“Sure, under what status did the owner form the company; corporation, DBA or LLC?”
“I know Governor’s Insurance operates under an LLC. Try them both as LLC’s.”
“Okay, follow me to the room on the left and I’ll show you what to do. The computers lining the wall hold public records, and the disks with added information are in the filing cabinets.” The clerk said while mimicking a slow and artistic fluid movement with her hand in front of a tall filing cabinet similar to Vanna White in prior years.
“Thank you.”
“We file the disks in alphabetical order.”
“What records do you have?” Angie asked.
“We have articles of organization, and operating agreements.”
Inside the dim room, Angie’s heart began to thud faster in her chest.
“Come back here Lance.” Angie said holding out her hand for Lance.
“I’m at the front desk if you need further assistance.” said the clerk.
Angie’s rigid legs underneath her tense body lagged as she walked over to the filing cabinets and found the drawer with the ‘G’ disk in it. Her hand trembled like a spy’s on a clandestine mission pulling intelligence from the dust jacket in the metal file cabinet. Placing it in the computers DVD drive her sunken eyes glared at the backlit screen as the information appeared on the computer screen and a long list populated on the left side. Angie’s hand trembled as she grasped the computer mouse and scrolled down to the letter G.
“Governor’s Insurance LLC what secrets do you have for me?”
Angie’s eyes focused as if this paper held the key to unlock life’s greatest enigma.
“Martin Freeman, member?” Angie said shocked as she turned the paper over to see if more information appeared on the back.
“Craig never became a member of the company he provides pro-bone management services for. That makes no sense. That conniving liar! You never cease to amaze me Craig Freeman. Now I understand how he avoids paying any child support. It seems Craig hasn’t changed much; he remains a thief.” Angie murmured.
Lance amused himself chewing on his lips playing on a computer while Angie’s eyes scoured the records for any clues that could help her on her search for justice and asked, “What’s that mom?”
“Nothing Lance, I’m just talking out loud. None of this makes any sense, Giannola Enterprises, Corporation President Anthony Giannola. I thought for sure Martin ran Tony’s company. I need more proof though; this information will not suffice in court. I need their individual transaction records in their day-to-day business dealings.”
“Come on Lance we’re leaving.”
Lance’s clothes hung on his body frame as he and Angie made their way back to the Buick; Angie’s fit no better, her prominent facial bones told a sorrowful tale. During the drive, besides the typical gurgling and hollow ache in their bellies you could hear a pin drop. This allowed Angie to focus on the corruption as she sought an answer.
“That’s it! Lance we’re going to the shelter to talk with Tammy.”
“The woman you hit?”
“Lance she spit at us! No matter what your father did to her we had nothing to do with that and she had no reason to spit at us.”
Angie pushed the accelerator harder trying to beat the clock. She sat vulnerable, just days away from losing her home. Her mind replayed the contents of the files, as something did not seem right. The corporation listed Craig as working pro-bono manager and not a member. Angie knew she had to beat Craig at his own game before he destroyed evidence covering this up. With time running out she needed incriminating evidence to entice Craig to pay her.
“Come on Lance we’re here! Out of your seat belt quick, quick c’mon hurry up please!”
“How long will this take mom? I’m hungry and bored and I want to go home.”
“Lance, please humor me and behave while I talk with this woman. Now let’s go.”
With slouched shoulders and ponderous movements in his eyes Lance said, “Okay. However, I’m getting hungry and I want to eat?”
“Please cooperate with me Lance and I’ll make you your favorite for lunch when we get home!”
Angie, short on patience from the grenades Craig threw at random over the past six years, had no time for games. Lately, the grenades came at a steadier pace leaving her nerves, paper-thin.
“Hi, I’m Angelina Steadfast here to speak with Tammy Beauregard.”
“Wait here.”
The clerk glared at Angie as if she’d interrupted a Jeopardy marathon. Eventually he picked up a short microphone and spoke into it saying, “Tammy Beauregard to the intake desk, you have a visitor.”
