A Trail of Vengeance by Marvin R Levine

Author:Marvin R Levine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marvin Levine

CHAPTER 11

Claire parked her Mercedes at the far end of Huntington Beach State Park’s north campground parking lot — right next to the path leading out to the beach. The last time she had been there was shortly after Ben had been taken away, with the man who had helped Beth that fateful day. Being here again today was simply a matter of practicality. She needed a quick getaway after she took care of Beth. Her plan this morning was to leave the Mercedes here, bike back through the state park out to the bike path, then ride below North Litchfield where she would then bike on the beach up to Beth’s house. The two would bike together to the place where Ben had fallen. But instead of biking further up to the jetty, like they discussed, she would do away with Beth, bike the short distance back to the north parking lot and go home. She’d then gather her already packed bag and leave for Myrtle Beach airport where she had booked an afternoon flight to the Bahamas. Then she would purchase another identity and disappear forever.

Claire’s master plan had gone pretty much without a hitch. Sure, Jake played hard to get, but he was really only involved as a means to screw with Beth. Had he been interested; she may have let him tag along. After all, he did seem to enjoy himself in Nashville. But it became evident he was dedicated to the wife he had no problem cheating on three months earlier. Hmm, just like Ben. And look where it had gotten him.

As she rode on the bike path through the woods towards her destiny, the warm spring air blowing back her raven mane, Claire mused again on how she had arrived at this point. She went through all the events leading up to her leaving Ohio, and what had happened since. Everything changed that day I caught Josh with his first whore. The one who mysteriously looked a lot like me. Two weeks before the Nashville conference, back in February, all of a sudden he said he needed to work late multiple nights in a row. He hardly ever worked late, and never consecutive nights. And each night he came back home, smelling fresh, like he had just showered, instead of the stale smell of sweat and coffee he usually smelled like. So I started following him — tailed him out of his office the next time he called and said he needed to work late. Except when he left the garage downtown exactly at 4:30 PM, like he always did — he drove over to the West Side — to Price Hill, where the whores hung out. And then he picked her up and drove off to some bang house. I waited there for thirty minutes, then tailed him again to the YMCA downtown. Guess he washed the filth off there. I didn’t wait around. Met him at the door forty minutes later and he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

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