The Very Worst Man

by Laura Stapleton

  She pulled up the schedule for Saturday. No urgencies and thank goodness. Tabbing through them, everything looked like patients her staff could handle. She stood as the back door opened. Brenda leaned in while holding a box from Pizza Joe’s outside. The ever-present wind carried the aroma inside, and Alexandra’s stomach growled at the smell of supreme tastiness.

  Brenda must have heard the growl before the smell carried to the kennels. Over the uproar of barking, she hollered, “I know! This will drive our patients and us crazy with hunger. Is anyone in the waiting room? Maybe we should have our picnic in shifts.”

  Over the sudden chorus of barking dogs, Alexandra hollered, “Take it to the table out back. I’ll go up front and send Ginny out so you both can eat.”

  “What about you?”

  She gave Brenda a grin. “I get everything left over.”

  “All right.”

  Alexandra went to the front and peeked in. “Ginny, go on back and eat.”

  Sniffing like a puppy, the girl stood. “Is that pizza I smell?”

  “Yes, and try to save me some.” She stepped back to let her through, then went behind the front desk.

  Faintly as she left the building, Ginny teased her, “Ha! Ok, if I must.”

  The door eased shut behind her, and Alexandra looked around the empty waiting room. A quick check of the schedule told her it’d be ten minutes or so before their next patient. Time enough to read the instructions for visiting Stan this weekend. She expected the usual form letter. She sighed and pulled the letter from her front pocket. What surprised her was how he’d added in a personal letter and knew he must be winning friends among the guards.

  She skimmed over the words, bracing herself for even more meanness, this time in black and white. Each sentence held kindness and love, in itself a form of apology without having to admit fault. Typical Stan. He didn’t mention their last visit and his antagonism, nor did he write anything that punched her guilt buttons.

  The door opened and she looked up to see a little Schnauzer trotting in, pulling his owner behind. Alexandra stood, saying, “Good afternoon, Ralph.”

  Ginny slid in behind the desk, almost pushing her boss out of the way. “I’ll take this. You go eat.”

  “If that’s an order?”

  “Yes it is, boss.” She glanced at the little family here for the visit. “Brenda can handle the shots, so have lunch. We got this.”

  “All right. I’ll be back in a little while to check him myself.” She reached over to scratch behind Ralph’s ears. “Isn’t that right, little fella?” To his owner, Alexandra added, “Thanks for bringing him in. We’ll have him caught up on his shots in no time.” She went to the back, wanting to attack that pizza herself. Stepping outside, she grinned when seeing Brenda guarding the food. Alexandra gave her a take a hike signal and sat down, saying, “My turn.”

  “About time.” The other woman’s smile belied any sarcasm. “Is Ralph here? I saw their car drive by.”

  She sat and opened the box for her slice. “It’s him and he’s here for a routine check up. If you start, I’ll finish. Also, we need to go over Saturday. Stan has my visiting him scheduled for the afternoon, so I’ll have to rearrange patients.”

  “Wow. Ok, that’s fine and consider it done.” Brenda had a hand on the doorknob. “I can close up and drop off deposits on my way home.”

  “Sounds good.” When her assistant went inside, Alexandra took her chance to eat, hoping to be done soon enough to keep Ralph and company from waiting on her. She bit into the slice and chewed, loving how the green peppers tasted. Even when the food wasn’t hot, Pizza Joe’s did good work. She reached for a second slice, but paused. Now that hunger wasn’t at the front of her mind, what to do on Saturday was.

  Visiting Stan and pretending nothing had happened between them seemed impossible now. He’d been hateful before, but nothing like the last time they’d met. His attitude reminded her of a dog who had slipped his leash after a lifetime of being chained. Maybe he felt tied up by having to take care of her until she finished her last year of Veterinary school. He’d called her a burden often enough. Now prison might offer him an odd sort of freedom that being her brother had never given him.

  She looked down at the remaining pizza, not wanting to waste three pieces. It had grown cold enough to be solid, so Alexandra went in and put the box in their fridge next to Ginny’s yogurts. She had a patient that needed her focus more than her brother did at the moment. Stan’s time to take up space in her mind could be Saturday while she drove to see him.

