Vivian and the Virus

Info silverhawk
13 Jul. '20

Well, things were going pretty smooth for me at the beginning of the year.  I made it through the Christmas shoplifting season without being hit with a purse full of stolen bras, panties, and assorted expensive perfume.  That’s what happened the year before.  The bras and panties weren’t hard at all.  The perfume was packaged in fucking glass bottles and they felt like rocks.  

It took half a fifth…excuse me…. half a 750 milliliter bottle of Glenfiddich and half a pack of cigarettes before my head stopped hurting.  I’ve never figured out why the fuck they changed from fifths to 750 milliliter bottles except to make me pay the same for 7 milliliters less scotch.

 I don’t like working store security, but during the Christmas season, people don’t normally need a PI, and it pays the bills.  Sometimes it’s kind of fun to see people stealing when they don’t think anybody is watching.  Usually, it’s boring as hell.  The women are all wearing coats or heavy sweaters so you can’t see how big their tits are and those coats and heavy sweaters make their asses look huge.  I like wide asses on a woman, but not as wide as they look then.

Anyway, New Year’s Eve rolled around and I was looking forward to another year of finding lost people and cheating spouses, and catching people claiming they’d been injured at work to the point they couldn’t do much of anything while they secretly fucked their girlfriends and/or boyfriends.

Wouldn’t you know some goddamned asshole in China was cooking up a big mess of stir-fried bats and ended up infecting the whole fucking world with a virus?  That was the first theory proposed by the experts.  There were others that followed.  I don’t think any of the experts know their asses from a hole in the ground about what really happened.  It doesn’t really matter anyway.  The result was along about the end of March most governors and mayors went into panic mode and shut down everything not considered to be “essential”.   They said we had to “flatten the curve” so the hospitals weren’t overrun with sick people.

I never read that PI’s weren’t considered to be essential in Tennessee, but I never read they were either. Since they couldn’t decide, I decided for them.  I decided I was pretty goddamned essential to me so I’d keep working.  The problem was most people in the whole fucking state were staying home and hiring a PI was the furthest thing from their mind.  

Nobody got lost because they were all at home.  No spouse could cheat because they were home with their wife or husband and had no excuse to slip out for a little poke the peach on the sly.  There was no way an employee could claim he or she was injured at work because they were either not working or were working from home.

Thank God they considered liquor stores and tobacco stores to be essential.  The day Tennessee shut down, I bought four bottles of Glenfiddich and four cartons of cigarettes just in case there was a run on them.  That was after I tried to buy toilet paper, but every place I checked was sold out.  I hadn’t read that the virus causes you to have the shits, but apparently a lot of housewives thought it might and considered toilet paper to be right up there at the top of their priority list.  They bought as much as they could cram into a shopping buggy and then went back for a second load.  

Being the logical guy that I am in spite of what my ex will tell you, I figured paper towels would work in a pinch.  They were sold out too.  It was the same with paper napkins, my third choice.

April didn’t start out too bad actually.  I stayed home, nursed my supply of scotch and cigarettes and toilet paper, and watched movies on TV.  At the end of week two, I was down to one bottle of scotch so I went to the liquor store and bought three more.  It’s a good thing I don’t drink vodka because they were out of that.  The guy said people were buying vodka to make hand sanitizer.

I was also out of frozen pizza, so I stopped by Walmart for some more.  Shopping was pretty easy because there weren’t many people in the store.  I picked up two cartons of cigarettes while I was there.  There was still no toilet paper or paper towels or napkins.  I was going to have to ration my toilet paper a little tighter.

Week three started to get boring.  I was on the second re-run of several movies and what the networks called “marathons” where they played a series of old TV shows over and over.  I tried the news a couple of times, but all they said was if I didn’t stay home, I’d catch the virus and die.  That was pretty depressing and caused me to drink more scotch than my daily ration, so I stopped looking at the news.

By the last week of April, I was going nuts.  I’d stopped watching movies and old TV shows and was looking at amateur porn on my computer.  Even that was a letdown.  You’d think people being at home with nothing to do would result in a slew of pictures of women showing their tits and pussies or couples having an afternoon plug and chug, but it didn’t.  

Finally at the end of April, Tennessee said enough is enough and started to open back up.  Well, bars and restaurants couldn’t open, but I never go to those anyway.  It was enough for me that people could get out of the house, fuck their fuckbuddies, and get lost.  I might get some work and I needed it.  My checking account was starting to screech for me to stop and I didn’t want to tap into my savings.  

For the next week, all I did was keep looking at porn because nobody walked through my office door and asked for help.  I did start getting a few subpoenas to serve.  The dedicated clerks down at the court house were back to work and trying to round up people with unpaid parking tickets and those who’d forgotten to pay their traffic tickets.

It was that way until the middle of May, though it was pretty easy to serve the subpoenas since most people were still at home because their jobs hadn’t come back yet.  They were even kinda nice about it.  I think that’s because I was the first person they’d seen in over a month who wasn’t living with them.  I never realized women don’t really get dressed until they leave the house.  There were a couple who were better than the porn I was watching.

