Day 30 - Kevin's side of the story

"What forgery?" Teresa asked.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten how we financed this whole operation."

"You forged the signature. I only provided the account number, and you tricked me into doing it in the first place."

"Doesn't that make you an accomplice in the crime?"

"You tricked me."

"Don't tell me that you gave me that account number not knowing what I was going to do with it?"

"I trusted you and I really regret it now."

"You think anybody will believe that?"

"You can't prove my involvement."

"You don't think I was stupid enough not to take certain precautions, incase you turned against me."

"You're bluffing."

"We'll see about that."

My mind went back to the day I had convinced Teresa to give me Ed’s bank personal account number. The account I had already carefully gauged was the safest to withdraw funds from without causing any suspicion. We were in bed after a passionate session of lovemaking. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and I had organized the whole rendezvous knowing in my mind exactly what I wanted to achieve out of it.

“I really miss that with Ed,” Teresa purred.

“Ed can’t really be all that bad.”

“He is and then some. And don’t forget he’s sick and it’s beginning to show.”

“Me and you, is it just sex Teresa?”

“That’s an unfair question, Kevin.”

“But can I get an answer?”

“You know I care about you and you are still a married man as of this minute. What should I expect?”

“You’re also married.”

“Yes, but you know we no longer even share a bedroom with Ed.”

“But I need you to go back to his bedroom.”

“What the hell for?”

“To prove that you love me, or care for me, or whatever your feelings for me are.”

“How do I do that by going back to Ed’s bed?”

“I’ll tell you after you accept.”

“How can I accept when I do not know what the motive is.”

“The motive is for you to make up with a poor dying man.”

“Even if I accepted, how would I go about that? He hasn’t said anything to me. How do I tell him I found out he was dying.”

“You don’t have to tell him. Just show concern for the way he looks so pale these days. You know the drill.”

“No Kevin, I don’t know the drill.”

I could sense that this conversation was going dangerously out of control and I had to do something about it, fast. I did.

“Do you care enough about me to trust me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Then I’ll tell you what I need, you don’t ask me any questions. You just tell me if you can do it or not.”

“Okay.”

“I need the account number for his main personal checking account.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“That is easy.”

And that is how easy it had been getting the information from her.

But now my mind was rudely dragged away from the past to the present and immediate danger. Because Teresa had grabbed my revolver from the floor and was now aiming it at me. I froze in fear regretting the fact that I had underestimated her. Was it going to cost me my life?