A Heather Scribble:~Business as Unusual~

Business as Unusual

“Albert Finder, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Dane Hobble.”

Albert glared at the gasping, wheezing man seated on the back of the ambulance fighting for breath, finger pointed directly at Albert. Of all the dumb luck, he thought as the cold metal clicked tight around his wrists.

“But I didn’t,” Albert mumbled, “I had nothing to do with it…”

His wife hadn’t wanted him to come on this trip. She’d begged and pleaded and even tossed out the infamous, “If you love me…” line.

Albert hadn’t listened. Hell, they’d been married thirteen years and her nagging and paranoia had started on their honeymoon. “Albert, we’ve been married four hours and already you’re checking out some beach bimbo.”

Over the years it became so bad he’d stopped doing any of the things he loved to do. He’d lost out on promotions, lost out on opportunities for any sort of advancement in his career because he turned down all the extra hours and trips for fear of his dear vehement Vera. “Overtime? Overtime is just another way of saying bitch on the side.” Man, could that woman ever lay a guilt trip.

Oh, but that had all changed three weeks earlier. Her accusation that he was cheating on the job, that he somehow found a way to "get his rocks off on his lunch hour with some office slut" had set him to stewing, That afternoon, he intercepted the credit card statement and found out his ten thousand dollar credit line was maxed out—when had that happened?—and the company threatened to send him to collections for non-payment. Albert fumed in livid anger at that news.

So the next day at work, when the CEO offered him an all expense paid company trip to Florida in place of Sandy—who’d been scheduled originally but came down with a severe case of pneumonia—Albert jumped at the chance. Three days away from that nagging bitch… Oh, yeah!

A business trip! All expenses paid at that. Damn, but he’d been excited. He’d long ago stopped thinking of dear old Vera as anything other than “that jealous hag”. The trip felt like a gift from heaven.

Everything had gone fine, well, aside from being crashed into by the klutz behind him—who turned out to be the same amicable Mr. Hobble, salesman extraordinaire—now seated on the back of the ambulance. And then there was the spilled coffee; mid-flight too. Albert looked down at the nice dark stain on his brand new khakis. Only someone as lucky as Albert could possibly wind up seated next to that odd little man after the run in while boarding. Dane’s incessant chattering hadn’t done him any favors either. Oh, but what really made the whole experience memorable was the phone call from his wife, the one in which she yelled so loud the whole plane heard, and yet Albert had giggled uncontrollably throughout, not because of her words, but from the faces and mimicked words the talented Dane Hobble performed in sync with the call.

Okay, so maybe things hadn’t gone quite as well as he’d have liked. But he could handle all that, could still have hung on to some shred of dignity…if it wasn’t for the damn peanut episode.

Albert clenched his teeth. Dane had opted for a package of cashews. Albert declined the snack offer. But then Dane went all crazy and whispered to Albert that the airline was trying to kill him. Albert had rolled his eyes and asked how. Dane told him it was the peanuts, he was hungry, had low blood sugar, and they were forcing him to take peanuts when he was deathly allergic to them. Albert took one look at the package, and showed Dane the word cashews written boldly across the front. “Are you allergic to any other kinds of nuts?” He asked. Other than yourself, he added in his mind. The other man shook his head ferociously. “No." Dane responded, “So why did they give me peanuts?”

Albert’s exasperation won at that point. He summoned the stewardess and talked her out of one bag of cashews and one of peanuts. “Look, Dane.” He held up the two packages. “This one,” he said thrusting the peanuts forward, “says peanuts. And this one,” he shoved the package that read cashews at the man, “says cashews.”

“Fine,” Dane had cried out in alarm and snatched the cashew package from him before tossing his own at the stewardess. “I’ll take these.” Albert shook his head and thanked the poor woman who just stood there staring at them like they were insane. It was the same look his wife gave him and when she turned and walked back along the aisle he was happy to be rid of her.

“You’re sure these are cashews?” Dane’s voice had echoed ominously loud in the cabin of the plane.

“Yes, yes. Absolutely sure.”

Dane ripped over the package and devoured the contents. By then, Albert hadn't held out much hope that the craziness of the entire day would dissipate. “Drama queen,” he muttered, then leaned his seat back and slipped into a welcome state of unconsciousness.

He woke to a flailing fist impacting his nose. An empty peanut pack sat on the tray table before of him. Dane Hobble fought for his breath.

“Well, fuck,” Albert murmured and alerted the stewardess.

After that had come the emergency landing in Austin. So much for a non-stop flight to Miami. Instead, he stood at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport in police custody. The officer nudged him from behind. “Let’s go.”

Albert shook his head to clear his thoughts then walked toward the waiting car. This was nothing a good lawyer couldn’t fix. A smile crept across his face. While he was at it, he’d ask that lawyer what it would take to divorce that nagging bitch. Hell, he’d have to thank Dane later, once all this nonsense got straightened out.

He took a final look at the man.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes grew wide. The pounding in his chest and ears threatened to bring him to his knees. Then he saw red.

What was that bitch doing with her arms around Dane Hobble and her lips pressed to his?

“No!” His voice erupted from him in violent rage. He jerked from the officer’s grip and ran toward the backstabbing, two-timing whore as fast as a man could with his arms trapped behind him.

“Stop.” The officer shouted, but Albert ignored him. That vindictive twit would pay, and so would her self-serving accomplice.

“I said stop.”

A sudden burst of sharp pain dropped him to the ground. He writhed in agony, willing it to stop. The pursuing officer stood over him and shook his head. “I told you to stop.”

Fucking taser!

Albert gasped for air, fought for sanity. So much for his vacation.

The officer hauled him to his feet. “That kind of stunt will get you additional time in the clank.”

More time in the clank…Albert burst into laughter as the officer opened the car door. Vehement Vera couldn't touch him in the big house. Rough hands pushed him down into the seat, and Albert swung his legs in without resistance. He looked up at his captor with a toothsome smile. The officer raised an eyebrow.

“Thank God for business trips,” Albert cackled as the door slammed closed. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. Thirteen years. Thirteen years of hell with that bitch. Three days would have been fantastic, but several years?

This was going to be the best vacation ever!