Chapter 4: The old ranch house

As I approached the house that had originally been built by my grandfather, I felt a twinge of nostalgia. It still had the general look from the outside of the way it had been when my family lived there. Concrete block walls, painted in a light beige color, with a roof, peaked along the middle and slopping down on all sides, to a covered porch that extended around most of the house.

On closer inspection, one would notice that the windows were all recent designs, with double pane glass and a UV ray coating to keep the full force of the sun from baking the interior. This gave them a mirrored look, which also meant that I couldn’t see any movement inside the house.

Inside, the house had been completely remodeled and modernized three times, so that there was a modern kitchen that was part of an open floor plan design with no walls between the kitchen, the dining area and the family room. The four bedrooms were at the back of the house, which I couldn’t see from my angle. The bedrooms had started as part of the original house, but there was a significant addition that more than doubled the original square footage, moving, not just the bedrooms, but a game room and an office to the back. It was a nice place, and I have to admit that Bruce had always kept it up.

I pulled up to the front, and even before I got out of the car, the door opened, and it was Consuela, Bruce’s Venezuelan wife. Yes, Bruce’s taste for Latinas had never changed.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else around, so I stepped out next to the car, and stood somewhat sheltered by the open car door. Car bodies don’t provide much protection from firearms, but I could duck behind the engine block from where I was, and that would be much better.

There was no need. Consuela saw that it was me, and she walked out to where I was parked.

Consuela was a very attractive woman, with almost black, shoulder-length hair, an outstanding set of tetas, a remarkable narrow waist, and an ass that wasn’t a flat, skinny, WASP butt, but a fuller, but by no means obese, ass. A slightly trimmer version of Kim Kardashian.

“David!” which she pronounced ‘Da-Vid.’

“Consuela!” I replied.

“I thought you would come by,” she said, sounding rather down and sad.

“Bruce isn’t here, you know. And he hasn’t been for over a week.”

She sounded like she was about to cry, “And I have no idea where he is.”

I wasn’t entirely surprised. If Bruce had betrayed everyone else, why not his wife as well.

“Come in, David, and sit down. We need to talk.”

I agreed with THAT.

Consuela’s family had immigrated to the U.S. when she was 12 years old, so both her English and Spanish were perfect. She spoke English with just the slightest Spanish accent. She and Bruce had met when they were at the U. of Florida. She was getting a general business degree, which some classes that overlapped with Bruce’s ag requirements.

I’m not completely sure that Bruce ever loved anyone except himself, but I always thought that Consuela was the one exception. Now I wasn’t sure even of that.

I wasn’t sure what to think or how to approach Consuela. As far as I could tell, from my interactions with her, she was a straight shooter. She worked for Bruce’s management company, doing the business side of the company, while he did the grove operations. She also helped dealing with the packing facilities where she would act as a translator, instructing the mainly Spanish speaking crews (of mostly women) on what they were supposed to do.

We went into the ranch house, with me still being slightly cautious, worried if I was walking into an ambush.

Consuela sat down at a small table in the kitchen that had two chairs and motioned for me to take the other. There was an open wine bottle sitting on the table, as well a partially full glass. It was still morning, too early to be drinking. She asked if I wanted to join her, or, if not, she could get me a soda or some coffee.

I asked for a diet soda, which she retrieved from the fridge.

She looked directly at me and asked, with tears in her eyes, “What is going on?”

I looked back at her and told her, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.”

“Bruce took off a week ago, and I haven’t heard from him since then,” she started crying, “I don’t know if he is alive or just hiding from me. I think he has some puta that he is seeing, so maybe he has just left me and the boys to fend on our own!”

“Where are the boys?” I asked, thinking even Bruce couldn’t abandon his sons.

“They’re at my parent’s house, staying with them until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Good. So why do you think that Bruce could be dead?”

“It’s a long story...”

“Just start at the beginning.”

Consuela stopped talking and took a breath. Then she took another big gulp of wine and topped off her glass again.

“It started about six months ago. Bruce told me that he had a plan that was going to make us rich.

“I asked him what he was thinking about, and he told me he couldn’t say. Then I asked him point blank if he was thinking of getting involved with drugs. He laughed and assured me that, no, it had nothing to do with drugs. I insisted that he give me some idea of what he was planning — after all, it would affect me and his sons — so he gave in and told me that he was involved in a project to set up some major citrus and coffee growing ranches in Central America. The difference between these ranches and the existing operations was that they would be modern, mechanized operations, growing organic products to supply the U.S. market at a cost that would be competitive with non-organic produce grown here.

