The Perfect Crime Pt. 04: The Plot

"Oh Lord, she's back again" whispered Ginger.

"Huh?" I said.

"She comes in about three or four times a week, the poor darling. I don't think she has 2 dimes to rub together, and that mini-van is running on God's good graces."

The young lady, and the little girl came in, and took two seats at the counter. She was striking; Dark red hair, tied up in a French braid; green eyes the color of springtime grass; about 5'4", approx. 5' of which had to be legs, and breasts that looked to be about B-cups. She was very pretty, not beautiful, but haunted looking. She looked like I felt.

"She always orders coffee, and one piece of toast for herself, and oatmeal and chocolate milk for the little girl." I was surreptitiously checking the two of them out, and noticed the mother glancing around at the parking lot.

I motioned for Ginger, and as she came up with the coffee pot, I said "Give them breakfast; scrambled eggs and orange juice for the little girl, and the works for her mother, with a glass of orange juice for a kicker. Put it on my bill; and if they come in and I'm not here, do the same, and bill me."

She looked at me with wide eyes.

"It's what you get for being the boss" I chuckled. "And Ginger, it was some kind couple who don't want to be identified. Oh, yeah, do you have a small envelope?"

She turned and went to the cash register, and returned with an envelope. I pulled 5-20's out of my wallet.

In the meantime, I had taken out my smart phone, and photographed her Mississippi license plate, and her and the little girl.

"What do you have in mind, Jimmy?" Ginger asked.

"She looks like I feel."

She looked me in the eye, and said "Be careful. You don't know her story, and you shouldn't hurt her any more than she already is."

"Don't worry, I won't." I smiled at Ginger, and for the first time in 4 weeks, I almost felt human. As I went out the door, I took the 5-20's and put them in the envelope. As I passed her van, I tucked the envelope under her driver's side wiper blade, and passed on to the Bronco. I got in and went to work.

This would be a long and arduous day.

When I got to work, I pulled into my spot, and went and got the small cart we used to haul boxes and exhibits to court. I took it down to the truck, and loaded the boxes. I got into the elevator with my wife's sordid life, and went to the third floor. I took everything to the large conference room, and put the boxes on the table.

Then I went down to my office, and waited for the troops to arrive. 'This is rich,' I thought.' I'm the first one here.' I looked at my watch: 8:00 a.m. I went and made coffee, and went back to my office, and zoned out.

45 minutes later my major domo strolled in, and had heart failure when she saw me sitting at my desk. "Coffee's on," I said. And grinned. She stared at me, and then went into lunch room. She came back with her cup. "There's coffee on in the lunch room" she said, staring at me. "How long have you been here?"

I busted a gut laughing. "Only about 25 minutes." I said. "I had to see what you guys saw about getting here so early. Greatly overrated'" I said.

"I need Gerry, Jeremy, and Alison in the large conference room at 9:15."

"And you and Pete, also. Oh, and have Lainie and what's the new girls name??"

"Cynthia?" she asked.

"Yeah, Cynthia. We will probably need them too."

"O.K., boss."She turned and went to get everything set up. I steeled myself, and settled my thoughts. This had to be done.

At 10 after 9, I walked into the conference room, and took my seat. By 9:15, everyone was present. I asked Lainie to close the door, and it got quiet as a tomb. I started.

"O.K., this is what's up. I am dissolving the firm. You all have 2 weeks' notice." If it was quiet, before, I could hear crickets now. I couldn't hold it any more. I cracked up, and started to laugh.

"NOT FUNNY" was the overwhelming response.

"No, you're right. It wasn't. But I have to get everyone on the same page. Thankfully, it's 3 weeks to Thanksgiving, and we are in a slow period, so I have assembled my brain trusts in three applicable areas to help me. As far as I know you are the best at what you do. You are also scrupulously honest. These are two things I value, and I am counting on it.

"You all have a new client, your only client- ME. If there is anything you have going on, delegate it. This is your prime concern for a few weeks. Also, secrecy is absolute. This is going to be tighter than the Manhattan Project. If you come up on anything that even smells of illegal, stop, and come and get me. Any questions so far?"

Several looks were exchanged, but no one was equivocating.

"O.K., this is about my wife's estate, and legal status. I don't know what you know about our situation, but I will answer any questions you have. Some of the answers may be unpleasant or disgusting. But as GOD is my witness they will all be honest and legal. As far as I know, she died intestate, with no will, filed, or otherwise. If we discover otherwise, we will go from there. These boxes contain her tax returns, real estate holdings, investments, and bank statements, both personal, and business. Let's get to it."

