Shred of Evidence

“Shh!” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on the television.

I stomp into the kitchen for another beer. I’ve already had two and we are only forty-five minutes into the movie. Of course Doug had let her pick it…again.

I hear a shuffle of fabric and the groan of the couch springs as Doug gets up.

“Doug,” Bev says in a whiney voice.

“I’ll be right back,” he says. “You want another drink?”

Doug comes around the corner into the kitchen to where I’m leaning up against the counter. “What’s the matter, Rob?” he asks me.

“This movie sucks.”

“Yeah, it’s not my favourite movie either, but at least I’m not getting all pissy about it.”

“It’s not the movie, Doug; I’ve seen shitty movies before and survived.”

“What is it then?” he asks. I can see it in his eyes, the forced ignorance, begging me not to tell him that his girlfriend is a controlling bitch from hell.

“Nothing man, I just need another beer,” I say and head for the fridge.

“Can you grab a wine spritzer for Bev?” I grasp one tightly by the neck. I’d rather bash the bottle over her head than serve it to her. “Yeah, no problem,” I say through gritted teeth.

I try to walk casually into the living room and I toss the bottle to Bev, thinking that I’m doing well at restraining myself from throwing it at her.

“Rob! Now it’s going to fizz over,” she says and goes to get a new drink.

Doug looks at me pleadingly and I raise my hands in defense unable to contain my smile.

“Sorry, Bev,” I say when she gets back. “Let’s just try to enjoy the movie,”

“I have been trying,” she says, “despite the interruptions.”

* * *

I walk out of my bedroom heading to the kitchen to get some coffee going as is my usual morning routine. I am able to sleep a little longer because I usually end up closing up shop at the garage. Doug is usually up before me but he won’t drink coffee, which is good because I’m very particular about my coffee: it’s got to be African beans and it’s got to be strong. As I walk into the kitchen, I see Doug sending Bev off with a kiss.“She spent the night again?” I ask, noticing too late the disdain in my voice.

“Why do you have to give her such a hard time?” Doug asks.

“I don’t give her a hard time,” I say, hoping he’ll drop the subject before I say something I’ll regret—my self-control and thoughtfulness are very poor in the morning.

“If you guys could just stop going at each other,” Doug says. “She’s finding it really hard to get along with you always saying things to hurt her feelings.”

“Me?” I try to slow my neart rate and manage to slow my tongue, but I cannot stop it completely. “She isn’t right for you.”

“Rob, I’m not asking for relationship advice from you.”

“I know but—”

“Please.”

“Ok.”

“I know you two seem like you’re butting heads, but you know what they say, it’s usually people who are alike that have a hard time getting along. Focus on that connection, and remember in that you’re both my best friends. Maybe that would help you to soften up to her a bit.”

I choke back the vomit from the load of shit he’s just fed me, and then reply. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Thanks buddy, I’m going to go hop in the shower,” he says and skips into his bedroom to grab some clothes.

“All right.”

If only Doug knew what I was going through just so he could have a piece of tail. Doug and I moved into the city and started sharing this very apartment while attending college. Before that, we lived next door to each other back in our little hometown. We were friends throughout our school years. We’re like brothers. To be embarrassingly honest, I must say that Doug and I have never done well with the ladies. I’ve had a few girlfriends over the years, but they never last. Maybe it’s my temper or perfectionism, or maybe I’m just an asshole. But Bev is Doug’s first girlfriend, and while I know he could do better I can’t ruin this for him. Doug isn’t a solid guy. Don’t get me wrong now, he’s a good friend—stick with you through thick and thin, but he’s sensitive and he’s shy. I have to watch out for him sometimes, but this is one area I can’t do anything.

Doug walks back into the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Thanks, man, I appreciate you help. I really love this girl, you know?” he says and skips into the bathroom.

Love? Slow down a second. How serious is this?

* * *

I go straight home after work, hoping to have a few minutes to talk alone with Doug. I’m lucky; he’s not home yet, so I settle into the couch to watch the early news. Someone killed here, another natural disaster over there, more fighting over-seas. Same old crap, I don’t know why I watch it, but you have to keep current, right?They’re barely into the third news story when Doug opens the front door.