Waiting for Tammy Angie decided to bounce from left foot to right foot mimicking a belief of arithmomaniacs. They believe counting each step in sequential order up to five and then beginning again can bring about desired results.
“Oh it’s you! What do you want?”
“Please hear me out a minute. Can we sit and talk like civilized human beings?’
“Give me one good reason.”
“Because, I need to uncover Craig’s plan. Sorry, that I hit you the other day. I don’t like anyone spitting at us. We had nothing to do with Craig and Martin’s thievery. I want to make it right and to do that I need to know how he pushed people out of their businesses. I went to the courthouse today and found that Craig represents the company as a pro-bone manager. He never listed himself as a member of his own company.”
Relaxing in the chair a bit and allowing her infuriation to subside Tammy appeared a bit more empathetic. Turning to Lance she said, “Hi Lance. Sorry if I scared you the other day.”
“I’m much happier now that you and my mom aren’t fighting.”
“I apologize. I had no right to get that upset with you or your mother. Can we call a truce and all remain friends?” Tammy said.
Lance appeared a bit distracted as he squirmed in the spot he stood. His arms hung like tense electric wires at his sides while he fidgeted in random order from foot to foot. Lance appeared spiritless and occasionally his eyes would drift toward Tammy’s eyes. Then without reservation his red-rimmed slits would look away to avoid confrontation.
“It's okay I understand. I guess my dad cheated people making them angry. I feel sad because my friends and I in the neighborhood aren’t allowed to play together any longer. I miss my friends. Their parents said it's my dad’s fault.”
Standing there with her shoulders bowing over her chest, Angie choked up and couldn’t utter one word at Lance’s revelation. Tammy’s pale winter-appearance changed to flush while her mind began cycling through choices of what to say. Placing her hands on Lance’s arms she piped in saying, “Lance I know that your friends miss you as well. Nobody blames you or your mom for what your dad did. You know that right?”
With arms cradling his stomach and parted lips Lance said, “I suppose.”
The typical foul odor in this particular shelter that Angie and Lance had on occasion, called home, prepared one of Lance’s favorites, tacos. The spicy scents held his attention. A natural reflex drew his nose toward the food source.
“Okay good, because I don’t want you to feel responsible for what your dad did. I know that Alex, my son, has missed you. Would you like to play with him?”
Angie and Tammy shared a reassuring glance.
“Yes I would! Can I mom, can I please? I’m happy Alex wants to play with me.” Lance said.
The heaviness in Angie’s limbs lifted allowing her fluidity in her movement while a smile invaded her lips.
“Sure you can. Nothing would make me happier.”
Tammy, Angie and Lance gave in to the sense of urgency of reuniting the two former playmates. Angie and Tammy exchanged another glance, unobservant to events occurring around them as they walked back to the children’s play area where Alex waited for Tammy.
“Look Alex I ran into Lance.” Tammy said.
“Lance my buddy; I’m glad you’re here!”
“You two play and have fun. We need sit and talk.” Tammy said.
Tammy and Angie walked over to a pair of tables flanking the wall and sat to chat over coffee.
“Angie, I now understand what you and lance experienced and would like to offer a sympathetic ear to hear your needs.”
“Sorry for the troubled life you experienced with Craig.”
“Okay let’s get down to business. Let me see what you found at the courthouse. The papers appear fraudulent. Craig claimed ownership of Governor’s insurance when we signed with him. We believed he would protect our best interests. However, when the first accident happened and we needed to make a claim he said our premiums would triple. Therefore, we never filed the claim. Angie, at that time we paid $1,000 a month in insurance premiums for our roofing business and could not afford higher premiums so we settled with the injured employee out-of-pocket. After the second accident three months later, we knew we couldn’t make a claim against the policy because of him threatening us with higher premiums. Business began lagging. To settle the claim with the second employee we sold our home. From that point forward, Craig raised our premiums because the employees tried to make a claim. We had no knowledge they did this at first. After that our client base just dried up and we folded.”
