Cheaters Never Win Ch. 01

Sherrie and I had a teenage son who was the joy of my life. His well being was my first value priority. He was the most important person in my life at this moment. Priority number one was: Protect my son from as much emotional pain as possible. Priority number two was to secure his future. To do this I had to be a solid role model for him on how to manage a disaster in life. My actions would have a life long impact on him and he was everything to me. I figured he needed his mother in his life also so I couldn't trash Sherrie to him.

Their mother-son relationship appeared pretty healthy but it was not anything close to what mine was with my son. My son never seemed to really bond with Sherrie like he has with me. Likewise, he had practically no relationship with his step sister, who was no longer a part of our family life. Sherrie seemed to have been a good mother to both. Of course he didn't know of my wife's illicit behavior. Alleged whoring at this point I whispered to myself. Gosh, I was having a hard time putting in the "alleged" before cheating or whoring. I felt somewhat ashamed for condemning her before the facts were in.

My son had never given any indication he knew anything bad about my wife. He had no need to know either. Later, if necessary, I might tell him. Sammie obviously did know of her mom's cheating. After all, all I knew was Sherrie had lied about her name on registration but I had no proof she had actually physically cheated. Falsifying her name at registration was still "cheating" to me. Then again, it had been her ex who had done the registering. Maybe she didn't know he had falsified things. The surveillance tapes and subsequent investigation would answer that question.

I knew Sherrie's daughter, my son's older half-sister lived in another world from my son and me. She was seven years older. I had adopted her when she was very young. Nevertheless she seemed to have isolated herself from all of us. Sherrie told me that Sammie had a trust problem with all males. I thought she might be lesbian but she got pregnant. So much for that thought. I wondered now if Sammie had a hidden trust issue with her father and her mother. Now I wondered who had been the semen donor for Sammie's pregnancy? Had Sherrie fucked her ex and then gotten pregnant with my son? These were dark, forbidding and deeply disturbing thoughts.

Sammie had always come back angry and depressed previously after her court order required visits with her biological father. She had never really got along with him. Fortunately she was now gone from our house by a little over three years. I had no knowledge of her visiting her father, one way or the other, after she turned 18. She didn't come to our traditional Christmas morning breakfast with us when we opened gifts. She only sent a Christmas card, not even a phone call, in recognition of her ties to me. Her rebellious and anti-social behavior had continued and had finally gotten her into a world of hurt.

I wondered if she had a personality disorder. I wondered how this was all going to play out for her also. Even with Sammie's problems, she never contacted me or asked me for help, not even financial help. It looked like Sherrie's continuing infidelity had made a serious negative impact on our daughter's life. Now I wondered even more what the relationship was between Sammie and her biological father. Sammie had never confided in me concerning her relationship with her father but she was always hostile even more when she returned from visit with him. Now I wondered about everything I thought about.

I had finally tired of asking SammieXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX "I don't want to talk about it!" answer to my multiple inquires of that relationship over the years. Still I cared a lot for and about her. Knowing of her recent problems hurt me down deep as I had been cut out of her life and suffering. She had never allowed me to be a father, much less her "dad". Our family was obviously dysfunctional and now entering a turmoil phase.

As I drove toward home, my stomach began to hurt. It was like the onset of an ulcer. I turned around to pacify the acids eating at my stomach lining. A chocolate jamoca shake was the perfect antidote. I really loved them and my stomach needed something to calm it down. At least that was my excuse to myself.

Sherrie was not due back home again from work until this evening. I guess I forgot to tell you that she was a realtor. As such she had an irregular schedule showing various properties. Sometimes it was evenings and frequently weekends. She had a good income and seemed to enjoy the freedom her job allowed her. With my odd hours, we frequently didn't have family time together. I was considering a more routine type of practice but the time off and the income were still very attractive to me.

I drove the two miles to our four bedroom three bath ranch style suburban home with the indoor Jacuzzi and glass roofed over outdoor pool.

