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I was grateful this little ordeal occurred on a Friday. Two days were enough to enable me to forget the disappointing event, return to work on Monday, and pretend it never happened. I drove home, opened a bottle of the cheapest wine that still had a cork, filled a big red wine glass to the rim, sat on the couch, and turned on the ID channel. I was pleased that the station was showing another Lt. Joe Kenda marathon. I could spend my entire evening reminiscing with Joe as he delightfully recalled another challenging murder mystery from his glory days as a homicide detective. This episode regarded a furious lover who was on the losing side of a love triangle.
The story opened with a young brunette donning a form fitting, slightly short skirt, sitting in a church pew behind the man she thought was her soul mate, the same man who had his arm around his new wife. You can almost see the fume from the rejected one as her unblinking eyes grow wide. The camera pans for a second on her cleavage as her chest rises and falls with every breath. She is an awesome actor, I think, who deserves greater roles. I was entranced in the fake life of this poor poor woman who was lied to, cheated on, and then dumped. Oh, how I couldn’t wait for the moment she lost it and blew the man’s head off with his gun.
The success of this show, however, is the twist. We know someone will be passionately murdered, but we don’t know who. Lt. Joe tells his story slowly with a wry smile and occasional slight tilt of the head. The action is revealed through reenactments interspersed with Lt. Joe sitting directly in front of the camera revealing the gory details in spurts. The twinkle in his blue eyes as he recounts the tale causes the viewer to barely notice the deep wrinkles on this old man’s face. It may take most of the show for Joe to reveal the victim. Yet, in this case, it could indeed be the obvious. Perhaps the dumped lover passionately slices the cheater with a kitchen knife by tying him on the bed after seducing him for one last intimate moment.
I extend the recliner, wrap both hands around my wine glass, and take in the juicy tale as it unfolds. She lures her former lover with one text sweetly enticing him to her place, telling him she just wants to say goodbye, give back his Blue Ray player, and wish him well. He doesn’t respond for at least three minutes. She texts again, “Closure is important to me.”
He comes. She has it planned. She knows his weaknesses; she preys upon them. He arrives promptly, knocking three times, softly. He looks nervous. She doesn’t.
She waits precisely four seconds, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. They smile. They still have chemistry. Chemistry never ends for two lovers who only see each other on the occasional Tuesday or Thursday. For once, the heat between them is used to her advantage. The Christian morals she knows that are imbedded in this not so innocent man will be combined with the lure of sweet seduction to create a deadly end. She takes his hand and asks him to pray. The hands continue their hold as she walks him slowly to the bedroom.
I think this is what will happen, but then I remember. This is Lt. Joe Kenda’s story, not the spurned lovers. She may end up the homicide victim. He may want her out of the picture. He’s a God-fearing protestant and she represented the evil allure of lust – his weakness. He cannot resist her hips from heaven, craving the feel of those irresistible curves he knows so well.
Yes, we watch the former lovers entwine, skin on skin. I wait for her to retrieve the knife from beneath the pillow. I sip my Walmart wine. I sip again. Oh, but wait, could it be I was mistaken? Will it be he who leaves a bullet in her forehead to begin the life he’s dreamed of, knowing the temptation has been eradicated, forgetting about the text message implicating him by confirming his whereabouts?
Just as the passion unfolds, Lt. Joe returns to the screen, our narrator, our true star, the all-knowing omniscient one. Three words reveal there’s more to the story, “Oh but wait.” The camera reveals the body of a woman splayed out on the floor. Lt. Joe’s eyes glean, and abruptly Mr. Clean is wiping a kitchen counter. I never realized that Mr. Clean had such a perfectly toned body, which makes me just a little bit lonely. I pushed the button on the iPhone, wondering if I’ve missed a text. The screen was blank. I checked the ringer switch to make sure it’s not set to buzzer. It’s not. I swiped the arrow and tapped the message icon, just to make sure I didn’t miss an incoming request for communication. Nothing. No one was thinking of me.
I thought of Travis as I watched Mr. Clean bend over the counter to put a little muscle into his task, but not too much. You don’t want to have to work too hard to get the job done. I envisioned Travis naked in my kitchen on a lazy Sunday morning, slightly bent at the waist, wiping up a little spilled coffee. I checked my phone again, again, and again. I checked four times before Lt. Joe returned to my living room. Lt. Joe has a lot of ego. I could never sit at a kitchen table with a man like Joe, but I could certainly watch his show.
My mind zoned out for a while as the story unfolded. I was bored but couldn’t change the channel without first knowing which woman was dead and how long the offender went to prison for the crime. Nothing else mattered for me at that moment.
Finally, the camera zooms in on the dead woman’s face. Yes, I knew it. It was the lover, not the bride. Six minutes in the show remained to reveal the murderer. Things are not always what they seem, and lo and behold, the final scene revealed the angry bride barging in with a gun, marching back to the bedroom, seeing her husband embraced with the other woman, and – POW – shooting the slutty bitch in the thigh. The husband, shocked, rolled off the bed and crawled to the corner, cowering naked, shaking, scared, caught. The wild bride’s adrenaline was causing a high she’d never known, and she lifted the gun again, this time ensuring an end to this pesky problem, by firing two more rounds into her rival’s head.
The crazed Christian, with a shaky hand, directed the gun at her future husband and said, “Get your ass home and don’t say a word to anyone,” and walked out.
The power of love is amazing to me.
Now that the mystery was solved, I was ready for a diversion. I knew the ending. Lt. Joe Kenda always wins. I checked my phone. Nothing.
I sipped more wine and ended the evening by watching the conclusion of an Al Capone documentary. Al’s final demise surprised me. I am uninspired to learn that Al, despite his many murders, ended up in prison on tax evasion. They got him one way or another. We may not have the perfect justice system, but it’s the best there is.
I checked my phone, finished my wine, turned off the TV, and headed to bed. Yes, things don’t always turn out as people plan.