Meet Cotton Candy

 I walked out into the kitchen and popped open two Coronas and brought them in. I handed him one and took a big pull off mine, trying to calm myself. “OK, what gives? Why are you here? You know you are not supposed to be here ever! It is against all of the rules. And why the cat-and-mouse routine? What in hell were you thinking?” I was shooting off questions faster than Superman could fly.

“Whoa,” he put up his hand. “One question at a time. OK? I mean, can I at least take one sip of the beer before I answer?”

“OK,” I said. “But don’t take too long. I have questions!” I watched him as he tipped the bottle back and drank. Even while drinking he was watching me, and I knew that he was assessing me for something. Gary had always loved to keep you in suspense. It was like a game to him. See how long until you become impatient. I was used to this. I was pretty sure he was going to ask me to come back to work. So I waited, playing his game.

Finally he spoke. “First I tailed you to see if you still have it. You do,” he said, winking at me. He paused for a moment and spoke in a more serious tone. “Did you know,” he started, choosing his words carefully, “that when you take money out of a checking account, and it is over $5,000, it gets reported to the government? It is their way to keep a watch for drug money, terrorism, and such.”

“So, what is your point?” I asked, confused. I had no idea what he was getting at. I was still rattled from this unexpected visit. I certainly did not want him to know how rattled. It might make him think less of me.

“Your husband, the wonderful Richard, took out $6,000 cash. Do you know why?” He looked at me expectantly.

Feeling insulted, I blurted back defensively, “Yes, I do! His truck broke down, and he had to have a new engine put in. It was not covered under the warranty. The bill, he told me, was over $8,000, after the discount. Still, it was expensive. Why, what’s it to you anyway? Don’t trust me?” I was still edgy and did not understand why he would drive out to question me about this. It just did not make sense.

“Oh, I trust you, babe,” he said, smiling. Then his face changed to sympathetic mixed with something else. “Did you see the bill?”

I stood there, looking at Gary. I knew something was not right. I could see it, feel it, sensed it. He was afraid of something. It hit me kinda’ all at once. I took another long pull from my beer as I was standing there. He knew something all right, and he was afraid of how I was going to react. The pieces started falling into place, as I had not seen the bill for the truck. I took my husband at his word. I always had. Gary knew something, and odds were that it would be devastating to me. I braced my emotions and then I turned serious. I looked him hard in the eyes and asked calmly, ready to listen, “What do you know?”

He looked down at the floor for a moment and took another pull off his beer. He sighed, and spoke softly. “I know...he did not spend a dime of it on his truck. And that is all I am going to tell you.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? THAT IS ALL YOU ARE GOING TO TELL ME!” I was yelling now. “That is so rotten of you to come here and make an accusation like that and then not back it up!”

“It is not my place to tell you. You would hate me for it. But I am willing to make you a deal.” He continued smugly, “You come back to work for me. I am right in Albany again. You can have full use of all the equipment and you will not have to do anything dangerous. No overnights away from home, no stress. I was thinking of the dead-end cases we have. All you would have to do is close them out. Make sure nothing was missed. Write up the closing reports. Then, in your spare time, you could find out yourself what your wonderful Richard has been up to, or is up to. What do you say?” He sat there watching me.

I stood there thinking for a moment. I would not find out much on my own. I would need to use things that I just did not have. Easy job, closing out dead-end files. Not dangerous, certainly not stressful. If Richard was doing anything behind my back, I would know as he was doing it. I looked up at him and smiled. “Would I get my own office?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You can have anything you want from me, you know that.”