Finders Keepers

Chapter One

George Townsend looked out the balcony window at the rushing river below. The breeze gently blew his unbuttoned shirt open and allowed the warm air to caress his body. Raking his fingers through his sandy brown hair he tried to find a reason, any reason to talk himself out of what he was about to do. There was no tears in his hazel eyes, just sadness.

To a casual observer he looked like he had it all. At six feet tall he had a muscular build and a natural tan to his skin that seemed almost golden. His wife had always been jealous of his coloring. She claimed he'd make beautiful babies. He glanced at his reflection in the window and saw a broken man not a sex god that could make all submit to his every whim.

Never had he felt so alone, so unloved. He gazed back at the sleeping form behind him. He could hear her purring in her sleep. He had made love to her like his life depended on it. He had worshiped her body like it was the last time that he would do so. He didn't think about charts, temperatures or optimum levels. He loved her like a husband should love his wife.

A psychologist would say that he was just suffering from stress. Baby making stress. Daphne wanted a baby and for the past two years, he had read every book, gone to every doctor and been subjected to every test imaginable. But they still hadn't conceived. Sometimes he was glad. He hadn't been happy in their marriage for quite some time.

They had married immediately after graduating from college. He with his MBA and she with her degree in public relations. He readily found employment but her father convinced him to come work for the family company where the perks would be greater.

He didn't dislike his job, he didn't dislike all the money they were making but it was like he was living someone else's life. Was he just making the decision because his wife or father in-law suggested it or was it coming from him?

He could further hear the psychologist say that he could have made the decision to not work for the family company. But he saw what had happened to his brother in-law, now considered the black sheep of the family. Every conversation ended, "If only he had come work for the family."

So George had endured as best he could. Smiling on cue, attending all the required functions and trying desperately to love his life. He could have had extra marital affairs, but he didn't. He could have used business funds for personal expenses, but he didn't. He didn't take up a physical sport or start hanging out at the bar. He came home and would read. He read anything he could get his hands, especially mysteries and crime dramas. Daphne didn't seem to mind as long as he provided his sperm every other night.

Recently he had begun to question if he ever loved her. They had always hung out. They had been up late one night and soon their studying turned to other nocturnal activities. Neither really talked about it but soon they were regular bedfellows. The sex had been really good. Even though his heart wasn't always into it, he had made sure to be an attentive lover.

Daphne, like her father, always had a plan. She achieved all her goals, graduating at 22, married at 23, getting her Master's at 25 and running the PR department for her father's company. Now she wanted a baby. And she was becoming increasing annoyed that she hadn't had one. Her thirtieth birthday was just around the corner and she was running out of time to do the rest of her list.

George had never made a list. Growing up in a middle class family and just enjoying day to day events had been enough for his family. His father had always told him to going into a career that will be more than just a job. For the most part he had done what his father advised, he just never should have gone to work for his father in-law. Plans and decisions were always presented as suggestions but the undertone was this is what we want you to do.

When Daphne began to implore the same tactics in their personal life, he knew he had gone with the flow long enough. He had thought about overdosing but that seemed too melodramatic. He had never touched a gun in his life so that was out and hanging himself seemed too Hollywood.

Daphne had "suggested" that use the chateau up in Big Bear for special alone time. Translation, I want a baby and maybe we just need to be somewhere romantic for you to make it happen. George had agreed but he knew that this was his final straw, he had to leave all this unhappiness behind.

He had to give her credit she had played it real cool on the flight up and the drive to the resort. He knew if she could have she would have humped him all the way up the mountain, in the lobby and in the elevator. She atleast let him eat dinner before she began to pull out the charts and spreadsheets. While she was in the tub he had sipped some wine and gazed out their balcony window. The river below seemed to angrily flow by. Leaning over the side he knew if he cleared the building he would land in the water below. Carried away from all his cares.

George entered the bathroom and began to help her wash. He lit a few candles and picked her up out of the tub and gently dried her. Each time she would try to speak he would kiss her. He almost laughed at the puzzled look she gave him as he began to take control of their love making. He took his time as he kissed her entire body. She was quivering beneath him when he finally entered her. He made sure to torture her slowly, putting his climax on hold to make her come a few times before he released himself. Saying good bye with is body was giving him a new euphoria.

Now she lay snoring. In all their six years together he had never caused her to fall asleep after sex. She would lay on her back, supposedly giving his sperm extra time to hit their target. Not tonight. She wasn't thinking about anything. She would wake up feeling good, which he hoped would help once she discovered what he had done.

He walked back to the bed and adjusted the covers over her nude form. "I hope you find all you seek and will finally meet your match." He took the note he had written months ago and placed it on the dresser. The message was simple

I'm sorry. Good-bye.