  After the second car flew past her on I80, Alexandra looked down at her speedometer. Ten miles under the speed limit? No wonder. She sped up, more resentful about her cruise control’s lack of function now than she had been during the last time driving this way. It was one thing to sacrifice for family, another to sacrifice for someone who despised you. Even worse was giving up a minor car repair for family that hated you.

  She turned down the car’s CD player, the loud music giving her a headache. Playing a custom mix had helped with keeping her mind occupied for the first hour. After a while, Alexandra could feel every blood vessel in her brain. Another long hour stretched out between now and seeing him. Tears sprung to her eyes and she sniffed. Damn it. Crying was the last thing she wanted to do right now. One look at her puffy face and he’d know. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hurting her.

  Shifting in her seat, she cracked the windows a little to let in fresh air. She regretted not making a pit stop in Laramie. The last time she’d done so, she’d not arrived early enough for Stan. She felt a frown furrow deepen in her forehead and rubbed the space between her eyebrows. The visit needed to be bearable. How could she make this a game instead of a drudge? She smiled, wanting to deny the ornery idea, but couldn’t. She’d time him to see how long he could go without complaining about something she did, said, or thought.

  Heck, she ought to make up a Bingo card. A square for complaining about her actions, a square for telling her what she thinks, yet another for his syrup sweet way of asking for a favor. Maybe add another couple of squares for his temper if she refused to do his dirty work or to pay one of his bills.

  No. All that was negative and hurt her stomach. Better to stay positive, not let him push her around, and just leave if he turned mean. After walking out on him a few times, he might learn to be nicer to people willing to drive two hours to see him. Passing a Sinclair gas station, she slowed for the left hand turn onto the horribly dusty dirt road. She rolled up the windows and eased down to the gate. This time was much easier. Everything was ready and the guard waved her on.

  Having been through this before helped her nerves a lot. All the waits, searches, and stashing stuff in lockers seemed much more routine. She even almost smiled to the guard before he let her into the common visiting center. Seeing Stan already waiting, she wanted to turn and flee. She walked over to him, sitting down before he could stand and try to hug her.

  “Hi, Lexi-doodles. I got the money in my account. Thanks so much for sending it. You’re the best.”

  Stan wore that grin he used to charm her back into a good mood. The niceness didn’t reach his eyes and in an instant, she knew he’d been lying all these years. “You’re welcome.”

  “Yeah. So, have you been working on my case?”

  His tone sounded so kind and polite, yet had an undercurrent of hate and anger. How had she never caught this before now? Seeing through him surprised her, as if she could really read his mind. She’d been on the defense all her life, and now Alexandra knew why. He’d been on offense for as long as she could remember. She smiled at the thought of giving an offensive move or two of her own. Let him be the one backed into a corner for once. She smiled, starting to enjoy the prospect of antagonizing him. “A little. I’ve spend some serious time talking to the prosecutor about any sort of reasonable doubt leads he might have.”

  He leaned back, stroking the beginning fuzz of a mustache. “Oh, man.
Why’d you talk to him about that? He can’t help us, or he would have dropped the charges in the beginning.”

  She bit her lip while wondering how to respond. Deciding on the truth for now, she said, “I thought that if anyone knew of a weakness in the case, he would. Your lawyer cashes my checks, but doesn’t answer my calls.”

  “I hear ya. So. No leads.” Stan rested his elbows on the table. “Has he been friendly? Because he looks like an uptight gay. Have you met his boyfriend, yet? He’s probably dating my defense attorney. It’d explain why I’m in here.”

  “What?” Stan’s statement caught her off guard, and she almost laughed at his assumption, especially after feeling how much Hayden had wanted her when they kissed. She smiled, pleased to use the truth to needle her brother. “He’s fine and not gay. At least, not around me.”

  He sat up, eyes squinted as if she’d lied to him. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

  While hiding a grin, she leaned back in the chair and almost yawned. “He just doesn’t give me that vibe.” Shrugging as if not having a care in the world, she added, “Not that he matters anyway. I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”

  “All right, what is it?”

