Ripoff

by St. James, Morgan

  After he sped off, I took a chance and knocked at the door. I had no idea how long it would be before he returned, so I made it quick. Either she would believe me or she wouldn’t.

  When she opened the door, I said, “My name is Kimberly Martin. I know this sounds crazy, but I’m here to warn you about Ryan.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she scrutinized me. “I think you should go. I don’t know what you’re up to, but—”

  She made a move to close the door in my face.

  “No, please wait. Ryan is nothing but a con man and you’re his next target. He took me for everything but the clothes on my back. He—“

  “Why should I believe you? Wait a minute. You said Kimberly? You must be the controlling girlfriend who tried to steal from him. Oh, he told me about you, alright. I’ll say it again. Please leave!”

  I wasn’t surprised when she said that. Of course he’d make himself look like the injured party. By turning things around it made him appear to be an honest guy who was taken in by a gold-digging bitch. It was so much easier for her to view me as a disgruntled lover than the one who had been taken advantage of.

  Before she could any anything more, I rattled on. “What? He said I stole from him? I’m sorry, but it was the other way around and that’s why I’m warning you. He took my furniture, all the money in my bank accounts and charged up every credit card. Not only that, but I was only one of many.”

  To punctuate what I’d just said, I pulled a copy of the list of the other women, complete with phone numbers, out of my purse and thrust it at her. “These are the names and phone numbers of some of the other women he conned over the past few years.”

  She paled. “More women?”

  “Look, I know it’s a shock, and this sounds crazy, but we’re all in the same boat. And we all look pretty much alike. Have you noticed how much you and I resemble each other?”

  I stood there at her door, waiting for a reaction. I didn’t expect she would invite me in, so I said, “Keep this list. It’s a copy. Feel free to call anyone on that list and ask them about Ryan. We’ll be meeting in the cocktail lounge at the Westin downtown tomorrow night at seven. With or without you, we’re getting even with him. We decided to alert you before you got hurt like we did. If you’re wondering how I got your name, he’s under investigation.”

  I turned and left, unwilling to chance Ryan catching me.

  ~11~

  Matt and I had fallen into the habit of having dinner together on Friday nights to mull over what happened during the week. The man was so captivating, it drove me crazy when he teased me with those bedroom eyes, then never made a move. Well, I guess the score was even. Neither did I. Were we both just pretending there wasn’t an animal attraction, or was the call of the wild only on my side? Whatever it was didn’t matter, though. Once burned is enough.

  I forced myself to keep running Tree’s words of wisdom through my mind. She was definitely right. I simply couldn’t allow myself to react to the double-entendre remarks he was so good at sliding into our conversation. Anyway, Tree made it her mission to keep constant tabs on me. I guess she wanted to make sure I didn’t let my talent for making bad choices in men jeopardize the big bonus that should be due at the end of next quarter.

  • • • • •

  The next evening our little group convened at the Westin. I shared the encounter I’d had with Ryan’s latest paramour and said I wasn’t sure whether she would turn up or not.

  Our casual conversation turned to cooking up a short verbal charter. It was straightforward. The purpose of the Sisterhood of Conned Cougars was to feed our thirst for revenge and our dedication to seeing that Ryan got everything he deserved, and more.

  Misty Sullivan, who was facing the entrance to the lounge, said, “Hey Kimberly, I think you did it. A woman just came in who looks a lot like us.”

  Sure enough, Stephanie Wellington approached our table and looked each of us over with a critical eye.

  She shook her head as though totally amazed. “So what you said was true! I decided not to call anyone but rather to see for myself. I really expected to find out that you were exaggerating, but you’re right. We could all be sisters, or at least related. Is it true Ryan conned all of you?”

  One by one each of us said how much he’d taken us for and how.

  Stephanie’s face took on a look we all recognized instantly. It was the same one each of us had worn at one time or another. No one likes to be the victim and she’d been about to become his latest one.

