Finding Elvis Ch. 09

He blanched and struggled to get loose, but he just didn't have the leverage. "Luther! Luther de Silva! Let me go!"

"Luther," I crooned. "That's a really nice name for a piece of shit like you. You're getting on my nerve, Luther, and since it's the last one I have that still works, I'd rather not burn it out on an ass pimple like you. I can't stop you from following me in public, but if you keep getting within arms reach, I might just feel compelled to pull a Sean Penn on your scrawny ass. Am I getting through here?"

"Let me go, you crazy broad!" he shouted before I stuffed him back into the car.

Leaning in, I smiled a shark-like smile. "Do be a stranger, okay?" I stepped back as he threw his wreck into reverse and sped backward. It was a great escape attempt, right until the rear of his car slammed into the police cruiser that was just pulling up behind him. When the airbag in the cop car deployed, I had to laugh. He was screwed whether he ran for it or not.

I sauntered back to the Hummer and slid in. "That went well, don't you think?" I asked Gretchen.

"Ohmigod! He hit a police car! Should we run?" she asked, her eyes huge.

"Nope. Devon, take us on out at a normal clip," I said, never taking my eyes off the scene playing itself out behind us. The uniform was out of his cruiser and pulling the hapless Luther out of his Pontiac. I strapped back in and laughed. "I love being me."

-----

Some judicious calling around garnered the location of Senatorial candidate Kirk Craig. He was just wrapping up a speech at a rally on the far side of Boston, but would be back at his office in about an hour. I looked at my watch and smiled at Gretchen.

"We have a little time to burn, so I think some shopping is in order," I purred.

Gretchen frowned. "Shopping? At a time like this?"

"I am shocked," I told her. "I would expect a woman like you would always be open to the notion of shopping. Oh, and speaking of shopping, I need to stop at an ATM and check my balance."

She shook her head with that gleam in her eyes that I had learned meant 'watch your ass, Hawk.' "You might just be surprised," she told me. "Daddy said he transferred your pay yesterday, so the balance is probably a bit higher. Since we got married, I decided not to hit him up for the sex fee."

I shifted uneasily in my seat. "Gretchen, I really don't know about this. I don't think I should take the money. It feels crooked."

She rolled her eyes and took my hand in hers. "Hawk, did you hear Daddy mention joint control of a trust fund last night?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but I don't really know what that means."

"It means that he set aside a lump some years ago and has been the trustee until he decided to pass control of it along to us," she said. "I can assure you that you have much better odds that the trust fund has more money in it than your back account. Honey, you married into money and it's always going to be floating around. I'm not going to make a big deal of it and I don't think you should, either."

I felt my stomach do a slow roll. "Lord, I didn't need to hear that. How much money are we talking about? I know you told me how much was going to be paid, but other than remembering it was a lot of money, I've forgotten."

"I'll put in a call while you get Devon headed where you want," she assured me, "but it's not an issue between us. I'm well-to-do, too."

"Yeah, but that's your money, not mine."

"Yours, mine, ours, it's all the same," she assured me, that gleam back in her eyes. That didn't help make me feel better, at all.

While she was talking on her cell, I told Devon to head to the nearest ATM, Bank of America preferably. He nodded and took a left at the next light and went several blocks before pulling up to the busy curb.

I hopped out and stood in line at the ATM, whistling nervously. When my turn came up, I slid my card in and entered my pin number. Selecting the balance, I tapped my foot anxiously. I wasn't sure why this was rubbing me the wrong way. Shouldn't I be happy to not have to worry about money as much?

When the ATM spat out the piece of paper, I snatched it and looked at it. I blinked. That couldn't be right; someone had made a mistake, and Hans needed to call his accountant.

The guy behind me shouldered past me to the ATM, reminding me that I needed to get the hell out of his way. I stumbled back to the Hummer and slid in the back, feeling a bit like I was floating. I knew the feeling, it was shock. Too damned many of the things that happened to me around Gretchen made me feel like that.

"You look pale," she said, looking at me worriedly. "Did he not make the deposit? I can call someone and get it fixed," she assured me.

"Something's wrong," I agreed, "but it's an error on the plus side. Some bean counter added a zero or two. My account has just over a million dollars in it. Gretchen, this really makes me feel funny."

"Well," she said calmly, "let's see, what you should have had was seven days times forty thousand with a surcharge of fifty percent. In my head, that comes out to four hundred and twenty thousand. Let me call Daddy's accountant and see what the mix-up is. Devon, Hawk wants to go shopping, find out what she wants and get us there."

As she talked on the phone, I leaned forward and looked at Devon. "Devon, tell me I'm not losing my mind."

He grinned. "Hawk, you already lost your mind. Anybody dat know you know dat. You listen to Devon and he tell you how it is."

I took a deep breath and nodded, resting my arms on the seat in front of me.

"People, dey search all dere lives for love," he continued in a serious tone. "You done found dat, or so it looks to dis mon. Everyting else, dat be beside de point. Don let money make you lose sight of the woman back dere."

I blinked and chewed on that thought for a moment. Then, slowly, I nodded. "Thanks, Devon. That's exactly the perspective I needed. I need to sweat the big stuff, and the money is the least important thing here, not even close to qualifying as 'big stuff.' You've got a good eye for the ball. Tell me, why are you single again?"

Devon laughed. "Cuz no woman be crazy enough to keep Devon!"

I shook my head and laughed. "Fine, point made. Now, I need to find a place that caters to ladies' more intimate needs."

"Dere be all kinds of places like dat. Clothing, toys, people, video or gynecologist?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Toys," I said.

"Devon know just de place," he assured me and pulled out into traffic.

I slipped my seatbelt back on and watched Gretchen as she listened to the voice on the other end of her call. She nodded occasionally and finally said, "That makes sense. I'll tell her. Now, can you give me the details on the trust fund?"

The voice buzzed for a minute with Gretchen's eyes growing huge and her hand clutching mine. "Are you sure about that," she asked, her voice choked. "I think there's a number out of place."

After a moment more, she nodded and thanked the person, hanging up. "Okay, now I know what you feel like."

"That sounds ominous," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Just what the hell does that mean?"

Gretchen took a deep breath. "Well, first things first. The deposit to your account is for services rendered and a success bonus, so the amount was correct. One million dollars. I suggest we let the family accountant help us with our tax return or Uncle Sam and the Commonwealth of Taxachusetts will eat us alive."

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath of my own. "I won't let this be an issue, Sweetie. You are what's important, and if that means dealing with the stupid money, then I will." I opened my eyes. "Now, what has you in a tailspin?"

She nervously licked her lips. "I'm glad you aren't going to let money be an issue between us. I'm really glad, Hawk, because Daddy one-upped that deposit."

"What," I asked slowly, dreading the potential answer, "does that mean?"

"I can't really get my head around it, but he made a trust for me and my family when I was a baby. He seeded it with a lot of money and it's been off making little baby dollars ever since," she said, obviously stalling.

"Stop dithering, Gretchen. Just come out and tell me what has you off your feed about it," I said practically.

"Well, in the last thirty years, it's done really well for itself and us," she said, looking out the window.

"Gretchen!" I said, exasperated. "Just put it on the table." I was beginning to worry about what amount of money could possible make my rich wife dither.

Gretchen turned back to me and put her hand on my knee. "Hawk, the trust fund is worth a lot more than I have socked away. The two of us are joint trustees of a fund with more than two billion dollars in it."