I waited outside of the examining room while Marika was checked and samples were taken. After a few minutes, I was approached by an older police officer in plain clothes.                                                                                                                                

“Are you Mr. Robert Thomas?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m detective Folly and I have a few questions to ask concerning Mrs. Thomas. Could you follow me?”

We went into a small room with a small round table and a few cheap stackable chairs. The walls were stark with only a single clock over the door.

“Before we begin, do you mind if I record this?”

I hesitated but replied, “No, go right ahead.”

He placed the recorder on the table, clicked it on and asked, “State your name and explain the events of last night as well as you can remember?”

“My name is Jack Thomas. I don’t know very much. Marika, my wife, texted me saying she would be late because she was meeting a client. When it got really late, I tried to call her, but it went straight to voicemail. I fell asleep in my chair while waiting and didn’t wake up until a car drove up.”

“Did you see if she was with someone?”

“No. I waited for her to come in. After a few minutes, I heard her fumbling with the lock as the car drove away. When I opened the door, I found her leaning on the door frame. She was barely conscious, so I carried her into the bathroom and cleaned her up.”

“Does she do this often?”

“What often?”

“Stay out late drinking.”

“No. Never. This was totally out of character for her.”

“Do you have any thoughts about the message that was written on her?”

“Nothing more than what you probably already concluded. I have no other thoughts other than someone was sending a message.

“Can you think of anyone that is seeking vengeance on your wife or you?”

“Well… I just finished a high-profile murder trial that upset a lot of people.”

“Yeah… I’m familiar… you got that killer free.”

“Actually, the jury did that after it was discovered there was fabricated evidence used.”

“Do you feel proud of yourself for turning that scum loose on the street?”

“I just did my job as a defense attorney… but this is about my wife, not me.”

“What do you attribute this sudden change of behavior to?”

“Well… whatever she did it was bizarre behavior for her for sure.”

“Do you think she was forced into something against her will?”

 “As an attorney I can say that is a complex definition. Coercion can be painted with a broad brush covering a wide range from the obvious to the subtle.”

He looked over his notes on his spiral pad and asked, “From your own testimony, why did it take this long to determine your wife might have been forced to have sex against her will?”

“She told our therapist she wasn’t. What was I supposed to do?” I rubbed my temples and said, “At the time I assumed she went out on a date and things had got out of hand. We’re not in the best place right now in our marriage.”

“Your wife goes on dates?”

“Well, no… not really. I mean… we’re in the process of a divorce and I thought maybe…”

“Has she ever done anything like this before?”

“No, you already asked that—not to my knowledge.”

 “I was informed we have found your wife’s car and it’s now in our impound.”

“Where was it found?”

 “It was discovered parked at a Motel Six. We’re examining the security footage at the motel and the car for physical evidence. The person or service that dropped her off at your house must have gotten her address from her purse or car registration. According to your testimony, she didn’t seem coherent enough to drive herself.”

“What do we do now?”

“I’ll have to bring your wife into questioning. It’s possible she might be protecting someone, or this could be a case of blackmail. If this is a vengeance situation, I suggest you and your family might consider staying with a friend or relative—at least until we have some solid information.”

The questioning continued till there was a tap on the door by a female uniformed officer.

“Your wife is ready to go home,” she said.

The detective talked in private with the female officer before saying, “Our preliminary examination suggests your wife had sex with multiple partners. The DNA test will reveal more, but that evidence won’t be available until tomorrow or the next day.” The detective closed his note pad, handed me his business card and said, “We’ll stay in touch. If you can think of anything more, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

*****

We called Marika’s mom and asked her if we could stay with her. The drive home was mostly in silence. I eventually asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

She seemed shaken when she replied, “What do you think? The police exam was a violation in itself! I don’t remember very much Jack! But being held in a room full of strangers probing and photographing me in my most intimate places was humiliating.” She burst out in tears.

I felt guilty for some reason, even though she said she couldn’t remember much, I sensed there was more… but I remained silent. I saw no reason to fan the flames of an already volatile situation.

When we drove up to the house, Marika’s mom was waiting with Timmy. I knew she would eventually need an explanation of what was going on between Marika and I but decided to wait for a better opportunity when our son wasn’t present.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Marsha said, giving her daughter a long hug.

Tears kept streaming down Marika’s cheeks. I took Timmy inside and prepared him for bed. It was already over an hour past his bedtime.

“Daddy, wass da matter with Mommy?”