  She pulled up a chair and joined us. “I wasn’t going to come at all, but something in your eyes told me to check this out, Kimberly. Thank you. Please fill me in.”

  Misty said, “Well, Kimberly is the one who actually got us together. We’ve discovered that Ryan preys on the fact that women don’t like to look like naive fools, and that’s human nature. I think he was pretty sure none of us would ever go beyond reporting that we’d been conned, if we even went that far. Let’s face it. Without Kimberly laying out the case that we do have the power to put him away if we work together, I wouldn’t have wanted to testify in public if they actually caught him, would you?”

  Cynthia Bronson, a successful real estate agent, nodded agreement and talked about her experience. “He really pulled the wool over my eyes. That prick told me he’d take my Jag in for servicing, and I never saw him again. He took off with it and spent some time in Colorado. I’d reported it stolen, and that’s about as far as it went. My insurance wouldn’t cover it because he was driving it with my permission.”

  “Did you ever get it back?” another of the Cougars asked.

  “Actually, I did. It’s a funny story. He claimed it was his and that he was a burned out entrepreneur just taking some time off from the rat race. Of course, he had met his next target and moved in with a woman who lived in Vail. But he hadn’t counted on what happened to tip his hand. She was looking for something in the glove compartment of my Jaguar when she saw the registration. Curious, as to why his car would be in my name, she tracked me down. I’m not hard to find. I told her what happened.”

  “I’ll bet she was surprised,” Misty said.

  “She sure was, but she made the mistake of confronting him instead of calling the cops. He assured her it was all a mistake, and got her to believe him. That night he and most of his clothes disappeared, but he left my car there. The next day she discovered he’d managed to drain money out of her bank account with a forged check.”

  We sat there drinking and trading stories until about ten o’clock. That night the Sisterhood of the Conned Cougars gained a new member—the woman we managed to save from the fate we all had suffered.

  It wasn’t only Stephanie’s attitude that demonstrated her gratitude. So did her pocketbook.

  Stephanie had more money than she knew what to do with and offered to fund anything we had in mind that could trap Ryan. She chuckled when she said, “Hey, all of you have been hurt enough. Whatever you need will be pocket change for me. Consider me Deep Pockets and I’m delighted to invest in our business of revenge.”

  Loretta, a songwriter who’d written some recognizable hits said, “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, yes I do. This won’t cost any of you a penny. After all, thanks to you, it looks like I’m the only one who escaped with a pot to pee in. Lord knows how many others there are. As of this moment, he’s become the hunted and we’re the hunters.”

  So with her money and our collective rage fully engaged, the team of six Conned Cougars had a mission.

  Oh, did I mention that her brother’s best friend was none other than our Chief of Police? That meant we got lots of inside information as the case against Ryan built, and the D.A. agreed to handle it personally when it came to that.

  Stephanie invited Ryan to move in after hiring a security firm to bug her house with the best audio and video equipment money could buy. She gave him every reason to believe that his plan was in full swing, and meanwhile the Cougars met
every few days to monitor progress.

  She set him up over and over again, with the unsuspecting jerk totally unaware that his every move was being recorded. He thought he’d pulled off cons behind her back, but he was the one being conned.

  Stephanie is a brainy woman. To avoid claims of entrapment, she constantly maneuvered Ryan into situations where he thought everything was his own clever idea.

  As the weeks went by, he finally made suggestions, just as he had with me, that it would make sense for her to put him on her bank accounts. After all, they were in love. Once he’d stepped into the trap, she offered no resistance.

  • • • • •

  Meanwhile, The Three Musketeers, as we now called ourselves, agreed to meet at least every few months for a girls’ weekend to trade stories in person. Kate and I flew to L.A. one weekend for the first “pajama party.” There was a lot going on, but we never used the company email for anything that wasn’t strictly business. If we did exchange something personal by email, it was always on our own accounts. We knew that if by some fluke anyone got wind of what we were saying, it could have gotten us fired.

