Table for Two Ch. 03: Opening Salvo

Apologies for taking so long to get this up. Life, as they say, sometimes happens. But things are settling down to a steady roar. Many thanks to those who have expressed their concerns over the last few weeks. It is very much appreciated! I would also like to thank all those who have read and offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.

And now, the disclaimers:

For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper... In addition:

1. Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
2. All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
3. Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

...

End of "Table For Two, Ch. 02: Revelations"

"What if all this doesn't work?" Samantha asked, fear etched in her voice.

"There's too much at stake here. If this doesn't work, and if we can't bring Mike to heel, we'll have no choice but to make sure he has an accident. One he never wakes up from," Allison told her firmly. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?" Samantha slowly nodded her head, understanding the implication of Allison's statement. "And do you understand, Alan?"

"Yeah, I get it," he told her.

I understood as well. The three of them intended to kill me if all else failed. The woman I had pledged my life and my love to had just agreed to see me dead. All for the love of money. She, of all people, should've known that I don't like to lose an argument. And I sure as hell wasn't about to lose this one. I pulled out my phone and made my first call to Ryan Harper, an old friend of mine in the FBI.

"Special Agent Harper," he said when he answered.

"Ryan, this is Mike Jacobs," I said. "How'd you like an exclusive?"

"Mike, you crusty old dog. I was just thinking about you," Ryan said. "What's this exclusive you have for me?"

"Conspiracy to commit murder and extortion, for starters," I told him.

"Oh yeah? Who's the victim?"

"Me."

...

And now, "Table For Two, Ch. 03: Opening Salvo"

"You? Are you sure of this?" Ryan asked, shocked.

"Absolutely," I told him. "I have them on video. You want me to send it to you?"

"Send it to me, now, and I'll call Sheriff Pratt. We're old buddies from way back. You have my email address, right?"

"I have it in my contact list. Thanks, Ryan, I appreciate that," I said as I prepared to send the video clip. After I formatted the email, I hit send. "It's on its way to you now."

"I see it," Ryan responded a few moments later. I could hear the muffled sound of the video playing through my phone. "Fuck. I can't believe Samantha would do that to you. Hang on, let me call the Sheriff." I heard him talking to someone on another phone for a few minutes, then he returned. "Okay, Sheriff Pratt is sending someone to your place now. What the hell's going on?"

Ryan listened quietly as I relayed the events of the last couple days. I heard him whistle when I finished.

"Damn. That's just cold-blooded," he exclaimed.

"I thought so," I told him.

"Where are you now? Are you safe? Do I need to send someone to cover you?" Ryan asked, concerned. I gave him my location and assured him I would be alright. He responded when I finished.

"Well, this doesn't look like a federal case, at least not yet. But if you need anything, give me a call. You hear me, Mike?"

"I got it. But thanks again, Ryan. I appreciate it." We ended the call and I looked at my laptop to see the three conspirators still talking.

"What about the ex? Do we kill him, too?" Alan asked.

"No," Allison commanded. "At least not yet. It would look too suspicious for two of Samantha's husbands to be killed so soon. Tomorrow, I'll start moving the funds we've been collecting from him and the others to an offshore account. Once that's finished, we'll re-evaluate Alvin's usefulness." So, I thought. There are other victims. This should prove to be interesting.

"You sound like you've done this before," Alan said. Allison smirked before responding.

"Let's just say this isn't exactly my first rodeo," she quipped. I watched them chatter on for about a half-hour, then saw the reflection of flashing lights outside. I smiled, knowing their little plot was about to get a monkey wrench thrown into it. A few moments later, I heard a knocking at the door.

"Sheriff's Department. Open up," I heard a man's voice call out. Samantha, Allison and Alan looked at each other, confused.

"You'd better open the door," Allison told Samantha. Sam followed Allison's direction and opened the door.

"Yes?" Samantha asked.

"Samantha Jacobs?" the deputy asked.

"That's me," Samantha said.

"Deputy Smith. This is Deputy Jones. May we come inside, please?"

"Uh, of course, Deputy," Samantha said. Two deputies entered the front room, one male and one female.

"Alan Williams? Allison Cartwright?" Smith asked. The other two nodded their heads. "We're here to take you three into custody. You're under arrest. Turn around, hands behind your back."