I could understand how they felt the day Vivian walked into my office because she was a refreshing change.

Vivian Jeffers looked about forty and I had a feeling if she’d been into amateur porn, she’d have been a real hit.  It was warm in Tennessee then, well, hot as hell actually, and Vivian was baring as much skin as she could in order to stay cool.  Her T-shirt fit like a second skin over her big tits and her little shorts were showing some really smooth, really soft inner thighs.  I was sitting there wondering how those thighs would feel against my face when she cleared her throat.

“Mr. Meers, I need you to find my husband.  Can you do that?”

I grinned, partly because I finally had some real work and partly because she’d settled her weight on one hip and that cocked hip was reminding me of something else I hadn’t done in way too long.

“Sure I can.  It’s what I do.  Have a seat and tell me what happened.  Oh, and call me Harry.  If we’re going to work together, we need to be on a first name basis.  What’s yours?”

“My name is Vivian Jeffers.  My husband’s name is Greg, well, he likes to be called Gregory, but I call him Greg.  Gregory sounds so stuffy, don’t you think it does?  He only corrected me once and I told him he’d always be just Greg to me whether he liked it or not, but he corrects other people all the time.  Well, he did before we got shut up in our houses at the end of March.”

Why the fuck is it that when women get nervous about something they start talking a mile a minute about shit that doesn’t matter?  They all do it, and Vivian was doing it right then.  I was used to it, but it still pissed me off.  I didn’t want to piss her off though, so I played nice and smiled.

“OK, Vivian.  When did you see him last?”

She pulled out her cell phone and thumbed over the screen for a few seconds, and then frowned.

 “Here it is on the fifteenth of April.  Greg’s a registered nurse, and he was working days at Memorial when the virus hit.  First he was working his normal twelve hour shift – seven in the morning to seven at night – but when the cases started piling up, he said they were talking about making the nurses work every day instead of getting some days off.

“He called me that day to tell me that they’d gone over five hundred cases and he was going to have to work every day in order for the hospital to keep up.  He called me the next day and said it didn’t look like he’d be home for a while, and that he probably couldn’t call me because they were getting almost a hundred new cases a day and he didn’t have time.

“Well, I didn’t hear from him again after that.  I figured he was just busy, but you’d think they’d give him time to call his wife and tell her he was still alive, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes, I’d think they would.  Didn’t you try to call him between then and now?”

Vivian frowned.

“I did call him, every day, but it always went to voice mail.  His voice mail message said he’d call back as soon as he could, but he never did.  I tried calling the hospital too, but all they’d do was leave him a message.”

I stopped taking notes and looked up.

“Vivian, it sounds to me like your husband was just working so many hours all he has time to do is eat and sleep a few hours.  Tell you what I’ll do.  I know some of the people at Memorial.  I’ll go down and see if I can talk to him.  Let’s see how that goes.”

Vivian smiled.  

“I’d really appreciate it.  How much will it cost me?”

I hadn’t talked to Madge, the woman who works visitor reception at Memorial, in months and I was due for a visit anyway.  The last time I had Madge help me, well, it turned into a really great night and a great next morning.  If she hadn’t found another boyfriend in those months, maybe…

Besides, I didn’t have anything better to do.

“Vivian, this won’t take me any time at all, so how about if we say fifty?”  I’ll go down there today and call you and tell you what I find out.”

As Vivian walked out of my office, I couldn’t help but stare at the way her ass cheeks made this sexy little up and down motion inside her shorts.  If I’d have been her husband, I’d have had those cheeks in my hands every night.

When I got down to Memorial, the first thing I noticed was there weren’t many cars in the parking lot.  When I got to the door, I understood why.  The sign read,
“No visitation allowed except new fathers in Maternity until further notice.  Emergencies use the emergency entrance.”

I tried the door and it opened, so I walked inside and up to the desk.  Madge was there, wearing one of those funny looking masks like I saw on TV, a plastic face shield, and latex examination gloves.  She took one look at me and reached under her counter.

“Harry, it’s good to see you, but if you’re going to stay, you have to wear one of these.”

“Why?   I’m not sick.”

“Just because you don’t feel sick doesn’t mean you aren’t infected.  It’ll help keep you from getting infected too.”

I looked around at all the empty chairs.

“Who’s going to infect me?  There’s nobody here.”

Madge sighed.

“Harry, just put the damned thing on.  If you don’t I’m liable to get fired.”

Well I put it on and then pinched it against my nose when Madge told me to.  I felt like when I dressed up for Halloween as a kid.

I could tell Madge was smiling because of her eyes.

“OK, now you can stay.  What brings you down to virus central?  Looking for a way to get admitted so you can play with the nurses?”

I shook my head.