On the way I thought back on our marriage of 18 years. We had married just two years after her divorce when her daughter was just three years old. Sherrie came from a fairly well off but somewhat dysfunctional family. She had grown up in a reconstituted family also. She had several half sibs and a real sister a couple of years older than her. Sherrie was the youngest and had told me that she was a bit rebellious herself in her younger years.

Her relationship with her father obviously was not at all good and her relationship with her mother was fraught with periodic battles for supremacy. I know Sammie won many of those even as a child. She was used to getting her way.

Sherrie's mom had a tendency to try to over rule some of my decisions about our kids. On occasion, I had to remind her mom that I was head of our family, not her. This invariably upset Sherrie even though she was frequently at odds with her mom.. Sherrie seemed protective of her mom's authority even though she conflicted with her for supremacy in their relationship. From Sherrie's description of her early years, that conflict was even more serious back then.

From time to time, I had to remind Sherrie of my role as head of the house also. This really got her goat, so to speak but I was not going to allow her to usurp what was my responsibility and prerogative. I saw her Ex as an evil person. Anyone who would hit a woman deserved to be tarred and feathered and run out of town. I had no respect for him and thankfully never had to deal with him until now, possibly.

Now I was going to have to deal with my wife's infidelity and her making me a cuckold. This was beginning to make me angry, in addition to the shock, disbelief and sadness. She had stolen from me what was rightfully mine...her body and given it to another man. She had freely given it to me by the vows we made before God and our church and family 18 years ago.

We had talked of, and mutually agreed to the need for absolute fidelity in mind, spirit and body to each other. We had talked, and I know agreed, that our sex acts together as being the giving and receiving of love and the renewal of everything sacred between us as a married couple. We were to be totally truthful with open dialogue. We were to tell each other what we needed and wanted of the other. My part of the marriage was built on all that was holy and sacred. Personal integrity was everything to me. I tried to exhibit that and demanded it of those I was in relationship with.

Now my marriage and our relationship seemed to have the proverbial shifting sand as a part of the foundation and termites in the walls of what I had struggled to build into a defense against all the evils of the world. I had hoped, and expressed this many times, and she had readily agreed to the statement; "It's just you and me honey against the world" She had even said that of her own volition at various times when she seemed a little insecure and needed my calming strength dealing with problems that Sammie created. Now it appears that her "you and me" included another "you". She had included a secret "you" who was not me.

Still, maybe I was wrong. Sammie had been known to lie and maybe this was just another one of her lies. Somehow I believed my friend even before confronting my wife. This bothered me as I knew I should believe her first but she had never told me about her meeting with her Ex. I concluded she was unfaithful; without further information and without "alleging".

Still, I was appalled at how I had already convicted my loving wife of infidelity without even letting her tell me her side of the story. Why was I so eager to convict her? Was I that prejudiced and insecure? How could I be such a monster? It became clear that priority number three was to give Sherrie every opportunity to explain and clear herself. I could not allow the emotional statements, possibly fantasies or lies of a potentially psychotic youngster, to destroy my faith in my wife of eighteen years. The PI report was still pending comparisons of the pictures and photos.

Timing is all important in carrying out decisions. First I needed the evidence from the PI. That Sammie was the initial source of the information could not be revealed. For the present, I would file all this in my memory as only potentially true.

I arrived home. Everything seemed perfectly normal. Sherrie kept a clean neat house for which I frequently complimented her.

The Jacuzzi looked inviting. I disrobed in our bedroom and slipped on my bathing suit. A flick of the switch and the heated jets and bubbles came on as I climbed in I sucked up the last of the cooling Jamoca shake. My stomach had calmed down. Getting comfortable, I let my mind go to work. Some ideas came to me.

"Bobby?" I called my fellow E. R. Doctor friend on my cell phone. "Do me a favor, please. When you go to the hospital tomorrow, see if you can get some documentation that my wife's daughter Sammie was actually in the hospital. I know you can't get anything about her psyche stay but just verify for me that she had been admitted to Gyn Surgery service. I knew that even that was now privileged information."

"Okay, good buddy, I'll do better than that. I can order her chart to the ER and copy the admit note, surgical note and D/C summary. How's that for service on a sliver platter"?

