Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual,
Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Come and meet William Wilkerson, Retired Navy SEAL home from the War on Terror finding a whole new war on the home front. It wasn't meant to be this way, but it is and now he is left to put his life back together.
It's been a three-day drunk that I have stretched into eleven. Saying that life can't get much worse doesn't do justice to all the booze I have dedicated to this pursuit of forgetting. I was smart enough to lock the guns away before I went on my tear so it's only the building and furnishings that are in various states of rubble. I am past the cottonmouth and hangover stage this morning, since I am having the tail of the dog that bit me. That means that day eleven is going to run into day twelve.
I'm a bit ripe to the point where I can smell it. I could decide to head off for a shower; but then I'm wasting good drinking time not to mention counteracting the benefits of the serious drinking I have been doing. Which as side benefit we all know is to keep others the hell away.
I have gone past the shock and awe stage, gotten mostly over the basic pissed and how could they have stage and now have played all the ifa, woulda, coulda shit the last three days. Don't matter none, it all would have ended in the same pile of shit that it turned out to be.
I burned her letter after I read it. What the hell was I supposed to do? She told me she was running off with my brother and a few other choice words along the way. I knew that if I wanted to find them, I could. Take a pound or more of flesh from each of them for this. But what the hell would that accomplish and to tell the truth, if my brother thought that taking my cheating wife would do him any good, he damn well needed to have her. I'll just lay my head down here on the table for a minute.
What the hell, someone just grabbed me and is frog stepping me to the bathroom. That was the last I remembered until I woke up in the shower, my old man sitting on the shitter staring at me. Hell, my head hurt and it wasn't from the hangover.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well hello Son, feeling any better?"
"Who the hell put me in here and turned on the water?"
"Must have been some damn fairies, lifted you right out of your chair and dropped you in the shower," he laughed as he took a drink of what I knew was my beer and then a drag on his cigar.
"Get me the hell out of here," I spat back.
"Once you figure a way to use that soap, we can talk about it."
"I'm in my clothes, what the hell good will soap do?"
"Given that you haven't changed them since you started out on this bender, they need washing too," He took another drink and puffed on his cigar some more.
That is the way the old man operated. He'd stay out of your personal issues until he figured you were so screwed up you couldn't see up any longer, and then he would use the direct approach to helping you back on the right course. It didn't matter if you didn't want his help. Once he decided your time to work through this was done, there he was Johnny on the spot.
If he needed to kick your ass into an umbrella to help you with the sun stroke you were now experiencing, he was more than happy to make that happen too. Of course he would always point to another who was the reason for his concern and intervention. That was usually my mother, although he was known to use my grandparents in a pinch.
I decided the washing machine was a much better way to wash the clothes and stripped them off, leaving them in the bottom of the shower. Nature called and I didn't feel like getting out so I took a piss in the shower. What the hell, I was the one who would be cleaning it up. Of course that didn't sit well with him, and he let me know.
"You're a damn pig."
"Well I would have used the toilet but there was a turd sitting on it."
He didn't say anything and I had turned away when he reached in and turned off the hot water, holding his hand on the control.
I decided that I wasn't going to stay there when the hot water was gone, but he decided otherwise and knocked my ass right down so I sprawled there on the tub floor. That was the last I remembered until I came to with my head throbbing and me freezing, since he hadn't turned the cold water off. I had blood in my eye now, was naked, still hung over, and pissed off as I headed on my search and destroy mission. A bit wobbly as I did make my way but what the hell.
I made it downstairs and he was watching the tube, beer in his hand and smoking that cigar again. I stomped over to lay him out. He just stood up and I woke up laid out on the floor. Damn, he hit like a ton of bricks.
"Welcome back sweetie. Looking for another trip to lala land anytime soon?" He blew me a kiss.
I remember that I made it up off the floor before he hit me again. I was still lying naked on the floor when I came around again.
"Why the hell do you keep hitting me?"
"You're dumb enough to get up and I ain't stupid enough to let you."
"You gonna hit me again if I get up?"
"Try it and see," damn asshole just smiled at me.
This time I didn't go near him but went to find something to wear instead. "You won't find anything in that room to equalize the situation we have going here."
He knew damn well I would have, and so he took and cleared it of most anything I could use while I was taking his induced naps. So I got dressed and went to get something to drink. The damn bastard had emptied every bottle and can in the sink and left them there for me to see. I opened the fridge and I saw a bag of groceries that Mom had no doubt made him bring along. But there was not one damn can of beer in there.
"I put all the others in my trunk from the other fridge, so don't bother to go looking in the garage. Have something to eat; it will make your mother happy." He was standing at the door looking in from the living room.
"You're a damn bastard for doing that."
He laughed and then asked. "What does that make you?"
"A son of a bitch," I replied, opening the bag and taking out a sandwich.
"I don't care to hear you call your mother and my wife that."
"You finished wanting to drink your troubles away?"
"If you're going to keep hitting me, I damn well am," I rubbed my jaw before I took another bite from my sandwich. I had liberated for the bag Mom sent.
"Your brother is a fucking idiot."
"I see we agree on something."
"That bitch ain't much better."
"I won't argue with you there."
"Your mother won't tell me where they are." he was angry but when Mom set her mind up on something she was every bit the match for him.
"She's thinking you would kill them I bet," I said before I took another bite and chewed on it.
"They are higher up on my list than you are," he shot back.
"Why the hell am I on the list?"
"Cause you have shit for brains and figured crawling into a bottle was going to solve this."
"Started off as the right idea at the time," I took another bite.
"You're going to have to apologize to your mother."
"What did I do?"
"You had a few choice words that she won't repeat for your sake when she called."
"I don't remember talking to her."
"Oh, that is not going to get you out of apologizing to her."
"I know, sorry."
"You would be sorry if she told me, but I figure we're about even, even if she won't tell me."
"So what do I do now?"