“Madge, you’re the only hospital worker I’ve ever played with and you spoiled me for all the others.  No, I just want to talk to one of your male nurses.  He hasn’t called his wife in two weeks and she’s worried about him.”

“That would be some woman named Vivian then.  I’ve pinned messages in the nurse’s lounge for her husband every time she’s called.  Most of them are worn to a frazzle though, so that’s probably why he hasn’t called her.”

I asked if Madge could tell me when he was off.  I figured I’d go to the cafeteria and just wait until he came in for something to eat.  Madge asked me his name, and when I said “Gregory Jeffers”, she typed that on her keyboard.  A few seconds later she turned back to me.

“I know why he hasn’t called her.  We don’t have a Gregory Jeffers on staff.”

“Well, she was sure this is where he worked.  Are you positive?”

Madge shook her head.

“Harry, any doctor or nurse or even maintenance workers and janitors have to have badges and when they get the badge, the system automatically logs them into the roster.  The only way he might have worked here and doesn’t work here now was if he quit or…give me a second.”

Madge typed something else on her keyboard, stared at the screen until it changed, and then typed something else and waited until the screen changed again.  When it did, she turned back to me.

“Found him.  He wasn’t a nurse who quit.  He was a patient who died five weeks ago from the virus.  He couldn’t have been a nurse though.  He was eighty-three.”

“Are you sure that’s the only Gregory Jeffers you’ve ever had?  My guy couldn’t have been that old unless his wife was into really older men.  She didn’t impress me that way, and she looked to be about forty or so.  Are you sure about the name and age?”

“Well, actually no.  Things were starting to get pretty hectic then, so things probably weren’t done like they usually are.  He was unresponsive when the EMT’s brought him in and they didn’t check for any identification because they were dispatched to another call as soon as they got him off their gurney and onto one of ours.  One of the ER nurses found his wallet laying on the gurney and found an old credit card inside.  The man never regained consciousness so they admitted him with that name and estimated his age.  I know that because of the note the nurse wrote on the admitting records.”

Now I had a lot more questions and still no answers.  

“Who took the body?”

Madge looked at her screen again and then back at me.

“Nobody.  We held him for a week and then notified the city coroner.  I assume he was cremated.  That’s what usually happens with unclaimed bodies.”

“Could I talk to the nurse who filled out the admitting paperwork?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to wait in the cafeteria until she gets a break.  That’ll be about four this afternoon.  Oh, and you have to keep the mask on.  Want me to leave Lacy a message that you’ll be there?”

It was two when I went to the cafeteria.  There wasn’t anybody there except a few really tired looking people in scrubs with their masks hanging under their chins.  The only food available was in the vending machines, I suppose because the only kitchen staff there were only making meals for the patients and staff.  I settled for a cup of vending machine coffee that tasted like the coffee I make when I run out of grounds and brew a second pot with the grounds already in the pot.

I was working on my third cup of that shit when an older woman walked into the cafeteria and up to my table.  

“Since you’re not wearing scrubs, you must be Harry Meers.   I’m Lacy Maddox.  Madge left me a message that you wanted to talk to me.”

When I said I was Harry Meers, Lacy pulled out a chair and sat down.  

“Well, let’s make it fast.  I only have about fifteen minutes.”

I asked Lacy about the man whose wallet she found on the stretcher.  She nodded.

“I remember him.  Looked like one of the homeless we sometimes get – really ragged clothes and hadn’t taken a bath in a long time.  He was a big guy too, maybe three, three fifty.  Took three of us nurses to wheel him into a slot in emergency.  I just happened to see the wallet because I was on that side of the gurney.”

“Madge said he never was conscious.  How did you know it was his wallet?”

Lacy sighed.

“I didn’t, but it was the only identification on the man.  When you’re getting people in as fast as we are, you don’t have time to be real thorough.  If he’d come to at some time, we’d have asked him for his name, but he didn’t.  He died right there in emergency so I used the only name I had.”

“You also estimated his age.  How sure are you about that?”

“Harry, I’ve been a nurse for almost thirty years.  When you see as many people as I have, you get pretty good at guessing ages.  He might have been anywhere between his late seventies or early eighties.  I just guessed eighty-three because that seemed like a reasonable number.  Does it really make a difference?  He’s dead.”

“No, not unless you were off by about forty years, and I doubt you were.  Thanks for talking with me.  Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Lacy stood up then.

“No, I need to get back to the ER.  I never drink that stuff anyway.  It’s not even coffee.  It’s just black stuff that tastes a little bit like coffee.  I bring my own from home.”

I kind of liked Lacy, and I didn’t think she was lying to me.  That didn’t leave me with much information useful to my case though.  The only man named Gregory Jeffers with any record at Memorial was a fat, homeless man who was now dead.  Somebody wasn’t telling me the truth, and neither Madge nor Lacy had any apparent reason to lie to me.

When I called Vivian, she couldn’t believe what I told her.

“Vivian, the woman I know at Memorial said they’ve never had a nurse named Gregory Jeffers.  The only Gregory Jeffers they’ve had since the virus started was an eighty-three year old fat guy who died in the emergency room.”

