Free 3 Strange Bedfellows by Matt Witten Page B

establish permanent world peace and pitch the Red Sox into the World Series."
    "Just humor me, will you? I'm trying to keep my mind off the fact I may be going to jail for the next hundred and twenty years."
    I didn't know how to respond to that.
    "And Jake?"
    "Yeah."
    "Don't lose faith in yourself, you're the best. I love you, man."
    Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, I thought as I hung up the phone. But my life sure would be a lot simpler if I'd just gotten a different college roommate. What was I supposed to do now—
    Answer the doorbell, that's what. It was ringing. So I went to the door and opened it.
    Standing there in front of me was the bleached blonde bombshell.
    I'd never seen Linda Medwick in sunlight before. With her soft skin and light smattering of freckles, she turned out to be one of those women who look even better in the daytime. Her low-cut, tight white T-shirt and short pink gym shorts didn't hurt her looks any, either.
    "Come in," I said.
    I held the door open for her, and she brushed against me as she walked past into the living room. For a second I wondered if it was intentional, then decided I was imagining things. She sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs.
    "Can I get you something?" I asked.
    She shook her head, her mane flying around as she did so. She'd done something extra to her hair this morning, and she looked like the second coming of Farrah Fawcett.
    "My husband says you know about my affair with Jack," she said.
    I perched on the chair across from the sofa. "Yes, I do," I answered.
    "Why do you care about it?"
    "You have to admit, it does give your husband a good motive."
    She looked puzzled. "For what?"
    "For murder."
    She stared at me a moment, then threw out an unhappy laugh. "Ducky wouldn't kill anyone over me. He doesn't even like me. We're getting a divorce."
    "When did he find out about you and the Ha —you and Jack?"
    I didn't expect a straight answer, but she proceeded to actually give me one. Something smelled fishy here. On the other hand, if she was willing to spill the beans with so little effort on my part, who was I to complain?
    Her answer was: "Ducky found out about us last week. It was horrible . I forgot to lock the door to Jack's office, and Ducky just walked in." She put her head in her hands. "Oh God, I'm so embarrassed."
    Suddenly she burst into tears. I'd have suspected they were fake, except that she was crying for real when I caught her unawares in the Hack's office yesterday.
    She gazed up at me with her moist hazel eyes. "I loved Jack, and now he's gone. I don't have anyone. I'm so lonely."
    She sobbed some more, and I got up to give her a Kleenex. When I handed it to her, she gently took hold of my wrist. "Thank you," she said softly. "God, you don't know how much I need a little kindness right now. I'd give anything to just forget my troubles for a while."
    She looked at me, her lips parted. I looked back, and I couldn't help myself: I got that old familiar tightening in my jeans.
    Hey, you probably think I'm a chump, falling for such a corny pickup line. But what can I say? Having a Farrah Fawcett lookalike in a skimpy white T-shirt suggestively stroking my arm just took my breath away. I never knew wrists could be so erogenous. And on top of that, it sure would be a kick to fool around with the wife of State Senate Majority Leader Ducky Medwick.
    I guess men are just plain dogs.
    But I guess I'll never know exactly how doggish we are. I like to think I would've resisted temptation, but I can't prove it, because just at that moment the phone rang. It broke the spell, and Farrah the Second let go of me.
    "Excuse me," I said, blushing, and practically ran to the kitchen, where I grabbed the phone and said, "Hello?" Actually, that "Hello?" was more like a shout. I didn't quite have control of my voice yet.
    "Is something wrong?" my wife said over the phone.
    "No!" I shouted again, and then fought to rein in my volume and act normal. "Why would you think