Abby

Abby and I got married as soon as I finished law school. I already had a job lined up with a large law firm and Abby was working as a computer technology consultant to school districts around Chicago. Soon after we married we bought a duplex in the suburbs. We planned to live in one side of the house and rent out the other to help with the mortgage payments. Then when we were ready to buy a nicer house we could either sell the duplex or rent out both sides.

For the next two years our life was great. We both worked hard to establish our careers but we always had time for each other. No matter how busy we were we made sure that we took the time to talk. One of our favorite times together was Sunday mornings. On those mornings we would walk to the local Starbucks and get two coffees and four blueberry scones. We would take the coffee and scones home and enjoy them as we read the Sunday paper and talked. The first time we did that Abby looked over at me just after I had finished my first scone and asked me if I loved her.

I said, "If I say yes can I have another scone?"

Every Sunday after that Abby would ask me if I loved her and I would give that same response.

In addition to enjoying each other's company we also made love at least three times a week usually more often.

I guess things began to change the day one of the senior partners asked me to have lunch with him. During lunch he told me that they (all 9 of the senior partners) were impressed with my work. He said that if I kept up the good work I could expect to make Junior Partner in about two years, which was about two years faster than usual.

That night when I got home and told Abby about it she was happy for me and told me she was very proud of me. I told her that I was going to have to work even harder now to make sure that I didn't disappoint the Senior Partners, and that is exactly what I did.

I started working late at night and going into the office on weekends. There were a lot of missed dinners and missed social events but Abby was supportive and I kept telling her that as soon as I made junior partner things would be different.

I was working so hard that until Abby mentioned to me we weren't making love as often as we used to, I wasn't aware of it. I promised her that I would make it up to her. I told her that we would go out to dinner that Friday night and make it a romantic evening and possibly a romantic weekend. On Friday I was given a case to research and quickly became so involved in it that I lost track of the time and I also forgot that I had promised to take Abby out to dinner.

When I got home at nine o'clock Abby was still dressed for dinner. She was wearing a strapless black cocktail dress with black stockings. I always loved it when she dressed that way. Whenever she wore that dress I knew I would be taking the dress off her later and sampling the treasures hidden beneath it. When I saw what she was wearing I knew I was in trouble.

I apologized for being late and asked if she still wanted to go out.

Abby said, "It's too late now. I think I'll just go to bed. Will you be up soon?"

I said, No, I have a couple of briefs I need to read over."

It didn't occur to me until later that Abby had given me another chance to make amends. All I had to do was go upstairs and make love to her, but I blew it.

Unfortunately that was not the last time. Coming home late and forgetting promises became the norm. Abby was patient with me for a long time but occasionally she would let me know that she wasn't happy.

She'd say, "I don't know how long I can take this. I want my husband back."

I never knew how to react to this so I would always respond by saying, "Things will get better as soon as I make Junior Partner."

This went on for more than a year before Abby finally had enough and dropped the bomb on me. I came home from work one night found Abby sitting in the living room and next to her on the floor were two suitcases. I said, "What's this?"

Abby said, "I am going to my mother's."

I said, "What's wrong? Is your mother all right?"

"My mother is fine. It's our marriage that's not all right. I am leaving you."

I felt as though she hit me with a shovel.

I said, "Why."

"You know why. Our marriage has been falling apart for more than a year now and you have done nothing to try and save it."

"I have been working hard to provide us with a good future. I am just a few months away from being a Junior Partner. After that I can ease up. Everything will be better then.

"Things will never change. The Junior Partnership is more important to you than I am. You've become a workaholic. Once you make Junior Partner nothing will change. You are obsessed with your job."

"I can change. Please, at least give me a chance."

"I've been giving you a chance for the last two years, but you haven't changed. I can't do this anymore." She stood and picked up her bags and headed for the door.

I said, "What is this really about? Have you found someone else?"

"There is no one else. Don't try to make me the bad person here."

I was beginning to lose my temper, which caused me to say the wrong things to her.

I said, "How can you do this to me? If it gets out at the office that my wife walked out one me it could hurt my career."

Abby had tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry but I have to go."

I stood there in disbelief as I watched the door close behind her.

I guess I was in denial for a few days. I kept thinking that this would blow over and Abby would come back but I finally realized that she wasn't coming back. I tried calling her. The first few times Abby wouldn't speak to me. When she finally did, I asked her when she was coming back and she said that she didn't think she would be coming back.

She said, "I am thinking of asking for a divorce."

"No. Please don't do that. I can't afford to get involved in a divorce. If word gets out at the office it could ruin everything for me."

"I wouldn't dream of hurting your precious career. I guess there's no hurry. I am going to look for an apartment. When I find one I'll come get the rest of my things."

After the call I was miserable. I couldn't stand the idea of not having Abby with me. How could she have left me? She knew that I loved her. I started thinking about her having her own apartment and it worried me. She had been staying with her mother so I was confident that she wasn't seeing anyone else, but if she was living by herself she could start seeing other men and I wouldn't know. I couldn't stand that. Then an idea came to me.

