A "Jewel" of a Wifebyimhapless©
With a cold stare I said "Probably to get proof of your infidelity," then quickly exited, without looking back.
The photos of Arlene and her fuck buddy (Jack Traylor was his name) from her second and third Friday nights out were exactly what I had imagined, although the exact location surprised me a little. The P. I. said he might have trouble getting photos useable as evidence of them in the act if they only did it indoors. They were stupid enough to fuck on the deck of, and in, his swimming pool, easily seen from many vantage points where they could not expect privacy.
Also in his report was the fact that they arrived at Traylor's house after dinner on Friday night, and they apparently left in Arlene's car a little before 11:00 p.m. The P I didn't follow them, but they did get back about 2:15 a. m., then she left alone about 3:00 a.m.
I went to Kinko's, made three copies of everything except a DVD, then went to see officer Smithson. I got there about 1:15. He immediately introduced me to detective June Grayson, a robbery detective who was as good looking as the women cops on T. V., one that I didn't think existed in real life. She was not only hot, but smart.
After reviewing my evidence, without me prompting her, Grayson said "Looks like your wife and this Traylor guy were 'out' at the time of your burglary. Your security system computer indicated that all systems were turned off at 11:05 p. m. Just to cover all my bases, where were you then?"
"I was at my sister's house," I nonchalantly replied.
"Can anyone there vouch for that?" she asked.
"I don't think so," I responded, "I think that they were all asleep. But you can ask them." Then I got a "Eureka" look on my face and said "Wait; I think that Bill – my brother-in-law – has security cameras, and at some point I went to my car to get some pills I had forgotten. Maybe that will give you a time line."
"Can we get the tape from your brother-in-law?" Grayson inquired.
I laughed. "I think that Bill is hi-tech. I'll bet it's a DVD," I said as I pulled out my cellphone and dialed Jen's house. Bill answered.
"Say, Bill, do you have security camera tapes from your house for last night?" I laughed again at his response. "Is it possible for you to bring the DVD – sorry to insult you by asking for a tape – to detective Grayson at the local precinct? I'll let her tell you why when you drop it off, I've got to take the kids to the park. Thanks."
I smiled at Grayson and Smithson. "Just as I thought, he's hi-tech and has a DVD. He said that he'd bring it right over. Unless you have something else real important to ask, I've got to go take the kids to the park."
"Thanks, Mr. Weston," Grayson said with a smile and standing up to shake my hand. "We'll let you know in the next few days if we need anything else."
"I'll be around," I said, smiling back and shaking her and Smithson's hands. "I know you that you know what you're doing, but as I told Officer Smithson last night, you need access to Arlene's computer and desk drawers. I'd love it if you got a warrant for those – and my computer and desk too to cover your bases."
Grayson just grinned.
I dropped the original of my evidence, including the only copy of the DVD of Arlene and Traylor screwing, at my lawyer's office – he always works on Saturday. I just told him to put it in his safe for now. I brought the other two copies home. As soon as I got in I put one in my desk and left the other one – without the report of Friday night – on the coffee table in the living room.
I took the kids to the park and Arlene insisted on going with us. She tried to talk to me when the kids were playing but every time that she did I simply ignored her and went over to the kids and pushed them on the swing, started playing tag with them, or doing something similar.
I made dinner that night and asked the kids to help, so that I didn't have to be alone with Arlene. After dinner I played games with them, read them bedtime stories, and finally had to leave them.
When I went downstairs Arlene had the envelope I left on the coffee table in her hands. She was white as a ghost.
"Austen, we really need to talk," she said, her voice crackling.
"Why?" I asked with a dramatic confused look. "Will us talking make you un-fuck Traylor?"
I grabbed my car keys and left as she yelled "You know that this is a no-fault state and I'll get the kids if you divorce me. We can work this out."
My only response was to flip her the bird. When I got back four hours later I went straight to the guest room, propped a chair against the door knob, and went to sleep.
Sunday was probably the most uncomfortable day of my life. It's really hard to ignore someone in the same room with you for several hours, but unless the kids were there I never responded to anything she had to say.
