by R. B. Conroy
As usual, TooJays restaurant was very busy with the many waitresses scurrying about to serve the steadily growing army of customers. Cathy glanced toward the front door and saw her old friend step inside. She quickly stood and motioned her smiling friend over to her table. The two shared a warm embrace and then they both scooted into either side of the booth.
“My! My! You look marvelous, Cathy. Looks like The Villages have been good to you.”
“Oh, you’re much too kind, Joan, and you look wonderful also. Why, you haven’t aged a bit! Thanks for the invite and thanks for suggesting TooJays, I love this place.”
“My pleasure, and I can’t get over how great you look.”
Cathy fluffed her hair and smiled, “Oh thank you. I play a lot of tennis and work out quite a bit.”
“I guess I’ll have to take up tennis.”
Cathy giggled and then continued their conversation. “Well, tell me about your new place. I’ll bet you’re so excited!”
“We found a place in Mira Mesa and we just love it! We just can’t get over The Villages! It’s just so busy down here. I’m already in a Canasta group, a sewing club, and two golfing groups. This place is just unbelievable!”
“Yes, it is, and Mira Mesa is very nice village. I have a good friend who lives there and she wouldn’t change for the world. They go to the town square at Spanish Springs almost every night.
The waitress arrived and banged two glasses of water on the table and handed each of them a menu. “I’ll be right back to take your orders,” she announced and then hurried off.
“How is my favorite banker, Ed, doing these days?”
Cathy’s smile faded at the mention of her husband. “Oh, he’s doing just fine. He’s back in Indiana for a board meeting, something about a merger. He should be back sometime this evening. How about Howie, how’s he doing? Is he adjusting to retirement okay?” Cathy added quickly, wanting to move the subject away from Ed.
“Oh, you know Howie. Give that man a table saw and a bowling ball and he’s in seventh heaven.”
Cathy giggled, “Sounds like he hasn’t changed. Has he joined a bowling league yet?”
“Yes, he’s signed up for three leagues already. He went over to the bowling alley yesterday and rolled a 286 game. He was really thrilled about that.”
“I’ll bet!”
Suddenly Cathy’s phone lit up and began ringing. She lifted the phone and flipped it open. The screen showed Dirks’ cell number. She looked over at Joan. “Sorry, I need to take this, it’s very important.”
“Go right ahead, dearie.”
“Thank you. Hello, this is Cathy Roberts.”
“Cut the crap, Cathy, you know my cell number when you see it. You must be having lunch with your boyfriend or something.” Dirk belched up a raspy laugh.
Cathy was annoyed by the boyfriend remark from the insensitive lout. She took a deep breath and continued. “Excuse me for a second, I’m having lunch with a good friend and I need to step outside.” She moved the phone to her side and stood to leave, “This will just take a minute, Joan. If the waitress comes, would you order me the chicken salad cold plate and an ice tea, please? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No problem, Cathy, I’ll put our orders in. Take your time.”
Cathy smiled warmly and then hurried out to the front porch at TooJays and sat down on the edge of a wooden bench. “Hello, Dirk.”
“Yo, I’m still here.”
“Good, we can talk now.”
“That’s great, lady, because we have plenty to talk about.”
“Oh, I know, we need to talk about your plan.”
“We’ve got more than my plan to talk about.”
Cathy’s throat felt dry, she felt anxious. “Oh, is that right?” This creep is changing the rules again.
“Yes, something has come up, a family emergency. I’m going to need more money.”
Cathy stood and began pacing back and forth. “What the hell are you talking about, more money? We had a deal, Mr. Harrison, or did you forget?”
“Show me the contract, lady, know what I mean?”
Fuming, Cathy stood at the end of the porch and stared at the golf carts whizzing past on the busy street outside the restaurant. “I don’t have more money, sir.”
“Don’t give me that BS! You offered me one twenty the other night if I did it your way. So you got the money and I need one forty now with forty up front.”
“What? Why you low…” Cathy caught herself before completing the insulting remark.
“You need me a lot more than I need you, Mrs. Roberts. It’s one forty or the deal’s off.”
Cathy was beside herself, she only had slightly more than one hundred forty thousand in her personal account. His request would literally clean her out, but he was right; she needed him a lot more than he needed her. This thing was too far along. She had said too many things to Dirk and Eric. At this point, she felt that she had no other options but to go ahead with it. “I guess you know when you have someone over the barrel, Mr. Harrison, I’ll do one forty and not a dime more.”
“That’s my girl. Now I have some questions for you.”
“Questions? You’re supposed to have a plan.”
Cathy could hear him turning the pages on a notebook or tablet. “I do, but if I’m going to do this job right, I need some information from you.”
Cathy sighed.
“Tell me about your husband, his habits, his likes and dislikes.”
“He’s boring as hell!”
Dirk paused for a second, “I know you don’t like your husband, so cut the sarcastic remarks and tell me about him!”
