The Inheritance Pt. 03

"Okay, you two, we're letting you go," he said. "You may be called as witnesses later but for now, we have no information that you two were part of the Stomp Boyz organization, so after the background checks come back, you'll be free to go"

Agent Anderson tinkered with the computer in the front seat for a few minutes before frowning at Buttercup. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn, but I see you're still on parole. We're going to have to take you into custody for violation, being present where crimes were committed, and for consorting with known criminals."

Anderson opened his door and loosened my cuffs.

"Mr. Snodgrass, you're free to go."

I looked down at myself, still dressed in my nightgown.

"Um, is it okay if I go inside and get some regular clothes?"

Agent Fawlking walked up from behind and smirked. "What's wrong with those clothes? No, you can't go back into the house; it's a crime scene now. But I'll tell you what -- I'll let you grab your car keys, so you can drive home instead of taking the bus."

I fumed, since it made no sense to allow me onto the "crime scene" to retrieve my keys but not a change of clothes. I knew Agent Fawlking was doing it just to be an asshole.

"You really need to give up the sugar, Timmy," Fawlking said as I slipped into my car still wearing the nightgown. "They say stevia doesn't taste too bad. Anything but the sugar, eh?"

I almost said, "fuck you," but decided against it, fearful he might slap the cuffs on me again. Instead, I whispered, "did you guys arrest Hakim and Isaac?"

Anderson nodded and leaned in close, his voice barely audible. "We got all of them. Not just the Stomp Boyz but members of the cartel as well. Great work, Tim. The best news is, we got them cold during the transaction, so we've got all the evidence we need. You'll be treated as a CI, and won't have to testify."

"It's your move, Tim," Agent Anderson said as I started my car. "You've got the rest of your life ahead of you; are you gonna make the same mistakes again?" He nodded at me. "Good luck, Tim. And thanks again."

"Bye, Twinkie," Agent Fawlking called as I pulled away.

As soon as I left Isaac's driveway, emotions overcame me and I started bawling so heavily my entire body shook, and I hadn't gone two blocks before I had to pull to the curb and collect myself.

The nightmare was over.

I made it home and waited in the car for several minutes before the coast was clear, and then dashed into the house to change out of my nightgown and and wash the makeup off my face.

I'd been home about an hour when Amber and the twins filed through the front door. I rushed to greet them.

"OMG, is everyone okay?" I searched their faces. They blinked back.

"We were in the swimming pool when a bunch of DEA guys came in and arrested Frank, Ron and JJ," Amber said. "Where's Hakim?"

"They arrested him, too," I said.

"What? Where is he?" Amber squealed while the twins sobbed.

"Um, I don't know, but, um, from the sound of it, he's probably going to prison for a long time."

Amber's eyes flashed. "What the hell makes you say that?"

"I overheard the DEA agents," I lied. "They said they caught him and Isaac buying 20 kilos of cocaine from some cartel from Peru."

Amber's eyes narrowed. "Fuck. Well, when the 15th gets here, we'll get the best lawyer money can buy."

"But, honey, I don't think a lawyer is gonna help. Those agents said they caught them right in the middle of the drug sale. I don't think he's getting off."

"Fuck you, Tim." My wife slapped my face. "What are you, Matlock all of a sudden? My man is in trouble and I'm gonna help him."

"Yeah, don't talk about my dad like that," Leesa frowned. Shanice folded her arms and nodded.

And then, for the second time in a week, something inside me snapped.

"You know what?" I set my jaw. "Fuck this shit. Amber, you are gonna need a lawyer, because I'm filing for a divorce. Don't bother trying to access my inheritance account, either, because the first thing tomorrow morning, I'm removing your name. I'll give you and the girls a fair alimony, even though legally I don't have to. Otherwise, have a nice fucking life chasing after your drug dealer boyfriend, Amber. I'm out of here."

I stomped out of the house and drove away, smiling at the road.

After purchasing a fifth of 100-proof Jim Beam, I drove into town and rented a suite at the Waldorf Astoria Chicago, where I lived like a drunken, solitary king for almost two full days.

But as the sun set on my second day of freedom, with tears in my eyes and four empty whiskey bottles on my nightstand, I picked up my cellphone and dialed. After listening to the recorded message, I waited for the beep.

"Um, Amber? Uh, hey, it's Tim. Listen, I'm so sorry about everything I said. I'm so very sorry. I love you and want us to stay together. Can we talk? Please? We can get a good lawyer for Hakim if you want. I'll go get the best there is. Just please, call me back. Okay? I love you. Call me back. Please? Please?"

THE END