“Mommy is not feeling so well right now, but she will be better soon. We’ll pray for her before you go to sleep,” I said, helping him put on his pajamas.

How do you explain to a five-year-old his mother went out on a bender and had sex with multiple men?

Marika and her mom continued to talk in private. I wondered how much she possibly revealed about our situation when I walked past them into the kitchen. They stopped talking until I was out of range. After about ten minutes, Marsha came and hugged me without saying a word.

“Look,” I said, “I’m going back to our house to get a few things because I have no clothes or toiletries here.”

“Jack, I have no clue why my daughter is doing this to you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to her.”

*****

As soon as I walked out the front door, I heard my phone ring.

“This is Jack,” I said.

“Jack, Detective Folly. I have some news. The security system at the motel yielded some results. Have you ever heard the name Andre Hearst before?”

“No, it doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He’s a small-time video-pornographer. He rented a room at the same motel we found your wife’s car. He used an alias, but we recognized him. We are trying to contact him, but it seems he doesn’t have a studio or permanent address. Do you mind if I talk with your wife?”

“I guess not. Let me ask her and call you back. She’s with her mother right now.”

“Okay, but in the meantime, you might want to look at his website: blkbull.com, that’s spelled, B-L-K…”

“Why?”

“If he’s connected with what happened to your wife—as it appears, he might be, it is a felony If he has used your wife in a video without her consent.”

“Is that what you think happened?”

“I suspect so, but I need to discuss this with your wife before we go there.”

“Would you mind if I talked with her first?”

“Of course, but it is imperative she talk with me as soon as possible.”

I walked back into the house while still on the phone. Marika was talking with her mom.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“That was Folly. He has more information and wants to talk with you. Here is his card.” I dropped it on the entry desk by the phone. “I’m going to check my emails if you need me.”

I left her and went into the den. After taking out my laptop, I logged onto the website I was given by the detective. It wasn’t a surprise to find it was a porn site, but much to my relief, I found no trace of my wife

Why did Folly give me this link? I wondered. How is this connected with Marika?

The opening page had several photos of what appeared to be barely legal girls in various poses.

Suddenly Marika walked in and I closed my laptop. “Jack, what did the detective want to discuss with me? I’m pretty much questioned out. This is getting a bit ridiculous at this point. I feel horrible for what I did. I just want to put everything behind me. I don’t understand why the police have to get involved.”

What the fuck is she hiding?

“I think he has new information,” I said. “He asked if I ever heard the name Andre Hearst.”

Marika’s face instantly went pale. She tried to answer but couldn’t speak. “I… Uh… oh my God.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks while she trembled. I put my arms around her and held her tight. At that point I knew there was definitely a connection.

“I… I’m so sorry.” Marika sobbed. “I tried to warn you there were things about me you didn’t know… a lot of things.”

“So, you know this Andre character?”

She nodded yes.

“From where? Who is he?”

“Jack… do you really want to know? He was part of my past before we married.”

“You don’t have to tell me, but Folly wants to know, so I’m pretty sure I’ll eventually find out. I love you no matter what. Tell me now or I discover it later.”

“You say that now, but I’m not so sure about that,” she said between sobs.

“Take your time. If it was before we met, I won’t judge you. Who is this guy?”

“He… he was my… agent.” Her voice shook.

“What the hell? Your agent?”

“Let me explain. When I was an undergrad, I answered an advertisement seeking models. Everyone always said I should be one, even my parents. Anyway, I needed the money because my folks were struggling financially after my dad got laid off. Andre said he’d pay me to model and that I’d only needed to pose within my comfort zone.”

“So, did you agree?”

“I didn’t at first, but he promised five hundred per session. It took me over a week of waiting tables to earn that much, so I agreed, feeling I had nothing to lose. The first three sessions went as he promised. I posed in a sundress and in a bikini. The money was easy. Then… after I quit my waitress job, he said I needed to up my game and show more skin. I asked, how much skin? He told me the more I revealed, the more he would pay.”

“Sweetheart, you look upset. You don’t need to share more if you don’t want to. How about we take a break and have a glass of wine?”

“Okay, but I want you to know the truth. I’m sick of hiding.” She walked toward the kitchen and found an opened bottle of Riesling.

I wasn’t much into sweet wine, but the only other choice was some Cherry. I poured us each a glass and sat at the bar. I could sense Marika was vulnerable in her emotional state.