"Don't have that all figured out after the eleven days of drinking?" He took the last drink from his beer and tossed the can in the sink with the others.
"I need to clean up this place."
"You know that you're a pain in the ass when you want to be."
"All part of the parenting responsibilities," he laughed for a bit. "You mother thinks I should bring you back with me," He gave me the look that was not the look I got from mom but the look all the same.
"I think that I need to clean this place first. You're not going anywhere soon, are you?"
"You're crimping my style as I wanted to head off in the RV next week but that ain't happening until this shit is worked out. She is convinced once you're not drinking, you're going to work on being an only child."
"The thought has crossed my mind. But there would be hell to pay if she ended up having to see me only on visiting days."
"Not only for you."
"So when did the two of them skip out?"
"They didn't call and tell me, but it's likely your mother knows."
"You have any idea what else she knows?"
He didn't say a word, but he looked down at the floor. Mom had told him something, and he was the one to bear the news. Ain't it great being married, yeah right?
"So you're obviously here to tell me something, just spit it right out. I probably know what it is already anyways."
"What do you think it is?"
"Well, she's knocked up right?"
"How do you know that?"
"Them not showing up at the airport to meet me when I got off the plane was a good indicator that they didn't want me to see her condition. How far along is she?"
"Six or seven months"
"That son of a bitch."
"I told you I didn't hold with you calling your mother..."
"What would you call your brother if he knocked up your wife?"
"One dead son of a bitch," He looked at me, and I thought I could see a curl on his lips towards a smile.
"And I am not to follow in your footsteps because?"
"That is our grandchild she is carrying, and we would like him or her to have a daddy."
"You're playing favorites here and I can tell you, I don't like it one damn bit."
"I didn't say you had to like it, just do nothing about it is all."
"That doing nothing is what I was doing until you showed up today."
"No, you were wallowing in poor me and now both these damn violins are playing in stereo, 'My heart bleeds for you'," he held up his hands and rubbed his fore fingers and his thumbs together and sang that song I had heard all my life, whenever I thought life had kicked my ass.
"You're an asshole."
"Got one, same as you," he chuckled.
"All right, let me clean up, and I will be over to see the two of you in a while."
"Don't need to ask but your mother will want to know. You finished drinking your problems away?"
"I'll be over later. Tell her I won't drink anymore today."
He came over and hugged me before he left out the door. The damn place was a wreck; hard drinking and a 'couldn't care less' attitude will do that. I cleaned up for a few hours, ate some more of the food mom sent over, and took another shower before I headed over for dinner.
It smelled damn good when I opened the door and Mom came over and hugged me. "I was worried about you."
"I know Mom, sorry for what I said."
"Do you even remember what you said?"
She had me there and I smiled at her. She winked and gave me a nod and headed back to the stove to work on the gravy I knew she was making to go with the pot roast I smelled. It was my favorite meal, and she knew it.
Dad came into the kitchen then. No cigar going as Mom ruled with an iron fist in her domain, and it was a no smoking domain. I saw Dad head over to the fridge to get a beer and the eye sought him out. I had had enough in her opinion and Dad was not going to be allowed to drink in front of me.
We started dinner and it was quiet, mostly confined to the sound of silverware hitting the plate. Mom finally had enough of it and asked. "Don't you have any questions?"
"Nope, damn near drank them all away."
Dad just sat back, knowing that this was Mom's place to ask, and she would be doing it as she pleased.
She ignored my swearing in the house and asked instead. "So you're not going to hurt them?"
"I didn't say that, just don't have a need to know the hows and whys."
She looked over at Dad and back at me. "I don't want you to hurt them or the baby."
There it was out on the table. Sides were taken and how I responded to it would likely dictate where I ended up in this train wreck.
"You have any idea what I just finished doing in the service for the last twenty years Mom?"
"You were in the Navy."
"I was a Navy SEAL, Mom. Sniper qualified. I can put a round into someone at a thousand yards. They die before they ever hear the sound from the bullet being fired." She gave a loud gasp then and looked over at my Dad.
"I didn't know that. You have done that?"
"Many more times than I would like to remember, especially in the last eight years."
"You're not going to do that to Buddy and..." I didn't let her finish. Buddy was her pet name for my brother.
"I could do it as easy as I am sitting here if I had a mind to do that. I don't, but if you think I am going to lay down and let them piss all over me, you're sadly mistaken." I continued to eat my dinner, knowing it was likely the last time for a long time I would be invited over for one, if ever again.
"But they only did it when you were..."She stopped and covered her mouth and looked over at Dad.
I put my fork down and looked at her and then at him. "They only did it when I was overseas? Which means they have been doing it for more than just this last time I was gone?"
She couldn't say anything but her eyes told me and then her head went down. I looked over a Dad, and he couldn't look me in the eye either.
"I think I'll skip dessert," and I got up and left.
I was damn pissed but saying anything more to them wasn't going to do anything to make the situation any better. Buddy and my slut of a wife had been hanging horns on me for years and my folks knew and hadn't said a word. They likely were worried at what I would do to Mom's precocious Buddy and kept me in the dark. This one was not going to be solved in a bottle.
I searched the house for anything that had images of Buddy or her in it. They were dead to me at this point, and I was not going to have a damn thing in my house that reminded me of them. I put it all in a few boxes and put it in the garage. I would toss it out with the trash next week.
As I did it, I fumed all the more. It was me against all of them at this point. My parents wanted their precious grandchild and would turn a blind eye to any transgression that Mom's dear Buddy had done. Dad may not like it, but he damn well knew where his bread was buttered and who did that. That I was done with the other two was a certainty.
But for now I had to plan. No mission was ever completed successfully without proper planning. Put your life in danger and you learn to plan every detail. So once everything was done, I started to look at the damage done and what my recourse was.
