Bay of Deception Read Online Free

last question was all scream and the knife edged closer to his chest once again.
    “Please, Linda,” Oliver groaned.  “I went down to Carmel beach for a jog and just lost track of time.”             
    “For two goddamn hours, Oliver!  You’ve been sitting in the sand for two fucking hours!”  She poked him for emphasis and her voice grew dangerously quiet.  “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” 
    More than anything at right that moment, he wished his wife were that stupid.  But in their eight years of marriage, she’d proven to be sharp and at times, paranoid as hell about their relationship.  As a result, he knew that Linda was far more likely to believe a guy-oriented lie than the boring truth.
    “Okay, okay, you caught me.”  He lifted both hands in surrender.  “A couple of us guys went down to Doc Rickets.  John Collinson and...” 
    “ YOU LIAR !”  She screamed.  Her hands began to tremble and the knife nicked him again and again.  “I called there THREE times, you piece of shit.  Each time you were nowhere to be found, even when I said it was an emergency.”  Then, as if a light had switched off, her hands stopped trembling, “Don’t lie to me again, Ollie.  Tell me where you were... and who with .” 
    His mind raced, understanding now that she was only waiting for her worst fears to be confirmed before embedding the seven-inch blade into his chest.  He thought of the best way to disarm a knife-wielding attacker, desperately trying to recall the tactics of his police academy training.  Most were useless when you were unarmed, out of uniform and dressed only in sweat pants. 
    “If you’ll...” 
    “TELL ME!”  
    “Linda, will you listen...” Another jab to his chest and he stepped back and she followed, keeping him within knife reach.  He thought about the scene and how it would appear; a woman dressed in her best holding a knife to a man wearing only sweats.
    “ WHO WERE YOU WITH ?” she screamed, becoming more shrill by the second.  " TELL ME NOW!  TELL ME!! ” 
    He winced as each outburst prodded the knife deeper, his chest now marked with small gouges. He flirted with the idea of making somebody up; tried to think of somebody who wouldn’t suffer the wrath of his poor choice.
    “ TELL ME, OLIVER!  TELL ME !’ TELL ME! TELLLL MEEEE !”  Her screams became more mantra than question and in horror, he watched Linda snap mentally as she pulled the knife back above her head and without thinking, used the only weapons available.  As the blade arced toward him, his fists shot out toward her chest and sent her tumbling backward.  The blade slipped from Linda’s grip as she fell toward the table behind her and though he reached for the knife, it eluded his grasp and followed her to the floor. 
    “LINDA!”  He shouted.
    Barely missing the table’s edge, Linda's head came down solidly onto one of its thin metal legs.  The tumbling knife cut her stockings and brushed her bare thigh before coming to rest against her still form. 
    He dropped down beside her.
    “Linda? " he cried out.  "Linda?  Are you okay?” 
    She blinked up at him once, then again and he laughed, relieved that she was all right, “You got crazy there for a minute.”  She blinked again, this time more slowly, but still without making a sound.  “Linda?” 
    Her eyes rolled upward until only the whites showed and seconds later, she began convulsing the way he’d seen a young epileptic do only weeks before. 
    “ LINDA !  Oh my God! ” 
    He ran for the portable phone and dialed 911, torn at leaving her side.  He knew however, that she might die right on their kitchen floor if medical help didn't arrive very soon.  He ran back, dropped beside her, then pulled her onto his lap as the emergency operator came on, Linda's body convulsing in his arms.
    “Please state the nature of your emergency and your address.” 
    “My wife’s gone into convulsions, " he