Fallout 08: For Love of Money

"Yeah, he told me you two played phone tag," I said. "So, any idea where Hammond is now?"

"No," Angus said. "I've got some feelers out, and if I hear anything, I'll pass it on to Greene."

"Sounds good," I said. "What now?"

"Well, there's not much left to do, except catching Hammond," Angus said. "And you need to get your rest and recuperate. I'll stop by and check in on you from time to time."

"I appreciate that," I told him. He shook my hand and left me to my thoughts. When I had a sufficient charge on my phone, I called the lawyer he recommended.

"Law Office of Alicia Hawkins," the receptionist said when she answered.

"I'd like to speak with Ms. Hawkins, please," I told her. "This is Jack Neely, she was recommended to me by Angus McGregor."

"One moment, please," the receptionist said in her cheery voice. A few moments later, I heard another woman's voice come on the line.

"Alicia Hawkins," she said. "Is this Mr. Neely?"

"Yes," I said. "I got your name and number from Angus McGregor. He suggested I call you."

"Yes, Mr. McGregor told me about your situation," she said. "I have been expecting your call. I understand you're in the hospital right now?"

"Yes, I am, so it's a bit difficult to get around at the moment, and there's a hitman out after me as well," I said.

"That's what I heard," she said. "Tell you what, Mr. Neely, I'm about ready to call it a day here at the office. Why don't I come visit you there? Would that be alright?" Wow, I thought. A lawyer who does house calls.

"That would be terrific," I said.

"Excellent," she said. "I'll be there shortly." Alicia showed up with her briefcase about an hour later and we spent the next hour going over the particulars of my divorce. Although the state we live in is a no-fault state, divorces could be granted on grounds like adultery or cruelty. Alicia said she would draw up the papers citing adultery and extreme cruelty -- especially since Julie hired a hitman to kill me, cheated on me with him, then left me on the floor of my house for dead. Having her in jail would go a long way to helping me get what I wanted in the divorce, which was almost everything.

She was putting her things back in her briefcase when Mel knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. He smiled and came into the room after I waved him in.

"Good afternoon, Detective Greene," Alicia said with a smile.

"Ms. Hawkins," he said. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all," she said. "We were just finishing up. Do you have an update for us?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said as he sat down.

"Well?" I asked.

"Your wife confessed to everything," he said. "Said she hired Hammond to have you killed and to make it look like an accident."

"Why?" I asked.

"Money," he said. "And lust. She said she started having an affair with a co-worker. Fella named Sylvester Johnson. You know him?"

"No, I don't," I said.

"Turns out Johnson is Hammond's nephew," he said. "Your wife and Johnson wanted to run off and go to Hawaii but couldn't afford to do it. She looked at your account, saw your lottery winnings and figured that would be her ticket to paradise. Figured between that and your insurance payout, she'd walk away with four or five million dollars. Not the first time I've seen that happen. Probably won't be the last. DA is going for the maximum penalty -- life in prison without parole. He's also going to recommend she be held in custody without bail. Says since she was caught trying to flee the city she could be seen as a flight risk."

"So, Johnson is the one who hooked her up with Hammond?" I asked.

"That what she says," Mel told me. "We've apprehended Johnson, and I'll be speaking with him later. If what she says holds up, we'll be charging him as well."

"What about Hammond?" I asked.

"We're still looking for him," he said. "We've got just about every officer in the county after him right now. Until we have him behind bars, we'll keep a guard on your door and we've got patrols going by your house." I shook my head in disbelief.

"I just don't get it," I said. "She never gave any hint that she wasn't happy. Why now?"

"Who knows," Mel said. "People will sometimes do crazy things when there's money involved. So, how much longer you going to be in here?"

"Doc says a few more days," I said. "He wants to make sure everything is healing up alright."

"That sounds wise," Mel said. "Well, I'll get out of your hair for now. If anything happens, I'll keep you in the loop."

"Thanks, Detective," I said.

"My pleasure," he said, standing up. "Ms. Hawkins, good to see you again."

"Good to see you too, Detective Greene," she said with a smile. After he left the room, I looked at Alicia.

"I take it you know him?" I asked.

"Yes, I represented him in his divorce," she said. "So, I'll get this worked up and have your wife served in jail."

"Let me get you a check for your retainer," I said. "Would you mind grabbing my wallet out of my trousers, please?"

"Not at all," she said, retrieving my wallet. I have a habit of keeping a blank check in my wallet for emergencies, so I pulled it out and wrote it for the amount she requested. She smiled as she accepted the check, then placed it in her briefcase.

"We'll be in touch, Jack," she said as she stood up. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you for your help," I said. I watched her walk out the door, then turned my attention back to the television.

...

All good things must come to an end, the saying goes. After a couple weeks, the doctor said I had healed enough to go home. In that time, I received several visitors -- friends, and colleagues from work, Angus and Detective Greene, who kept me in the loop about the case against Julie and the ongoing manhunt for Hammond. Mel told me Sylvester had been charged with conspiracy to commit murder.

