowed to slits as she considered then rejected various methods of getting rid of her husband.

Vivian had never committed murder before, but the prospect of it didn’t bother her at all. It was simply a means to an end, Martin’s end. But how to do it without getting caught, that was the question.

Vivian tossed back the rest of the drink and went to the liquor cart for another one. Her brow creased into a frown as she absent-mindedly poured the expensive liquor Martin was so fond of into the cut crystal tumbler, then reached for the ice tongs.

She plopped the first cube into the tumbler and reached in the silver bucket for a second. It clinked against the glass as she dropped it on top of the first cube. Her emerald eyes took on a hard glitter, and her ruby lips curved into a sly smile. She raised her glass in a toast to her reflection in the gilt mirror hanging above the liquor cart. Vivian Feldstein had an idea, and it was a killer.

CHAPTER 2

The trip from the Feldstein house to Martin’s office in the center of Fort Collins took about twenty minutes. A fact that annoyed Martin rather more each time he got behind the wheel of his beautifully groomed Jaguar. As he revved the engine and slid through the butter smooth gears, he longed for a stretch of deserted road filled with tight curves and straightaways where he could put the sleek car through its paces. Instead, he was forced to hold the mechanical beast in check as he maneuvered through morning traffic.

He pacified himself with his newest CD, Jimmy Buffet’s breezy tales of island hopping in the Caribbean. With the sun warming his face and a soft breeze ruffling his hair, Martin let himself daydream of sailing away to exotic places.

Soon, he promised himself, when he was free of his parasitic business partner and rid of his greedy wife, he would treat himself to a vacation. Martin raised his eyebrows as a thought occurred to him.

Vivian and Harry were both obstacles to his freedom. Maybe there was a way to get rid of them both. The idea made Martin smile. A few hints, a rumor or two about Vivian and Harry having an affair, he liked the scenario. With a little effort he might be able to make it look like Vivian was two-timing her lover, Cal. Cal might become jealous and kill them both. Wouldn’t that be perfect! He would soon have the information he needed to force Harry out of the business, but this way would be so much more interesting and final, not to mention cheaper.

Oh well, he thought, it was fun to daydream and wasn’t it nice that you couldn’t go to jail for what you were thinking.

He glided to a stop in his personal parking space, set his car alarm, and entered the twelve story sandstone and smoked glass building. Most of the offices belonged to lawyers, accountants, and insurance companies, but the top floor was Martin’s little kingdom. The doors of the elevator whispered open, and he stepped into the large beautifully decorated reception area of Feldstein Enterprises, Incorporated. Rainy had done an excellent job of decorating his offices. The autumn colors she’d used, soft moss green, gold, cream, and shades of brown, were his favorites. He smiled at the memory of her rushing around the offices with cloth swatches, taking measurements and kicking off her shoes to stand on a chair to measure his office windows. The sight of her long tan legs at eye level was more than he could resist. He remembered her struggling against his advances, afraid someone would walk in on them. Of course, in the end, he won the struggle, and they made love on the soft leather couch she’d just had delivered.

Good morning Mr. Feldstein. The pretty young receptionist smiled up at him.

Good morning Samantha. How was your weekend? He shuffled through messages and mail as he spoke.

It was the best weekend I’ve ever had! She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. A large diamond ring sparkled up at him.

So, Troy is finally going to make an honest woman of you, He teased. That’s wonderful, Sam. But I hope this doesn’t mean we are going to lose you.

His flattery made her blush. Oh no, the wedding isn’t until next summer, and I’ll still work because he wants to finish school and we can’t live on just his part-time income.

Well, that’s good news. You tell Troy I said he’s a lucky man to have caught you. He gathered up his mail and his copy of the newspaper and headed for his office.

He took one of the messages and set the rest aside. After dialing the number, he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

This is Martin Feldstein, I’m returning Matt’s call. He waited a moment then said, Matt, what did you find? He listened intently then said, Great! That’s just what I was looking for. Can you fax it to me right away? After a pause, Wonderful! You’ve made my day, buddy. I’ll be in touch.

He hung up the phone and swung his feet off the desk. The fax machine in the corner of the office began to spit out paper. He crossed the room and gathered the sheets up, glanced over them and began to smile. Harry, you bastard, I’ve got you.

Martin returned to his desk and took a large folder out of his brief case. He carefully placed the faxed copies on top of other papers in the folder and put it back in the case, taking time to lock it before setting it back on the floor next to his desk.

Harry was in Denver on business today, so Martin would have to wait until tonight to spring the trap on his unwanted partner. But he could wait. The anticipation of Harry’s reaction would carry Martin through the rest of his day. He might be late for his date with Rainy, but it would be worth it to finally be rid of Harry Dean after all these years.

Martin settled back to enjoy his newspaper, but a disturbance in the lobby caught his attention, and he rose to see what was going on. Before he could get to his door, it burst open and a very angry red-faced man stormed into his office.

Without bothering to close the door he began to shout at Martin. You conniving son-of-a-bitch! I’ll kill you before I’ll let you cheat me out of my land.

Martin stood his ground as a small crowd gathered outside his door. Now Baxter, calm down. The deal was perfectly legit and you got more than a fair price for your grazing land. Your lawyers had plenty of time to go over the fine print before you signed the papers. Although Martin was six foot two, the raging bear of a man towered over him.

You know what I’m talking about, don’t try to lie your way out of it. You won’t get away with it! I’ll see you in your grave before I’ll let you touch those wetlands!

The angry man took a step forward, but two building security guards arrived in time to grab him by the arms and swing him around.

We’ll take care of him Mr. Feldstein, said one of the guards. Come on fella, don’t make this hard on yourself.

Baxter King cursed and shouted as the guards escorted him onto the elevator and the doors slid shut on his threats.

Jeez Mr. Feldstein, he was sure scary, said the visibly shaken Samantha.

"It’s okay Sam. He just wasn’t smart enough to make a good deal for himself, and now he’s mad at his own stupidity. It happens in this business. There