She walked over and looked through the window at her friend who was talking to the waitress and pointing to the menu. “He likes to play golf and he’s a pretty social person. He enjoys having a beer with the guys after golf. He also has a private side to him.”
“Is there something he does on a regular basis that gets him alone? I need to get him out of your house if possible.”
“Hmm… good point.” She began pacing again nervously. “Oh yes, I can’t believe I forgot this. Very early, every Friday morning, he sends a letter to each of our grandkids-he never misses. He walks the three or four blocks to the Bridgeport mail station to mail the letters and then he sits awhile on a nearby bench and drinks coffee from a thermos he takes with him. He likes to sit and watch the sun rise over Arnold Palmer’s golf course just across the street. He says there’s no one around and it gives him time to reflect on things. Then he walks home and gets his cart and meets the guys for breakfast at Arnie’s place before their golf league starts.”
“I know where Bridgeport and Lake Miona are. Believe it or not, I have delivered a couple of Harleys there, and I have gone back a few times to service them. I remember the mailbox area. It’s across from the swimming pool near the front gate. That’s a ritzy place you live in.”
“It’s alright.”
“Anything else you can think of that I need to know about your husband?”
“No, but I need to give you the pass card so you can get through the gate at our village.”
“Not necessary, I’ll go around the gate like I did the night I followed you and lover boy to the Village of Duval.”
Cathy didn’t reply immediately. She took a deep breath and mumbled, “Okay.”
“Another thing, lady.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what your husband looks like. I’ve never seen him.”
Cathy nervously rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, “Oh my, that’s right. Maybe I can get you a picture of him.”
“You can’t tell enough from a picture, I need to see the guy.”
“Hmm… not sure how we can do that.”
Dirk spoke up, “I’ve got an idea.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“This Thursday I want you to talk your husband into taking you to the same Burger King we met at the other day over at Lady L
ake. You have to get him there at six o’clock sharp. You think you can do that?”
“I think I can. He’ll be home tonight from Indiana. He doesn’t like Burger King that well, but he knows that I like their chicken salad, so he’ll go.”
“Good, I will come in just after six and find a table near yours where I have a good view of him. He doesn’t know me from Adam, so he won’t be suspicious.”
“Oh…Thursday. I forgot, I have bridge club Thursday at 6:30.”
Dirk’s anger flared, “Cancel it, lady! Cancel the stupid bridge game and get your ass to Burger King at six o’clock sharp on Thursday!” There was a short pause followed by an angry, “Damn it!”
“Okay, I’ll..uh, get a sub. Yes, that will work.”
Dirk mumbled, “Stupid bitch!” under his breath.
“I must be going. Is there anything else?” she asked.
“Yeah, one small thing, the money!”
“What about it?”
“I need you to meet me at two o’clock at that flea market place tomorrow with a check made out to me for forty grand.”
Cathy suddenly felt warm; a bolt of fear shot up her spine. “I can’t do that. I can’t make the check out to you. If I come under suspicion and they find out I wrote two large checks to you out of my money market account, we would both go to jail.”
She could hear Dirk mumbling a long list of profanities on the other end of the line. “You’re smarter than me, lady! You figure it out!”
“I…uh, really don’t know what to do.”
The phone fell silent for several seconds, she could here Dirk exhale heavily. “Here’s what we do, lady, listen carefully.”
“Go ahead.”
“You said your husband rides a Harley, right?”
“Right.”
“If the cops ever check you out, you will just say that your husband was getting a little bored with you being gone all the time with all of your tennis and so forth. So to relieve his boredom he decided to become part owner in a Harley shop in Lady Lake. Then, most unfortunately, before you and your husband were able to sign the docs, he gets rubbed out. I’ll print out some phony docs from my word processor that I used with my partners and have them here at the shop waiting to be signed.”
“Oh, my, how creative. You surprise me sometimes.”
“You can sign the docs to make it look good. Eventually when all the smoke clears I’ll throw them away.
“Great plan, but I still think it will be a little suspicious if the checks are drawn on my money market account. The money should come from a joint account”
“Do you have such an account?”
Cathy pondered the question for a second, “Yes, yes we do. We have an equity line of credit in both of our names. I could write the check out of our equity line. That would be very understandable since most of Ed’s money is tied up in mutual funds and other stocks.” Cathy glanced through the window at her friend again. She was now on her cell laughing and talking to someone.
“Okay, we got a deal. See you tomorrow afternoon,” Dirk replied.
Cathy started feeling very anxious, her heart was palpitating. “Okay, but what’s your plan and when are you going to do it?”
“That’s my problem, lady.”
“No, DIRK, it’s both our problems and I want to know. Now!”
“Tough shit! He’ll be dead soon enough, so relax!” Dirk closed his phone.
“Why you….” Cathy angrily snapped her phone shut, tossed it in her purse and hurried across the long porch to rejoin her lunch companion. Suddenly her legs felt weak, she felt nauseated. The ‘dead soon enough’ comment raced through her mind. The enormity of what she was about to do had hit home with her for the first time. Her lust for Eric and the sense of freedom of being rid of Ed had overwhelmed her rational thinking up to this point. She paused by the front entrance to the restaurant, took several deep breaths, composed herself and stepped inside to rejoin her lunch companion.