  Stan had his hands open, his body language suggesting he could be trusted, but she didn’t. Not as far as she could throw him. He might be a scrawny guy, but he’d still make a bad softball. In a skeptical tone intended to needle him, she asked, “You’ll tell me the truth?”

  “I always do. So what is this big important truth you need to know?”

  His irritation felt rewarding. Alexandra didn’t smile. Instead, she leaned forward and said as quietly as the background noise would allow, “Did you kill Sheila that night?”

  He flailed his hands as if fed up with all her nonsense. “I didn’t. I’ve told you I didn’t.” Stan continued to shake his head. “Are you really asking me something that stupid? Haven’t you got it by now? I didn’t kill her.”

  “I know that’s what you’ve said.” She wanted to work it to where he lost his temper and admitted to the murder. She needed to hear it from him directly. “I also know there is strong evidence you did. In fact, there’s no evidence of anyone else but me being there.”

  “I don’t believe this. You think I killed her.” He leaned forward, speaking in a low tone. “How much time did you spend with that guy anyway? Enough to fuck him?” Smirking at her gasp, he went on. “If you were going to screw around with him, you should have done that before my trial. Save me some time in here.”

  His rudeness made her cynical attitude slip from her like butter off a noodle. He’d always been insulting, but this was too far. She gritted her teeth before saying, “I wouldn’t sleep with someone just to get you out of here.”

  Still grinning his smarmy little smile, Stan leaned back. “You wouldn’t? Maybe if you did, I could discredit him and get my conviction overturned on an ethics charge.” He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I like that. I hadn’t researched that angle, but yeah.” Staring at her, he asked, “Have you at least kissed him? If we can get proof of that, we’re gold.”

  “What?” The question surprised her. Why would he think they’d kissed unless she’d given something away during their prior visits? She stammered, “No, of course I wouldn’t. I hate him, he put you here.”

  He laughed. “You’re lying. Cool. I can work with a kiss.” Stan tapped the table twice. “So go home, call him up, and invite him over. Bang his ass off, preferably with photos or video, and let me know how far you get. I’m still not convinced he’s straight. He’s too pretty to be. Meanwhile, I’ll look up how to bring up ethics charges on the guy. Hell, I may be out by Christmas.”

  She clenched her teeth to keep from telling Stan that if good looks made a man gay, he’d be gay himself. Alexandra wanted to get him angry enough to admit to murder, not defend himself against something as misguided as mocking his sexuality. “Don’t count on it. I’m not sleeping with him for you. There won’t be any evidence, and I’m not starting a relationship with Hayden to benefit you.”

  “I see. You think I belong here.” He slumped in his chair. “Fine. I’ll do this on my own since you don’t want to help. I suppose the only person I can rely on is myself.” With a long sigh, he paused before saying, “Mom and dad always said you were the responsible one. They’d be heartbroken if they saw how you’re not willing to help me with this.”

  A snorting laugh escaped her. “Nice try, but that won’t work. Come up with another plan to be home by Christmas because I’m not sleeping with someone so you can get out of here. As it is, I’m busting my butt to pay your legal fees, plus I’m still paying utilities out at your house. Do I have them cut off the power, or do you start footing the bill yourself?”

  He let his chin fall low enough to touch his chest. “You know I don’t have much. Not even enough to bury poor Sheila.”

  She had to concentrate to hear his soft tone, and once deciphering his words, held her breath to keep from laughing at his lame attempt at sorrow. After a few seconds, she had to swallow before being able to reply. “That won’t wash because I’ve seen your bank balance. All your mail comes to me.”

  His chin popped back up and fury flashed in his eyes. “You opened my mail?” Eyes narrowed, he said, “Well, well, little sister, you’re just as much a criminal as I am.”

  Chuckling, she didn’t try to hide her amusement. “Right, because me opening something that might need your immediate attention is just as bad as strangling the life out of your wife.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “Ooo, I’m so bad. Do we get to be bunkmates? Should I still try to sleep with Wells, or do you want to share a cell with me?”