Sunday night, after the kids were in bed, I was watching T. V. when she came up to me with an insurance claim form. "I need you to sign this so that I can fax it to the insurance company to get reimbursement for our stolen property. I looked at it, got a pen and paper and wrote down the fax number and department of the insurance company, then said the only words, without the kids present, I spoke to her all day. "I'm not signing it and if you forge my signature I'll have you arrested for fraud."
As Arlene screamed at me I continued watching T. V. When her noise was too loud I got out the headphones, plugged them into the T. V. and ignored her. She eventually left, crying.
I saw her go to the fax machine and send out the claim form. After she went to bed I wrote a letter faxed to the same address she sent the form.
My letter read: "While at the present time I do not have any definitive proof, I suspect that my wife is responsible for the burglary and loss that she reported to you in a claim form earlier tonight. I am NOT making any claim until the police investigation is complete, and if anyone submits a document with my signature before then you can be sure that it is a forgery. Call me on my cellphone, xxx-xxx-xxxx, if you have questions."
Monday night at dinner detective Grayson and four other cops showed up with a warrant. I had the kids go outside on our deck to finish their meal telling them "The police just want to get your stuff back." They were happy with that, especially since I told them that they could have a soft drink on the deck, something we almost never allowed them to have.
When they found Arlene's desk drawers locked Grayson asked us "Who has a key for this?"
"I have the only one," Arlene nervously replied.
"I need you to open it," Grayson ordered.
"Why?" Arlene asked.
"Because the warrant says we can look in it, and I don't want to ruin your furniture.
Arlene went to her purse, got her keys, and unlocked the drawers. The procedure was repeated for my desk. Arlene was frantic when they took her computer, while I was calm when they took mine. She was hysterical when she saw them pull an envelope from a storage rental facility from her desk.
"What is that?" she screamed. "I've never seen that before."
"I thought that you have the only key," Grayson deadpanned.
"I do – someone must have picked the lock."
"Easy to determine. We'll take the drawer with the lock cylinder with us and have our techs evaluate it," Grayson nonchalantly replied.
Obviously, that was not the response Arlene wanted, but that was what was going to happen.
When the cops left, Arlene was frantic. "Why are they doing that – what does the warrant say?" she agonized.
I handed her the warrant and said "Maybe they think that the theft was an inside job." She looked shocked as I turned and went out on the deck with the kids.
Tuesday was a real bad day for Arlene; her only highlight was driving the kids to school. About 11:00 a. m. she was served at work with divorce papers, citing adultery. At 2:00 p. m., detective Grayson and two other cops arrived to arrest her for theft, and escorted her out of her office in cuffs.
Tuesday morning Detective Grayson had called me to come to a storage facility about ten minutes from our house to identify our stolen property. It took me about thirty seconds to identify it as ours. Then I went through it all and found that except for my Rolex watch and a set of gold cufflinks everything was there.
Detective Grayson called me after the arrest to let me know what happened so that I wouldn't be left wondering and so that I could pick up the kids. Arlene appeared before a magistrate late that afternoon and was granted $50,000 bail. She called me.
"Austen, I'm calling you from jail, please don't hang up," Arlene begged.
"I didn't know that adultery was illegal. Why are you in jail, Arlene?" I sarcastically asked, already knowing the answer.
"They think that I robbed our house, it's ridiculous," she cried.
"I don't think it's ridiculous. Didn't you do it because you were planning on leaving me?" I gleefully asked.
"No, no, that's absurd. We can talk about it later. Can you come down to bail me out? If we both agree to use the house as collateral I can be free in an hour. Please Austen."
"Why don't you call your lover Traylor, I'm sure that he can help," I snipped just before I hung up as she started screaming "No..."
My attorney filed for an emergency protective order on Wednesday morning while Arlene was still in jail. Either she didn't call Traylor or he wouldn't help, I didn't care which it was. My attorney asked the Court for the order of protection saying that Arlene was charged with stealing my property, and that of the children, so she shouldn't be allowed in the house.
The judge won't hear the case until Arlene got out on bail. Apparently she got her parents to post it and on Thursday was freed, with instructions to go straight to the Family Law Court for a hearing on the order of protection.
