UnVailed

Five years ago I divorced my wife Joy. I thought the divorce would be a clean cut, no bullshit deal but I turned out to be dead wrong.

After I refused to talk to her and hear her out, Jim hired an attorney for her. When my attorney got the financial forms back from her I noticed that she had failed to include her secret account.

I had spent weeks wondering about how she'd funded that secret account. Then one day out of the blue I ran into Cal Davis. At first he tried to duck me but finally stood his ground. I told him that I didn't harbor any ill will toward him and took him to lunch. Over lunch he spilled a lot of beans.

It turned out that the paychecks that Joy was depositing into our general account were the commissions from her sales and her three trainees. Her bonus checks and the commissions she got from people renewing their policies went into the secret account. He himself had set up a separate account as well for his renewals only.

As a bonus, he was able to supply me with all of her information. I saw how much she'd earned in bonus money and renewals. After a call to our accountant and an anonymous hacker got information from the IRS, who also called me a major cock-tease when I told him of my career change, I found that Joy had earned over $120,000 in unreported income over the six year period. I had moved just over $30,000 into our general account after I discovered it.

She didn't know that I knew about the account and was going to screw me. I had offered her a 50/50 split of our account and we each kept our own assets. She countered with an offer that gave her 75% of our general account, because she was being nice and not asking for half of the house that I had inherited while we were married. My attorney argued that since she had a house, she was losing nothing on my inheritance. We finally agreed to a 50/50 split of our general account and she'd get 50% of my business.

I signed that deal in a hurry and we got it entered into the court system. I had a check cut for exactly half of our general account, plus fifty cents. I had sold my share of the mason business back to my uncle for the same dollar I paid him for it. Since I had owned the tools before I had been married she couldn't touch those.

After selling the business I enrolled in school and finished the requirements to get my criminal justice degree and I went to work for the El Paso County Sheriff's Department. My attorney knew of every move I had made and had made sure I did it legally. I even had my uncle write me a receipt for the dollar.

My attorney told me that Joy had a shit eating grin on her face when she received the check. I'm sure that grin faded quickly when she discovered her secret account had been plundered.

My accountant did some creative accounting and we showed that all of the money in the general account had come from Joy's insurance and my business. I paid all of my taxes on it and was free and clear. Joy never knew she paid my way back through school.

An anonymous tip to the IRS along with some evidence caused Joy to be audited. Yeah I got audited as collateral damage, but I was clean. Joy ended up serving six months for tax evasion, and in a funny twist, well funny to me, had Garrett charged with stealing all of her money. He'd had her bank card so the law, not really looking to acquit a loser like him, didn't do much investigating, and his dime store public defender couldn't do much to make him look innocent in front of his peers.

With the conviction for assaulting Joy, his probation revocation and the larceny charge, Garrett "Jiminy Cricket" Jimenez was ordered to spend the next 35 years in prison. Katrina divorced Cal and the last I heard, he went to Utah to start over. When Joy got out of prison she ended up in a telemarketing firm.

I did receive a nasty letter from her while she was in prison. She accused me of ruining our marriage and screwing her and Garrett over out of jealousy. I threw the letter away and went on with my life. When I told my buddy Paul about the letter, he told me I should have done like the guys in the internet stories and sold her ass to a Mexican whorehouse. I replied that she wouldn't really be punished that way because she'd enjoy it.

I spent my first three years with the Sheriff's department in a patrol car. While the CSPD caught most of the worst cases, like burglary, murder and drug dealers, we had more domestic violence cases. Only time I ever drew my service weapon was to point it at a wife was brandishing a knife at me for arresting her husband after he'd been beating on her. That was a year and six months ago. I've been a detective for just over a year.

To this day I still can't understand why a woman goes back to a man who hits her. I understand it less as I enter the trailer and find a woman who'd obviously been beat to death lying amongst a pile of empty beer bottles. CSI had already lifted all of the prints and taken the photos of the scene.

I knew that by the end of the day I'd have the husband's name and we'd be officially looking for him. In the bedroom with a caved in skull was the woman's boyfriend or lover. This would be easy, either she cheated and hubby had done them, or an old flame took revenge on her and her new beaux. I'd be spending the bulk of the morning going through old patrol reports and talking to officers who'd visited this trailer before.

I knew that catching this case did have one good point; I'd catch less shit from my boss for his losing a detective for an indeterminate amount of time.

I had been on the force for a year and a half when a new detective transferred in. All I had heard from Hugh was that the guy was coming from up north somewhere. One night when I wasn't on duty they had a welcome party at a bar near our sub-station. I was truly shocked to walk in and see Desirae Phillips at the table.

We talked for quite a while that night, I know three or four detectives were upset that a patrol cop had horned in on the new detective, but I guess we had a history. I wasn't hitting on her because I assumed she was married.

We became friends, and even after finding out that she was not married, I still didn't try anything. I had soured on relationships. We'd go to dinner and to see movies. I never considered them dates. I'd always drop her off at her apartment like a gentleman and then go home and peel the chili to internet porn.

One night after she'd wrapped up a particularly bad case I took her to a bar. I stayed mostly sober to insure that she'd be safe. At the end of the night I took her home and walked her into her apartment. I asked if she was good and she asked me to help her take her shoes off.

I helped her remove her boots then prepared to leave. "Oh Zeke, one more thing?"

I turned to see what she wanted and was caught in a powerful embrace. Her lips were on mine and while I enjoyed the hell out of it, my mind was screaming that it was wrong. "She's drunk you fucking idiot! She's vulnerable and she's your fucking best friend not named Paul! She'll end up hating you if you don't stop this now!"

I pulled back and suddenly she didn't seem so drunk. "What's wrong with me Zeke? Why is it that you don't even seem to want to touch me?"

"One; you're drunk. I don't want to part of a drunken memory that ruins our friendship. Two; I just don't know if I am ready to..."

"I know. That dumb whore fucked you over, so now all women are evil. Did you like kissing me?"

"Of course I did. You're one of the hottest..."

I didn't get another word out. She was on me again. When she broke the kiss she said "come with me. I'm not drunk, and I'm not a whore. I have been with four guys my whole life and you know all the stories."

She later confessed to liking me from the first moment she'd first met me in Vail. She'd never dreamed that I'd be on the police force when she transferred, and took that as a sign. She'd just got tired of Vail and it just so happened that two of our detectives had taken jobs in Denver.

That night was the first of many nights we slept together. We were married a year later and are now a month from being parents. My boss hated the fact that she'd need maternity leave and hounded me about knocking her up every chance he got. I usually countered by telling Hugh that Nora could be his god mother but he'd be disowned.

He also isn't too happy that I'll be taking a month of FMLA time to enjoy my son. And as a bonus, Desirae LOVES World War 2 movies. Life is good, and I hope Piper will be OK with sharing her mommy and daddy. Something tells me she will.

FIN