I could hear the anger in her voice.

“Greg was forty-two, not eighty-three, and he was slender, not fat.  Your friend must have been wrong.”

“Vivian, I’m sure she was right.  That only leaves a couple possibilities.  One is that your husband doesn’t work at Memorial and is working someplace else.  Are you sure he works at Memorial?  I mean, there are other hospitals in Nashville.  Maybe he said something about wanting to work at Memorial and you thought he was.”

“No, I know he worked at Memorial because I always took him to work and then picked him up at the end of his shift so I’d have the car.”

I didn’t understand why he’d be lying to Vivian about working at Memorial and staying there instead of coming home unless he was hiding something, and in my experience, what he was probably hiding was another woman.   The only way I’d know for sure was to find him and follow him to see where he went.

I wasn’t about to drive all over Nashville and ask if they had a nurse named Gregory Jeffers.  That would take at least two weeks and unless I knew the person at the desk really well, they probably wouldn’t tell me anyway.  It’s that fucking privacy thing people keep talking about since the social media sites sold their personal data to several companies.  

The other reason was since I hadn’t yet told Vivian my regular fee, I didn’t want to start actively looking for him until I got paid.  Call me a suspicious bastard, but she wouldn’t be the first to stiff a PI because he didn’t state his fee in advance of doing any work.

I decided one way that might work was to look at the registry of RN’s in Tennessee.  It’s public information if you know where to look.  It took a while to download the names of all the RN’s in Nashville, but I soon had that information along with practice address, education, and any special training.

When I scanned down the list looking for Gregory Jeffers, he wasn’t there.  I ran the search again, this time for the state of Tennessee and still turned up no Gregory Jeffers.  Thinking maybe Vivian had gotten his title wrong, I ran a search for LPN’s in Tennessee, and still didn’t find him.  A search for the other types of nurses registered in Tennessee gave me the same results.  I didn’t know what Gregory did for a living, but it sure as hell wasn’t being any kind of nurse.  

Just to make sure what I’d found was what I thought, I called Vivian again.  When she answered, I asked her when her husband got his RN license.  Her answer told me a lot.

“Well, I don’t really know.  He already had it when we got married.  Why?”

“Well, if he’s working as a nurse in Tennessee, he’d have to be registered.  
I can’t find any nurse with the name Gregory Jeffers in the Tennessee registry.”

It sounded like Vivian was tearing up when she answered.

“But he has to be.  I’ve seen his diploma and his registration.”

“Well, Vivian, I think something’s going on here that you’re not supposed to know about, and we need to talk about where you go from here.  Can you bring his diploma and registration to my office?  A picture of him would help too, if you have one.”

Vivian walked into my office two hours later.  She was wearing a different shirt this time, but it didn’t do anything to hide her big tits.  Her shorts were a little shorter this time too.

She sat down and then fished a folder out of a purse that looked big enough to be a shopping bag.

“Here’s Greg’s diploma and his registration papers.  I put the last picture we had taken in there too.  It was taken last summer when we went to Mussel Shoals on his vacation.”

I looked at the man in the picture for all of five seconds, and I was more suspicious after that five seconds than I had been before.  Gregory was a pretty good looking guy – tall and muscular, and his Speedo trunks left no doubt he was pretty well endowed and proud of that fact.  I’d seen the type before, and like the others, it probably wouldn’t be hard for him to find a woman who’d be more than happy to have him fuck her senseless.

I spent the rest of a minute or so looking at Vivian in the picture.  She was wearing a bikini that almost wasn’t there.  The top had her nipples covered, but her big tits sort of flowed out the top and sides.  The bottoms were pretty skimpy too, and it was pretty obvious she’d shaved most if not all of any bush she might have had.

The diploma was from Nashville Community College, and if I hadn’t seen a couple before, this one would have looked legit.  Laser printers are good enough nowadays to reproduce almost any document in a form that’s a nearly perfect copy.  You can still tell it’s a copy though if you look close enough.  Diplomas are printed on a printing press so the lettering and designs have sharp edges.  The lettering and scrolls on this one were a little fuzzy around the edges.  The other thing that tipped me off was the color of the ink around the name was a little bit different, like someone had erased the original name and re-colored the background before printing Gregory’s name.  There are a lot of picture editing programs that can do that to the extent it’s very hard to tell it was done.

The Certificate of Registration was the same, same slightly blurred characters and the same discoloration around Gregory’s name.

I looked up at Vivian then.

“Vivian, these are both fakes.”

Vivian frowned then.

“So Greg’s not a nurse?”

“I don’t know if he is or not.  What I do know is both documents are copies of an original with the original name removed and replaced by his.  I can find out, but I can’t do it for what you already paid me.  It’ll take too long and I have to be paid for my time.  My normal fee is three hundred a day with two day’s in advance.  Still want me to keep looking?”

Vivian didn’t even pause before answering.