“Do you have any of your modeling pictures I could see?” I asked.

She looked up at me with red swollen eyes and said, “My mom has a few in one of her albums beside the fireplace.”

I got up and looked. Her mom was very organized, and it took only seconds for me to find it. I took the album back to the kitchen and opened it up. The first pages were just her baby pictures followed chronologically by her elementary school, high school and college. One thing was clear: she was extremely photogenic. Then I discovered what I was looking for. There was a whole series of pictures professionally taken. Everything from portraits to poses in bikinis that revealed her magnificent body.

“My God, these are beautiful, Marika. I knew you professionally modeled but hadn’t seen your photos until now.”

“Now you know.”

“Is there more?”

She stared at me for several seconds before replying, “Unfortunately there is.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to show them to me?”

“Actually, it does—but since you know this much, I’ll share it all. You must understand most of this happened before we ever met. I never intended to hurt you. Let’s take this up to the bedroom where we have some privacy. Bring your laptop.”

*****

I washed at the sink while Marika showered. When she got into bed, she opened my computer and asked, “Password?”

“It’s your name.”

“Wow, that’s original.” She laughed.

She quickly typed in a web address. The opening page was classier than the one Folly gave me, but It was still a pay-per-view porn site. She entered a code into the members entry and almost instantly a selection of nude pictures appeared. It took me a few seconds to realize this was Marika in a brunette wig. My heart dropped. The picture was my wife, but the name listed was “Misty.” Each individual picture was a link to additional photos and videos.

She put the computer on my lap and said, “There you go. It’s all there… have fun.” Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Holy shit!  That looks a lot like you,” I said, stunned.

“That’s because it is.”

“I can’t believe it. This couldn’t be you.”

“You could never be more wrong about anything in your life. Go ahead, view the woman you married.”

I looked at the captions listed on the photo icons: Anal, Cream-pie, Blowjobs, Gang bang, and Bondage. I didn’t want to open any of them, but Marika clicked the Gang bang selection.

I was covered in sweat as the video started; the picture was crystal clear. It opened with her sitting on the end of the bed fully clothed, being interviewed. The cameraman asked her several things about her life, and she answered very convincingly. However, I knew her answers weren’t true. She was obviously an excellent actress.

As the camera panned around the room, there must have been five or six highly muscled men hovering around her. Most had towels wrapped around their waist, except for one that was totally nude, stroking a humongous cock.

“Oh my God!” I gasped. “I can’t watch this.”

“Yes, you can, and you will. You wanted to know my sordid past? Well, here it is in living color. Remember, I warned you.”                   

When I looked back at the screen, all the men had dropped their towels and together they began ripping off her clothing. All of them were groping her in some way or waiting their turn. The one with the giant penis was on his knees attempting to force his monstrous veined snake into her mouth.

It was difficult coming to grips with the fact that that was my wife. I was in a state of shock. The biggest surprise for me was how much she seemed to be enjoying everything that was happening to her. She didn’t seem coerced in any way. I watched with disgust as the men used her for their pleasure. However, to my own embarrassment, I was undeniably aroused.

One extremely endowed guy attempted to shove his entire cock into her with absolutely no resistance from her. They changed positions until she was on top and another guy pushed himself into her anus. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. I was disgusted but strangely turned on. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Actually, looking at those men… I feel woefully inadequate.”

Marika reached under the laptop, gripped my raging erection and looked in my face. “I knew it! You’re no different than other men, are you?”

“I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t turned on watching my beautiful wife have sex, but the difference is that you know I love you. This smut changes nothing.”

“Bull crap! Are you saying that finding out your wife is a porn actress doesn’t change anything for you?”

“I’m not saying that it doesn’t change things, but I will do anything to keep us together. I believe there was a reason you did all this—including your drunken night out. That’s not who you are at your core, Marika.”

“Jack, I want to believe you. How can you watch this disgusting video and say all that? I made twenty-three of these films and fucked dozens of men. Did I have a reason for debasing myself like this? I guess saying that I did it for the money doesn’t justify anything. If I fuck for money that ultimately means I’m a whore.”

“I believe there are many just like you that became seduced by the money. I won’t judge you and it doesn’t change who you are.”