“Doug,” I call getting up from the couch. “Got a minute?”

I round the corner into the entrance and—surprise. “Hi Bev.”

“Rob,” she says with the minimal acknowledgement possible.

“What is it?” Doug asks.

I look at him quizzically.

“You asked if I had a minute.”

Then I remember. “Never-mind,” I say and retreat to the living room, like a groundhog running from his shadow, only my shadow is a petite black haired bitch.

Bev makes a tiny snorting noise as I leave the room, and I spin around. “What?”

She looks at me innocently. “Hmmm?”

“That little snort,” I say. “What was that about?”

“What are you talking about?”

From behind Bev, Doug looks at me pleadingly.

“Nothing,” I say, “How was work?”

“Work?” Bev says with a look as if rather than asking her a polite question, I’d just punched her in the face, but believe me I want to. “Work was fine.”

“Good to hear,” I say and head back to the living room. Maybe with a little perseverance and will power I can be nice to her, maybe over time she and I will get along, be like brother and sister or something. Then I hear her whisper.

“As if he cares about my day at work.”

“Come on,” says Doug, “he’s a good guy; he’s trying to get along.”

“He’s trying to get under my skin. Anyway, I better get going. Meet you at Olive Garden at six?”

“You bet,” he says, and then I hear the smacking sound of their kiss goodbye.

* * *

I wake up and fumble my way into the kitchen to get some coffee going before I shower.“Oh, you stayed for night, again,” I say purely out of surprise upon seeing Bev at our kitchen table. She has stayed over a few times, but this was three nights in a row.

“I hope that’s ok with you,” she says feigning a bow.

I fake a smile and try to focus on making some coffee, but there’s already half a pot there, which Bev must have made. It looks obscenely weak, so I dump it and start a fresh pot.

“That was fresh,” Bev says.

“It was practically water, if you’re going waste my coffee at least make something drinkable.”

“Frickin’ loser.”

Alarms are ringing in my head but luckily, I’m too tired to form an intelligent comeback at this point. I curse and mutter under my breath and head for the bathroom. By the time I’m out of the shower, Bev is gone and Doug is just getting ready to leave for work.

“Hold up a second buddy,” I say before he can leave. I know this is bad timing but I can’t hold it in any longer. “We need to talk.”

“What about?”

“Bev.”

“Things have been going better, haven’t they?”

“Yeah, but listen,” I say suddenly unsure how to lead into this without sounding like a jackass. “I’m just wondering what’s going on with you guys?”

“Oh?”

“Well that’s three nights in a row that she’s spent the night; is your relationship really ready for that?”

“Well, we were going to wait to tell everybody…we’re engaged!”

“What?”

“Yeah, I asked her last night at the restaurant. We haven’t set a date or anything, she doesn’t want to rush it, but she said yes!”

“Hold on, how come you never told me you were thinking about this?” Regardless of my opinion of Bev, as my best friend Doug was obligated to get my blessing or at least my opinion on the ring!

“I know I should have, but I just decided two days ago and you guys have been a little weird lately.”

“Wow,” I say running my fingers through my hair, trying to re-focus. “What can I say?”

“You can say congratulations!”

“Don’t you think this is a little fast, Doug?”

“We’re in love. And it’s not like it’s happening next week or anything,” Doug says, a scowl creeping into his brow. “Bev doesn’t want to have the wedding right away, anyway. She wants to wait a year, maybe two. Well she didn’t really want to say anything for sure about a date, I guess.”

“Good,” I say and just at that last moment, I noticed it. A little droop to his face. He’s not just hurt because of how Bev and I have been acting; he’s hurt because of Bev, too. Maybe he thinks if I’m nicer to her it’ll trickle down into their relationship. My problems with Bev can’t go to him anymore; I’ll have to deal with them. “I’m happy for you man.”

“Thanks buddy,” he says, gets up, and gives me a hug. “It’ll be ok.”

“You bet,” I say and I know it will be, because I know what I need to do to fix it. “You bet.”