“I don’t care what it costs.  I have to know what’s going on.”

I thought I knew, and that got confirmed a little more when I asked if she’d bring me her last bank statement and credit card bills.  Vivian frowned.

“I don’t know where they are.  Greg always took care of all the money stuff, and we don’t have any credit cards.  Greg said they were a sure way to get in debt over our heads.”

“You did have a joint bank account, didn’t you?”

Vivian nodded.

“Sure, and I have my own checkbook.”

“Well, if you go to the bank and ask them for a statement for the last couple of months, they’ll give it to you.  Why don’t you go do that and bring it to me tomorrow.  Oh, and while you’re there, pick up some cash.  I hate to ask you to do that, but if you pay me by check, I can’t start until the check clears.  It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’ve been burned before.”

Vivian did more than I asked.  She brought me their bank statements for the past year.  She sat down, hooked her right ankle over her left knee and stayed quiet while I looked at them.  

It took a while to go through everything for two reasons.  There were a lot of entries for deposits and checks, and Vivian’s little shorts were short enough I could see her pink panties peeking out of the open right leg.

What I found was interesting.  Most people get paid by check and the deposit record shows the originator of the check.  All the deposits in Vivian’s account had been made with cash.  The other thing that struck me as odd was Gregory’s apparent salary.  The deposit every month was a little over twenty five hundred dollars, but when I’d been looking up registered nurses, I found out the median income for a registered nurse in Tennessee is a little over twice that amount.  Even accounting for what the federal leaches skim off the top, there was a lot of money missing.

Another thing seemed odd, so I asked Vivian for her checkbook and compared the listed checks to her records.  It didn’t look like Gregory had written a check in at least the past year.

“Vivian, did Gregory have his own checkbook?”

“Sure.  He used checks to buy gas for the car and to make the house payment.”

I shook my head.

“Your bank statements don’t show that.  All the check numbers and amounts match up with the ones in your checkbook.  If he was paying for the house and buying gas with a check, he must have had a separate account somewhere.  I don’t know of any gas stations that take checks either.”

“So he lied to me about that too?”

“Looks like it to me.”

“So what do I do now?”

I smiled.

“Well, we know a lot more now than before, so you’re not going to do anything. We are going to find out where he is and what he’s trying to hide.  Give me a couple of days and we’ll know a lot more.”

The next morning, I drove over to Memorial to talk with Madge again.  Like before, she made me put on a mask before she’d let me talk.  When I showed her the picture, her eyes lit up.

“How could I not know him.  He’s Matt Rhodes and he worked ER up until about a month ago.  He had every nurse, including a couple of our male nurses, getting all hot and bothered any time they were around him…even me since I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

I was glad I was wearing a mask because Madge couldn’t see my smile when she said she didn’t have a boyfriend.  

“He quit?  Did he give a reason?”

Madge typed on her keyboard for a few seconds and then turned back.

“He said he was going to go to New York because they were short of nurses and they paid better than Memorial.”

Madge gave me his last address, and before I left, she asked if I was seeing anybody.  I just laughed.

“How the hell could I be seeing anybody when I’ve had to stay home for the last month?  The closest I’ve been to a woman is the women on TV.”

I could tell Madge was grinning.

“Well, when you’re ready, you let me know.  I haven’t forgotten the last time.”

As I walked out to my car, I was remembering that last time too.  Madge has this thing her pussy does when she’s about ready to cum that…well, someday I’ll have to tell you about that.

At about six that night, I drove by the address Madge had given me, and I was surprised to find it was a huge house in the historic area of Nashville.  There was a red Miata convertible parked in the drive with a license plate that read “NURS 1”.  Beside it was a blue Mercedes sedan with a plate that read “DR JULI”.  It looked to me like Greg or Matt or whatever the hell his real name was had another woman sleeping with him.  I couldn’t figure the size of the house though.  Even if he was making the top salary for a nurse in Nashville, he wouldn’t have been able to afford that much house.

I didn’t have my normal stake-out stuff with me – bottled water in an ice chest, a milk just for what happened to the water I drank, and my still and video cameras, so I went back to my office and searched the Tennessee registry for registered nurses named Matt Rhodes.  He turned up on the first search and was working for a Doctor Julia Moody.  It seemed likely she was the “DR JULI” on the license of the Mercedes.  I just had to prove that.

Back in my office, I looked up Doctor Julia Moody on both Google and Facebook.  Google gave me the address of her doctor’s office.  It was a block away from Memorial, so it would have been easy for Gregory/Matt to just have Vivian drop him at the hospital and then walk to her office.

Facebook gave me some information Vivian wasn’t going to like.  There was a post a month after Vivian’s husband told her he was staying at the hospital instead of coming home.  The post was a wedding picture of Vivian’s husband with a woman who looked to be at least ten years older.  The text at the bottom said, “Meet my new husband, Matt.”  We were married yesterday”.