“I was as naïve as they come. When I first started to model it was so easy and I got used to the fast cash. Pretty soon it progressed from bikinis to posing nude and then posing nude with male models. From there, it was a small step to doing porn. At first, I was just used as an extra, but viewers wanted to see more of me. Eventually, Andre offered me my first starring role. It was a porn western satire called, Ride her Hard. I said no initially, but he convinced me that with a wig and makeup, no one would recognize me. Like a fool, I agreed. That’s when he chose to give me the stage name Misty.”

I looked back at the video where she was now being spit roasted and I honestly said, “From this video it appears you’re really enjoying your work.”

She glared at me and replied, “It’s called acting!”

“Are you saying you weren’t enjoying it?”

“First of all, being gang fucked by giant cocks when you’re not emotionally connected is not in the least pleasurable. In fact, it can be extremely painful. What you don’t see are the hot lights, the sound man, and the director with all his assistants. Plus, you risk your life to disease every time you do it without protection.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I already answered that. I was able to earn enough to completely pay for both my undergraduate degree and graduate degrees. Where else could I earn that kind of money? Before you even ask, I quit porn before we married, but once you’re in the game they don’t let you go.”

“Since you’re coming clean with all this, I have to ask, did you ever ‘model’ while we were dating?”

She looked away and didn’t answer.

“I guess that answered my question… How many times?”

“Jack, I’m so sorry… yes, I made a couple videos, but none after we got married.” She sobbed.

It didn’t sit well for me that she basically cuckolded me while we dated.

Marika seemed to sense my impending question and said, “Don’t worry, Timmy is yours. I had a test before we married. I was on birth control but it’s not perfect.”

I closed the laptop and said, “Getting back to our immediate situation… Folly thinks Andre is somehow connected with the night you got wasted.”

“I can’t remember all the details and I’m sick of constantly reminding everyone I can’t remember! This isn’t a ‘Me Too’ moment, Jack! For fuck’s sake! I got drunk and acted impulsively! People black-out when they drink too much, you know?”

I completely ignored her and said, “I think Folly wants this Andre guy behind bars. He must have something on him, but not enough evidence to put him away.”

“No one can change the narrative. I know what happened.”

“But you don’t remember all the details.”

“Exactly. I won’t say I was raped and throw around accusations when I can’t even fucking remember!”

“Marika, please tell me you’re not protecting anyone.”

“Stop it.”

“I just—”

“Why can’t you just accept the fact that I went out got hammered and made some very bad decisions?”

Ouch.

“Is that what you want to hear, Jack? Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“What is it you want me to say to you? Because it feels like you’re pushing me to call you a whore!”

“It’s definitely what you’re thinking deep down. Why don’t you just man up and have the balls to say it!”

“Quit putting words in my mouth. I’m not giving up on you.”

“Once a whore always a whore, right? Now you have video evidence to prove it.” She pointed at the laptop.

“Why are you trying to fight with me, Marika? I’m doing my best to work on our marriage and fix us.”

“Some things can’t be fixed!” She blew up and paced around the bedroom before she calmed down and said through tears, “Fuck! I hate Andre! He used me like I was his property and still contacts me constantly demanding I make more videos. I keep telling him to go fuck himself, but he threatens to expose me. I’m so glad you know the truth now, but please don’t confront him.”

“Marika, can I ask you something important?”

“I already know what you’re going to ask but go ahead.”

“Was this the real reason you filed for divorce? Because he threatened to expose you?”

She looked like she was about to cry. “You have no idea what he’s capable of. He said they’d hurt you, Timmy and my family. You can’t reason with him.”

“So, that night… when you came home drunk… you were blackmailed and forced?”

“No. I promise I wasn’t. I was drunk and not thinking clearly. I made some poor choices out of extreme self-loathing.”

“Look, sweetie, I don’t give a rats ass about your past. We can figure this out together, but no more lies.”

“Okay, but please promise you won’t confront Andre. He’s a really bad man.”

“Are you going to stop this ridiculous divorce and work with me to resolve all this?”

“Only if you promise to not go after Andre.” She looked resolute.

“I will promise to not physically confront him, but I’m an attorney just as you are. We have skills he never dreamed of. By the time we finish with him, he’ll curse the day he met you.”

“That sounds great—he’s not alone, though. It’s a huge connected conglomerate of crime. Andre is small potatoes.”

“So, he has a boss he’s answerable to?” I asked.

“Hmmm, I guess so, but I don’t know who.”

“Then let’s find out.”

I could see that our discussion was upsetting her tremendously. I wanted to know more but decided to leave it for the time being. As I set aside the computer, I turned out the lights and snuggled up to my wife. She wept when I pulled her tightly in my arms.

