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"No... I don't," she said.
"Mr. Nelson made a number of wild and dubious claims during the divorce," Roger said. "Veronica here was the real victim. He stalked her, threatened her, even went after her sister. He came very close to being arrested and thrown in jail."
"Mr. Nelson said the divorce was contentious," I said. "But I'm not here about that. I'm here specifically to investigate his claim of damage."
"What kind of property damage is he referring to?" Roger asked.
"Specifically, a baseball card collection and a stamp collection. Do either of you know anything about that?"
"Well, he did have those collections, but they got damaged when a water pipe broke in the house," Veronica said.
"So let me see if I have this right," Roger said. "Mr. Nelson got his little baseball card and stamp collection ruined and he filed a claim for damage. Is that right? I mean, come on. That's something a little kid would have. Not a grown man. Get serious."
"The combined value of those collections were appraised at somewhere just north of $250,000, Mr. Lee," I said. "Some of the stamps in that collection were acquired by his grandfather in Europe during the Second World War. Those stamps can never be replaced. Plus, those collections held a great deal of sentimental value to Mr. Nelson. I'm sure you understand."
"So what does any of that have to do with me or this firm?" Roger asked.
"Mr. Nelson says he has reason to believe those collections were deliberately destroyed by his now ex-wife and her lover, someone he believes is an employee of this firm," I said. "Perhaps, even a partner or someone in a management position." The two of them looked at each other for a second and I heard him exclaim, "oh, shit," in his mind. I wasn't finished, however.
"I'm sure you understand as an officer of the court, Mr. Lee, that if that damage was done deliberately it constitutes a felony under California law, specifically, California Penal Code Section 594, given the value of those collections. The last time I looked, that could get someone sent to state prison for up to three years, along with a fine of up to $50,000.
"And if it's determined that Ms. Hartley conspired with someone else to deliberately destroy Mr. Nelson's property, that makes it a criminal conspiracy under California law, specifically, Section 182 of the penal code," I said, pressing the issue. Both of their faces went pale when I said that, but Roger recovered first.
"I'm an attorney, Cameron," he said. "I'm very well aware of California law."
"Then you understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Lee," I said. "And as an officer of the court, I'm sure you will cooperate should this become a criminal matter."
"Of course," he said. His mind, however, was reeling from what I had just said and he was desperately thinking of ways to weasel out of the situation. "Is there anything else, Cameron?"
"No, Mr. Lee, I have everything I came here for," I said. "You have the number to my office. Please feel free to call if you can think of anything else."
"How long will you be here?" Roger asked.
"I'm leaving in the morning," I said. He nodded his head.
"Very well," he said. "If either of us can think of anything, we'll call. If there's anything more you need in this matter, feel free to contact me."
"I will, Mr. Lee," I said, standing up. He stood and we shook hands. "Thank you for the coffee." I shook Veronica's hand. "Good day, Ms. Hartley." I turned and left, leaving them both reeling. I could sense the emotional turmoil in both of them and I felt good, having accomplished my goal.
I took the elevator back to the first floor and connected to Roger's mind. Veronica was beside herself with worry.
"Was he right? Can we go to jail for what we did to Joe's collections?" she asked.
"Technically, he's right," Roger said. "But it's a bit more nuanced than that. Don't worry, no one's going to jail for pissing on a childish collection of stamps and baseball cards. Did you know they were worth that much at the time?"
"I knew they were worth quite a bit, but I didn't know it was that much," she said. I knew she was lying, and I could tell she knew she was lying as well.
"Then that's our defense," he said. "Call Hammer, have him meet me at the Watering Hole," he added, giving her a slip of paper which I presumed had Hammer's number. "Don't let him give you any shit. I wanna see him immediately, if not sooner. I wanna find out everything I can about this Cameron fucking Drake." He punched a button on his office intercom as Veronica called Hammer.
"Yes, Mr. Lee?" the receptionist said.
"Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day. I'll be out of the office to take care of... personal matters," he said.
"Yes, sir," she said. Just then, the elevator doors opened and I was on the first floor. I grabbed my phone, pulled up my Uber app and arranged for a car to pick me up. According to the app, my ride would be here in about 10 minutes.
"Okay if I wait for my ride? I just ordered an Uber," I told the man at the front desk.