George walked back to the balcony and looked at the railing. "Should I just jump in or sit on the railing and cast myself in?" He deferred to the later only to get his shirt stuck on one of the posts. He yanked at it, hearing a ripping sound. Sitting on the rail he looked up at the moonless sky and asked that he be forgiven for not being strong enough to prevent being pushed around.

With no further thought he cast himself into the river below.

Daphne Werd-Townsend felt wonderful. Her body was still humming from the love making the night before. George had really outdone himself. Maybe she could get him to do that thing with his tongue again. Reaching across the bed she felt empty space. Rising slightly she didn't hear or see anything. The room felt cold and she noticed the balcony doors wide open. "Wow we must've really made it hot in here." Pushing her blond hair back from her face she moved to the side of the bed and rose slowly. "Good lord George, I don't think I can walk yet. Do you think you can close the doors when you come out of the bathroom?"

She waited for a response. After another moment she called out again. "George?" Still hearing nothing from the bathroom she tried standing and once she was sure on her feet she moved toward the doors. She was finding it hard to concentrate as her body felt one the verge of another climax. Pushing the doors closed she took a few deep, calming breaths.

Once she was confident she wouldn't fall she went to the bed and put her robe on. She knocked on the bathroom door and the door opened. "George?" Only her echo answered her back. She decided to shower and get dressed. Maybe he went down to breakfast. Maybe I wore him out too.

An hour later she entered the resort restaurant and still saw no sign of George. She asked at the front desk, but now one had seen him after their check-in the day before. Rushing back to the room she called the house, the office and then her father. Mr. Werd arrived five hours later. Daphne had called the local sheriff and a report was being made.

"Why would anyone kidnap George?" She was drawn from her theorizing when the detective asked her had she seen this note.

"What note?" He handed it to her and she sat in stone silence. The detective took the note from her and had her give a detailed account for what happened in the room after they checked in. She commented on how sweet and gentle George had been the night before.

"Did you see your husband this morning Mrs. Townsend?"

"That's Weld-Townsend. No, I woke up and I noticed the balcony doors open. I called out to him to close them but when he didn't respond I finally was able to make it across the room and close them myself."

Daphne watched the detective walk across the room to the double doors. He opened them and squatted just outside the entrance. He called his partner over and pointed to the small piece of material that still hung from the posts on the railing.

"Had you ever known your husband to be suicidal Mrs. Weld-Townsend?"

"No we had a wonderful life. We were planning on starting our family." Daphne's hands went to her throat. How could he do this to her? I'm sorry, good-bye. She began to shake with fury.

Mr. Weld put his arm around his daughter. "Officers what is the next course of action?"

"Well, we will go down to the river and start investigating there. We will see what we find and then we will report back to you. If we do not find his body within 48 hours we can either report him missing for another 48 hours or you can have him pronounced dead."

"I don't understand. We were so happy. Work was great, we had made a lot of money and everything was falling into place." Daphne whined.

"Ma'am was there any stress that your husband was under, either from work or from his social life?"

"No we all worked together. He didn't go out, he would come home and read for hours on end. We didn't have any enemies. I have known this man since college. I would have known if something was wrong."

Not if you were the cause of the stress. Never have I seen someone so self-centered. "One final question ma'am. If you do not believe he killed himself what do you believe his note means?"

Daphne sat in silence. What was this cop inferring? "I don't know, maybe he wanted a divorce. I can't understand why but I am very confused. Seems I didn't know my husband after all."

The detective thought that was probably the truest statement she ever said. They took pictures of the balcony and collected the note as evidence. The dogs would be out soon trying to catch a scent, and they would see where the river took them. Two miles down was the rapids and there wasn't much chance of surviving that stretch of the river. One blow to the head would be enough to cause fatal harm.

Daphne took the business card the detective handed her and began to pace about the room.

"Daph you might as well start making funeral arrangements."

"What! Already? Daddy are you sure? What if they find him."

"Honey do you think he's going to be in any condition to take care of you? Its best to accept the worse now so you can move on."

"If you think that is best."

"Yes I do. Let's get your things and get you back to the house." Daphne nodded and began to put her things in her suitcase. It was then that she noticed George had barely packed anything. Bastard had been planning this from the beginning. That's what she got for picking a weak man.

Later that night a sperm will penetrate the lone ovum sitting in Daphne's fallopian tube. She will not notice a thing while she removes all of George's things from the penthouse and plans a grandiose funeral service. She has yet to shed a tear but she likes how "my late husband" sounds when she talks to her friends.