  It was pretty obvious Julia was monitoring the company emails. A few weeks earlier she fired one of the assistants without notice and after the woman left, she told Matt the cow had stupidly used the company email to rant about her. It had only taken a few days for her to orchestrate getting the woman laid off.

  We mostly had lots of three-way conference calls, but it wasn’t the same as when we were together. That was when we overdosed on junk food and drinks while we gossiped shamelessly.

  When it was my turn to host, Cameron and Kate flew up for the weekend. One of our favorite things was to tell FACR stories while trying to top each other. The best stories were about the official uniform. They kept teasing me by saying I should try it sometime.

  Then Cameron narrowed her eyes, put her hands on her hips and said, “Get ready to go down, Kate. This story is gold. Are you ready?”

  We both nodded and settled back to listen.

  “Okay, here goes. I got the normal run-around when I called for an appointment with this jerk at the Air Force base. The customers really do hate FACR, don’t they? The secretary was truly nasty, but I kept pushing and reminded her that her boss had to talk to me. The mandate does come in handy as a way to force an appointment. I simply told her whether he answered now, or called back later, he wasn’t going to escape me. When she finally put him on, he was even worse than her. Trust me. Every word of what I’m about to tell you is true.”

  Kate crooked her finger, “Come on. We’re waiting. You know you’re going to have to go some to beat my last one. When you say truly nasty, exactly how nasty is that?”

  Cameron shuddered at the memory. “Really, really rude and hateful. The worst. Anyway, in the midst of his raving, I played my card and nicely reminded him that, according to the terms of the Federal Mandate, he had to set up an appointment with me, whether he wanted to or not.”

  She scrunched her face into an expression that was supposed to look belligerent. Cameron was so cute, it didn’t really look threatening, but we got the idea. “He shouted back, ‘Don’t you get so God Almighty with me. I was screwed by Federal Association of Correctional Reform on my last orders and I’m not about to be screwed again. I don’t care if those yo-yos are represented by the President himself! No appointment.’ I didn’t pay any attention to his rant. I just said I’d be there on Tuesday at ten. Then I got tough and added, ‘Like it or not.’”

  I threw her a little victory sign along with, “Way to go, Girl.”

  She got up again and moved over to my antique writing desk. “Okay, so when this little twerp sees me, his eyes pop out. I swear, I thought I was going to have to roll his tongue back into his mouth. Picture this. The guy is about five-foot-four in each direction. He’s got damp circles of sweat under his armpits, a little tuft of hair on top of his head, glasses as thick as the bottom of highball glasses and buck teeth. He smells like a skunk.”

  We both went, “Ewwwww. Sounds disgusting.”

  She laughed. “It gets worse. Instead of acting like the Conan the Barbarian I’d talked to on the phone, this idiot welcomed me into his office, tongue still hanging out. He motioned me to sit in a chair opposite his desk. Then he leaned back against the front of his desk.”

  She undulated against my desk to demonstrate his body language, a leering grin on her face. “I swear, I think he really pictured himself as looking sexy. At any rate, the sweat stains under his armpits were spreading, so he was definitely heating up. Without any fanfare, he looked me right in the eye and said in a husky voice, ‘Hey, Baby, I’d really like to have sex with you.’”

  Kate managed stop laughing long enough to say, “From the way you described this guy, I’m afraid I would have run out of the office screaming or I’d have thrown up all over him. What did you do?”

  “I did exactly the opposite of what I’m sure he had envisioned. I locked eyes with him, cool as could be, and said flippantly, ‘What? You’re not even offering me a cup of coffee or a drink, first?”

  The picture of Cameron doing that was too much. I choked out, “Did you bend forward and give him a peek at the girls, while you were at it?”

  “Nope, he didn’t deserve it. No sneak peeks at the girls. I just got down to business, quickly reminding him that he could lose his job if I reported sexual harassment. After all, he had just propositioned a government employee of Federal Association of Correctional Reform. You should have seen the poor man’s hand quake as he signed a very substantial purchase order.”