"Sure," he said. "You can wait there if you want," he added, pointing to a row of plastic chairs along the front window.
"Thanks," I said, walking to the chairs. When I saw the car stop at the curb, I headed out. When we got to the motel, I spoke to the driver.
"Say, you know where the Watering Hole is?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah, man, it's about maybe 15 or 20 minutes over in that direction, depending on the traffic," he said as he pointed out the window. "You want me to give you a lift over there?"
"No, thanks," I said. "I heard someone mention it and was just curious. Maybe next time."
"No problem," he said. "Have a good day now."
"Yeah, you too," I said. "Thanks." I headed to my room, set up my laptop and downloaded Roger and Veronica's brain feeds. While the app processed those feeds, I connected to Roger's mind to see what he was up to.
He was sitting at a table in a small bar sipping a drink when Hammer showed up. He looked up at Hammer and motioned for him to sit. Hammer ordered a beer and looked at Roger.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I have another job for you," Roger said, pulling out a photo. I could tell it was of me, taken at the front desk in his building. "I need to know everything you can get me on Cameron Drake." Hammer's eyes grew wide and his face looked pale.
"Blue eyes, weird little specks?" Hammer asked.
"Yeah, you know about him?" Roger asked.
"I do. And if you were smart, you'd stay the fuck away from him," Hammer said.
"Why? He's just another man, like you or me. Don't tell me you're scared of him."
"Look, Mr. Lee, I can't explain it, but there's something about that guy that really scares the shit outta me. You know I'm not afraid of any man. But him? Hell, I'd rather tangle with a mob boss than him."
"What makes you say that?" Roger asked.
"Like I said, I can't really explain it. You'll probably think I'm crazy, but he has a way of getting into your head, know what I mean?"
"No, I don't know what you mean," Roger said. "Spell it out for me. I find it hard to believe anyone could spook 'Sledge' Hammer." Hammer took another sip of his beer and let out a long sigh.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you," he said. "First time I met him was at a hospital where his wife was in a coma. I'll never forget it. I had been assigned to follow him by my boss at the time, Harold Bergstrom."
"You mean, the Chairman of the Board of that financial company who was sentenced to life in prison?"
"Yeah, that was him. Anyway, he wanted me to find out what I could about Drake. I didn't ask why, and it didn't really matter to me. Anyway, I was sitting in the hospital coffee shop when Drake sat down right in front of me. We said a few words, then his eyes... They flashed. Red. Like something you'd see in a science fiction movie or something. Then my head felt like it was gonna explode. Weirdest shit I ever experienced. He told me to leave him and his wife alone.
"Told me to leave town. After that, I believed him, so I quit Bergstrom and went east. After Bergstrom got sent to the slammer, he called me. Said he had a job for me. Wanted me to take out Drake and his wife. Pro bono, like you lawyers do sometimes.
"I told him to give me a couple months or so and left. When I got back to my room, Drake just appeared right out of thin air. Told me to go back east and forget about him and his wife. Or else. I told him Bergstrom has lots of friends, but he said Bergstrom would either be dead or in a padded cell in a week.
"At first I thought he was just bullshittin' me. But sure enough, Bergstrom was taken to the prison psych ward less than a week later, just like Drake said. Claimed the spiders were coming after him. A contact of mine in the prison said Bergstrom went nuts in the chow hall, started yelling about spiders and stabbing himself with a fork trying to kill them. Last I heard, he's still there.
"So no, I'm not about to fuck with Cameron Drake. You want someone to look into him, you'll have to find someone else."
"I... see," Roger said, digesting what Hammer just said. "Find anything new about Nelson?"
"No, nothing. I've been around his place, but there's another investigator keeping an eye on things. I don't know who he works for, but I'm trying to find out."
"Interesting," Roger said.
"You want me to lean on some of his co-workers?" Hammer asked with a wicked smile.
"No," Roger said. "This isn't Atlantic City. We know Nelson will be back. I have some things going on over the next six weeks and the last thing I need is a lot of unwanted attention. For now, just lay low. I have some other things for you to do in the meantime so you're still on the payroll."
"Alright. You're the boss," Hammer said.
"That's right," Roger said. "And don't you ever forget that." I disconnected from his mind and thought about what I had witnessed. I connected with Ginger and saw her in the kitchen, making herself something to eat.