"Under arrest? For what?" Allison asked.

"According to the warrant, conspiracy to commit murder and extortion," Smith said. Sam, Allison and Alan looked at each other confused as Smith read their Miranda rights.

"How..."

"Shut up, Alan," Allison hissed. "Say nothing. To no one. Got it?"

"Your husband must've planted some bugs in the house," Alan told Samantha. "Did you know about that?"

"No, I didn't," Samantha said.

"Shut up, both of you," Allison commanded. "Say nothing! When we get to the county jail, I'll arrange for our representation. You have the right to remain silent, so USE IT!" The deputies finished their work and escorted the three conspirators out of my house. The video ended when the door closed. I grabbed my phone and placed my second call, this time to Alice Hawkins, my lawyer.

"What's happened, Mike? Why are you calling me after hours?"

"I just wanted to let you know Sam and her two conspirators have been arrested," I answered.

"Arrested? For what?"

"Conspiracy to commit murder and extortion. I have their plot captured on video," I told Alice.

"Oh my God," Alice exclaimed. "Can you get me a copy of that video?"

"Already on it," I said as I prepared to email the video.

"Well, this will certainly help out when I go to see Judge Banks about the restraining order," Alice told me.

"Would that be Judge Kenneth Banks?" I asked.

"One and the same. Why? Do you know him?"

"I ran an intervention on his behalf about ten years ago," I explained. "Intervention" was the term we used in the Task Force for helping targeted husbands. "Before he became a judge," I added. "Couldn't that be seen as a conflict of interest?"

"Have you done anything on his behalf since then?" Alice asked.

"No," I told her.

"Then it shouldn't be an issue. Chances are he may not even remember your name," Alice said.

"Maybe. I doubt that he forgot the intervention, though."

"Well, don't worry about it. If he asks, then I'll tell him. Otherwise, we won't say anything," she told me.

"When do you go before him?" I asked Alice.

"Tomorrow afternoon. 1:00. I also have a motion to unfreeze your accounts along with a demand that Samantha return at least 35 percent of everything she took. I'll be arguing those in front of Judge Banks at that time. Hopefully, with Samantha in custody, I'll have good news for you by this time tomorrow."

"I look forward to that," I told Alice.

"As do I. Get a good night's sleep, Mike. I'll talk to you tomorrow." We ended the call and I placed my third call of the evening, this time to Wilson Langley, Samantha's boss. He also happened to be Allison and Alan's boss as well.

Since I was responsible for getting Langley's business, I had his personal cell number in my contacts. I only had reason to call him on this number once since he signed on with ISS.

"Langley," the older man answered after the first ring.

"Mr. Langley, this is Mike Jacobs, ISS. How are you this evening, sir?"

"I was enjoying a nice steak dinner with some friends," he said. I could hear the background noise indicating he was probably at the country club, where Pop often ate. "What can I do for you, Mr. Jacobs? Is there a problem with the security at my office building?"

"None that I'm aware of, Mr. Langley. But there is a problem with three of your employees."

"Oh? What kind of problem?"

"A legal one. They've been arrested," I told him. "They're on their way to the county jail as we speak."

"What?" Langley hissed. I could tell he covered the phone as he spoke to his dinner guests. Then he turned his attention back to me. "Hang on, let me go somewhere a bit quieter." I could hear him leave the table and waited for him to speak, which only took a few moments. "What's going on, Mr. Jacobs?"

"As you know, my wife, Samantha - your executive assistant - has filed divorce papers against me," I explained.

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"I have video of her, Alan Williams and Allison Cartwright, plotting to murder me. I also have evidence of them conspiring to extort me as well," I told him calmly. "Given our business relationship, I felt I owed it to you to let you know."

"Damn," he spit. "You say you have proof of this?"

"Yes, sir, I have video, taken in my own home. I have reason to believe there's more to the story and I intend to get to the bottom of this."

"Do you suspect me or my firm of any illegalities?" Langley asked quietly.

"I have no direct evidence of that, Mr. Langley. Not at this time. But all three of the perps in this case do work for you," I told him calmly.