Arlene's attorney argued that she should have the presumption of innocence on the theft charges and had never physically harmed any family member, or even threatened it. My attorney argued that the two most expensive items of my jewelry were missing and she could be presumed to steal other things. The Judge's ruling sort of split the baby.
"We do have to recognize the presumption of innocence; however Mr. Weston still has a right to feel that his property is secure. Therefore, Mrs. Weston may return to the marital home while the divorce proceedings progress. However, she may not return until Saturday. In the meantime Mr. Weston can have any room of the house locked with a new lock that Mrs. Weston does not have a key to, and she is prohibited from ever entering that room. Notify the Court of the room by Monday. Anything else?"
I prodded my attorney for another stipulation.
"Your honor, my client would like to be sure that Mr. Traylor, the individual with whom Mrs. Weston is having an affair, be precluded from entering the Weston home or have any contact with the Weston children until the divorce proceedings are final," he said.
"I won't bring him there, or with the children," Arlene yelled, jumping up from her chair, perplexing her attorney and the judge.
"Mrs. Weston has agreed that she won't, so that should satisfy you Mr. Weston," the judge said.
I wanted to yell "I can't believe anything that lying cunt says," but fortunately restrained myself.
I had Lowe's put in a new door to the master bedroom and re-enforce the surrounding frame. I also had a sophisticated lock installed in it, one that was almost impossible to pick. I moved all of Arlene's clothes to the guestroom.
Arlene did come home Saturday morning. The kids were glad to see her. I basically ignored her except interacting when necessary for care of the children and so as to upset the children the least possible.
Arlene wanted to talk. I told her "Sunday night after the kids go to bed." We talked in the den with the door closed so if there were raised voices it wouldn't wake the kids.
After sitting in silence for a couple of awkward minutes I said "Arlene, you're the one who wanted to talk – talk!"
"Uh, Austen, I can't help but think that you're behind this theft..." she started out before I cut her off.
"Whoa! The first words I wanted out of your mouth were 'I'm so sorry for cheating on you, Austen, and for hurting you so badly and destroying our marriage.' I guess you don't feel that, though do you?" I said sarcastically.
"Austen, once you calm down we can talk about re-kindling our love, and dismiss this talk of divorce, but first I have to get out of my legal problem."
"Arlene. Let me make this so clear that even someone as egotistical and self-centered as you are can understand. There is no 'talk' of divorce; I'm divorcing you, plain and simple. We're done," I said as forcefully as possible.
"But, Austen..." she started to plead. I again shut her down.
"The only way that this talk will be productive is if you listen to, and accept, my proposal," I said even more forcefully. "Are you ready to listen?"
She nodded her head.
"I will change the grounds of divorce to irreconcilable differences. I will get sole custody of the children but you will have unlimited visitation, alternate major holidays, and two weeks in the summer as long as you do not expose them to any other man – unless you are married to him. Our assets will be split 50-50, you will pay child support for one child, and will pay ½ toward the mortgage on the house. Once Cybil reaches nineteen we will sell the house and split the proceeds. There will be no alimony either way," I said boring a hole through her head with my stare.
"But..." she started again, and I again cut her off.
"I'm not finished. If you agree to this I'll go to the D. A. and beg her to plead you down to a misdemeanor with no jail time, if you plead 'no contest.' That way you'll be able to keep your law license, and your job. Deal?" I concluded.
"But I didn't do anything," she said, crying and wringing her hands. "I know you orchestrated this whole thing to get back at me. I don't want a divorce, but if there is to be one there is no way in hell that I'll agree to you having sole custody," she wailed through her tears.
"So you won't take responsibility for anything, breaking up the marriage or the theft, huh?" I asked, raising my voice as I stood up. "And you're not even the least bit remorseful, are you, like I should be happy to be your cuckold. God, how could I ever have married you in the first place," I moaned.
As she buried her face in her hands I said "Take this deal, Arlene. If you don't you'll be ruined."
As I walked out the door she yelled "But if you'd just listen to me I'd explain everything; you have to listen!"
At least that's what I think that she said, but before she'd finished I'd closed the den door shut and can't be sure.