"Hey, you," I said in her mind, causing her to jump.
"Dammit, Cam, you almost made me pee myself," she said.
"Sorry, just wanted to check in and say hi," I told her.
"Well, hi right back at ya," she said. "How's it going?"
"I got what I came here for. How's it going with you?"
"I'm doing alright, just miss you. Sorry about earlier."
"That's alright," I said. "I understand."
"I know it sounds a bit hypocritical after what I put you through, but it pissed me off the way that girl was looking at you."
"We talked about this, remember? Did I give you any reason to think I'd fall for her or something?"
"No, it's just... I don't know. Maybe it's my hormones or something. I'm sorry, really I am. I know you'd never screw around on me," she said.
"That's right," I said. "I'd never mess around on you. Ever. You're my wife and I love you."
"I love you too," she said. "I'm just... afraid."
"You've got nothing to be scared of, sweetheart," I said. "Maybe we need to work on our communication, you know?"
"Maybe," she said. "I just love you so much and I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," I said. "Max is gonna be back soon, and we'll get something to eat and call it a day. I'll see you when we get back tomorrow, okay? We'll talk more then."
"Actually, I was kinda hoping to see you tonight. You know, after we're both in bed," she said with a mischievous grin. I grinned back.
"I like the sound of that," I said. "I'll see you then." We disconnected and I heard a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Max, so I let him in.
"I got it," he said, waving a manila envelope in the air.
"Joe's divorce file? The whole thing?" I asked.
"Every bit of it," he said.
"I thought it was sealed. How'd you manage that?" I asked.
"I spoke to a judge I helped out once. He was more than happy to oblige, in fact," Max said with a smile.
"Have you looked at it yet?" I asked.
"I glanced at it, a lot of legal gobbedegook, mostly. I did notice one thing, though. Veronica's attorney of record just happened to be Roger Lee himself. He had his underlings do most of the dirty work, though."
"Veronica's lover," I said.
"Yup," Max said. "And co-conspirator."
"He could get disbarred for that, couldn't he?" I asked.
"The last time I looked, yes. But I'm not a lawyer, and this is California, so I can't really say for sure. I'll leave that for the legal beagles at Camp Rollins. How'd you make out?"
"Got everything I came for," I said. "Got both Roger's and Veronica's brain feeds."
"Look at 'em yet?"
"No, not yet. I listened in on a conversation between Lee and Hammer," I said. "Looks like Lee's going to back off Joe for a while, at least until he gets back from the camp."
"Does he know where Joe is?"
"No idea," I said. "Hammer wasn't able to put it together, either."
"Good. That'll give the lawyers up north time to work their magic, then," Max said. "And it'll give you time to dig through their memories."
"Yeah, it will," I said.
"Better you than me," he said sarcastically. "In the meantime, keep a loose tab on Lee, Hammer and Veronica."
"I will," I said.
"I don't know about you but I could go for something to eat."
"Yeah, I could eat something as well."
"I don't like the idea of leaving this stuff behind, though," he said.
"Then let's call something in," I said. "I've got Uber Eats. Might as well put it to good use." We ordered a meal from Olive Garden and enjoyed it as we watched a movie on the television in my room. When the movie was over, Max yawned and I realized how tired I was. We stepped outside for a quick smoke as we finished our tea.
"I'm gonna hit the rack," Max said when we finished. "Our flight leaves pretty early, so make sure you're up in time."
"No problem," I said as I went back into my room. I cleaned up from our meal and got ready for bed. I was exhausted when I laid down and thought of Ginger as I started falling asleep.
"Not so fast, mister," I heard in my mind. I looked and saw Ginger in our bed, completely naked, her legs spread wide. "I've been wanting to do this for a while."
"What's that?" I asked.
"This," she said as she ran her fingers through her shaved lower lips. "Just lay there and watch me. I'm going to be your after-movie entertainment." I watched, mesmerized by what she was doing to herself. I had never seen her masturbate like this before and I have to admit, I really liked watching her do this.
"Like what you see, sailor?" she asked with a wicked smile.
"I love it," I said. Her smile grew wider as she pulled out a large dildo from her nightstand. "Where did you get that?" I asked.