* * *

Doug and I rent a movie for the evening. Things feel a little more normal tonight: Bev isn’t around, Doug says she’s out clubbing, an excuse to tell all her friends the great news and show off the ring, he thinks. I still haven’t seen the ring and if everything goes as planned, I never will.Two hours later the movie is over and Doug is yawning.

“I’m going to hit the sack,” Doug says, stretching and bending like a contortionist.

“I think I’ll return the movie right away.”

“Don’t bother; I’ll do it on the way to work.”

“Nah, I don’t mind.”

“It’s on my way anyway,” Doug says sternly looking out for me. “Don’t waste your time and gas.”

“I just feel like going for a drive, might as well bring it back on the way.”

“Ok, if you want to.”

“Good night,” I say. I wait for him to enter the bathroom then go to the entrance closet and pull down the box of winter clothing. I quickly find my calfskin leather gloves. I stuff the gloves into my jacket pocket and slip out. I get into my old Camaro and start driving. It’s only a few blocks to Bev’s apartment; a towering structure, nearly twenty stories high. I’ve never been inside but Doug tells me it’s very nice: plush carpets and a spacious kitchen with patio doors off the dining area. From the road I can see her large balcony on the top floor. The parking lot is out in front, right on the corner and that’s going to be a problem for me but it’s late and even though there’s plenty of traffic on the road the parking lot is deserted. I turn off the main route and, not taking any chances, I park a block away and walk back. Everything still looks clear as I pull on my gloves. I approach Bev’s brand new Honda Civic. It’s neat, trim and tight, just like her. I drop down under it. It’s an easy job and I make quick work of it. Within a minute I’ve cut each of the front brake lines. I get up take a quick survey of the parking lot. Still clear. I pull the gloves off and start walking back to the road. Just then a car pulls off into the lane, driving very slow. It’s a newer model Malibu just like—oh shit. I drop down to the pavement behind one of the parked cars. I wait a moment and then peer straight through the parked car’s windows. Doug’s face glows in the dash lights of his Malibu as he creeps along the lane searching the parking lot. I wait there until he passes and begins to speed up. I continue to wait in case he turns around for another inspection. About a block away he slows down again, and I realize he has stopped next to my car; he only stops for a second and then speeds away.

I’m scared. This wasn’t planned very well. But there’s no going back as the pool of liquid grows under Bev’s Accord.

I run back to my car, to hell with remaining calm, cool, and collected. I speed out of there and head back for the apartment. I pull into my parking space beside Doug’s Malibu and realize that I forgot my alibi: I was supposed to return the movie. I look on the passenger seat, under it, everywhere. I didn’t return it first, did I? I don’t think so; I must have left the movie in the apartment the whole time. This isn’t going to look good. I take a deep breath and force myself to get out of the car and face the music. The Malibu’s engine is cooling. I hear it ticking beside me when I exit the Camaro.

A minute later I walk into the apartment and Doug is nowhere to be seen. I look around the corner and see that his bedroom door is closed. Maybe he didn’t realize that it was my car, maybe he doesn’t suspect anything. What could he possibly think I was doing there? Draining the brake fluid of his girlfriend’s—no, fiancé’s—car?

Scenarios of him fingering me to the police keep running through my mind. I go to the fridge for a beer, hoping that will slow my mind enough that I could get some sleep tonight. I’m not sure it will, so I down second one, just in case.

* * *

It’s midnight and I’ve finished off the nine beers that were in the fridge. Doug still hasn’t come home since leaving for work this morning. Is he at the police station telling them what I did? Was he in the car when Bev’s brakes failed? Maybe he’s in the hospital right now. Or dead. They would find is wallet and call his place of residence though, right? So where is he? I start to make a mental list of people I can phone to see if anyone has heard from him today.I have already decided that he is dead and that I will start making phone calls first thing in the morning, then Doug arrives.

He opens the door and comes in quietly.

“Doug!” I say jumping from the couch, where I’d been sitting for the last 5 hours trying to give the television half of my attention.