Julie was served divorce papers while in jail and decided to accept the end of our marriage without a fight. Alicia told me she signed the papers without any argument whatsoever, which surprised me. In 60 days, I would be a free man, she said.

I got the house and all of our assets. Julie would be allowed to keep her car, clothes and personal items. I called her parents and they arranged to pick everything up. What they did with it after that their business. Angus picked me up from the hospital and took me home.

"Just curious," he said. "Do you have a gun?"

"Just an old shotgun my Dad gave me when I was 17," I said. It was a present for my birthday, and my Dad would take me out shooting trap and skeet. Those were some of my happiest memories. I still had the shotgun, but I hadn't fired it in quite a while. It sat, oiled up, in my locked gun case. I also had a box of shells for the thing. "Why?" I asked.

"Hammond's still out there," he said. "You may want to keep it handy." Crap, I thought. That night, I pulled the old shotgun out and gave it the once over. It was in good shape, even though I hadn't used it in a long time. I pulled out the box of shells and loaded it up.

I thought about sleeping in the master bedroom, but I couldn't -- not after what I had witnessed there before. So I slept on my recliner in the living room, the loaded shotgun within reach. It turned out that was a wise move.

I woke up late that night after I thought I heard some scratching outside the house. I grabbed the shotgun and looked around from where I sat. I only had one good arm, so I decided to use my left arm, which was still in a cast, as a rest for the shotgun. I looked and thought I saw a silhouette of a large man just inside the sliding glass door that leads into the back yard.

As I looked, the silhouette moved and I saw a large pistol in one of his hands. Apparently, he hadn't seen me yet, otherwise, I would probably be dead. I thought I'd get the drop on him, so I reached over and flipped the switch on my lamp. When I did, I saw him -- James Hammond -- and he WAS armed.

He looked at me, surprised. I saw him start to raise his pistol, so I brought up my shotgun and let him have it. He fell back against the screen door, nearly taking it out of its tracks. In the process, he fired a round from his pistol, but his bullet ended up in the ceiling. I got up, pumped another round into the chamber, and fired again. That round hit him square in the chest and put his body through the screen door.

I saw him lying on my deck, blood pouring out from his body. I picked up the phone and called 911. I pumped another round into the chamber and walked slowly to the door. I stood over his body and was about to put a third round into him when I saw flashing lights. Soon, the place was filled with officers, their guns drawn. I put the shotgun down and raised my hands so they could see I was unarmed.

One of the officers checked Hammond for a pulse and shook his head. Another officer called for an ambulance. I spent the next hour or so giving my statement to the officers. Just when I thought it was all over, the ambulance arrived. Detective Greene drove in behind the paramedics. The paramedics checked Hammond and put his lifeless body in a bag. After zipping it shut, they put it on a gurney and took him away, stopping only to let Mel look at Hammond's face.

"You alright?" he asked me. I nodded my head. I was still a bit shaken by the whole experience. I had never shot a man before, and I certainly had never killed anyone. Until that night, the only thing I had ever killed was a clay pigeon.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll be fine." Mel turned to the other officers in the house before speaking.

"You fellas just about done here?" he asked.

"We're wrapping it up now, Detective," a sergeant told Mel.

"Good," Mel said. "Make sure I get a report on this ASAP."

"Will do," the sergeant said. Mel turned back to me.

"How about I buy you a cup of coffee after they're done?" he asked.

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said. "Let me go throw something on. I don't think they'd care for me to come in my pajamas."

"Probably not," Mel said. I left the front room and headed upstairs. After changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I went back down. The other officers had just left and Mel was waiting for me.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I said. We left the house and got into his car. He drove us to an all-night coffee shop not far from the house. We went inside and ordered our coffee. It had been a while since I had a caramel mocha, so I ordered one -- a large. Mel chuckled as he paid the tab.

"Thought you said you wanted coffee," he joked. "Not liquid candy."

"Been a while since I've had one of these, so thought I'd treat myself," I told him. We sat down and took a sip of our drinks.

"How you holding up?" he asked.

"I'm... okay. I guess," I said. "Never shot anyone before."

"I know how you feel, Jack," he said.

"You ever kill anyone?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "The first time it happened, I nearly threw up. I was just a rookie cop right out of the academy. Hadn't been on the beat for a whole month. Like you, I knew it was either him or me. And I was determined that it wouldn't be me put into a body bag."

"And you had the benefit of training," I said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think you can ever truly train anyone to handle something like that," he said. "You got lucky. You know that, don't you? Hammond was a trained killer."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I know."

"Well, the important thing is that you're alive and he's not," Mel said. "Fortunately for you, we have castle laws in this state, so you won't be prosecuted."

"Thank goodness for that," I said. Mel smiled as he chuckled. He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to me. I read the name on the card: Dr. Rose Carlson.

"I think you should give her a call," Mel said. "She's the best counselor in the business. If anyone can help you get through all this, she can."