  His hands shook on the table. “I should turn you in.”

  Alexandra leaned forward and tried not to grin. “You do and I’ll tell everyone you killed her. We both know you did. It’s the only answer.”

  “Fine. Do it.” Stan waved his hands in a gesture towards the door. “Go running to your new little legal dick and tell him. I can’t be retried, so that’s not a threat.”

  “Aren’t there any appeals you’d want to win?” She watched as his expression changed from hard and angry to soft and brotherly. Like before, Stan’s gentle smile didn’t reach his eyes. Had they ever? she wondered. Didn’t matter. Her mission today was to pry an admission of guilt out of him. She watched as he struggled to say something appeasing to her.

  “Aw come on, Lexi-doodles. Let’s not fight about it. I was just teasing, really.” He held open his hands and shrugged. “Come on, I’m kidding. You can’t take a joke?”

  She wanted to punch him. His whole “take a joke” routine was old twenty years ago. How often had this happened between them with Stan saying something jerky and countering her protest with a come-on-I’m-kidding-take-a-joke type of response? Alexandra sat there for a moment, searching her memories. They weren’t hard to find, she just had to look for anger and shame patterns. She searched too for times where she’d made a joke at his expense, then blame him for his reaction. None came to mind, so maybe it was time for her to create a new memory. One where he got angry, admitted he killed his wife, she’d go home, and would never return to see him. Alexandra shook her head. “I have a good sense of humor. You’re just not funny anymore.”

  In a flash, the caring brother disappeared and irritated jerk returned. “You need to open your eyes once in a while. Maybe take that stick out of your ass.”

  Speaking before thinking, she asked, “Excuse me?” Her harsh tone surprised Alexandra. She took a deep breath. “What did you say to me just now?”

  “I’m kidding, Lex, come on. Don’t be pissed.”

  She was really growing tired of his fake sweet expression. Crossing her arms, Alexandra gave him one of his own smirks. “You look ugly in orange. Too bad they don’t have stripes like in the movies. That’d be so much better on you and help you get a decent boyfriend in here. Maybe a little sex would improve your attitude
.”

  “What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m no homo.”

  Bingo. His sore spot was toast. “Gosh, talk about not taking a joke. I’m totally kidding, and you’re all flipping out.”

  He pointed at her with each word he said. “You didn’t mean that as a joke. You think I’m gay.”

  Holding open her hands as he had done earlier, she shook her head and adopted her most innocent expression. “I was joking around. You’re always such a drag.”

  Like she’d thought, he latched onto the one word hitting his insecure spot. “Drag? You think I dress in drag?”

  She laughed at the idea of him in heels and pearls. “No, never thought it, but you have to admit, it’s pretty funny.”

  “It’s stupid and you’re a dumb broad for thinking it.”

  That kind of stung, but she ignored it and smiled instead. “You were the one who brought up dressing in drag, so you’re the dumb broad.”

  He pointed at her again, emphasizing each word like before. “Fuck you. How do you like that?”

  “Whatever.” She added to the act with a huge and fake yawn, followed by a conspicuous look at her watch.

  “You don’t fool me, you stupid bitch. I know you’re pissed off.”

  “Such language.” She crossed her arms and leaned back. “No, I’m not pissed. You should be, though. A murderer too dumb to wipe for fingerprints framed you. Whoever killed your wife is one stupid man.”

  “Are you calling me stupid? You’re not calling me that because I didn’t kill her.”

  “I didn’t say you were. I’m saying the man who killed Sheila was an idiot. He did do one thing right. He didn’t leave his tire prints in your driveway.” She shrugged. “Everything else about the crime scene showed the killer lacked a brain.”

  “The killer wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing. She’s dead, after all.”

  Alexandra examined her fingernails to keep from staring at him. It wasn’t anything of a trap, yet Stan was walking into it like a pig to fresh slop. “Yeah, she is dead. I’m just wondering why a guy would walk out to your house, kill her, mess up the place, and run off without stealing anything. He’s pretty stupid to go to all that trouble, and even stupider to commit murder.”