“Oh hey Rob, I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Nah,” I say trying to collect myself. “Where’ve you been?”

“Well, this morning Bev got into an accident, so I had to drive her around all day since her car was in the body shop. I didn’t get any work done during the day so I ended up working late on a couple of reports that are due tomorrow.”

“Bev was in an accident?”

“Yeah, she rear-ended someone in the parking lot at her apartment when she was trying to leave for work. Some kind of brake failure.”

“She wasn’t hurt?”

“No.”

“Good, good,” I say and turn away. “Good.” Then the door opens and Bev walks in, carrying a couple bags. Until now I had convinced myself she was dead, and had died by my hand. “Hi Bev,” I manage to croak.

“Hi,” she says and begins carting her bags to Doug’s room.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“She’s going to stay here for a couple of days until her car is fixed. It just makes it easier for me to drive her around and stuff.”

“Ok,” I say with a shrug. Doug looks at me for a moment. I can see he wants to say something but is either scared or cannot think of the words. “What is it, Doug?”

“Do you think she loves me?”

“Bev?” I say, surprised that the notion could even enter his head. “Of course.” He’s staring me down, weighing my reaction.

“I don’t know, it’ll be good keep her around here,” Doug says and releases me from his gaze. “Good night.”

Good to keep her around? To watch me and keep and eye on her, surely he suspects me of something. I feel like I’ve just been through and interrogation and I‘ve given everything away. But I know I haven’t because there is nothing: only an insurance claim—not attempted murder.

* * *

Bev walks into the apartment at five o’clock. I look up from the paper that I’m reading at the dining table and begin to say hi.“Don’t even start with me today; I’m way too bloody tired. I’m taking a nap,” she says kicking off her shoes. “And if Doug calls don’t wake me.” She disappears into Doug’s bedroom.

My pride insulted, I can no longer concentrate on the news. I get up to start making supper, then the phone rings. Being in a sour mood, I decide to let the machine take the call.

“Hi guys, it’s Doug. I have to work late today, I’ll bring some pizza when I’m done here.”

As I put away the box of macaroni and cheese, it occurs to me that I’m alone with Bev. No one has seen me come home today except her. The answering machine took a call that I would have answered had I been here. I was the last to leave the shop today. All I need to do is to go back to work and hang out there for a couple of hours, change my hours in the computer and there’d be no way to know I’d ever been home. No sooner has this occurred to me than I’m picking up a steak knife from cutlery drawer. Halfway to Doug’s bedroom, where Bev lies, I realize that I can’t do it like this. Not with a knife, it’s too messy. I put it back and then an idea comes to me. I stand by the door and listen. I can hear her moving in the bed. I sit down at the table and read the newspaper for a few minutes. I read one article three times, never able to soak in the words. I go back the door. It’s quiet now. I slowly open the door and Bev is laying motionless on her back on the edge of the bed. I make my way over to the double bed that Doug and her have been sharing. She looks so peaceful in her sleep. For the first time I am able to appreciate her beauty as the slender features of her face are softened by sleep. I stand mesmerized by the slow rhythmic sounds of her breathing. Suddenly she makes a snuffing sound and I’m startled out of my trance. I reach over her and pick up Doug’s pillow. I need to align myself properly so that if she struggles I’ll be able to hold her down. Ready.

“Hello,” Doug calls and slams the front door.

Bev’s eyes open a split second after I toss the pillow back onto the bed. She blinks and my bowels go loose in shock and then panic tightens them again. I grab a couple of beer bottles off the nightstand.

“What are you guys doing?” Doug asks as he enters the bedroom.

Bev blinks again, confused.

“I was just cleaning up; I wanted to bring these empties away later.”

* * *

Two days later Bev’s car is repaired and she’s back in her own apartment.“How about we go to a movie to celebrate Bev getting her car back?”

“Sure, I’ll call her and see.”

“I mean just you and me. How long has it been since we did something without Bev around?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while,” Doug says. “Let’s do it.”

