The Whiskey Files

TWO

It had been a little over a year and Susanna was just getting the last little bits of her ex-husband's things out of the house they had shared for the better half of seven years. The last box was being loaded up and shipped out that morning by 9 A.M. sharp.

Not only would she finally be free of Alexander Emmitt, but she would finally be able to put to rest the thoughts of Salem King. At least, that was what she hoped.

In reality, she thought about Salem constantly and each time it was like a fresh tear at her heart that made the bitter resentment well up in her like a hot ache. It reminded her of the betrayal of her trust and how that man had slithered his way into her life despite how hard she had fought to try to keep him out of it.

She wasn't that type of woman. Not the kind that went behind the back of the man she married, the man she took oaths for in the house of God and made promises to love, honor and cherish. She hadn't been that kind of woman till Salem had made her that kind of woman.

Sure, she hadn't been in the happiest marriage and Alex had shown himself to be the complete opposite of the man she had fallen in love with: that happy-go-lucky, devoted and tender-loving sort of man, that was the man she had met in college. The man who had wooed her for over a year and a half of dating and had asked for her hand in marriage.

That man had been a lie. Even then, that didn't make her a cheater. Even when the façade had fallen and Alex had shown his true colors she hadn't once thought of cheating. It was Alex and Mr. King who had pushed her to it.

Two men who had done nothing more than show her she couldn't trust men.

That was why now she just had her two big Dobermanns to keep her company in this big house. The 4 bedroom, two story Dutch Colonials with its dark cobalt blue paint and beautiful columns and large bay windows and its acreage of freshly manicured lawn with privacy hedges that she used to share with Alex. Filled with modern art-deco furniture and state of the art technology she didn't want that now had grown on her.

Her lawyer had been a hell of a good one and she had taken Alex not just for the house but for half of his worth, which he now paid her in alimony.

She was set for life and now that everything was just finalized, she could finally start living.

There was a ring on the doorbell that chimed through the house, it set off her Dobermanns who gave a heady bark each.

"Thank you, boys."

They were a nifty little alarm system, usually alerting her well before anyone got to the door to ring it, but she had been so busy with the box she hadn't noticed them getting up and move towards the door to alert her that the delivery driver was there to pick up the scheduled package.

The box was carried over to the door with a bit of a juggle for the door and as she opened it, the man on the other side would take one look at the dogs on the other side and took several steps back out of instinct before he stepped towards her to help her with her struggle with the box.

"Just this?"

She nodded her head.

"That's it. At least it better be."

Hopefully the last of it she'll ever have to deal with again.

She shut the door as the driver started walking off and she made her way towards her peach-colored couch to slink her way down with a sigh.

Everything in that box was a good reminder of Alex. His little hobby of toy cars he probably spent about as much money on as most men spent on real cars. Model airplanes and the like. All painstakingly wrapped up in bubble wrap and then placed delicately into the box. If anything happened to it from here? Well, it was now out of her control and no longer her problem, just like Alex.

For a split moment she wondered what Salem was doing right now and she shook her head, pushing the thought as far away as she possibly could.

Reminding herself of what he did for a living and that he was probably out working on another case. Chasing married women around like he had chased her around. The very idea of which drove her crazy, like she couldn't stand the very thought of him going after anyone else. She didn't know why it did, but it did all the same, which made her sick to her stomach.

He was a warning to her newly single life. Men who were far too handsome for their own good, who could get any woman they wanted with a kind word and a flash of a too handsome smile. Players and playboys who lied about their intentions. Who only wanted one thing and then to betray the trust that was built. That was the type of men she needed to stay far away from.

She felt that familiar sting all over again and she huffed in frustration. Why did she always torture herself like this with thoughts of him? She needed to get out and do something, like take her dogs out for a run.

Yeah, a nice mid-morning jog would help everyone feel better.

"Right, boys?" She asked, as if they could hear her thoughts.

- - -

"Drunk again? Go figure."

The voice drew him from whatever dream he had been having. Something he couldn't remember the moment he slowly opened his eyes and looked up from the office desk to the woman standing with her hands on her hips in front of him. Mrs. Evelynn Moyer, or as she liked to be called Evie.