I called Abby and said, "I have an idea that will help both of us."

"You can't keep calling me like this."

I said, "Just listen to me please?"

"I'm listening."

I said, "On Saturday our tenants are moving out of the duplex. Why don't you move in? That will give you a good place to live in a safe neighborhood and it will cost you less than an apartment that would be much smaller."

"I don't know if it would be such a good idea for us to be living that close together."

"I'll leave you alone. You can come and go as you please and having you next door will make it less likely that anyone at the firm will find out that we're separated."

"It figures that you thought of this as a way to protect your career, but it does make sense. I would rather live there than in the city. Let me know when the apartment is empty and I'll move my stuff in."

Two weeks later Abby was living next door to me. She avoided me as much as possible and we only occasionally ran into each other outside. I tried to keep my word and leave her alone but I covertly kept track of her activity.

For the first couple of months Abby was always home from work by the time I got there and I didn't see any men coming around. Then one night I heard someone ring the doorbell next door. I peeked out the window and saw a guy I didn't recognize standing at the door. In a minute Abby came out of the house and the two of them got into his car and drove off.

It drove myself crazy for the rest of the evening. I paced around the house and looked out the window every time I heard a car drive by. It was around midnight when they returned and Abby's friend walked her to the door. I watched from watched from my window as Abby unlocked her door. When she had the door opened she turned to the guy and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then she went into the house and closed the door.

I was relieved to see this guy get in his car and drive away. At least she didn't invite him in this time but if she went out with him again what would happen? What did this guy mean to her? Was she falling in love with him? Such were the questions that kept me from sleeping that night.

It wasn't till the following Saturday night that Abby went out with him again. I waited up till nearly one o'clock in the morning for them to come back. Again, she kissed him goodnight at the door but this time she kissed him on the mouth.

The next morning I was outside doing some yard work when Abby came out of the house to put her garbage bag in the trash can. We hadn't spoken to each other in more than two weeks so my initial greeting was probably not the best way to start a conversation.

I said, "So who's the new boyfriend?"

The look Abby gave me told me that I should have kept my mouth shut.

"His name is Ben and he is just a friend."

I should have let it go at that but I couldn't stop myself.

I said, "Just a friend? So does that mean Ben isn't fucking you yet?"

Abby looked at me and I could see the anger in her eyes.

She said, "You bastard. Don't you ever talk to me that way again. I thought you were going to let me move on with my life but if you are going to be this way I guess I'll have to move somewhere else and then I will file for divorce."

I didn't want her to do either of those things so I said I was sorry and that I would not bother her anymore.

She just stared at me for a minute and went back into the house.

That Monday at work I was distracted by my thoughts about Abby. If she continued going out with Ben or with other men and she invited them into her apartment, how would I deal with not knowing what she was doing with them? I couldn't stand the idea of her having sex with someone else but I also couldn't stand the idea not knowing what she was doing with other men. I thought for a moment of suggesting that she move, but I really didn't want her to leave.

At noon, even though I wasn't hungry, I went down to the building cafeteria for lunch. I got a bowl of soup and was looking for a place to sit down when I spotted Roger Sampson sitting by himself. Roger is a private detective that the law firm has on retainer. He is supposed to be one of the best in the business for getting evidence on cheating spouses in divorce cases. I wasn't sure what I was thinking as I went over and asked Roger if I could sit with him. He said that he would be glad to have company.

We talked about sports for a while, specifically about the Cubs chances that year, and then I asked him about his work.

I said, "I've heard that you are pretty successful at getting the goods on cheating spouses."

He said, "I do okay. Why, you want me to follow someone?"

"No. I'm just curious about how you do it. Do you just follow someone around until you catch them in the act?"

"That's part of it but often I have to be more aggressive."

"What do you mean?"

"This is just between you and me, right?"

"Yes. I won't say a word."

"Well, some times I do some covert stuff, like break into houses or apartments to look for evidence."

I said, "You break into houses?"

"Yup, breaking and entering. If the client is willing to pay I'll go into the target's house or apartment and look for evidence."

"What do you look for?"

Why are you so interested? You want to go into this business yourself?" He chuckled a little then said, "In this age of science I look for DNA evidence.

"Really. What do you look for in a cheating spouse case?"

"I'll check the bed sheets for semen stains, also on the furniture like sofas and chairs. If I find any I try to get a sample to check for DNA. I look through laundry baskets for underwear that might have semen deposits."

"You look at dirty underwear? That's pretty gross isn't it?"

"Yes, but it is one of the best sources of DNA evidence, especially in a woman's home. You find semen in a pair of her panties and it doesn't matter if she had sex in her house or somewhere else. That panty stain has the guys DNA mixed with hers. There is no denying that evidence. Remember, most divorce cases are settled in a lawyer's office not in court. So I don't have to testify how I got the evidence. Just telling the guilty party that you have DNA evidence is usually enough. Which is good because in a lot of these cases this evidence would not be admissible in court."

Roger also told me that he looks for love letters hidden somewhere in the house. He said that if the target has a home computer he likes to try and open the e-mail to see what he can find.