“Do you think Craig persuaded them to go over to his side with a payoff?” Angie said.
“Al and I learned never to put anything past employees because of their fickle nature. What part does Anthony Giannola play in this elaborate scheme anyway?” Tammy said.
“What do you know about him? That’s Martin’s brother-in-law.”
“I know that Anthony, or Tony as they called him, does not trust Martin. I can recall many times on the jobsite when Tony came searching for Martin and questioned him, at times in front of the clients, where money went. Martin always had an answer for Anthony explaining the money trail. However, his answers always seemed vague and ambiguous. One specific incident comes to mind when I overheard Martin tell Tony the money in question remained on the balance sheet, however Tony’s understanding of the material remained inaccurate. Martin floored me when he said that!” Tammy said.
“Tony, a respected businessman questions his jaded and insecure brother-in-law? That behavior is uncommon in a trusted business partnership.”
“Why do you say insecure and jaded?” Tammy asked.
“Jaded because of the career field he works in. He did not want to go in the insurance business; he had other career goals outlined for his life. Insecure because of rapid balding and the extra forty pounds carried around the midsection. Angie said.
“Untrustworthy as in Tony Giannola has reason to question Martin’s answers about where Tony’s money went.” Tammy said.
“Listen Craig may have required me to stay-at-home and not work. Nevertheless, in the beginning of our marriage, I did not trust him; I sensed many red flags. A few years back when I began to notice a multitude of feeble answers, I began studying the insurance world at the library. During the earliest days of my studies I questioned why their presence graced your jobsites; it didn’t add up.”
“Al and I questioned the same notion. Showing up on the jobsite unannounced, they spoke to our clients, without our consent. We found it odd, yet they explained it as a necessity in the insurance business.”
“Do you have any of your old records from your business?” Angie asked.
“I do. I have them in storage. I keep a small storage unit because I wouldn’t want to appear at an audit without proof of prior earnings and write-offs.”
“I would like to take a look at them if you don’t mind. Your story has inspired me. My quest for justice with respect to Craig and Martin continues.”
“Sure I’ve got nothing to hide. In retrospect, I know of one box in particular that will interest you. Let’s just say the numbers looked peculiar on those pages; they did not add up. Angie I have to ask, you say you never worked in the company; yet many of the documents I have list you as an officer of the company.” Tammy said.
“That lying thief! Now I’m anxious to look at those papers tomorrow.”
“Okay. Let’s go get the boys.” Tammy said.
Chapter 7
Before arriving at the courthouse, Angie had one lone stop to make.
“Lance we need to stop at my work first. I need to ask for time off. I can’t even send you to school; how would you bathe at night with no hot water?”
Angie turned into the bakery where she worked. She and Lance both relished in the wonderful scent emanating from the fresh baked goods. A bell, strung onto the horizontal door handle with thin wire, sounded when Angie opened the door.
“Hi Vanessa, do you have a few minutes so we can talk?”
“Sure Angie. Hi, Lance. I bet you’d like a doughnut. Pick one out while your mom and I talk.”
“Vanessa I’m sorry to ask however I’ve run into trouble with Craig again. He stopped paying on the house and allowed it to fall into foreclosure. The bank auctioned it this morning.”
“Angie I’m so sorry. What can I do to help you?”
“I’ll need some time off from work.” Angie said.
“Sure, anything.” Vanessa said.
“Thank you that will help on many levels. After I deal with pressing issues, I will come back to work.”
The two women exchanged a hug and turned their attention to Lance.
“Did you pick out a doughnut?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Lance said.
“Thank you. Expect to hear from me in a week or two.” Angie said.
“Bye. Take care.” Vanessa said.