I was still up to greet the sun the next morning when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Cal there looking at me, a box of doughnuts in his hand. Cal was the soon to be ex's father; her mom had died before we married. He was a nice enough guy and had kept his nose out of our lives. I figured he was the one the folks had sent after last night's little revelation.
"Hey Son." He had called me that the day we had told him of our intentions to marry. She was an only child, and he gained a son. I liked him a lot and had done many things with him from fishing to hunting over the years.
"I take it, you're the one designated to come and smooth the waters over today?"
"After what your Dad told me, that they let it out of the bag, I doubt there is any smooth sailing any time soon."
"You're damn right about that. Want a cup of coffee?"
"Yes, and no. Before you ask, I didn't know for a fact, and I wouldn't have held it back from you if I knew for certain."
"You thought they might."
"Thinking and knowing are two very different items. I didn't know until she showed up with her belly showing. But you were overseas and what good would it have done for me to tell you then. Likely got you killed was all."
Cal had fought in Nam, but he didn't seem that old to me. He took good care of himself, and I respected the hell out of him for his service to his country. We had talked about his and my experiences over the years.
"You're right; it would have had me losing focus. I can't blame you for not telling me if you didn't know."
"You scared your mother now that she knows what you did." Cal was not one to let anything sit and fester, which was another reason for me to respect him.
"I don't plan on doing anything physical to any of them." I took a big gulp of the coffee and reached over to open the box. I have a real weakness for jelly doughnuts and Cal knew it. He was a chocolate cake, chocolate frosted guy. There were nine for me and three for him; he was concerned as it was always an even split every other time we had shared a box.
"I am not foolish enough to sit here and think you're not angry with all of them. And I make no excuses for any of their actions," he took his drink then.
"Thanks, it's apparent I wasn't being told for whatever reason."
"I think we both know the reason. Buddy is momma's baby."
"Damn right about that, but I never expected they would help him hang horns on me. Just isn't right."
"I understand. I doubt your father had much to say about it. She has him pussy whipped even if he doesn't show it when she isn't around."
"Yep," I took the last of the doughnut I had been eating, popped it into my mouth and drank again. Then I reached over and got another one then.
"So you're not going to hurt them?"
"Nothing physical. I earned this retirement and don't plan to be spending it incarcerated."
He didn't ask anymore about it. I was certain that he knew I would find a lawyer and do what was necessary. So we shot the shit the rest of the morning. I think Cal would have liked to go back and have exchanged the box back to even.
We were well into killing the second pot of coffee when he asked if I had started looking at all of my assets. Now I knew he knew something more. In all of our years together, he never spoke about money.
"Out with it." I took another drink.
"Have you looked at all the bank accounts, stock market accounts, CDs?"
"Not yet. But something has your attention."
"I have known more than a few people who have gotten divorced. One spouse or the other usually cleans them out."
"And you're figuring that..." He held up his hand.
"I ain't figuring anything. I am just saying from experience, you need to investigate."
"Okay, you can report that I am not going to kill any of them."
"I told them that already. But I wanted to come over and see you, anyways. Would have been here before but heard you were on a bender. Understandable, but didn't want to get into anything physical with you about it when you were."
"I was pissed enough and drunk enough."
"Oh, I am sure you were. I think they loaded up the house with booze before you came home, thinking it would give them additional time to get away."
"It worked." I took another drink and then got up to hit the head.
I sat back down and Cal went and came back. I had killed all the jelly doughnuts. Cal sat back down then.
"So you need to take stock and find an attorney. Just remember, that is my grandchild, and I would appreciate it if the child had a chance at a good life, no matter the lowlifes its parents are."
"Let me look at what is what, and I will determine if I go scorched earth or not. No promises but I understand."
"I can't ask for more than that. If they were idiots in what they did, then there is nothing I would want to do to stop you." He got up and I stood also. He took a hold of me and said, "You didn't deserve this load of shit they brought for you to eat. For what it is worth, I am sorry it had to be this way. I am always here for you." There were tears in his eyes as he turned and left.
I took his advice and went over and got on the Internet and started looking at the accounts. The bank had a couple of thousand dollars and all the CDs were gone. I couldn't access the Kemper and Fidelity accounts and my calls told me that both had been closed. I was damn pissed and when I looked through the mail, I found a mortgage bill. I would have killed them if I had seen them. I owned that house free and clear and it was in my name only. Our grandparents on my Dad's side had died and left Buddy and me each a pretty fair chunk of change. I took mine and bought the house. He likely pissed his away. I had never gotten to the point of adding her to the title so there was no way a mortgage could have existed. I would have remembered signing for one.
I picked up the phone and called Cal. After he said hello I said two words. "Scorched Earth."
He replied, "God Damn Idiots," and hung up.
I knew he would tell my folks, and he wasn't likely to sugar coat one word of it. I went and took a shower and headed out to the bank. I might as well change over the account. It would be hell with them paying my retirement but there was no way I would let them get anything more than they already had.
I got on the phone then and started calling all the other institutions including the mortgagee. At least the account was current, so I had some time to work on this before the house would go into foreclosure. Given the mortgage payment was 85% of my retirement pay, there was no way I would be able to keep it now.
The only bright spots were they hadn't run up my only credit card, and I still had my truck in the garage which was paid for. Other than that, I was thoroughly FUBARed.
I ate a quiet dinner thinking about all that they had done. It wasn't pretty, anyway I turned it, and I just didn't have a plan yet to deal with it. I knew that I would need an attorney for the divorce. And I needed one to sort out the mortgage dealings, plus I was going to sue that asshole brother of mine for alienation of affection and any other damn thing I could think of. If my parents got in the way, I would add them to the suit.
There were only a few problems with all of this. I didn't know any attorneys, divorce or otherwise. I had a huge mortgage payment due in two weeks and not enough money to pay it for any extended period of time. And the two of them were gone like a fart in the wind now. But other than that, everything was fine.