  Kate crumpled in surrender. “Okay, I can’t top that. You win this time, hands down.” She looked over at me. “Maybe you should tell Matt that his skimpy outfits bring out the bitch in us.”

  Cameron strutted around the room swinging her hips seductively. “Okay, honest opinion. What do you think? This is my ‘come on up and see me sometime’ walk.”

  We both gave her thumbs up. Kate said, “You want honest—you got honest. Those gorgeous swinging hips don’t do much for me. But then I’m a woman, and I’m not gay. If I was a horny contracting officer, geeze, I might have to call the paramedics. You’re still a hot babe, Cami.”

  We each downed another glass of wine. Then Cameron said, “Hey, speaking of bitches, what’s going on with bonus statements? Are we going to see some nice checks at the end of next quarter?”

  ~12~

  How could I answer her? Truthfully, I’d been a little concerned myself, but I couldn’t seem to pin Julia down to talk about bonuses. As I’d discovered over the past several months, Julia definitely had quirks when it came to managing operating expenses and reports. There was no reason I shouldn’t have had access to everything, and yet she kept an important group of records off limits to me.

  The financial files on her computer were password-protected and her personal file cabinet was always locked. I wasn’t sure she even knew how to balance her own checkbook, so it seemed strange that she would withhold some of the financial records from me. I tried to convince myself she was probably waiting for the normal probation period to end. Telling yourself something is one thing, but believing it is quite a different animal.

  Probation had ended months ago. No matter how hard I tried to justify it, I couldn’t think of any reason routine information should be confidential.

  It bothered me so much, I told Tree how frustrated I was. She digested everything, then said, “Put it in perspective, Girl. Know what I say? The hell with Federal Association of Correctional Reform, the hell with Consulting Resource Services and the hell with her. This job is probably just a stop gap for you, anyway. Here’s what I’d do in your position. I’d collect my checks, earn my bonuses and leave anything to do with business behind me at the end of the day.”

  Well, that all sounded good, and deep down I knew she was right, but frankly the less I had access to records the more curious I got. It’s in my nature.

  During one of
my Friday night dinners with Matt, I finally asked his opinion. He shrugged those big, strong shoulders of his and said, “Don’t knock yourself out over it. Julia has her own way of doing things and it’s not healthy to question her.” Was I imagining it or did his last words smack of a veiled threat?

  “What do you mean not healthy? We work for a government corporation, not organized crime. I should be able to ask questions about my job without worrying that I’ll be swimming with the fishes.”

  He laughed and held his hands up, palms out. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t go getting paranoid on me now. What I meant was don’t jeopardize your job, that’s all. I like having you around. Ask too many questions and she’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

  I shook my head. “But, you can’t get fired if you work for the government. At least that’s what I heard.”

  He leaned over and lowered his voice. “It may be what you heard, but trust me—if she wants you gone, she’ll find the way. Look at it this way, Sweetie. I’m just giving you a word to the wise. Don’t believe everything you hear. If Julia decides you’re nosing around in her business, what prevents her from eliminating your job description? Once she does that, you’re out the door. That’s what she did to someone in D.C.”

  “How could she do that?”

  “Oh, it’s one of the ways of getting around regulations. Most of the supervisors would never stoop to that, but we’re talking about Julia. She simply eliminated the job description which meant termination. Without the job, there was no reason to keep the person. She made sure the poor woman’s qualifications wouldn’t allow her to transfer to any available job openings. Don’t underestimate her. Not for a minute.”

  He stopped to take a generous sip of wine and squeezed my arm. “A week or so later, she created a different position to fill the void. It was similar with a title that didn’t sound anything like the old one and included some requirements the woman wouldn’t qualify for as a rehire. The job was covered and she got rid of the pest. Poor Myrna. That’s what she called her—The Pest. She got hustled out the door faster than if she was being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Think about it. How many FACR employees are like you and me? You know, how many actually question things?”