Two days later when I arrived home the kids weren't there, but sitting in my family room were Arlene and Jack Traylor.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" I screamed at Arlene, "You told the court you wouldn't bring him here.
"Austen, you have to listen to what the two of us have to say. After you listen he'll leave and never see you again," she whined.
"Get the fuck out, Traylor," I bellowed. He stood up with a hybrid nasty and pleading look. He was about three inches bigger and thirty pounds heavier than I was, but the old saying about it's the size of the fight in the dog, not the size of the dog in the fight, is something I believe in. I had never backed down from a confrontation in my life, even though it got me my ass kicked several times, and this was not going to be the first.
Traylor was trying to say something to me as he slowly approached, but I didn't hear what it was because I kept repeating, at the top of my lungs, "Get the fuck out!"
After yelling my refrain a good two dozen times, it was clear that he was not going to comply so I walked toward the phone and picked up the receiver to call 911. He pulled the phone cord out of the wall and in an irritated voice said, "Will you just listen, damn it?"
I pulled out my cell phone and started dialing 911. He grabbed it out of my hand and threw it down on the floor, breaking, as he said "It will only take two minutes and will give you your life back."
I turned to go out the garage door, through the kitchen. He grabbed my suit jacket, but I squirmed out of it and bolted for the garage. Apparently he didn't see me pick up the meat tenderizing mallet from the kitchen counter.
As I turned left and exited the kitchen to a small breezeway to the garage I came to an abrupt halt and turned around. As soon as he made the same left turn into the breezeway I hit him in the forehead with the mallet, sending him reeling backward against the kitchen sink. As he was screaming and holding his hands up to his head in an attempt to stop the bleeding I kicked him once in the balls with everything I had.
By now, Arlene was in the kitchen sobbing. I saw her purse on the kitchen table, pulled her cell phone out of it and dialed 911. "My emergency is that an uninvited interloper attacked me in my own home and I hit him in the forehead with a mallet. He needs an ambulance and I need the police to arrest him."
I opened the front door and calmly sat at the kitchen table as Arlene attended to Traylor. The paramedics impressed me – they were there in less than five minutes. The police were only a minute behind them.
Traylor was taken away restrained in an ambulance. The police believed my story. I asked them to take my broken cellphone with them to check it for fingerprints to confirm my story, and the phone line if they needed it. Also, my suit jacket had been ripped in the process and I asked them to take that for evidence, too.
All that Arlene could tell the police – something she repeated over and over through her tears – was "We just wanted to talk to him."
The next day my attorney was in court again. The judge was pissed and ordered Arlene to vacate the house within two days and to pay for changing the locks. Visitation with her kids would have to wait until after the divorce proceedings were concluded. The judge continued the divorce until the criminal case against Arlene was finalized.
I talked detective Grayson into getting a search warrant for Traylor's car and house, and Arlene's car. In Traylor's car they found my gold cufflinks and in Arlene's trunk they found a present with "Jack" and a heart on a tag. Inside the present was my Rolex watch.
Traylor was arrested for theft too in view of the cufflinks, and because when fingerprint results from my house came back the only fingerprints on the basement window with which the thief gained access to my house were his.
Arlene didn't follow my advice and accept my proposal, but fought the criminal case. Apparently she believed – rightly so as it turned out – that the only way that she could get custody of the kids was to win the criminal trial.
The prosecution had a great case. A woman with a gaudy emerald ring and blond hair (both just like Arlene's) rented the storage facility that the stolen property was found shortly after Arlene's first "team building exercise." Only Arlene's prints were found on the lock at the storage facility. That, along with the evidence earlier discussed, made a nice prima facie case for the prosecution.
Arlene and Traylor took the stand in their defense. Arlene admitted to four sexual encounters with Traylor but maintained that she never left his house until 3:00 a. m. the last Friday so that the P. I.'s testimony was fabricated. She maintained that I must have stolen the stuff and set her up. She couldn't explain how I could do that since she admitted that she didn't think that I had a key to the safe or her desk drawer, and her keys were always in her possession. She explained the storage facility rental as a case of mistaken identity. She said her fingerprints were planted on the lock.