I went to the county seat the next morning and got all the information I could from the public records about the house. There, clear as day, was what almost looked like my signature on the document. Of course it wasn't mine, but I had the first piece. I decided that I might want to ask the District Attorney about the possibility of them prosecuting. They forged documents for $450,000 and the house was still titled in only my name. Plus having the police find them was going to be less costly than me paying for it.
I traipsed over to the DA's office and explained the issue to the woman at the counter; I was told to have a seat and the Assistant District Attorney on call for the day would be out in a few minutes. Matt Sullivan came out and shook my hand. He took me back to a conference room, and I told him my story of woe. He informed me much of it was civil, and that I would have to sue for that.
But he was interested in the fraud. He asked if I had signed a power of attorney before I had left for overseas, and I told him that I had not. She had wanted to press me for one, but we had a will and everything was paid for so there wasn't any real need. I remember now that she was pissed off about that but just let it go.
The ADA had seen many of these over the past years and mine was one that was clean cut as far as it went. If everything I had told him panned out, Matt said that I had a great civil case against the notary and the mortgage broker. When I told him that I didn't know any attorneys other than him, he excused himself, got up and left the room, returning with a post-it. There were the names of two attorneys on it. The top one was the nastiest divorce attorney he knew of in the county. Seems the DA had a falling-out with his wife and this attorney had cleaned his clock. She was persona non grata with the DA but a fine person anyway he assured me.
The other one was known to be a square shooter and well respected. Matt asked that I not tell them where I got their names. We were parting when he told me either an investigator or police detective would be around to seem me for more information in the next couple of days. Well, step one of the plans was started now.
I decide to head over to see Pamela C. Smith, Esq., and see if I could engage her to handle my divorce. She would want a retainer and in my current financial situation, I wasn't in very good shape to do that. But what the hell, she came highly recommended.
I walked into the address Matt had given me and found a door with her name on it. I entered the reception office, and it was small. There was a door behind the receptionist which I figured was her office.
"Hello, is Ms Smith in?" I asked.
"Yes, she is. Do you have an appointment?"
"No, I am afraid not. But I need to speak to an attorney."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I am William Wilkerson."
"Well Mr. Wilkerson, if you will wait for one minute, I will see if she can see you."
"It's Willy, not Mr. Wilkerson," They had hung the Willy name on me at Coronado during Hell Week, and it stuck the rest of my career. So much so I just adopted it.
"Yes, Mr. Wilkerson."
"She opened the door and left it open and then came back and said "Ms Smith will see you now."
"I got up and entered the room and there was the receptionist sitting behind a desk."
"Uh, I don't understand." I looked around and there were all the sheepskins hanging on the wall with Pamela J Smith on them.
She stood up than and said. "I am Ms. Smith. Pamela to my clients and friends, and I take it, you are William Wilkerson?"
"Pamela, I'm Willy and I hope to be a client and a friend." I closed the door, got our formal handshake out of the way, and I waited for her to sit down before I did.
The next three hours were my tale of woe. She told me about some of hers since her encounter with the DA. He was making her life difficult at the moment, but it would pass once he got over it. I didn't tell her who referred me to her, but it turns out she had dated Matt Sullivan before. It was professional suicide for him to continue doing that and stay at the DA's office. They weren't going to ever be that serious, so they parted as friends. I would guess with benefits if I interpreted her body language right.
Since it was almost two when we were done, I offered to take us to lunch. She wanted to beg off, but I hoped it was my charm that got her to go. Likely, she was just hungry and with her struggling to make ends meet now, a free lunch wasn't all that bad of a deal. We spent another two hours at lunch and when I walked her back to the office, she agreed to take my case. I ran a grand on the Visa and it cleared. Then I signed all the necessary documents to establish an attorney-client relationship.
Since I was on a roll, I went looking for the next attorney and found Charles Vincent's office a few minutes later. I walked into his office after my brief encounter with his receptionist Mary Jo. Charles was eighty if he was a day in my book, and I shook his hand. For a man that age, he had a firm grip. His mind seemed to have even a firmer grip and when I finished telling him everything, he explained it all in legal terms.
He said it was an open-and-shut case. I could prove I was overseas and there was no way I could have signed any documents. There was no power of attorney and with the house as my sole and separate property before the marriage, getting the transaction reversed would happen. Now the problem was the wheels of justice ground slowly, and it could take up to a year. That would mean that I would need to pay the mortgage for all of that time and could I do that with it being so much of my retirement.
He was honest and I liked that. So I got out the Visa and added another fifteen hundred to the tally and then signed the paperwork to start another attorney-client relationship. I left promising to bring all the documents I could find to his office tomorrow so he could start.
I stopped and got some pizza on the way home. It doesn't matter where you're from but the pizza you grew up with is always the best pizza in the world. In my case, it was a double sausage pizza from Connie's pizza. I had eaten it since I was a kid, and it was the best.
I had forgotten there wasn't any beer at the house, and I hated Pepsi which was the only soda there. So I ended up just drinking a glass of water, but even that could not spoil the taste of that pizza in my mind. It was one of the things I would dream about when I was on a mission, and I had a chance to catnap for a few minutes.
I woke up and looked at the alarm. It was 8:00 and someone was pounding on the door. I got up, tossed on some pants, and headed down there. I could see that it was Cal, and he had another box of doughnuts under his arm.
"Morning," he said as he walked in through the door.
"Morning, what are you doing here?"
"Came over for your coffee; my pot is broke."
"We bought you a single-cup maker a couple of years ago for Christmas as I remember."
"Shut up and make the coffee while I get the doughnuts ready."
"All that you need to do that is open the box."
"So I got the easy job." He saw the last couple of pieces of pizza out on the table from last night and picked up a piece and started eating it.
"Hey, that's my breakfast."
He finished the bite he was chewing and swallowed it. "I got you doughnuts and saved you the other one." Then he took another bite.