"Just don't get in trouble is all," was my reply. "I just want some collaboration about what you told me. Find out what kind of hospitalization insurance she used, OK?".

"You got it coming. I swapped with Frank Seltzer (he's another ER doctor in our group) so I'm on the night shift tonight. Should be no problem with getting the chart and making a copy of what you need. That little cutie on 3 to 11 shift in the medical records likes to come and hang out in the ER. She has a thing going with our PA (Physician's Assistant). It's good to have true friends on your side I thought.

"Bobby, just hope I never have to do this for you so take care of that beautiful wife. Who knows I may be on the available market sometime sooner than later." I laughed. That idea was definite possibility but also very uncomfortable. It was an unthinkable alien idea before lunch today.

I rang off and worked my legs and toes in the warm bubbles.

I picked up the phone again. This time I had to call directory assistance to get the number.

"Good afternoon," came the pleasant female voice over the phone. "This is the office of Frank Jones and associates. How may I direct your call"?

"I want to speak with a Mr. James F. Jones please."

Whom may I say is calling and for what reason"? Her voice carried the pleasant but protective tone.

My name is Dr. Jon Williamson and Mr. Jones is working on an urgent case for me and my friend Dr. Robert Jones. He may recall him as Dr. Bobby Jones. The case is current".

"Hello Dr. Williamson," came the deep baritone voice. "What can I do for you"?

"My close friend and colleague in the E.R., Dr. Bobby Jones engaged you yesterday to do an investigation that involves my wife. I want to thank you for your prompt service. I am going to be paying your fees so you can either bill Bobby or me. Here is what I need. In your report, will you please include the police report of that date which involved my adopted daughter, Sammie and her biologic father Ronald Sherbert and my wife Sherrie Williamson. I don't know if you knew there was a report filed of some sort of fracas at the Sunset Motel. Anyway, please include a copy of that police report in your report to Bobby and me".

"Dr. Williamson, if that is who you are, I cannot discuss anything with you about any case. If you need something that I can help you with, you will need to come down in person, preferably with Dr. Jones." It was clear I would get nothing from him as his statement and voice had a ring of finality to it. I just hung up. Crap, I should have anticipated that. What the heck, he is a "private" investigator after all.

So now I'm back on the phone with Bobby, "Bobby I need another more urgent favor. Can you meet at the PI's office this afternoon? He won't talk to me and I need to talk to him about the fracas at the motel. Can you meet me there in half an hour?"

"You got it. I'll be there". He was a true friend. His wife was still at work so I wasn't interrupting an afternoon play time with his wife.

Well, I got dressed in a really big hurry and met Bobby at the address. I was taken back a little, I guess, as the office was actually in a building housing the city's largest law firm. I noted on the list of attorneys, the name of a man whose face I had put back together in the ER just a week ago. He had slipped at home and cut his face and hand on a glass door in his bathroom. He was also sloshed at the time. I thought of speaking to him after meeting with the PI.

The foyer was hard wood. The large heavy balanced glass doors pushed open easily and I saw the receptionist seated at a smallish mahogany desk with various electronics including a key board, monitor and telephone. She was entering data when I entered. Looking around it was apparent that these lawyers and PI didn't come cheaply.

She asked me to have a seat in one of the plush leather chairs as she notified the Jones's. It appeared as if they were a father-son association. There was a Frank J. Jones and a F. James Jones Jr. listed on the door leading into their offices. Bobby entered just as I my eyes wandered around at the diplomas, certificates, licenses and awards crowding and filling the walls. The receptionist called us and told us to go right in. We met first with another receptionist. She confirmed who we were and asked us for photo identification which we both produced readily. She copied my photo ID driver's license into her computer.

I was given a stack of papers to complete and sign. Several of these she notarized. Following this she entered my data into her computer, printed out a single paper which I signed and she notarized. After making a copy which she gave to me, she led us into a rather plain conference room with nothing but a rather well used six place oval conference table. The curtain on the far wall obviously hid a video screen. I suspected there were hidden audiovisual monitors watching us. She offered us coffee. I take mine black with sweetener. Bobby graciously declined. We were seated and Bobby and I spoke of nothing important until the PI appeared.