Putting aside her plans because of Craig’s cruelty angered Angie. However, her thoughts often focused on Lance’s inner turmoil in this predicament. She questioned how this affected his self-concept and what he thought about his father. Pulling into the courthouse parking lot Angie noticed many orange construction barrels and in winter, this seemed odd. Lance focused on the hum and grind of the backhoes hydraulic mechanisms.
“I’m going to work in construction when I grow up.” Lance said.
Lance and Angie walked alongside the orange barrels as Lance stared at the backhoe and lost himself in a daydream.
“You will make a fine construction worker.” Angie said.
“Hi I’m Angelina Steadfast. I’ve lost my home through an auction and judicial foreclosure two days ago, how much time do I have to redeem it?”
“Let me look it up and see what bank owns it, give me the address?”
“423 Meadberry Lane. Farmington Hills, MI 48331”
“Give me just a moment to look it up.”
Angie’s dismal mood crept back in as she knew one lone method to attain her home; pay off the mortgage balance which she lacked. Craig’s deceit ran deep and she needed information on the status of any lien-holders and any remaining balances to pay the home off.
“Miss, if you pay $9,000 you will redeem your home. Wow, most homes in that area hold value of about $150,000.” said the clerk.
“Correct me if I heard you wrong, when I pay $9,000 I will redeem my home.”
“Yes. Fifteen equal lump sum payments of $10,000 paid off most of this mortgage.”
“Interesting?” Angie said.
“Take a look here at the payment history.” said the clerk turning the computer screen around for Angie to look at.
Angie felt puzzled. Earlier this morning an anxious feeling overtook her body believing the amount due on the home for redemption neared upwards of $100,000.
“How long do I have to redeem it?”
“You have about ten days left.”
“I have ten days! How the hell can I come up with $9,000 in ten days?” Angie said.
“I know it seems discouraging. Most people cannot redeem their homes from foreclosure. Giving bad news to citizens has never brought a smile to my face; sorry.”
“Well I’m determined. I’ve never let a challenge stand in my way before a
nd my reputation depends on this. Redeeming my pride with the neighbors, because of my jackass ex-husband duping them out of their homes reigns supreme. Would the same time limits apply to neighbors foreclosed upon as well? I understand the monetary amounts will differ.”
“Yes, the ten day period applies to all homes lost in judicial foreclosures.”
“Okay then. Thank you for the information. Where will I find the Friend of the Court office?”
“Yes, just down the hall past the double set of doors on your left.” said the clerk.
Angie felt relieved owing such a small amount. At that point, she could redeem her home. This inspired her and prompted a desire to help each homeowner on the block that lost their home due to Craig and Martin pillaging their businesses for clients and bankrupting them. Angie smiled at the opportunity before her.
“C’mon Lance. I can take care of my business there tomorrow. I know you’re eager to play with Alex.”
Angie and Lance entered their temporary home among a chill in the air. Angie’s eyes shifted from a glimpse of Lance in the rearview mirror, then at herself.
“Lance you’ve got your seat belt on right?”
Before he could answer, a black sport utility vehicle sped up and smashed into their back bumper.
“Ouch!” Lance cried as his body thrust in an unnatural contortion. At that point, his neck swung forward and then jolted back quick, from the abrupt impact.
“Hurry Lance lay down! Someone’s ramming our car. Hold on Lance here they come again!”
“Stay down baby. I’m getting us to safety!”
Angie floored it and swung the car around a corner quick using the pull of centrifugal force to get them out of harm’s way. The sport utility continued straight and sped away from them. However, she clearly saw the guilty culprit in the driver’s seat and the telltale license plate; Martin.
Angie pulled the car to the side of the street.
“Honey are you hurt? Angie asked.
“No, I think I’m okay mom. My neck feels a little sore but I’m okay.” Lance said.
“Who hit us?” Lance asked.
“Martin, a demented brother of your father’s. He will get what’s coming to him, no one rams our car, placing my son in danger, and gets away with it! You leach Martin! Let the games begin!”
ISOLATION: Child Support 911 Page 5