Corey stood, and pulled over the box marked 'Real Estate', took out the files, and started perusing them. He lifted his head, and called Lainie over.

"Get me a large scale map of the county, and the state. Detailed. I need to see roads, streets, and developments."

"Yes, sir." She left the room.

Jeremy had the one labeled Bank Statements, and Tax Returns. Allison was already deep into the one labeled Bank and Investment Statements, and her face was going from Oh My God to ash pale. She started to furiously make notes.

"Cynthia," crooking her finger. Our newest intern/paralegal came over to her, and she said "Go down, and get me the Tax Laws Books, State and Federal. Bring them back up here. Tell the boys if they need something, they can come up here to check it out."

"Yes, Ma'am." She quickly left.

"Pete, come with me" I said. We went to the lunch room, and I sent his phone the pictures I had taken of the woman, the little girl, and the van's license plate.

"You find out everything about her, her kid, her marriage, her family, her in-laws, everything. But do it on the Q/T. No word gets out. As far as I know, there are probably people looking for her, but they don't know where she is right now. I don't want to let them have any info about her, or her whereabouts. Comprende?"

"No problem, boss. Is this related to the conference room meeting?"

"Indirectly. Maybe Janine's husband can do some discreet inquiries. But make sure he understands the ground rules before he reaches out."

"Got it."

"And see if you can find out what the book value of that van is."

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

"Not right now."

Lunch came, and the paralegals took orders, and sent out for food. If my staff thought they were going to be able to play Mine Craft or Candy Crush for a couple of days, they were wrong. The office was bustling, and I felt great.

At noon, Barbara Blaine called, and told me her husband had been served at work, with the divorce, alienation of affection, and the restraining order. The locksmith had been in and her house was secure. She had been in contact with her attorney, Giselle Anderson.

"She is my best divorce attorney" I told her. "I'm sure she'll make it clear that he should sign it and get past it. Let me know if there is anything you need."

We hung up and I called down to Giselle's office. Her secretary put me through to my shark.

"Yes, Mr. Tremaine, what can I do for you" She said. She never called me boss, for some reason, but coming from her, it always seemed right. Like Ginger calling me Jimmy.

"How is the Blaine divorce going?"

"I think he has something else on his plate. We served him at 9:30 this morning, and I just heard from his lawyer. He wants to settle; probably by the end of the week."

"Great! Make sure you take care of her. She was hurt like I was."

"Yes sir. And I'm sorry to hear about your wife. We will look out for you, boss. Don't worry about anything."

DAMN!! Even Giselle thinks I'm a basket case. I called Jersey Mike's, and had them deliver a hero, and a couple of cokes.

The rest of the afternoon went relatively quietly, and at 6:00 p.m., I cleared my desk, and left for the day. I stopped at Taco Cabana on the way home, and got a couple of margaritas, and a bunch of healthy Mexican food to go. I made it home, and put the truck away. I would drive the Beemer tomorrow. I ate my dinner, combined the blue margaritas in one glass, added the Tequila, and watched the Redskins get beat by the Dolphins on Monday night Football.

Maybe my luck was beginning to change.

Tuesday morning dawned cloudy, and windy. And by the time I made it to breakfast (guess) it was raining. Ginger didn't see me until I was in the door, and on my way to the counter. She looked out in the parking lot, and didn't see either the Bronco or the Jag.

"Well, what did you do, walk here?"

"No, I drove my former wife's car. It's not that German crate's fault she owned it."

She chuckled, and set my coffee in front of me.

"Breakfast will be a little bit; you snuck up on me" she said.

"It's o.k., I was in a little early yesterday; in fact, I was the first one there, and it gave everyone a scare. Take your time."

I sat there drinking coffee, and as she walked past, I asked Ginger "Hey, do you have any tomato juice? I love tomato juice."

"Sure; you want it right away, or with your food?"

"Both" I said.

"Coming up!" she said. I vegged a little, and then the coffee got refilled, and the tomato juice arrived. "It's actually V-8; we don't have any tomato. Is that o.k.?"

"It'll do" I said.

As I was sitting there, I noticed the Dodge min-van roll up, and stop, like she was looking for something.

"How's our friend doing?"