His handshake matched his deep rather sonorous baritone voice. He was obviously the oldest of the pair, perhaps fifty plus with a heavy black five o'clock shadow now quite apparent. "It's nice to meet you Dr. Williamson. Sorry about my rather curt declination of information earlier but you realize we are 'Private' as the signs show."

"Actually, Mr. Jones," I intoned, "I should have expected that. My profession has become almost as secretive of recent thanks to the Feds. I am glad to meet you and, incidentally, glad you declined previously. That made me feel more secure actually".

I started the dialogue rather briskly. "Mr. Jones, as you must know, I am dealing with a potentially massive personal problem or at least I think I am. I need to have as much verification as possible before I confront my wife. The information so far seems damning if it is true. I am trying not to make a judgment until I hear her side but....well. I need lots of information prior to confronting her on this serious issue. I also need to do this as soon as possible. Still I don't want to show her what I know until I hear her story. If she lies to me I will know there was more than just an innocent platonic motel visit.

Was there more than just the one motel visit? I may be coming back to you to discover more information after she and I have our maybe not so little heart to heart talk. Are you aware of a police report generated that same day which involved some sort of fracas in which my wife Sherrie Williamson, our daughter, Sammie, and Sherrie's first husband who is our daughter's biologic father, Mr. Ronald Sherbert?" That's what I really want to know about.

Mr. Jones smiled at me. "Dr. Williamson, perhaps you sell me short by just a little. Knowing about things like that is my profession. I have a copy of the report which, by the way, needs my professional translation. Police have a tendency, like some doctors, to scribble. They write in the boxes and on the lines like good third graders do. I have interviewed the motel manager, the one who called the police. I have interviewed the officers who came to the motel.

My assistant has even talked to Sammie's roommate. She gave us a ton of information. If her information is worth anything or not, I don't know. Everything is in this file folder except the photos which are still in our techs hands. He pointed to an already bulging expansion file. It's all here. Fortunately I have several people helping me and they have all filed their reports which are in this folder." Only the photos from the video monitors and my professional comparison report are yet to be inserted. I have talked to the tech that is doing the comparisons. I have his verbal opinions about the video monitor and photos from these. Everything will be dictated later today. He is a former FBI crime lab guy and skilled at this type work.

I can have everything copied with in the next couple of hours and bound into a formal report. My summary and cover letter need to be dictated. I'll be dictating that in your presence now, if you wish. You cannot have the file until my written report is ready and that won't be until tomorrow. How much do you want today, meaning now. You realize that I must give it to your friend Dr. Jones as he is the person who hired me and who has already paid me thanks to his American Express Debit Card." He smiled nodded toward Bobby and thanked him.

"Mr. Jones" I looked at him then Bobby. "If Bobby needs to leave now, it will that be ok with me? He came here at my urgent request and I don't know if he is in a hurry"? He has to work all night tonight. I had not asked Bobby his plans for the afternoon, just a request to meet me here.

Bobby spoke. "Mr. Jones, let me sign off. Let me go home and the two of you continue. What is in your report really doesn't involve me. I'll sign a consent form for you to give the file to Jon. What I don't know will be an asset as I then can't divulge anything I don't know even to my wife. She and I keep no secrets so if I truly don't know what the entire file contains; I can truthfully tell her I don't know. She is not a gossip". Bobby winked at me.

Mr. Jones called his secretary in with the consent form which we all signed and she notarized. Bobby stood up, as did I also, shook hands then hugged, briefly with mutual back patting. Now I was alone with the PI and waiting for his report.

"Dr. Williamson," he began, "Please do not interrupt me as I dictate. Please do not try to look at the papers I am looking at while I dictate. That will distract me. This report will be a complete summary. I will be making foot notes and instructions to my typist which will not appear in the final written report you will get. Is that clear"? I nodded agreement.