On a hunch, I typed in the address where Gregory/Matt lived into the search block of the Nashville Recorder of Deeds.  It wasn’t a surprise when the owner turned out to be one Julia Moody.  I called Vivian then.

“Vivian, I found your husband, but you’re not gonna be very happy.  His real name, or at least the name on his real nurse registration is Matt Rhodes.  He did work at Memorial up until the first part of April.  Then, he told them he was going to go to New York and work with virus patients there.  He didn’t though.  He got a job as a nurse in a doctor’s office.  She’s a woman and apparently they started living together the day he called you and said he’d be staying at the hospital.  About a week ago, they got married.  

Vivian didn’t say anything for a while, but when she did, I could tell she was mad.

“He married another woman when he was already married to me?”

“Yes.  She put their wedding picture on her Facebook page.”

“What’s her name?  I wanna go talk to her.  She needs to know about this too.”

I’d have given my left nut to be there when they met.  I had a feeling it was going to be a very interesting and intense conversation.  The old saying is “there is no hell like a woman scorned” or some shit like that.  I thought both Vivian and Julia were both going to feel pretty fucking scorned after they talked.  I found out a month later that I’d underestimated them both.

I’d finished a frozen dinner and was sitting at my desk looking at some notices to appear before the Nashville traffic court.  Once things loosened up a little, people started to drive again and they got parking and speeding tickets in the process.  The clerks down at the courthouse started issuing subpoenas for those people to appear in court, and I had a dozen to serve.  I was glad to get them.  They pay most of my bills.

Anyway, I was sitting there getting comfortably buzzed on my half jelly jar of Glenfiddich when someone knocked on my office door.  I answered it because I can’t afford to turn down any client and especially so after I’d spent almost two months with no income.

It was Vivian in another tight shirt and little shorts.

“I thought you might like to know how things turned out with Greg, I mean Matt.”

I asked her in and pointed her to a seat in front of my desk.  Vivian sat down, and crossed her legs like before.  This time her panties were black.  When I sat down, she pointed to my jelly jar.

“You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those around, would you?  I could use a drink right about now.”

I reached into my bottom desk drawer and took out my spare jelly jar, wiped out the dust with a tissue, and then half filled it with Glenfiddich.  Vivian took a sip, coughed a little, took another, bigger sip, and then grinned.

“I usually drink vodka sours, but I could get used to this.  What is it?”

“It’s really good scotch.  That’s the only thing I drink.  So, what happened with your husband?”

Vivian took another sip, shuddered a little, and then smiled.

“She’s a really nice woman, did you know that?  She’s fifty-one and lost her first husband three years ago.  He divorced her to go marry a woman who was twenty-five.   

“I called her and said I needed to tell her something about her husband.  We met at Centennial Park so Matt wouldn’t know we were talking.  I took our marriage license, the fake copies of his diploma and registration and that same picture of us together with me.

“When I told her he was already married to me, she didn’t believe me so I showed her our picture and our marriage license.  That’s when she started to get really mad and I could understand why.

“Julia hired Matt because her other nurse quit to go to New York and work with the virus patients.  That’s where Matt got the story he told them at Memorial.  What he was doing after he quit was every day I dropped him at the hospital, he’d go in through the visitors door and wait until I left.  Then he’d walk to Julia’s office.  She’d seen him doing that and asked him why, but he told her he took the bus and the bus stop on her street was a longer walk.

“It took him only a week to start telling her she was a pretty woman and why hadn’t some man married her by now because he would.  Well, you can imagine how that made her feel.  I mean, I’m forty and I don’t attract men like I used to before my boobs and butt started to sag.  Julia had given up because of what her husband did to her, and here was this handsome guy telling her she was sexy and everything.  

“That’s when she bought him a car.  She said she felt bad that he had to take the bus.  He thanked her that afternoon at her house, and you can guess how he thanked her.  I know now that Matt’s a jerk, but he’s a great lover.  He moved in with her the same day he called me and said he was going to stay at the hospital instead of coming home.

“It was two weeks after that that he proposed to her.  The poor woman was so carried away by him she accepted.  They were married in Pigeon Forge two weeks later.

“When I asked her how much she was paying him to be her nurse, it was almost three times what you found he’d deposited in our bank account.  What we figure is he’d opened a bank account and was depositing his paychecks there.  Then, he’d withdraw enough cash I wouldn’t run out of money and deposit it in our joint account.  He must have been making the house payment from his other account like you said because I’ve not gotten any past due notices from the mortgage company.

“Well, Julia cried after that, but it wasn’t really a sad cry.  She was crying because she felt like she was stupid for letting him get to her like he did.  I hugged her and finally convinced her that the problem wasn’t her and that Matt was just a jerk.  After that, we decided what we were going to do to him.”

Vivian took a long sip of her scotch, shuddered again, and then grinned.

“We got back at him good.  We went down to the police station and swore out a complaint on him for bigamy.  They went right out and arrested him and brought him back to the police station.  When they asked him about it, he said he didn’t know anything about me and that Julia was the only woman he’d ever married.  