I got the other piece after I finished the coffee makings. He looked like he was eyeing it and there was not a chance in hell I was going to give him the opportunity to snag it.
"So what do I owe the pleasure of the doughnuts to?"
"They're assholes." He had gotten his cup filled and had a doughnut in his hand. He took a bite then and drank some of the coffee.
"Who now?" I got up and got my cup and then grabbed a jelly one.
"Your folks. I figured that you were about cleaned out by those two and they just decided it wasn't their business."
"Yep, assholes; can't choose your parents." I took a bite and drank. Damn, nectar of the gods.
Cal reached inside his jacket and took out a check. I looked at him and he said. "Take it."
"I know they cleaned you out so you couldn't fight them. No one else is going to help you with this, so I want you to take it."
"She is your daughter."
"She is a goddamn slut who has fucked up her life beyond all belief. Now, you're more of the son I want than her as my daughter."
"I can't take your money."
"You will God Damn Well take it if I have to beat your ass to do it."
I picked up the check, and it was for twenty five thousand dollars. "Cal, I can't take all of this from you. I know you don't have all that much. Come on."
"Don't you dare insult me and not take that. I will do what I Damn Well please with my money. Now you take that and don't you say one Damn Word more about it," Cal was near to having tears rolling down his face when he got up to refresh his coffee.
I didn't say a word but just folded the check and then put it in my wallet.
"Thanks Dad." I said as I walked up and gave him a hug. He had to be dying inside, and I knew it. I wasn't feeling that great even with what I had started. It damn well hurt and knowing that my parents had chosen sides against me, made it even worse.
"You're not leaving here until you eat all of those god-awful cake doughnuts." I laughed and he did too.
So I told him everything I had done the previous day. He sat there half the time with his mouth open. He had no idea of what the actual extent of the damages was. All told, it looked like close to a million once I had all the statements together.
They had left me screwed and tattooed with all they took and the mortgage. I told him the DA would be sending the police to see him and my folks looking for the two of them. He shook his head and laughed. He didn't know where they were, but he would bet a dollar to a doughnut my mother did. This was not going to be pretty if that was the case. But what the hell, it wasn't my fault, and they would just have to pay the piper.
We finished that box about an hour later, and half of the second pot of coffee. Cal had some things planned for the rest of the day but wanted to go out to dinner. I needed to gather all the documents I could and get them to the right attorney. So we made plans for an Italian feast at seven.
I spent the day on the phone and the computer and delivered everything Pamela and Charles needed to their offices around three. I stopped in to deposit the check in the bank and got a cashier's check for another $2,500 for Pamela. I knew she was struggling, and I wanted her focused on the case and not the wolf at the door. She was hesitant to take it until I explained the situation with Cal., She acquiesced and thanked me saying it was very much welcomed. I told her that it came with a price tag of dinner this coming Friday night, and she asked if it could be Saturday instead. I agreed and we discussed where we would meet.
I told Charles about my new money, and he said it was a good thing because they couldn't starve me out now. I asked if he needed any additional retainer and was told in no uncertain terms that what he had was fine. He thanked me for the documents, and I was off before five.
Rush-hour traffic sucks no matter if it is the city or the suburbs. So I didn't get home until almost 6:30. Luckily, the restaurant was close by so I was there by seven.
Cal and I mostly told each other lies about our past military adventures, most of them the lies we had been telling each other over the years. It was a good time, and I was thankful to have his continued friendship. We stopped in the bar and had a couple of more drinks, and we were not feeling much pain. I thought about either him or I driving home and decided that a cab was a much better idea. He could sleep in the guest room tonight and then we would come back in the morning. He didn't like the idea initially but when he had a hard time remembering where he parked his car, he turned to me and shrugged his shoulders.
That man snores and can damn near for certain wake up the dead. I was dead until about 5:30, and he woke me up. There wasn't much to be done about it, so I grabbed a shower and headed down for some coffee. I did just that and was sitting out on the back porch when he came out with a cup and sat down.
There wasn't much I could tell him about this any more, and I knew he was hurting as much as I was. So we just sat there for a while finishing the pot together. I called a cab around 8:00, and we went back and got our respective vehicles. I reminded him the investigator from the DA's office would be around today. He just nodded his head and gave me a hug and left.
The investigator turned out to be two detectives sitting in my driveway when I rolled back to the house. I got out and went over to their car. They had gotten out and I met detectives MacAvoy and Calis. MacAvoy was an older man close to retirement I would guess from the lines on his face. Callis was a blond woman with stabbing blue eyes. I was in lust but kept it in check for now.
I invited them inside and put another pot of coffee on. We got down to the business at hand, and I gave them a set of all the paperwork, I had and the name of the person at the mortgage company I had been dealing with. I figured that they would find all the paperwork about the loan and the documents from there.
Detective Cialis, call me Jill, asked about the lack of furnishings, and MacAvoy, call me Robert, laughed. She looked at him and then back at me. "Excuse her for her lack of knowledge, but she's single and doesn't understand. How many days was your bender?"
"Eleven going on twelve before I stopped."
Robert laughed and looked at Jill. "I am surprised, we have the table here and the chairs."
Jill looked at me again. "They stocked the house with cases of my favorite beverage of choice before they left."
"Ah, to aid in their escape plans?" No doubt the light bulb had gone off in her head.
"I guess, but I did manage to drink most of it in those eleven days."
"Do you have anything else that would help us?"
"Well, I have a few of boxes of stuff I was going to toss out in the garage you're welcome to." I went out and got them and brought them back inside. Most of it was no help, but they found some paperwork that might be and took it out.
Jill pushed the boxes back towards me then. "Okay, we have what we need from there, I think." She said.
"Well they're going in the trash, as soon as I have room for it unless you want to drop it off for me."
"Who would you want us to drop it off to?" Robert asked.