I said, "Do you try to get photographs of people in the act?"

"We don't do as much of that as we used to. With all the high tech spy gear available to us we can place tiny cameras in bedrooms, offices or anywhere else we want and capture the action on video."

"How do you hide a camera in someone's bedroom? I mean, don't you have to run wires to your recording device? How do you hide the cameras and wires?"

Roger said, "That's the beauty of these new devices. They have transmitters built in and they are so small they are extremely easy to conceal."

Roger leaned closer to me and lowered his voice, "Listen, I can tell that you have more than a passing interest in this subject. I suspect that you have someone that you would like to keep an eye on but it is not work related. If you're interested I can loan you a could of cameras and a video recorder. It'll be just between us."

He gave me his office extension and said if I wanted the cameras all I had to do was ask. I told him I appreciated the offer and wanted to tell him he was wrong about my interest but instead I told him I would let him know. He thanked me for listening to him talk about his work. He said that most people in the office avoid him. He said they treat him like a pariah.

That afternoon as I sat in my office I thought about my conversation with Roger and how I might use some the information he gave me to my advantage. When I left work that night I took several files I was working on with me and told my secretary that I was going to work from home the next day.

Abby was already in her apartment when I got home and she didn't go out that evening. I spent most of the evening working on the files I had brought home so that I could do what I planned the next day without getting behind in my work.

In the morning I nervously paced around the house until I saw Abby leave for work. I waited a half hour to make sure she wasn't going to return then I went up to the attic. In our duplex there was a stairway to the attic on my side of the house but the only access to the attic on Abby's side was through a lift out panel in the ceiling of a hall closet which was directly across from Abby's bathroom. I was pretty sure that Abby didn't even know about the access panel in the closet and I had forgotten about it until I talked to Roger and got the idea of looking around in her apartment.

I crossed over to her side of the house and lifted out the panel and dropped down into her closet. From the closet I went across the hall into the bathroom where I found the laundry bag where she kept her soiled lingerie. Inside was an assortment of bras, pantyhose and panties. There were four panties in the bag, which I spread out on the floor in front of me. Three of them were simple white cotton panties and the fourth was a sexy black panty. I felt like a real sleaze as I picked up the panties one at a time, starting with the white cotton panties and I examined the crotch of each pair to see if there was any evidence of semen stains in them.

The white panties showed no evidence of semen stains, which is what I expected. I was a little worried about the black panties. They were the panties Abby would have worn on a date, especially is she was expecting to have sex that night, so they would be the ones most likely to have semen stains in them. I took a deep breath then turned the panties inside out and looked at the crotch. There was no evidence of semen. What made this really painful is that I had personally removed that particular pair of panties from Abby on several occasions.

I put the panties and bras back in the bag and hung the bag where I had found it. Then I went into the bedroom and I pulled down the bedspread and blankets to examine the sheets on Abby's bed. I found nothing on the sheets but with the blankets pulled back I could smell Abby's scent in the bed. Each reminder of her made me more unhappy.

I carefully fixed the bed so that it looked the way I found it and headed downstairs. Abby had her computer set up on a desk in her living room. I turned it on and opened her e-mail. I started trying different possible passwords but nothing seemed to work. Her maiden name, her birth date, her mother's birth date, her father's birth date, and so on. I was about to give up when I tried my own birth date and her e-mail opened. The fact that she used my birthday for her password made me smile to myself.

I looked through her notes but there was nothing there that interested me. Now that I knew her password I could check her e-mail from my own computer or even from work. That would save me some time in the future. I shut the computer down and went back up through the attic to my half of the house.

After that first incursion into Abby's apartment I arranged to work from home as often as I could. I was able to keep up with my workload and was always at the office for meetings and in court when I was supposed to be there so there were no complaints about my working from home. This gave me the opportunity to check Abby's apartment two or three times a week. I even made a rope ladder that I could drop through the access hole to make it easier for me to climb back up into the attic.

I hoped that I would be able to check her laundry enough that I wouldn't miss any of her panties before they went into the washing machine. I told myself that I didn't want to chance missing something but I think a part of me got a thrill handling her underwear. That worried me but it didn't make me stop. I think I felt that somehow it made me closer to Abby. I know that sounds a little strange but I was obsessed.

I knew that Abby did her launder on Sundays because I would hear the washing machine and that is when she did the laundry when we were living together. This caused me a problem because it meant that I would not be able to check the panties she wore on Friday or Saturday unless I could somehow sneak into her apartment on the weekend. It was risky going into her apartment on weekends because I couldn't be sure how much time I would have.

Visits to Abby's side of the house became a routine for me. I felt like a creep as I snooped around her apartment looking for evidence that she had sex with someone but I had to know. I also watched to see if and who she was dating. I saw her go out with Ben two more times and the last time she let him into her apartment when they came back late that night. Somehow I missed him when he left so I don't know how long he stayed with her. The next morning I did my usual check of her apartment and found nothing. I was quite relived. I decided that if I really wanted to know what Abby was doing with Ben in her apartment it was time to borrow those cameras from Roger.