"Bought it online," she said as she got on her knees. "Watch this." As I looked, she impaled herself on the thing as she looked me in the eyes. "God, I wish you were here. I'd fuck your brains out right now. I need you in me right now," she moaned as she went up and down on the fake cock. "Go ahead. Grab your cock. Let me watch. Show me how turned on you are."
I did as she asked and before long, both of us were about to finish as we watched the other. I saw her eyes flash and I knew she had experienced an orgasm. But she wasn't finished, and kept on pounding herself with the dildo.
"Cum with me," she cried. "Please." I stroked myself as I watched her fuck herself with the thing. Then it happened. She squirted at the same time her eyes flashed a bright pink. She threw her head back and let out a wild cry. I erupted just as she looked back at me.
"Oops," she said sheepishly as I cleaned myself up. "I wasn't expecting that. Guess I'll have to change the sheets before I go to sleep. Oh well. Did you enjoy that?"
"I did," I told her. "What made you decide to do this?"
"I thought we'd try something a bit different tonight," she said. "Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow, I plan to wear you out."
"Sounds like a plan to me," I told her. We exchanged kisses and said our good-nights. I slept like a baby that night, waking up at 6:00 am the next morning. Max and I drove to the airport and said goodbye to Orange County. When Max dropped me off at the house, he helped me carry my things inside and handed me a card with the address of the gallery where he and Adrestia stayed.
"Adrestia's expecting you two about 1:00 in the afternoon," he said. "No need to dress up. Just come casual."
"We'll see you then," I said. Ginger rocked my universe that night, and I made sure her eyes flashed several times before we fell asleep in each other's arms. The next morning, I caught up some of the chores around the house and we headed out around 12:00. We got to the address Max gave me about 45 minutes later.
The large Victorian house sat back from the road a bit. It looked old but well-maintained. The yards were neatly trimmed and full of trees and bushes. I parked the car and we went to the door. It opened before I could knock and we saw Adrestia's face peering out from inside.
"Please come inside," she said. "We've been expecting you." We went inside and looked around. The inside, much like the exterior, seemed old but very well-maintained. It had a bit of a gothic tone to it, reminding me of something I had seen in an old movie.
I couldn't help but notice how highly polished the wooden panels were. I figured Adrestia probably spent much of her day dusting the place down to keep it clean. "I hope you don't mind, but I planned on a late lunch," she said as we walked inside.
"That's fine with us," Ginger said. "This is a beautiful place," she added, looking around.
"Thank you," Adrestia said. "It can be a pain at times to keep clean."
"I'll bet," Ginger said.
"Please, come this way, I'll show you the main part of the gallery," Adrestia said with a smile.
"Isn't Max joining us?" I asked.
"He'll be along shortly," she said. "He's finishing up a couple things for me." We walked to a large doorway, and Adrestia stopped before we went through.
"I should warn you in advance that you may find some of these portraits a bit... disturbing. I must also respectfully ask that you not touch any of them. Some of them are very old and quite... fragile," she said. "And there could be other... consequences."
"Of course," I said, wondering what she meant by "consequences." She smiled and walked through the doorway. We followed her and I was stunned when she turned the lights on. There, on each side of the wide corridor, were paintings, three high on each wall for as far as the eye could see. It was almost as if the interior of the house was larger than the exterior. How was this possible, I asked myself. Ginger thought the same thing.
I looked at the portraits and noticed they included men and women of all ages, races and walks of life. Some were obviously rich and powerful. All of them, though, appeared to be in a state of extreme distress and some images seemed to be taken shortly before death. I had never seen such a macabre collection of pain and anguish in my entire life.
One portrait showed a woman in mid-air, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent scream. Looking closer, I could see she was falling. Another portrait showed a woman falling into what looked like the maw of a giant shark. Her eyes were wide and like the previous portrait, her mouth was open in an eternal scream. Similar portraits lined both corridors. My God, I thought to myself. What kind of collection is this?
"A one-of-a-kind collection," Adrestia said as if reading my thoughts. "Not exactly for the squeamish."
"Who are these people?" I asked.
"Cheaters. Narcissists. People who spent their lives hurting others. Mostly the ones who loved them the most," she said.
"So they were real people?" I asked.
"Yes, they were," she said. "Very real. Like this one," she added, pointing to an image of a man in Roman garb being stabbed by what looked like soldiers.