24
The refreshing shower felt good after a hot day on the golf course. Standing under the warm spray, Ed took a few minutes to reflect on the events of the day. He was upbeat when he met Jared at the airport that morning, looking forward to helping his young protégé navigate his way through the complicated merger talks with First Source Bank. But now his thoughts were all fastened on Alco, the overly aggressive company that was on the verge of sabotaging the whole deal. There were few positives to hang your hat on with Alco and like most poorly managed companies, they seemed determined to continue their reckless management policies.
Ed was angry at himself for not staying on as president long enough to hold off Homer Williams on the Alco deal and close the merger deal with First Source. He had left far too much on the plate for his new young president to deal with. But now the die had been cast and all he could do was hope and pray that First Source went through with the merger. If not, his retirement would be in shambles, and he would have a lot of explaining to do to his less than understanding wife. He stepped out of the shower and snatched the towel off the rack.
Ed finished drying himself and glanced in the tall bathroom mirror to his left. “Ugh!” he exclaimed. After the shower, his drooping gray hair, sagging face and deep wrinkles made him look ancient. Fortunately for him, he was distracted from the depressing sight by the Hoosier Fight Song blaring out from the bedroom. He wrapped the damp towel around his midsection and hurried to the bedroom to find his phone. He snatched the phone off the nightstand and checked the caller ID. It was Cathy.
“Hello, dear.” She didn’t answer right away; he could hear her giggling and there was music playing in the background.
“H…hello Ed, are you on?”
“Yes, I’m on, dear.”
“Oh sorry, you didn’t answer right away so I thought your phone was going to voicemail.”
“No problem. I’m staying at the Holmgren’s and I’m getting dressed for my dinner with the board at Tippy Country Club this evening.”
“Oh, how nice. If you see anyone I know be sure and tell them I said hi.”
“Certainly, dear.” Ed could hear male voices in the background. “Where are you?”
Cathy was carrying on a conversation with somebody while talking with Ed. “What was that?”
“I said, where are you? I thought you had a tennis match this evening.”
“Oh, the match was called off because of rain. Can you believe it? It’s actually raining down here. Since we were rained out, we all decided to stop at City Fire for a sandwich.”
The clock on the nightstand read five after six and Ed was running late. “Is everything all right down there?”
“Fine, dear, fine. I was just checking to be sure you arrived safe and sound.”
Ed’s curiosity was getting the best of him. Not suspicious by nature, Cathy’s behavior for the past several months was starting to make him worry. “Who are you with? It sounds like a party or something to me.”
“Oh, no, it’s not a party.” There was animated conversation and giggling in the background. “Several of the teams just stopped for a sandwich-that’s all.”
“How many teams?”
“Well, I guess there’s only two us-our team and the Stanwicks.”
Ed dropped to the edge of the bed. City Fire was a party place for sure and she was there with Eric and the Stanwicks, a heavy drinking, dysfunctional couple who had a history of late night partying and sleeping around. He felt sick inside. Cathy almost never called him to check in. She was only calling to be certain that he was in Indiana so she could have a free rein with Eric. He felt like somebody had punched him in the gut. “Have you eaten?”
“No, not yet, but our food should be here any minute.”
“So, you should be heading home soon?” Ed snatched a tissue from a box on the nightstand and dabbed his damp forehead.
“Certainly, dear, I’ll be heading home shortly.” There was muffled laughter in the background.
Ed took a deep br
eath and tried to get a hold of himself. It could all be very harmless. After all, they needed to eat somewhere, and he and Cathy had ended up with the Stanwicks a couple of times, so that wasn’t the end of the world. Besides, he had an important meeting to go to shortly and he wanted to be at his best. So, he did what he trained himself to do while going into combat in the Marines-he blocked everything out of his mind. “Well, drive carefully on your way home, darling, I’ll call you after the meeting tomorrow,” he said coolly.
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye, dear.” Ed punched his iPhone off and hurried back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
* * * * * *
The next morning, Ed, pulled his rental car to a stop at the light on the street corner next to the bank. He smiled and nodded at several familiar faces doing some early morning shopping in the quaint little resort town. The light turned green, he flipped on his turn signal and cut a hard right and then another right a half a block later and ducked into the bank parking lot. Out of habit, he started to pull into the president’s spot, but the sign no longer said Ed Roberts. It read Reserved for Jared Holmgren. Ed drove to the next open spot in the smallish lot and pulled to a stop. He grabbed his briefcase from the passenger side and walked briskly from the parking lot toward the front door of the bank. He could see the young officers and tellers through the tall glass windows on the front of the building preparing for another day. He pushed through the heavy front door and stepped inside.
He was immediately met at the door by a young loan officer named Chad Oliver. “Hello, Mr. Roberts, how good to see you again. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”