"Well, my folks, who I assume you're going to be seeing soon. They have chosen sides at this point, and they might want some of this shit. Pardon my French," I said.
"Matt told us what was happening when we discussed this. That's a pile, them doing that but there is no accounting for people. But you're right; we are going over there. You're certain you want us dropping this off?" He raised and eyebrow.
"I'm pretty certain I had my last meal with them the other night." I went on to explain what had transpired with them.
"Damn, that's cold." Jill said.
"I got the short end and a truckload of shit with it."
"No doubt," she replied.
"You're having us deliver this, sends a message. Are you sure you want to do that?" Robert asked.
"You think me going after those two for fraud is going to make it any worse than me sending this with you?"
Robert laughed at that and Jill smirked. "They are going to go ape shit about you wanting to lock them up."
"So the boxes aren't really going to matter then in the long run."
"I would have to agree with you there," Robert added.
"And I assume you're going to head over and see her father Cal."
"He is on the list." Robert said.
"He's hurting over this as much as I am. We were at dinner last night and took a cab home after having too much to drink. That was where I was returning from before. He and I had left our vehicles at the restaurant parking lot last night."
"Smart move, no need for either of you getting a DUI with all of this happening," Jill said.
"Exactly, things are tight enough as it is without all the added expense and aggravation."
"I have to ask, you really have all the firepower you have permits for in the house?" Robert asked.
"Yes, all the weapons are still here. I have them locked away in the gun safe if you would like to see them."
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, but it's not a requirement if you would rather not."
"Just as long as you're friends looking and not cops, I'm fine with it." I got a nod from Robert and one from Jill.
We went to the locker, and I pulled the guns and rifles out. "You could start a small war here." Jill said.
"No doubt Matt told you I was a retired SEAL. These were my tools of the trade with a few others that they won't let me have out on the streets here."
"Oh, I would think a couple of them which look to be full auto aren't quite legal, but I didn't look close enough to notice did you Detective Calias?"
"I am afraid I didn't Detective MacAvoy."
"Just make sure they stay locked up for the duration, is all I ask," Robert said.
"If I were going to, I would have already. I spent twenty years working for this retirement. I have no intention of spending it anywhere that would be behind bars."
"That's good to know." Robert said.
"You really spent eleven days drinking?" Jill asked.
"And you didn't think about using any of this on them?"
"Think about? I made the shot more times than you can count. Actually got to the point where I could have opened the safe. Couldn't do it; not the child's fault the parents are lowlifes."
I locked everything back in the safe, and we went back to the kitchen. I shook their hands and we each managed a box to take along. I was parked behind them, so they opened the trunk, and we put the boxes in. They got in the car, and I went and moved my truck and let them leave. I was certain the fireworks were going to be going off before the day was over.
I called a couple of locksmiths and found one that had a good price and had the locks all changed. I went up to the gun locker and found the paperwork to reset that combination. I didn't think that having an alarm added to the house was worth the money, as I doubted that if anyone wanted to get in and out of the house, the police would be there before they had gone.
I was in sore need of some food in the house and the laundry was piling up. So I went and did the domestic duties that afternoon. I wasn't too surprised when I found Dad's car sitting in the drive when I got back with the groceries. He was leaning up against the car puffing away on his cigar. No doubt wondering why his key didn't work to let him inside.
I got out and grabbed the couple of bags of groceries and started to walk to the house with them.
When I got close enough he said. "My key don't seem to open the door any longer."
"I changed all the locks."
"You gonna give me a key?"
"I think not," I opened the door and put the groceries on the table.
He followed me in the house and closed the door.
"Your mother wasn't happy the police showing up at the house."
"Not my problem."
"They were asking where Buddy was, gave us three boxes of your things also."
"Not my things. I was tossing them out. Thought you might want them. Toss them if you don't," I started to put the things away.
"They wouldn't tell us why they wanted them. Something about it being a police matter."
"Are you, going to tell me about it?"
"None of your business," I finished with the cold stuff and then put the rest in the cabinets.
"What the hell has gotten into you?"
I turned around and looked him right in the eye. "I am not here to tell you anything. You damn well let them hang horns on me for years. You didn't say a damn thing about it to me. It was obvious at dinner the other night where you're hanging your hat on this. I don't owe you any explanations for what I am doing. But I will tell you to stay as far away from all of it as you can."
"You said you weren't going to hurt them."
"I said I wasn't going to hurt them. What the authorities do to them is not me hurting them!"
"So you're not going to tell me."
"It's all public record what they did. I am not saying anything more." I tossed him a bone and knowing the old man like I did, he was certain to go and look into it.
We said our goodbyes and he went off to report to Mom like the good trooper he was, but it was far from over for him. I wondered what it would be like to be in that house when he figured out what they had done with my house. He might be pussy whipped, but if he got his tit in a wringer about something, he damn well made his point about it.
The next few days were quiet, and I started the repairs to various walls and doors where holes had magically appeared over the eleven days of heaven, as I now referred to it in my mind. I hadn't seen Cal during that time and figured it was my turn to buy a dozen, so I headed out one morning and did just that. I packed up my coffee maker and brought it along as I knew he had only that one cup maker and that would just not cut it.
I pulled into the drive way and brought up everything with me and knocked on the door. Cal met me with a cup in his hand and opened the door.
"Morning." I said.
"About damn time you returned the favor."
"Hey, I'm slow, so shoot me."
We ate the doughnuts, drank our coffee and shot the shit about what was happening. We decided it was time we went out and killed some fish and worked about setting the date to do it. All in all, it was a pleasant morning. I got back to the house and there were three messages waiting for me. One was from Matt, the next from Pamela, and the last from Charles.