“The detective then showed him the picture of us at Mussel Shoals.  I guess he tried to say he’d just met me there and that I wanted a picture with him.  Then the detective showed him our marriage license and the fake diploma and nurse’s registration along with the marriage license Julia had given them.  Matt had to admit to bigamy then.

I’d told the detective about the man who died in Memorial while Matt was working in the ER, so he asked Matt how the guy happened to have the same name as the one on the marriage license, diploma, and nurse’s registration.  Matt said he put the wallet on the stretcher so they’d think the man was him.  That way, Gregory Jeffers would be reported dead and he’d be rid of me.  He didn’t think I’d find out until the man was already cremated, but he didn’t count on me hiring you.

The detective told him he was also going to be charged with falsifying the marriage license and nurse’s registration and with submitting false evidence about a death, but if he’d plead guilty to bigamy, they’d drop those charges.

“Well, he got out on bail, but Julia wouldn’t let him live with her and I wouldn’t let him come back.  He spent the time until his trial in a motel room.  Julia also took back his car.  She’d been smart enough to keep the title in her name so she could claim the car as a business expense.

“When he went to trial, Matt pled guilty and got sentenced to a month in jail and a two thousand dollar fine.  He thought it was over, but we weren’t done with him yet.

“We both filed for divorce.  Julia’s was granted the day she filed because the marriage wasn't legal.  I had to wait for three more weeks, but I’m divorced now too, and I got the house and most of Matt’s bank account.  It was almost fifty thousand dollars, so I’m set pretty well for a while.  I’m going to find a job though so I don’t have to spend very much of it.

“While I was waiting, Julia contacted the Tennessee Board of Nursing and told them about how Matt had forged his registration papers.  Since that was technically fraud, they took away his real registration and now he can’t work as a nurse in Tennessee.

“I haven’t heard from him since, but Julia said she got a call last week from a nursing home in Alabama wanting to know if he’d ever worked for her.  She told them all about him, so he probably still doesn’t have a job.”

Well, they’d done more to the bastard than I thought they would.  I still had one question about the whole thing though.

“He didn’t happen to say why he didn’t use his real name when he married you, did he”.

Vivian grinned.

“That’s the best part.  See, my daddy has money, and Matt thought I’d get it when Daddy went to his reward.  What he planned is to stay married to me until then, take all the money, and then disappear.  That’s why he used a fake name, so nobody could track him down.  He got tired of waiting for Daddy to die, so he married Julia for the same reason.”

I smiled.

“So, you and Julia are both happy now?”

Vivian grinned.

“Well, yes and no.  We both are glad he’s gone, but there were some things Matt was really good at.  A couple of those things I miss a lot, and I was wondering if you could help me one more time.  I don’t know anybody else I trust enough to ask.”

Before I could answer, Vivian stood up and pulled her T-shirt over her head.  I already knew her tits were pretty big.  What I didn’t know was she wore those bras that are suppose to flatten a woman out so she doesn’t look quite as big as she is.  When she unhooked her bra, her tits sort of fell down and then swung back and forth while she slipped the straps off her shoulders.

She looked down at me and grinned.

“I know you’ve been staring at my boobs.  Well, are they what you thought they’d be?”

“Better”, was all I could say, because Vivian was in the process of taking off her shorts and I was looking at the crotch of her black lace thong panties.  I was still staring when she rolled them down her hips.  Just like I thought, she was shaved except for a little patch at the top of her pussy lips.

Vivian reached down and rubbed that little patch and then purred, “You’ll like my little woo-woo too.  Matt always said I was really tight, and I get really wet.  I haven’t been screwed in over a month and I’m really wet right now”.

Well, she was, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t get wetter after I got her in my bed and played with her tits and nipples a little.  I didn’t know her very well, so I was kind of working my way up to things, but Vivian wasn’t having any of that.  I was nibbling at her left nipple when Vivian mashed my face down on her tit and murmured, “Suck…hard”.  I did, but apparently not hard enough, because she moaned, “You can suck harder than that.  Bite a little too.”

Now, I’ve not had a lot of women, but I do know how they usually react when I suck their nipples.  They moan a little and one or two have gasped, but Vivian had them all beat.  I’d just sucked her left nipple hard and then pinched it between my teeth when she lurched her hips and gasped, “Pinch the other one hard at the same time”.  

It wasn’t long before Vivian was rolling her ass around and moving it up and down, so I figured it was time for a finger in her pussy.  She was right about being tight.  Even though Vivian opened her legs wide, my finger was still a snug fit.  I was wondering how I was going to get my cock to go in when she lurched her hips up, her pussy sort of pushed out and then went back in, and I felt a gush of wet warmth on my hand.

The same damned thing happened when I curled that finger up and rubbed in and out, except this time, her ass moved up farther and she gasped, “Put it in now.”