“I love you,” I whispered.

After a short pause, she said, “I love you, too.”

*****

When I woke the next morning, I was surprisingly well rested. Last night was the first time in months I’d had a whole night’s sleep. Marika was already up, and I could hear her moving about in the kitchen. I knew I needed to get going but I didn’t want to escape the confines of my covers. I looked at the laptop beside the bed and fought the growing desire to log on to that website and watch more of my wife’s videos. I was embarrassed that I’d been so turned on by seeing her having sex with other men.

Shouldn’t I be angry at her or at least disgusted? This was a revelation to me.

After a few more minutes of procrastinating, I pulled off the covers and hung my leg off the bed. I lacked motivation, knowing the backload of cases facing me at work. Between the crushing work schedule and pending divorce, I was emotionally drained.

“Jack, your breakfast is almost ready,” Marika called out.

“I’ll be right there,” I answered, putting the razor down and wiping away the remaining shaving cream.

As I entered the kitchen, Marika was dressed for work and Timmy was wolfing down his waffles. She set my oatmeal on the table and said, “Your omelet is almost done. I’ve got to run. Can you drop off Timmy on your way?”

“Sure, but don’t forget to call Folly.”

She didn’t acknowledge my request and I decided not to push the issue. After I dropped off Timmy to his class, I headed to the police station to talk with Detective Folly myself. I was worried about my wife and son’s security after Marika revealed Andre’s connection with the underworld.

I walked into the crowded lobby and asked the uniformed officer at the front desk if Detective Folly was in.

She glanced at me, preoccupied with a report in front of her and replied, “Take a seat, I’ll get to you as soon as I can… Name?”

“I’m Jack Thomas. He’s in charge of my wife’s case.”

She looked irritated as she reached for her phone and talked a few seconds before saying, “His office is on the second floor. Wear this.” She handed me a visitor’s badge.

I walked up the stairs, passing a holding cell and into a large room; it was crowded with desks and people hustling about. A plain clothed officer pointed to Folly’s office at the far end of the room. The door was open. He saw me coming, but I tapped on the door frame anyway.

“Ahhh, Mr. Thomas. Just the man I wanted to talk with.”

“I thought I’d stop by and see what the results of the tests were.”

He sorted through a stack of files and looked carefully at the findings before saying, “Take a seat. This might take a while.”

I sat and waited. Something about cops made me nervous and guilty for no reason at all. I decided to put on a poker-face to hide my anxiety.

“The DNA showed some surprising results,” said Folly. “It showed that your wife recently had intercourse with multiple partners—including you.”

“She’s my wife. We were intimate a day before the incident. That’s not unusual, is it?”

“Not in itself, but didn’t you say you were divorced?” he asked, drumming his pen on the desk.

“The divorce isn’t final yet and we’re trying to reconcile.”

“There’s one more thing… Forensics show that your skin was under her fingernails. How do you explain that?”

“Marika can get very… passionate at times. Are you suggesting I’m connected with this?”

“I’m just following the evidence. Your testimony says that you were home at the night in question. Do you have anyone to support that?”

“This is crazy. I was home with my son. I had no knowledge of her whereabouts until I was woken by the sound of a car in my driveway. My wife insists she was no violated. Why are you treating this as a criminal investigation?”

“Calm down, Mr. Thomas. You’re not a suspect—and I have my own reasons, which I cannot disclose right now. But I must ask you one more question.”

“What?”

He searched through some pictures in a file and held up a booking photo of a black man with graying hair.

“Do you recognize this man?”

I carefully looked at it. I didn’t recognize him, but I had a thought of who he might be.

“I’ve never seen him before. Who is he?”

“That’s not important. What was it you came to ask me?”

“I told my wife you had called. I think she needs some solitude right now. She doesn’t want to be dragged into a police case that she has nothing to do with.”

Folly flashed a patronizing smile and said, “I’ll stay in touch, Mr. Thomas. If her story changes, don’t hesitate to call.”

I reluctantly shook his hand and walked out. I thought about all that had occurred, and there were a lot of gaps left to fill in.

After settling into my office, I called in Doug from our research department and gave him what information I had, but I hesitated to reveal Marika’s webpage. He asked who to bill his research to and I simply told him, “Me.” Then, as he was about to leave, I decided to give him Marika’s (Misty’s) web address with explicit instructions that it was for his eyes only.