"Thanks, I'll do that," I told him, putting the card in my shirt pocket. We sat for a while, drinking coffee while talking about various things -- fishing, football, general "guy" stuff. After we finished our drinks, Mel looked at his watch.

"I gotta get back to work," he said. "You ready to head out?"

"I'm ready," I told him. We threw our empty cups in the trash and left the coffee shop. He dropped me off at my house and wished me well.

"Don't forget to call Dr. Carlson," he said. "I'll be in touch."

"Thanks again, Detective Greene," I told him. I watched him drive away, then went back into my house. I tried to get some sleep, but was unable to. Finally, about 7:30 am, I got up, showered and ate some breakfast. I decided there was one thing left for me to do. After making a call, I went to the county jail where Julie was being held.

I sat in the visiting area and watched as Julie was brought out. She looked tired, and the orange jumpsuit she wore didn't do much for her at all. She sat in the chair across from me and picked up the phone on her side of the Plexiglas partition between us. I picked up the phone on my side.

"Hello, Julie," I said.

"Hello, Jack," she responded. "What do you want? I signed the papers. You've got everything now."

"I want like some answers," I told her. "How long has this been going on with Sylvester?"

"I guess you're entitled to know," she said. "Not very long. Maybe two or three months."

"Why?" I asked. "Was I not a good enough husband or lover? Was it something I did or said? Why would you rip out my heart like that?"

"I don't know," she said. "I guess I was taken in by his charm. I know we talked about having kids, and I was scared. I was afraid I'd get fat and ugly and you wouldn't find me attractive anymore."

"That's bullshit, Julie, and you know it," I said. "That doesn't excuse what you did. There has to be something else. What is it? Was it the money?" Julie looked down, sheepish, before answering.

"Well, I guess so," she said. "Sylvester told me we could use that to run away and start fresh. Maybe take a cruise around the world."

"Is that why you decided to have me killed, Julie?" I asked.

"Sylvester said he could arrange it so I would get all of the money, plus your insurance," she said. "Without having to pay big bucks for a divorce."

"And he put you in touch with Hammond?" I asked. She nodded her head.

"Did you know Hammond was Sylvester's uncle?" I asked. Again, Julie nodded her head.

"Yes," she said.

"So why fuck Hammond, and in our bed?" I asked.

"He said he'd give me a discount if I fucked him in our bed," she said. "That's when you walked in and caught us."

"And you just left me for dead," I said. Tears fell down Julie's cheeks as she nodded her head.

"Yes," she stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Hammond is dead," I told her after an awkward silence. She looked at me, shocked.

"What do you mean, dead?" she asked.

"He came by to finish the job you paid him to do," I said. "I killed him when he broke into the house."

"How?" she asked.

"The shotgun my Dad gave me when I was a kid," I said. "Blew his ass right back out the door."

"I forgot all about that shotgun," she said. She looked at me with sad eyes. "I'm so sorry about everything. Do you think you can ever forgive me?" I laughed out loud -- loud enough to catch the guard's attention for a moment.

"You gotta be shittin' me, Julie," I said. "No, I will never forgive you for what you did. And from what I understand, you'll have the rest of your life to think about it. I hope it was worth it to you. Goodbye, Julie." I hung the phone back up, not wanting to hear any more from her. She slowly hung her phone up and looked at me with tears in her eyes. I got up, turned around and walked away.

...

The next two months went fast. It took a while, but I finally got everything I wanted packed and out of the house. After doing some minor repairs to the place, I put it up for sale and bought a nice condo not far from my office.

I was called to testify in Julie's trial as well as Sylvester's. It didn't take the jury long to find them both guilty of all charges. A week later, I was asked to address the court for Julie's sentencing. The judge thanked me for my time and sentenced Julie to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Sylvester also got a life sentence.

It turned out I had a life sentence as well, but mine wasn't served in prison. Julie's betrayal and attempt to have me murdered affected me worse than I thought it would. My body had healed but I was a wreck emotionally. I spent the next two years in counseling with Dr. Carlson, who said I was suffering from a form of PTSD.

I worked, came home, ate, watched television and went to bed. I hit the gym three times a week and went to counseling once a week. That was my life. I couldn't even bring myself to go out or ask a woman for a date. I just didn't trust anyone. As for sex, well, let's just say, I watched porn from time to time and got very acquainted with my right hand.

Finally, Rose suggested I put my fears aside and ask someone out. I considered it for some time before I finally screwed up enough courage to take that next step. But, I wondered, who should I ask out? There were quite a few women in my office who had expressed an interest in me, but I was concerned about dating co-workers.

Finally, one day, I decided, "to heck with it," and asked Rhonda, a colleague who worked in a different section of the company, out for dinner. To my amazement, she accepted. We had a great time, and I felt more relaxed with her than I originally thought I would. We didn't have sex on that first date. That happened after the third date, and she rocked my world.

We've been dating now for about six months, and things are going quite well. She's even introduced me to her parents and we seem to get along just fine. Will I ever marry again? I don't know. One day, perhaps. For now, though, I'm just taking things one day at a time. Who knows what the future will bring?