Evie was his secretary and had been since the beginning of Tulley and King. She was an older lady, somewhere in her mid fifties with graying hair and a round face with hollow set eyes that overlooked a small round nose.

By looks she looked more like the church-going young-grandmotherly type, but Salem knew differently. She was a hard-headed woman who gave as good as she got. An old prostitute from another era who had left that world behind about twenty years ago and married one of her johns and never looked back.

She looked over him now with a look of pity as she stepped in close and took the bottle of whiskey he had still been clinging to in his sleep. The lid was taken and she capped it, setting the bottle down out of his immediate reach on the desk.

"You know if I had half a mind I would quit this job, then where would you be?" She chided him.

"Probably right here, being let alone to sleep. What time is it?"

"Just shortly after 9 in the morning. You'd know that if you didn't spend most of your time drinking away into the early hours of the morning and slept like regular people did instead."

The way he grumbled earned a hard look from the woman who was now going around his desk and tidying things up. She took the glass from him as well and set it with the whiskey bottle, then went around and jabbed him into his side.

"You smell like a distillery. Did you really sleep at the desk?"

"I got in late."

"And you continued right on drinking, you're predictable. You know, Mr. King, one of these days this hobby of yours is going to cost you even more than it already has."

"You telling me I need to accept a power higher than myself and start on a twelve-step program to getting clean?"

He couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice as he reached over for the bottle she had put out of reach. Nearly coming out of his chair for it and the glass as he drug it back over to where he sat. The lid was popped and he poured himself a quick glass and recapped the bottle. Giving it a shake to realize the bottle didn't have too much in it, and he'd hum in his contempt.

"A twelve-step program probably would be good for you, but unfortunately it won't help someone who doesn't want help. No, I'm saying you keep drinking like this and you're going to die. Happened to my uncle, you know."

Oh god, Salem let out a long sigh as she brought up the uncle. He had heard this story more times then he cared to admit.

"My uncle used to love himself the bottle. Would drink himself a fifth of Jack every day to the point that he couldn't function without it. Physically couldn't function without the drink. You know what happened, Mr. King? His liver gave up on him and he died. He barely made it to forty years old before his body gave up on him-"

He started to lip sync the words along with her as he brought his drink to them and took a sip through his teeth. Trying to stave off the hangover he knew was coming.

"Now don't be rude."

She tapped him upside his head and headed over towards the door that led towards the waiting room where her desk was.

"You should get showered before you do anything else. You reek to high heaven. Change your clothes maybe? Shave that stubble off your face. You don't look like you're the Salem King of Tulley and King that started this business. You want clients? You should start taking better care of your hygiene."

"Just go, Evie."

He brought the glass up to his forehead as if the coolness of it would help stave off the massive headache he could feel coming on.

"And do what, Mr. King? We haven't had any clients for months. Need I remind you your last couple of paychecks bounced? I'm only here to make sure you don't eat a bullet. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother showing up to this place. It's depressing watching you slowly kill yourself and not even get paid while you do it."

"You'll get paid, Evie. Just give me a couple days and I'll have the money."

She gave him an incredulous look as if she didn't believe him, then sighed as she closed the door behind him and let him be. Returning to the other room.

Yeah, he didn't believe himself either. He needed money though. Not just to pay Evie and the rent on this place, or to pay off his debts, but he was going to need more booze. His credit cards were maxed out and his wallet was close to empty. The bar had nearly cleared him out of cash last night.

"Dammit," He said to himself.

No, he knew where he needed to go and he wasn't even sure if they would lend him anymore money with the amount he owed them. It was a long shot and he knew he was going to have to finance something in order to sweeten the deal. There was no way that Mr. Brindle would even see him without something to back it.

The problem was, he really didn't have anything left he could finance. He had no car, he had no home. The only thing he had was this office space and he doubted that Mr. Brindle would want anything to do with the office.

That just left him. Man, this was going to be a hard sell.

Salem lifted his arm a bit and smelled at himself. He supposed Evie was right. He'd shower first before he went and saw Mr. Brindle, least he get chased out of the house because of the smell alone.

But first, he'd finish this glass of whiskey.