The multiplex is a wheel-shaped building with the ticket sales and snack area making up the hub, and the halls to the various theatres making up the spokes. It’s a Friday night so it’s brimming with entertainment seekers. We get our tickets and stand in line for some over-priced popcorn and soda. Doug is filling me in on how well the accounting firm where he works is doing and the promotion he’s sure to get. Then I see her. Bev is leaving the ticket counter she passes the arcade room and then disappears down the hall toward theatres 1 to 4.

“Can you save my spot for a second? I need to go to the bathroom,” I say to Doug and make my way toward and down the hall of theatres. There she is, standing in line. I walk over and tap her on the shoulder. She turns around with a mildly irritated crease between her eyes. Upon recognizing me, the irritated crease stretches to surprise.

“Oh, hi Rob.”

“Hi, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Well, I’m supposed to be meeting some friends…”

“I’m just wondering if we could get together and talk some time?”

“Talk?”

“Yeah,” I say, wishing I had thought this through better.

“About what?”

“Well, it would be good for us to settle a few things since you’re going to be marrying my best friend soon.”

“Woah,” she says and pulls me out the line-up and over to the side of the hallway away from the crowd. She draws me close, keeping a hand on my shoulder and continues in a hushed voice. “Who said anything about that? Did Doug tell you we were getting married soon?”

“Well,” I say, impressed with the turn this has taken. “Not exactly.”

“I told Doug that I don’t like the idea of marriage and he got pissed, so I said I’d wear the ring while I thought about it.”

“Oh, well that’s not the impression I had.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I should get back,” I motion behind me, hoping that I’d hooked her.

“Maybe we should get together,” she says. “Come over tomorrow around ten, my room-mate works nights, so she’ll be gone by then.”

“Perfect,” I say and turn to leave. Doug is still at the food vender. He’s looking directly my way but then appears to be scanning the crowds. Was he watching the whole time?

“Bathroom pretty busy tonight?” he asks as he hands me some popcorn and a large drink.

“Yeah, a little,” I say as we head toward theatre 9.

* * *

I’ve spent most of the day at work thinking about tonight. Unable to come up with a decent alibi, I’ve needed to be more creative. It appears as though there’s more to Doug’s relationship with Bev than he’s letting on. It’s going to require saying some things about Doug that aren’t true, but lying will be the least of my sins tonight. If I can convince Bev to take a breather from Doug, or break up with him altogether I can hopefully convince her to write him a letter and sign it. If I can help her write it with vague enough sentiments, it might pass as a suicide note. Then I’ll need is to give a little shove—it’s a long way to the ground from her balcony.I’m running through the different lines I’ll need to feed her about Doug as I drive toward her apartment. He’s already booked a church in the country, I’ll tell her. He has picked out the names for your first five kids. I’ll have her ready to jump over the railing herself.

I park in the visitor parking, no need for secrecy tonight. I’m just a boyfriend’s friend coming over to console and comfort during a troubled time in their relationship, when—to my shock—I find her dead.

I realize this plan is contingent on a few ifs. I ponder these as I ride the elevator. I’ll need to improvise, especially if she’s uncooperative. If it goes badly enough I’ll have to just throw her over the railing and get the hell out.

I finally reach her door and press the buzzer. A moment later it opens slightly and her face appears.

“Rob,” she says in a hoarse voice. “Run!”

Bewildered, I step back, too curious to run, and the door opens partially. Gleaming silver flashes across her neck followed by squirts of red. Bev’s mouth opens in a scream that yields no sound. My entire body recoils in horror.

The arm behind Bev lets her drop to the floor and the door opens all of the way. Doug steps out. “Come on in Lover Boy,” he says.

I walk slowly inside, like wading through mud. “Doug?”

“So this is what a friend for life looks like,” Doug says pointing a bread knife at me.

“What?”

“How long has it been going on?” Doug says, slowly coming toward me.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“How long have you been sleeping together?”

“Who?”

“You and Bev you piece of shit! All your secret meetings together, you were so obvious.”

“It’s not what you think, she just wanted to talk.”

“Bastard!” he screams and drives the knife down into my shoulder. “You fooled me for too long!” He drives the knife down again and again.