Between me pushing in with my stiff cock and all the gyrations Vivian was making with her hips, my cock head went in a little.  Usually, I’d have pulled back out and then made a few strokes like that, but Vivian didn’t give me the chance.  She dug her nails into my ass and rammed her pussy up.  She was so tight I had to work at not cumming right then and there.  

It got harder to hold on because she didn’t get my cock all the way in and started this rocking of her hips that slowly inched her pussy over my cock.  I’ll tell you, it was the damnedest thing I’d ever felt.  By the time she’d flattened her pussy lips into her thighs with the base of my cock, I was trying to remember the names of all my aunts and uncles to take away some of the sensations.

Once she had my cock firmly bedded, she relaxed enough it slipped halfway out and then whispered, “Now, screw me Harry.”

Well, I did try, though Vivian did most of the work.  She met every stroke by lifting her hips and sort of impaling her pussy on my cock.  It wasn’t long before she was starting to pant and trying to speed things up, neither of which was helping me keep from letting to and cumming.  Thankfully, a minute or so later, she dug her heels into my mattress, dug her nails into my ass again, gave her hips a heave that lifted us both up and gasped, “Oh, God, Harry.  Don’t stop.  I’m there.”

That when I would usually have sped up my strokes a little, but Vivian didn’t give me a chance.  She held her breath for a few seconds, then cried out, and her pussy started rocking over my cock so fast there was no way I could hold back.  I don’t know how many times my cock spurted because there wasn’t really any definite start and stop.  I just let Vivian jack my cock with her tight, wet pussy and groaned a few times.

When her legs finally stopped quivering and her pussy stopped rocking, Vivian pulled me down against her big tits.

“Harry, that was great.  How long before you can get it up again?”

As I lay there with my softening cock slowly slipping out of Vivian’s pussy, I was thinking Matt Rhodes was a goddamned fucking fool.  If Vivian fucked him like she’d just fucked me, he had to be nuts to go off looking for another woman.  I’d seen it before though.  The guy thinks he’s God’s gift to women and wants to give himself to as many as he can.  

Well, my cock got hard about half an hour later thanks in part to Vivian jacking it and sucking it.  When it did, she didn’t fuck around with foreplay.  She just straddled my cock, pushed her pussy down over it, and then fucked me like it was the last fuck she’d ever have.  She didn’t have to tell me what she wanted when she leaned down and stuck her big tits in my face.  When I bit her left nipple and pinched and rolled the right, she slammed her pussy down over my cock and gasped, “Don’t stop doing that.  I’m almost there again.”

If I hadn’t been pushing my cock up when she came that time, I think she’d have broken my bed slats.  She was still riding my cock after we’d both cum, but once her pussy stopped squeezing my cock, she eased down on my chest and stuck her face between my neck and shoulder.  She didn’t say anything until my cock slipped out of her.  Then she giggled.

“I think I’ll stay with you tonight.  You’ll be ready again in the morning, won’t you?”

Well, I was and we did, though it was a little less physical.  I’d evidently taken the edge off Vivian’s libido a little.  She was still a great fuck though.  It was the way she just let herself go and did whatever her body was telling her to do I think.

Anyway, after a cup of coffee, she got dressed, kissed me goodbye, and said she might be over to see me in a week of so.  I went back to bed and slept until almost noon.  Fucking that hard can wear a guy out.

That afternoon, I went back to Memorial to tell Madge about Gregory Jeffers.  Like before, she made me put on a mask before she’d talk to me.  

“Madge, it probably doesn’t help any, but I know how your homeless fat guy got mistaken for Gregory Jeffers.  It was your former ER nurse, Matt Rhodes.”

I went on to tell her how he’d pretended to be Gregory Jeffers to his wife and then had married another woman as Matt Rhodes.  

“So, is the bastard in jail?”, she asked.

“He was, but only for a month.  He’s still in trouble over forging the diploma and nurse’s registration though.  It’s gonna be hard for him to get a job as a nurse.  Do you suppose there’s any way to identify who the guy really was?  I mean, he had to have family somewhere and they’d probably like to know he’s dead.”

Madge nodded.

“Now that we know he wasn’t Gregory Jeffers, we probably can.  They did an autopsy to determine cause of death, so they might still have tissue samples.  If they do, they can get his DNA from them and compare it with the database from one of the ancestry sites.  It’s been done before.

Madge winked at me then.

“Harry, you busy this weekend?”

“No, why?”

“I’d just like to talk to somebody with out this damned mask on.  I sound like a cartoon character and so do you.”

Madge’s eyes sort of got all sparkly then.

“Of course, if you wanted to do more than just talk, I wouldn’t stop you.  It’s been over two months for that too, and you know how I can get.”

Well I do know how Madge can get.  I figure if I get lots of rest for the next couple of days, I’ll be ready for how she gets.  That won’t be hard because other than some subpoenas I have to serve, I don’t have much to do.  Maybe she’ll do that thing with her pussy just before she comes.  I hope so.

 

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