Chapter 2: Wendy Wins

The ride back up the hill was considerably more sedate than the ride down. We also had the dubious pleasure of a police escort ... from a block back. Needless to say, I was very careful. When we got to Wendolyn's house, the movers were gone.

Mrs. Porter was already losing the harried look.

She pulled on my arm, "Please? Come in. I want to make sure it's all gone." She looked over her shoulder at the police car and hollered, "Officer? Please come with us?"

He vacated his car and approached, "Ma'am?" the officer questioned.

"I've sold the house, per my soon to be ex's request ... I have it in writing. The gentleman who bought the place requested, in writing, that it be stripped to the bare walls. I'm willing to make a donation to the Police Retirement Fund if you'd be willing to do a walk through." She waved a Benjamin under his nose.

He did that thing police officers do and spoke into his collar, "Dispatch?"

"Car 54 doing a walk around."

"Thank you."

The Benjamin disappeared.

Whoa! Stripped wasn't the word. Even the tubs and commodes were gone ... the only doors left were the front, back and patio. The place looked like the most efficient burglars in the world had left the shell and took the rest.

The cop positively gawked, "Ma'am? Do you have the papers authorizing this?"

Mrs. Porter waved her purse.

"May I see them?" he asked.

She fumbled in her bag and brought out the letter of authorization the buyer had given her. She handed the letter to the cop.

Even with the letter in hand the cop thought to have dispatch call the man and check. We stood around with our fingers up our ... Dispatch radioed back. The cop nodded ... several times and said uh-huh as many. Dispatch signed out.

"Looks legit," the cop said, "And with Judge Austin on your side I don't see how you can get in trouble for it. I'll just sign that I've inspected and note that everything's gone."

He made his note on the paper, gave the letter back to Mrs. Porter and asked, "How about the cars in the garage?"

"I have until Friday week to get them gone. Wanna buy a car?" Wendy had the grin people get when they know they're going to win. "Cheap."

"How cheap?" the officer queried.

"Cheap," she said.

Wendy walked to the kitchen and rockered all the doors to the garage. The lights came on and the gleam of expensive exotic metal and paint began to show as the doors lifted. We started strolling towards that mesmerizing glow.

"Holy Shit!" The officer clapped his hand to his mouth. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"Why don't you go see if there's anything you'd like?" Wendy grinned.

"Yeah." He fingered his radio. "Can I call up my buddies?"

"Sure. I need them gone and I've only had one looker show up. I don't see how I could have made my Classified ad any more clear."

The cop wiped the drool from his chin and said, "Let me guess ... Porsche 911: $200."

"That's me," said Wendy. "Didn't sell the 911. David has been the only responder. He wants the old Dodge."

The cop was calculating how much money was in his bank account, "Every cop in the station has been expecting to get calls about some little kid trying to sell his scale models. $200?"

"Each." Wendy smiled, "I have written authorization."

"Can I see it?" He was damn near sweating ... and looked ready to cry.

"Sure." She handed him the letter from her husband.

"It just says sell the house and cars and send him half." He started breathing hard, "200? Two hundred dollars? He didn't state a price in this."

"Yup," Wendy said. "Two hundred dollars ... each."

He sat down ... there wasn't a chair. He put his head between his knees and moaned, "How much did you get for the house?"

"Twenty."

He clutched at his chest, looking back at the three million dollar house. "Dollars?"

"Thousand. You don't think it was too much?"

"Oh God! He's going to be so pissed."

"Ain't it great!" Wendy wasn't asking a question. She was making a victory speech.

"What did he do that you did this?"

"We were unable to have children. Mr. Porter decided his secretary was a better lover. He's in Barbados."

"You're Porter's wife?" When she said Porter he knew.

"Yes."

"I know the secretary. I can positively promise she's already pregnant." The cop was having a very hard time with his voice.

"And you know this?"

"Oh yeah. I went to high school with Amber. I was a senior when she was a freshman. She screwed the football team ... all of us ... in one night." He sorta chuckled, "One of the guys on the force was banging her regular. Two weeks ago, she told him she was pregnant." The cop started to laugh ... very hard ... he got the hiccups.

Wendy ran to the garage fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

He drank, long and deep. The hiccups stopped. "Thanks. This is priceless ... I gotta call the boys."

"Tell them to come on out and buy a car. The only two not for sale are the Dodge and the Ford."

He did that thing again, "Dispatch?"

"Do me a force wide conference, please. I need to talk to everybody."

"Nope ... I'm not in trouble, just hook me up."

It took a couple of minutes to get everybody on the horn and then he started to explain. "All those classified ads about the cars? It's legit."

"Porter."

Yeah ... those cars."

"Two Hundred. No, I'm not kidding. Get your ass out here."

"Thanks, Dispatch ... Dispatch ... dispatch?"

He turned to Wendy, "I hope nobody robs the bank."

"Oh?"

"Porter's car collection is famous. Every cop in town is on the way."

My turn, "Famous?"

The cop said, "David ... I can call you David?" I nodded. "You haven't seen the barn."

"All I want to see is the Dodge."

Wendy apologized, "I'm sorry, David. It's all the way to the end ... behind the Lamborghini Countach."

"I'll take it!" cried the cop on hearing the word Countach. He tore his pants pocket getting out his wallet.

Wendy dug in her voluminous purse for the title. "I need you to sign this legal form that you paid two hundred dollars for the car." She smiled, "I've already sent the money for the cars. I hope I didn't screw up too badly on his address. I requested mail delivery by ship ... airplanes are so unreliable ... don't you think?" She pursed the two hundred.

"How long before he gets the money?"

"Three months, they had other stops first ... and the envelope is registered, insured, and hand deliver. Do you think he'll still be there?"

The sound of sirens approaching from every direction filled the air. There were not a few sounds of minor collisions.

"Uh-oh ... I hear the Chief's car," said the cop. I was surprised he hadn't left with his purchase.

"The wailer?" I asked.

"Whoop whoop. The wailer is the sheriff."

Very soon, the street in front of the house was full of police, ambulance and fire vehicles. The Lambo was already moved to the front lawn. Pretty thing ... totally impractical.

The fights over the cars were spectacular. Ah ... the ambulances ... that's why they showed.

Wendy sat in the last lawn chair, fumbled through a fist full of titles, took money and laughed every time a car sold. If there had been a long enough pause between sales I think she'd have danced.

The cars in the barn got more interest than the cars in the garage. The car I remembered the best was a steel bodied '32 three window with a WW2 Jap tank motor and Ardun heads.

The first cop and I went to the 7-11 four times for soda ... we made a killing.

When the carnage (pardon the pun) was over, Wendy was still sitting in the chair clutching the last two titles. They now had tattered corners.