"Yes, so it seems. At least for the moment. But everyone is entitled to a defense, Mr. Jacobs. They'll get their day in court just like everyone else. And if it turns out your allegations are true, then I'll fire them. Is that sufficient?" he asked.

"Yes, that will suffice, Mr. Langley," I said.

"Good. And... thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Jacobs."

"You're welcome," I said, ending the call. There was one more call to make. I looked at the information Terry gave me about Alan Williams and made my next move. I dialed the New York number for Alan and Rhonda Williams, hoping Alan's wife would answer the phone. I heard a woman's voice after two rings.

"Williams residence," she said.

"I'd like to speak with Rhonda Williams, please," I said.

"This is she," the woman replied.

"Mrs. Williams, my name is Mike Jacobs. I have some bad news regarding your husband, Alan." I heard her sigh before speaking.

"What's my husband done now?" she asked quietly.

"Your husband has been sleeping with my wife," I told her.

"You have ironclad proof of this?"

"I have video of them together."

"Damn him," Rhonda hissed. "I warned him if this happened again, we were through."

"There's more, Mrs. Williams," I said.

"Please, call me Rhonda," she said. "You say there's more..."

"Yes, Rhonda. And please call me Mike. Your husband has been arrested for conspiracy to commit murder and extortion. I have a feeling more charges will be forthcoming. He and his two conspirators are being taken to the county jail even now," I said.

"Oh my God," Rhonda whispered sadly. "I'm really very sorry about all this."

"It's not your fault, Rhonda. He made his choices. Now he'll have to live with them."

"Yes, of course. You're right. You say you have evidence. Can you send that to me, please?"

"Of course," I told her. Rhonda gave me her personal email address, and I added it to my contacts. "I'll send you what I have as soon as we get off the phone. Again, I'm sorry about this."

"Like you said, Mike. It's not your fault. Alan made his bed. Now he'll have to lie in it. Thank you for letting me know," Rhonda said sadly. I felt bad for her and her children. I knew the media shitstorm they would have to deal with as a result of Alan's actions.

We ended the call and I followed through with my promise. I sent her all the videos I had involving Alan with a short note of condolence. I had one more call to make, and I knew this would be the hardest. Picking up my phone, I called Pop, who answered after the second ring.

"Sam's been arrested," I said quietly.

"Yes, I know. She called me from the county jail," Pop said. I could hear the sadness in his voice. "She says they're charging her with conspiracy to commit murder. Is it true?"

"I'm afraid it is, Pop," I responded. "I have it on video."

"I can't believe she would go along with something like that," Pop sighed.

"She did, Pop. Anyway, it's in the hands of the authorities now."

"Who else knows?" Pop asked.

"Her boss, Wilson Langley. I just told him a few minutes ago. I also spoke to Alan Williams' wife in New York. And my lawyer."

"You know this is gonna cause a media shit show," Pop said.

"Probably," I said. "Shit like this usually does." Pop chuckled at that.

"We'll get through it," Pop finally said. "Thanks for letting me know."

"You're welcome," I responded. I felt bad for the old guy, realizing that he wasn't responsible for what his daughter had done.

"Well, I'd best get going," Pop finally said. "Let me know if you hear anything."

"Alright, Pop. Have a good evening. Give my best to Mom," I said before ending the call. Looking out the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony, I saw the sun had gone down and observed the twinkling lights of the city. I felt somewhat relieved at the events of the day and wanted to do... something. Anything.

I felt like checking out and going back to my home, but remembered the restraining order was still in effect. I would not be surprised if Allison's private investigators were watching to see if I would try to sneak back once the conspirators had been taken away.

Feeling a bout of "cabin fever," I simply HAD get out of that room before I went nuts. So I went downstairs, bought another cigar and planted myself by the pool to enjoy the cool night air, a drink, and a smoke. After a couple hours, I came back to the room, crawled under the covers and slept like a baby.

I woke up later than usual the following morning, so I got up, showered, shaved, and did my normal business before going downstairs for some breakfast. I didn't have anything on my plate for the day, other than waiting for news from Alice, so I took a nice, leisurely stroll around the downtown area before going back to my room.

The knock came after I had only been back a few moments. Not expecting anyone to show up, I grabbed my pistol and peered through the peephole. I saw two men in cheap suits, badges on their belts.

"Who is it?" I queried.

