Pity and a Shame

Chapter 9

A few Years Ago

L.T. Winslow worked as an investigator for the law firm handling the disposition of the estate of Paynter Gough's great aunt. Using their authority, he was able to track down the bank where Paynter, the sole remaining relative, did business before his disastrous proposal to Gwendolyn Armitage.

From there he followed the trail to Europe and finally to Wiesbaden, connecting all the bits and pieces of information about the travel arrangements, and zeroing in on the actual hotel where they stayed. Here he learned more about Gwendolyn and another man who always seemed to accompany them.

Winslow dug thoroughly into every corner, ferreting out the tiniest of details until he had the entire picture of the trio's relationship. When he finally found her, Gwendolyn seemed more than eager to help him locate Paynter, confirming his theory that she was out of funds and companionship – the mysterious third man called Mickey, no longer around.

Winslow returned from overseas and continued his methodical search, until he successfully found the down-and-out Paynter serving a weekend stay for vagrancy in a small town jail. With a speed borne of experience and efficiency, he settled all the legalities of the inheritance, delivered Paynter to the property, wished him good luck and departed.

Paynter made no inquiries as to his discovery and no information was given – Gwendolyn, as far as Winslow was concerned, was a dead issue.

Present Day

The tree branch slapping against the roof in the wind was driving her crazy. Lying on the bed, she stared at the spot on the ceiling where the noise was loudest. The room was drafty, poorly maintained and sparsely furnished, but she had found it the perfect location – that was, until the accident. She got up from the bed, went over to the tiny dresser and poured a stiff drink from the emptying bottle of bourbon, watching herself in the mirror as she drank.

The hair was still in good shape, a little shorter and darker than before but still blonde, the skin losing a tad of elasticity around the eyes and throat; thank god for makeup. She leaned closer and studied her eyes. The sparkling green seemed to have dulled to a slate grey; everything was losing its lustre, she thought. The branch whacked the roof again and she hurled the empty glass across the room, swearing aloud.

Gwen thought that with the sudden appearance of the strangely quiet, tiny investigator asking about Paynter, she might be in line for the insurance policy he once mentioned—assuming of course, he hadn't changed it. L.T. Winslow explained how he had traced her through the banks and hotels used in her travels about Europe and the trail of extravagant spending by she and her companion.

He accepted her help while divulging nothing, letting cautionary phrases and subtle innuendo sate her presumptions. It wasn't until he checked out of the hotel and left for the airport that Gwendolyn realized he'd used her.

She cursed aloud again as she crawled around, gingerly picking up the pieces of broken glass and carrying them to the wastebasket in the bathroom. Outside, the wind shifted and the slapping sound of the branches changed to an annoying scrape on the shingled roof.

Gwen unwrapped another glass and carried it back into the bedroom, pouring a new, stiff drink and flopping back down on the bed. She sipped it slowly, watching the jerky shadows on the ugly drapes covering the window; she imagined long fingers waving eerily as though to hypnotize her.

Following Winslow back from Europe was no easy task and she smirked, thinking about the machinations required to get airline flights and travel information. The man was good, no question. So good, he'd led her right to Paynter's doorstep.

The wind changed again, causing the branch to resume its slapping on the roof. Gwen started, spilling a few droplets of her drink onto her sweater. She drained the glass and set it on the nightstand then pulled off her sweater and tossed it onto the side chair. All these petty annoyances had become the story of her recent life.

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Paynter hung in the open doorway as though supported by a string. His mouth hung open, moving silently in surprise. He blinked and dragged a dirty sleeve across his eyes, staggering off balance from the action.

"Are you alright, Paynt?" Gwen stepped inside the farmhouse and supported his arm.

"What- what are you doing here?" He didn't wait for a reply, spinning away and lurching into the living room. She followed, taking in the dreary surroundings and closing her nose to the sour smell in the air.

"Paynter, what's happened to you?" Her concern was almost genuine. She hadn't expected to find her ex lover in such a sordid state.

Bloodshot eyes sought out hers, holding them with an uncomfortable intensity. "What's happened? You ask me what's happened?" He snatched the bourbon bottle from the table and gulped down a mouthful, choking and coughing as it burned its way into his stomach. "You betrayed me over fifteen years ago, stealing all my money, money I had set aside for both of us..."

He stumbled a couple of steps toward her. "Then you and your old friend, Mickey blew it all over Europe, pausing only long enough to send your cruel postcards..." He sobbed aloud, losing his tongue and shaking his head in anguish.

"Mickey and I split up," she said, as though the information would temper his view of her behaviour.

Paynter snorted and waved her away. "What do you want here anyway?"

"You told me back then that you made me beneficiary of an insurance policy and I thought maybe we could cash it in now instead. I need money, Paynter." Sobriety washed over him in a huge, pounding wave as he stared incredulously, listening to the unmitigated gall of her request.

"You what!"

"Oh c'mon, Paynter. You have all this and I have nothing now. Isn't that justice enough for you? I'm broke." The remorselessness of her statement struck him like a fist and he hurled the empty bottle past her ear, roaring with rage.

"Get out! Get out of my house!" He stumbled toward her, his eyes brimming with tears, his fists clenched. "Get out of here now!"

Startled, and suddenly frightened for her safety, Gwen backed quickly out of the room, stooping to pick up the bottle as a weapon. When Paynter kept advancing, she screamed and threw it at him, striking him on the head and knocking him to the ground.

The sound was a sickening crunch and she caught her breath, gasping aloud as a puddle of blood seeped onto the wood floor.