Ginger stopped, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "She almost freaked out when her and her daughter's food arrived. She looked around like a trapped animal, then said she hadn't ordered it, and couldn't pay for it. The poor thing. I told her our cover story, and said they were nice people who didn't expect anything in return; they just wanted to give a helping hand."

By now, she had parked the van, and they were on their way in; her head was on a swivel, but she didn't see what she was looking for. She walked in, and found two seats.

"Same drill, Ginger. And I appreciate your intercession."

She looked at me, and cocked her head slightly. "You're a nice guy, Jimmy. Don't go screwing this up" she said as she turned and walked away.

What was that all about? I wondered. This altruism just gave me a good feeling, which I thought I could use after everything that had happened. I threw down a couple of twenties, and then covered my bill, and a nice tip. As I exited, I pulled out a small envelope from my jacket pocket. I walked outside, and put the 2 twenties in the envelope, and slipped it under the driver's side wiper blade of the van. I walked to the Beemer, and got in. I watched in my rear view, and she was shaking her head, but it didn't look like she was refusing it. I smiled, started the car and drove to the drive thru doughnut shop, got 3 dozen donuts, and drove to work.

I showed up like a conquering hero (actually, the donuts were the heroes), and put 2 dozen in the lunch room, and 1dozen in the conference room. The conference room looked like the situation room at the White House on a bad day in the Middle East. Maps on the wall, folders, and printouts scattered about, and coffee cups littering the place. I went to my office, stopping for coffee and on the way. I sat down, and started to work.

Janine stuck her head in and said "Morning", and left for God knows what, or where. I perused the files on my desk. One was from Giselle, stating that shithead had taken the settlement, and had signed and returned the forms. We would be in front of a judge Thursday.

Good, then I'm really going to turn the screws on him. I moved it to the hold pile, and continued going through paperwork. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and I clocked out at 6:30. I drove home, and grilled a steak, baked a potato, and warmed up some red cabbage. Dinner of Champions! I watched some inane reality show (slept through most of it), caught the news, and went to bed.

Wednesday I got up, had breakfast, and went to work. Didn't go to Waffle House today, and just made it to the doughnut shop. Pulled into work, and deposited my treasures in the lunch room, and the conference room. Got a cup of coffee, and went to my office.

The rest of the day slipped away, and soon I was on my way home. As I was passing by the Shell station, I saw a familiar looking van with the hood up. Steam and smoke were coming out from the hood.

I whipped the Bronco into the parking lot, and pulled up next to it. Put the emergency flashers on, and got out. She was sitting in the driver's seat, with the thousand yard stare in her eyes, while she hugged her daughter. I came up to her door, far enough away so I didn't spook her, and said, "Excuse me." She jerked, and looked out the window. "I recognized you from the Waffle House."

"Please go away. I don't know you" she said.

"Just a minute." I said. I pulled my cell phone, and dialed Ginger. It rang 2 times, and then she answered.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Ginger, its Jimmy. (Cringe) Where are you?"

"Terry just picked me up; we're on our way home. What's wrong?"

"We have a situation. Our breakfast guest is broke down in the Shell station on 75 & 336. You know where?"

"Yes, we do. You stay with her; we'll be right there."

I put my phone away, and stood watching her. 7 minutes passed, and the big Ford unmarked car pulled up behind her van. Ginger jumped out and ran to me. She looked in the window, and almost broke down.

"Jillian, open the door, honey. It's Ginger from the Waffle House. Come on, sweetie, its cold out here." Well, now I knew her name. Terry came up and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Counselor, how you doing?"

"As well as can be expected, Sergeant." Ginger was working that magic she had, and soon she had the door open, and the baby in her arms. Jillian got out, and looked like if she could, she'd flip her tail up, and bolt for the woods. ...And there were no woods around.

Ginger took her hand and led her over to us.

"You know my husband, Terry, and this is Mr. Tremaine, a very good friend." She stared and I nodded. "We're going to take her home with us, and put them up for the night."

"Yes, dear" said Terry. And shot me a look like "Of course we will." I chuckled, and asked if they needed any help.

"Get their suitcases, and load them in to the trunk."

She got the two of them into the back seat of the car, while Terry and I moved luggage. There actually wasn't much; most of the stuff was boxes of things, and there wasn't much of that. I pulled my cell out again, and hit a speed dial #. 2 rings, and a gentleman of Mexican origin answered.

"Hello, Mr. Tremaine, what is wrong, amigo?"

"Hernando, I need you to come to the Shell station on 75 & 336. There is a white dodge Mini-van broke down, and it needs to be someplace safe for the night."