"Police Department, Mr. Jacobs. We'd like a word, please," I heard a man respond.

"Hold your credentials up so I can see them," I demanded. "Not just your badges." They looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and held up their official police credentials. Reading their "box tops," I learned they were Detectives Johnson and Caraway. I had met Johnson a few years back at a fundraiser supporting widows and orphans of officers killed in the line of duty. I had never personally met Caraway, but I knew of his reputation.

I decided to take a chance they were the real deal, and holstered my weapon. "Just a second," I told them. Cracking the door open, I surveyed the hall in both directions, then invited them inside.

"Just so you know, there is a loaded weapon in the room," I told them. "It's holstered and has been rendered safe."

"We expected as much, Mr. Jacobs," one of the detectives said. "We know you're a former federal agent and we also know you have a permit to carry. We just have a few questions regarding your wife and a couple of her colleagues."

"Alright. Come on in. Care for some coffee?"

"Sure. Black, please," Detective Johnson said. Caraway echoed his statement, so I poured them each a cup of the hot black brew. They took a tentative sip before curling their lips in disgust.

"Damn. You call this shit coffee?" Caraway asked.

"That's what it says on the package," I told him. "Tastes fine to me."

"Yeah, you're a former fed alright," Johnson quipped with a wry smile. I invited them to take a seat before sitting on the bed.

"So, what can I do for the city's finest?" I asked.

"We're here about the charges against your wife, Samantha Jacobs, her attorney, Allison Cartwright, and her... colleague - Alan Williams," Johnson said.

"I figured that," I said, half-jokingly. "What do you want to know?"

"We understand that Mrs. Jacobs has filed a petition for divorce against you. Claims adultery. She insists this is all a big misunderstanding. Says you called in the report out of revenge," Caraway stated, looking at his notebook.

"I take it you haven't seen the video," I responded. Both of them looked at me, surprised. Apparently, they hadn't seen the video. "I take it that's a 'no.' Am I right?"

"We're not aware of any video," Johnson said.

"Well, take a look at this, gentlemen. I'd offer you some popcorn, but I'm fresh out at the moment," I joked. I pulled up the video on my laptop and showed it to the detectives. They watched, stunned, as the three conspirators so glibly discussed murdering me if I didn't go along with their plot. They also took note of Alan's desire to load up my computer with... something.

"Any idea what's on that little thumb drive Williams has?" Johnson asked.

"Probably child porn," I told him. "Since Williams had it on him when he was arrested, you can probably find it at the county jail with the rest of his things."

"We'll need to go check it out," Caraway told Johnson, who instantly agreed.

"Can you get us a copy of all the videos you have of them?" Johnson asked me.

"Sure," I replied. "I'll give you a copy of everything I have, including the video of the conversation I had with Cartwright at Luigi's."

"Thanks. That would be a big help," Johnson said, handing me a thumb drive. I copied everything over and handed the drive back.

"When is the arraignment?" I asked.

"Tomorrow morning, 10:00 am," Johnson said. "In fact, the DA asked us to extend an invitation to you, since he might have to ask you a couple questions."

"I'll be there," I told him. "Just one suggestion. You might want to look deeper into Cartwright. I suspect this isn't the first time she's tried something like this."

"What makes you say that?" Caraway asked.

"I spoke with Alvin Morrison, Samantha's first husband. Cartwright pulled the same trick with him. If you like, I'll give you Morrison's contact information."

"Please do," Johnson said. The two detectives looked at each other as I wrote out Alvin's information. I also showed them the photos Allison used in both divorce cases.

"Interesting," Caraway said.

"Indeed," Johnson acknowledged. "Alright, Mr. Jacobs, we'll talk to this Morrison character, see what he says. Thank you for your cooperation."

"My pleasure," I told him.

"Just one last thing, Mr. Jacobs. Consider it a word to the wise. I know of your reputation. You're not a federal agent anymore. Pulling a weapon on an officer of the court isn't exactly the smartest move to make, no matter how justified you felt. Leave this to us. We'll take care of things from here. Got it?"

"I got it, Detective Johnson," I said with a smile. We all shook hands and I walked them to the door. Seeing that it was time for lunch, I ordered a sandwich from room service and watched some television as I ate.