I called Matt first and got the low down from him. The two of them were on the road somewhere was all he knew, but the evidence was rock solid. The mortgage had been taken out while I was deployed and there was no way I could have signed the paperwork for it. The DoD had given them a copy of my orders that showed me in a war zone. The signatures were close but they didn't match the ones I had provided on a number of documents. And finally, the notary didn't recall if I was actually there when I signed the documents.
I asked him for a copy of those notes as it would help Charles. He gave me the line about not being able to release them to me as it was an ongoing investigation at this point. But I was not obligated to keep this to myself. I got the message loud and clear and would tell Charles about it when I spoke to him.
My next call was to Charles, and Mary Jo made an appointment with me later in the afternoon to see him. I called Pamela then and asked if she wanted to have a late lunch. She insisted it would be her treat, and we could discuss what we needed to before that.
So I stripped, took another shower, got dressed up a bit more than usual, and headed off to her office just after 12:30. I reviewed the documents she had completed. Since the two of them were still unaccounted for, I couldn't serve them so it didn't matter if I did that yet. But I should get the legal separation filed with the court as I would be responsible for any bills that she might have incurred up to that point. There wasn't anything more we could do beyond that.
I joked that I had been separated from most of my money already, and she just nodded. I did inform her of Matt's conversation, but I was certain that she knew about it already. Lunch was nice and we reconfirmed for dinner on Saturday while we were eating.
When we were done, I walked her back to her office and then headed over to Charles'. I was just on time and was ushered in. Charles shook my hand and then started to review what I already knew. He had been in contact with the mortgage company, and they were helping him with the documents he needed. It seems that when the DA had subpoenaed their records they knew it was just a matter of time before he had them, anyways. So they were going to give him a set of them.
I told him of Matt's findings and what was happening there. And what Pamela was doing with the divorce. He made some notes on a legal pad and then I was done. I was back in rush-hour traffic towards home again so I decided to reward myself with another Connie's pizza. What the hell, right? Oh, this time I knew I had beer in the fridge.
The next day I called the Navy and got the run around for a few hours trying to give them my new bank account number. It would likely take a couple of months to get it changed, The woman on the other end of the phone recommended that I might want to have them mail me a real check for a while until this all got straightened out. I took her advice and she said she would send the forms to me to do just that.
That done, I was up and working on sanding the patches smooth and adding a final coat of mud before I would prime and then paint when there was a knock at the door.
I went to answer it, and it was dear old dad standing there with a six-pack under his arm and a pizza in the other hand.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"I have pizza, do you really want to stand here and gab at the door?"
So I let him in, and we sat at the table and ate. We had finished about two thirds of it when he finally stopped and said. "I saw what they did."
"You gonna fucking keep playing these games with me? All right, they put a mortgage on your house for $450,000. And I know it is your house; her name is not anywhere on the deed."
"That's about right."
"You gave that information to the police?"
"Nope, went right to the District Attorney."
"They took more than just that. If they could do that, they had to take everything else."
"All but two grand," I took a drink from my beer.
He just shook his head and looked down at his feet. "How the hell did they ever decide to do that?" He was talking out loud to himself not looking for an answer from me. I just let him sit there and stew in it, while I went and used the head.
"What is going to happen to them?"
"Well, they are still out there somewhere so nothing, for the moment. But they can't hide forever and the statute on this runs for many years."
"You're going to put them in prison?"
"Not me, they did that themselves when they decided to forge the documents with my signature."
He just sat there and shook his head. "I need to go and take care of something. I might need a place to sleep for a few nights afterwards."
"You sure you will be back in her good graces if you stay overnight here afterwards?"
"Actually I don't give a damn about that. I never figured Buddy would do something like that. One thing to hang horns on you but this, I just don't understand."
"They got close to a million."
"That don't make it right just because of the amount."
"I know but I figured you would need to have the amount to use in the fire fight I figure you're about ready to start."
"You're right on that account. It's going to be one hell of a fight."
He got up and hugged me and walked out the door. He looked worse that I felt after I had finished with my bender. Add to the fact that he had chosen the wrong side in all of this and there was no way he was going to feel any better about it even after the fight he knew was coming.
I went back to the patching and had gotten the first coat of primer on. I was sitting in the living room killing another beer when I saw the lights come in the driveway. He knocked on the back door, and he had a suitcase in his hand. I don't know if he left, or she threw him out, and we didn't talk about it. He wasn't hungry and drank a couple of beers with me before he went to bed.
Cal showed up Saturday morning with his box of doughnuts. I put the coffee on and before the pot was done, Dad made his way to the kitchen. He didn't look much better than he did from last night. I gave him a cup, and he sat down at the table and took one of my jelly doughnuts.
"Morning Harry, rough night," Cal said.
"You might say so."
"Didn't think I would be seeing you here anytime soon," He took a drink of the coffee I had set in front of him.
"Didn't know what the hell all they did. Junior here didn't tell me; had me go and investigate it for myself."
"Sorry bunch of assholes, the two of them."
"Ain't that the truth. Biggest problem for me is I sided with the asshole instead of the good one."
"Well, I'm sure he can take a pound of flesh and call it even."
"Oh, I figure he will have me eating humble pie for quite a spell. Not that I don't deserve to."
"So you moved here permanent? Only asking in case I need to start buying more doughnuts you understand."
"Don't think so. Left a piece of my mind with her to chew on. I expect I'll hear something in a couple of days." He took another drink of his coffee.
"How the hell did we let all this happen while he was gone?" Cal asked.
"Hell if I know. It all started out innocent enough."
I really didn't need to know about all the past and got up and headed out to the garage. There was still a large amount of broken furniture that I either needed to repair or dispose of. So I spend some time evaluating what I could do with each piece and ended up deciding that most of it was junk.