"On my way, my friend. 15 minutes."

I hung up, and turned to Terry. "I'll take care of her van, Hoss."

"Now, I like that nickname. Keep us apprised."

"No problem; tell her that her stuff will be safe."

"She'll be o.k., Counselor. Talk to you later."

Hernando showed up with his F-550 flatbed wrecker, and soon it was loaded up, and Hernando took it to his lot. I swore him to secrecy, telling him he wasn't breaking any laws, and he could call Sergeant Kinkaid if there were any questions at all. He should bill me.

"My friend, don't worry about the bill. For familia, it is an honor."

A good friend is good to have. I finally made it home, thinking of the petrified young lady, with the doe eyes, and the red hair. "Jillian" I thought. "The name fits her." I was not prepared for the onslaught of mental attacks to come.

The next morning, I stretched in bed, and debated whether I should go to work, or not. I had a feeling that today would be remarkable, so hauled myself out of bed, and got a good hot shower. I downed some OJ., and went out the door. I fired up the Jaguar, opened the door, and out I went.

I got to the Waffle House, and walked in to a laser bank of smiles and grins, from customers, and waitresses alike. Ginger put a special cup of coffee in front of me, and said breakfast was on the house, and on its way. At the end of the counter sat the two refugees. The little girl jumped up before her mother could stop her and walked up to me.

"Are you Mr. Main?" she asked.

"Ah, I guess I am."

"Uncle Terry, and Aunt Ginger say you are a really nice man." She never smiled, and never took her eyes off me. "They say you saved us and took care of us till they came last night."

"Well, I didn't want anything to happen to two pretty girls, and it was getting cold."

"Where is your big truck?"

"He's home in his barn, staying warm. I came in my Jaguar today."

She seemed to be considering that, then came over to me, and wrapped her arms tightly around my leg, and held her head against my knee. "Thank you, Mr. Main."

Aw, come on, what's a guy supposed to do? I touched the top of her head, leaned over and kissed her. Ginger was giggling, and looking at me with happiness in her eyes. Then her mother said, "Sonia, leave the man alone."

I froze, and shuddered as that name came out of her mouth. The entire atmosphere changed, and Ginger could see me alter. I pulled away from the little girl, threw a twenty on the counter, and left.

"JIMMY" she called after me, but I was gone. I fired up the Jag, backed out of my space, and fishtailed leaving the parking lot. I got to work really fast, so fast I forgot to get goodies.

I sat in the parking lot, fighting the churning mess in my stomach. I finally shut off the car, and went into the office. I saw Neal our apprentice and office boy, and called to him. I handed him $50, and told him to make a doughnut and kolaches run.

"Right away, boss" he said.

I hadn't eaten, and donuts weren't going to be enough. I got coffee, and went to my office. When the food arrived, I grabbed kolaches, and a doughnut, and returned to my desk.

Along about 11:00, I got a phone call from the conference room. Things were about to get real interesting.

I went to the combat control center (aka, conference room), walked in, and took a seat, coffee cup in hand.

"O.K., what's up?" Corey spoke up, "We're going to start with Jeremy, where the money is. Jeremy?"

"Boss, we've been able to work our way through approx. 90-95% of the financials, and we have determined that we all want a big raise."

I looked around the room at all smug looks on people's faces, and turned back to Jeremy. He was grinning.

"That was payback, boss."

I cringed, and said "Touche! Continue."

"Everything we've found is legal, and above board; maybe a little sleazy (no offense), but all legal. Taxes have all been accounted for, and it's all yours as her legal husband, even though she died intestate. We could not find any will, or indication of other disbursement of her funds or assets, so it's all yours. We took the liberty of filing the necessary forms, and paperwork, but it's just about a given it's all yours. Cash-wise to the tune of $12,000,000."

I whistled.

"That covers cash, accounts, c/ds, bonds, and several annuities."

"O.K., what else?"

"Corey?" said Jeremy.

"Boss, your former wife had numerous real estate holdings. Two condo developments, 3 upscale strip malls, a small housing development outside of Austin, a cottage in Bermuda, and a chateau in France. There may be more holdings in Europe, we're not sure. It's hard getting access. All told, holdings are valued at $45,000,000. We have already filed as her sole surviving heir. That's not a problem. All taxes and assessments were up to date. So far, it's just property. If you decide to liquidate for cash, the amount could go down, depending on how quick you want to do it. The market is a little depressed right now."