“He told me that the reason he was keeping it secret was, that when the time came, we would close the business up here and move down to the ranch in Central America. He didn’t even tell me which country. I had to keep it secret, because it was all hush, hush. He told me that he was arranging to get a big slug of financing from the local government for the project, but if word got out about it, then the financing wouldn’t come through. That sounded corrupt to me, but he said that it was just the way business was done down there. He also didn’t want to be dropped by any of the groves that he was managing up here, and he thought that if they knew he was going to quit, they would fire him and find someone new earlier than he planned.

“He also told me that he was going to need my help and cooperation to get everyone on board. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I agreed to help him any way that I could. That made him very happy.

She started crying again but got control of herself and continued her story.

“David, I’m so ashamed of myself, but I had promised Bruce to do what he needed me to do!

“Not long after we talked, one evening he had me drop the kids off at my parents because he was going to have some bankers over to talk business and he didn’t want to take a chance of being interrupted.

“He brought these two men, one older and the other younger dressed in nice suits, here, and we started having some drinks. They didn’t seem to be talking business as much as just getting to know each other. I think that they were from Panama, which is known for their banking secrecy laws, but also for some large financial scandals. Bruce said that they had a flight out and would have to leave in about a half-an-hour.

“Bruce asked them to excuse us, and we went back to our bedroom. We all were pretty buzzed by then.

“He told me to take off my clothes and put on a pair of thigh-high stocking and high heels. He said that he needed me to do this, to help ‘seal the deal.’ I tried to resist, but he insisted and reminded me that I’d said I would do what I could to help. I hated it, but I did as he asked.

“Bruce left and returned to the living room, where he turned on some salsa music. Then he called for me to come out and dance for our guests.

“I was so embarrassed, but I did as he asked, and I came out and danced for these men, naked except for the stockings and high heels! Bruce would sometimes tell me to do things like put my hands on my tetas and pinch my nipples, or to turn around and show my ass to them.

“Finally, Bruce told me to go back to the bedroom and wait, while he walked out ‘guests’ out to their rental car.

“I could hear them talking, but I couldn’t really make out the words, but it sounded like they were setting a time to be back in the ‘States.”

She took another swig of wine from her glass before she started talking again. She had a far-away look in her eyes.

“Two weeks later, Bruce told me that the bankers were coming back with some papers for him to sign. I told him that I didn’t want to do what he had me do the first time again.

“He told me that we really needed to work with these men, and that they were counting on my ‘being nice’ to them again. We had a couple of drinks while we were waiting, and I was still telling him no. He finally pressured me into taking a pill — just to calm me down, he said. I took the pill and things were kind of foggy in my head. He told me again that we were going to be rich if I just helped him.

“I finally said ‘sure, I’ll help’ just before the two guys pulled up in their rental car. They came up to the house and Bruce let them in. He told me to take their jackets and hang them up in the entry closet, which I did. Then Bruce made us all a mixed drink, something with Tequila. We toasted to our future success. By then I was very relaxed and not worried about a thing.

“He told me to put my thigh-high stockings and high heels on again, and I remember thinking, ‘Oh, I’m going to dance naked for these two guys again.’ But I wasn’t upset or worried about that anymore. I felt like, so what if they want to see me naked again; it won’t hurt anyone. I changed, and I came back into the living room ready to put on a show.

“It was different when I got out there, though. Bruce put on the salsa music and I started dancing, but the two guys and Bruce stood up and got close to me in a circle, and started making dancing moves too. At the time I thought it was funny; me naked dancing with three guys who were all dressed.

“Then, Bruce told them that they could feel me up. They started feeling my tetas, even pinching my nipples and putting their hands on my ass and squeezing my cheeks.

“Then,” Consuela sniffed, and tears started in her eyes, “Bruce took a bottle of lube and put it onto these guys fingers. He told them to finger me, which they did. The one guy stuck his fingers in the front and played with my button and put his finger in my concha. The other guy started rubbing his finger on my culo, and then began putting it in deeper, and then moving it in and out, like it was a little cock.

“I was so confused by the pill and the Tequila, that I never even complained.

“Then he stopped them, and he pushed me down onto my knees. Then they all opened their pants up and pulled out their cocks. Bruce told me I had to suck them, starting with him. I did what he told me to do. I sucked their cocks until they came into my mouth. It didn’t take long, they didn’t last in my mouth. I went back to the bathroom and washed out my mouth with mouthwash.

“After that, they put their cocks back in their pants, and Bruce and the bankers went over to the table and began signing papers. Then they left.

“Bruce came back into the bedroom and hugged me and told me that I was ‘the finishing touch’ to complete that stage of the deal. He told me I had done what he needed for me to do that night.