I carried some of it out to the pickup and loaded it onto the bed. I went back in the house and the two of them were still talking. I asked them to move their cars, so I could go to the dump and drop this off. They did and then returned to the house. I guess they had a common bond about a child gone bad that they needed to work through. Me, I didn't give a rat's ass any longer about that and drove out to the dump and paid my fees to get rid of my load. I debated stopping in for another pizza but thought better about it. If I kept feeding them, they wouldn't leave, although I stopped at the grocery store and added a few things that were needed. Dad would still be there for a few days, and I wanted to make sure we had something to eat along with more beer.
I came in to find the two of them painting the patches. It turned out, they felt so bad that they needed to do something. So I put the groceries away and got them each a beer.
I would need to paint all the rooms as the patches were done now. They offered to help do that tomorrow, but I said I was going to think about the colors I wanted for awhile first. The paint would just be white, but I didn't need to let them know.
I told them about my dinner date tonight and the two of them headed over to Cal's for the evening. That was fine with me since they were back to reminiscing about the past.
I met Pamela at the Mexican restaurant we agreed to go to. Midwest Mexican is not TexMex or California Mexican but if there is nothing else around, it is better than no Mexican. They just can't get a margarita right though, and I switched to Coronas with lime after the first one.
Pamela was a lot of fun to be with. I got the low-down on her past and how, after she had taken the DA, her old employer had wished her the best but thought she needed to open her own practice. To his credit, he gave her a nice bonus check that she had burned through with opening her own place. But all in all, she was enjoying it albeit it was a struggle.
She knew that I was a Seal and had retired from that. She pressed me about what I did there. I told her much of it was classified, but she could see some videos on YouTube and get a good idea what a Seal team sniper did for a living.
"So you killed others."
"It's a war zone and you don't shoot to wound."
"Looking at you here, I would have never guessed."
"I learned to leave it all on the battlefield long ago. You do that or it eats you alive."
That was all the discussion of my past, and we didn't talk about my case at all. There was one of those new malls which was a gathering place of sorts in the evening. So we went down there and found the Ben and Jerry's that seemed to be at every one of them. We walked around and talked for a while more. I took her back to her car at the restaurant, and we said our goodbye's there. I thought to kiss her but didn't know if there was something unethical about doing that so I didn't. I should have but oh well.
I got back to the house around eleven and popped a beer. I sat on the couch and flipped on the tube. It was the same old news about tragedy happening to people. The news was built for voyeurs looking at it coming into their living rooms. That just wasn't for me, so I finished my beer and went back to my bedroom and went to bed after visiting the head.
I was up early and decided that I had spent enough time away from my PT cycle, and I needed to get back to it. I had a gym in the garage that I used, and after an hour there I hit the road for a run. After about two miles, I felt the rest of the road. No doubt the booze, pizza and jelly doughnuts were catching up to me. I came back, took a shower, and made breakfast. Dad was still gone at Cal's, so I got in the truck and headed over to the local hardware store.
The Gilberts had owned that store for as long as I could remember, and I did all of my business with them even thought it cost a few dollars extra. Having dated one of their daughters many years ago, along with my working there one summer, sealed the deal.
I got the paint in five-gallon cans with everything else I thought I would need to do the project. I had searched out their helper and had him following me along just like many of the customers had done when I worked for them that summer. I found out afterwards that it was tradition to do that and everyone who knew the new kid would go and do it. Of course you didn't find that out until your tour of duty had ended but the tradition lived on.
I got back to the house and Dad's car was in the driveway. No doubt things were still not well on the reservation, so I had a boarder. When I walked in carrying a bag of supplies and a five-gallon can, he looked up and smiled at me.
"You going to sit there and smile all day or get your ass out and get the rest of the things in the truck."
He just got up and went outside and picked up the other five-gallon can and brought it with him.
"You left the door unlocked." He said as he sat the can down.
"I forgot to give you a key before you left last night," I reached up above the fridge and opened the cabinet there and tossed him a key.
"So what color did you get?" He asked.
"Same color I paint when it's my choice."
"More white then."
"Some things never change." I had painted the entire inside of the house white when I first bought it. Color came after I was married and now that I was headed to unmarried, I wanted white back.
We moved what needed to be moved from the living room and got the drop clothes out of the garage and got everything arranged. I had picked up a new set of white receptacle covers, so I tossed the old ones away when I removed them.
There wasn't anything about it that was rocket science and since it was all the same color or non color as might be the case, I didn't have much cutting in to do. Dad worked around the windows, since he had a flair for using the brush to do that while I rolled the walls. It was just after lunch when we finished.
"It will need a second coat."
"Yea, I didn't think I would get away with just one."
"What's for lunch?' he asked.
"Catch," it was our family saying that had been shortened from catch as catch can, which meant go find what you like and make it.
So we sat at the table eating sandwiches with chips and a couple of pickles when he asked. "So how was the date?"
"Not bad. How was yours?" He was in the middle of swallowing when I did that and had to use his fist to pound on his chest to get his breathing back that the food he was swallowing had cut off.
"That was no damn date, and you know it. You did that on purpose when I was swallowing just to see me choke." He was still working on getting his breath back.
"Not me Dad." I sounded like a twelve year old again. I laughed and then he did.
"I took my divorce lawyer to dinner. So I don't know if that qualifies as a date or what?"
"Did you enjoy her company?" Want to see her again?"
"What the hell, am I sixteen again?"
"Just saying, if you had a good time, let her know. Maybe nothing comes of it, maybe otherwise. You make your own choice."
"I am not done with making this one the ex, and you're thinking about the next one."
"You're really going to press charges?"
"Did you want to sleep here tonight or out in your car?"
"Look, I'm just saying..." I cut him off.
"You're saying nothing about it. It is not your business. I will do what I want to do. I know it's a harsh reality but just let it be and don't get in front of it."
"I'm just saying..." He stopped when he looked at my face. I don't think he had ever seen my going to war face. It wasn't something that I brought home with me. I let him see it, all of it and he didn't say another thing.
1St Edit Glenn
2nd Edit The Druid
3rd Edit Tim