Money Well Spent

"I take it's okay that I call you Mom now. And I'm pretty sure this is a sign you approve of Jen. Now, what do I do about Simone, and how do I go about finding out if Jen is open to us deepening our relationship?"

When I said Simone, she dropped me like a rock, and I almost didn't land on my feet. I felt a touch on my cheek, and then she was gone. I looked at the portrait and grinned.

Simone came over that afternoon, for some reason she liked to come over instead of me picking her up. She could see I was a little stiff, and when she asked I told her I had some things on my mind. We were going on a bike ride, so when she went to the bathroom I took the opportunity to pull it out of the garage. When I got back inside the bathroom door was open, and I could hear everything she was saying. "He's acting a little odd, Brenda. I need to pull him in pretty quick. Yeah, I know, but he's got to be worth some bucks, his house is probably worth almost a million, and as soon as I have him this piece of junk is going up for sale. It's always too hot or cold, and I feel like I'm suffocating half the time. While we wait for it to sell I'll get rid of those girls, I don't like the way the dark one looks at Dean, and the blonde looks like she could cheerfully kill me any minute. While we wait for the house to sell, I'll put Jackson in the apartment. After all, he works a lot of weekends, and I'll need someone to keep me company, now won't I?" He'll never..."

That was all she got out before the toilet literally blew up behind her, blowing every bit of the contents directly on to her. I could have heard her scream at the station, nine miles away. She looked up, still screaming, and saw me. She paled a little, wondering how much I had heard, and dropped her phone. Deciding the best defense was a good offense, she started ranting.

"Damn it, Dean! Look at this mess! Now I need to go home and change, and have a long shower. I'd do it here but you never seem to have enough hot water.You need to seriously consider selling this money pit. We could take it and buy a nice, modern house, maybe with a real pool and a hot tub, for entertaining."

"Do you intend to entertain Jackson in the hot tub? Maybe do a little skinny dipping in the pool while I work weekends? I heard every word, Simone, so don't try to do damage control, don't say anything at all. You're pretty good between the sheets, but that's all you got going for you. Did I ever once mention a deeper relationship, or hint about marriage? I did not, because when I do pick a life mate, it wouldn't ever have been you. Here's what I'm going to do. You clean up as best you can, while I lay some towels on your car seat. The I want you to leave, and never come back. And if you could, hurry it up, you're starting to stink the place up."

Her face went from pale to red to pale and then to almost purple as I spoke. She was screaming when I closed the door, and I heard another whoosh of water and her screams became a gurgle. "Let it go, Mom. You made your point." I lay some of my old towels I used for various projects on her seat, seeing no need to waste the good ones. I looked up once, to see the curtains flutter in the apartment. Someone was watching. I got on the bike and rode away.

Simone was gone when I got back. Judging by the scraps of paper lying around, she had tried to leave a note. I sighed and got the vacuum cleaner out, then mopped and cleaned the bathroom. "Did you really have to be so messy? The conversation I heard did the trick." All I heard was a faint sound like someone humming a happy tune, and I let it go.

Chapter 12

For the next couple of weeks, Lindsey seemed on a mission. She had a new boyfriend, and she made it a point to leave Jen and I alone as much as possible. Jen must have realized something had changed, because she started snuggling more, kissing me goodnight when she left. The kisses got longer, there was even a hint of tongue in the last few, and she seemed surprised at my enthusiasm. I was trying to figure a way to sound out her feelings towards me, when she took charge.

"My family is coming in two weeks, so we need to air out the bedrooms. I never told them we broke up, in fact, I told them our feelings were getting stronger. It wasn't a lie, at least on my part. When they get here, my things will be in OUR bedroom, and they won't just be window dressing. I'm moving in, tonight, into a full blown relationship with you. I've loved you forever, and I can't take it anymore. The choice is yours. Love me, or I'll move out tomorrow. I've had a really good offer from a station three states away. If you don't want me, I'll be gone in two weeks. Time to decide."

She was quivering, tears threatening to spill out, as she waited for my answer. I tried to look as serious as I could. "I have conditions. I'm not sleeping with a bunch of stuffed animals. You need to pick a bedroom out after your folks leave, and decorate it for a little girl, and put them on her bed. I think our first daughter will really enjoy them, knowing her Mom had them when she was her age. And on the subject of children, I think three is a good number. I don't care if they're all girls or all boys. And we need to start in another year, I'm not getting any younger here. And we're keeping Lindsey for as long as we can, that way we'll have a built in baby sitter. What do you think?"

Her mouth quivered and the tears overflowed. When she finally found her voice, she said "I think...I think..." and fainted dead away. I picked her up off the sofa, carried her over to my big rocker, and rocked her, caressing her hair and cheeks, until she woke with a start. She looked confused until she saw me, than started crying again, soft little sobs as she held me like I might disappear. When she finally was able to speak, she whispered in a small voice. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes, baby I do. I think I loved you from the first time I laid eyes on you, I just tried to fight it. I didn't think I was very good marriage material. But I can't deny my feelings for you. I want to marry you, have kids, celebrate our fiftieth anniversary together surrounded by our children and grandchildren, with maybe a great grandchild thrown in for good measure. So Jennifer Michelle Conlin, will you marry me? If you'll get off my lap, I'll get down on a knee for you."

She gripped me tighter. "I like where I am just fine. And the answer is YES! I loved you as long as you've loved me, maybe longer. I think I've been searching for you my whole life. One thing though, I'm not sure about the kids. I'm kind of superstitious of odd numbers, so if it all right if we have four?"

We were both a little hesitant at first, but got over it pretty quickly. Her body was lean, with just enought curves to make you realize she was a woman. Her breasts were small, but perfectly proportioned to her body, and I learned her nipples were really sensitive. I'm not going to go into the positions we used or the passion we had, suffice to say we did everything a man and woman in love could do for each other, as many times as possible. When we finally stopped, exhausted, we heard a giggle coming from the vents.

"MOM! You perv, were you watching?" We felt the gentle caress on both our cheeks, and the same thought popped into our mind. Engagement ring. The covers flew off us, and I knew what the venerable lady wanted. I tugged Jen up. "Come with me. Mom wants to give us an engagement gift."

We went, naked, into the attic, where I pulled the box down off the beam, opening it. I dropped to one knee. "I know I don't have to ask again, but I'm doing it right this time. Jennifer, will you marry me?" I slipped the engagement ring on her finger, not the least surprised that it fit like it was made for her. The diamond was large, and it looked enormous on her finger. She looked down and started shaking. "I can't...it's too much..."

I closed my hand over hers. "Hush baby. She wants you to have it. Wear it with pride, and remember the woman who thought you worthy of it."

The tears flowed, and as she sobbed, she whispered. "I wish you were physical, Miss Agnes, I want nothing more in this life right now than to be able to kiss you." She stopped suddenly, suffused in light, and I saw her lips flatten, and the look of pure joy in her eyes. Jen didn't say anything afterwards, she just took my hand and lead me back to bed.

We woke up when a blond haired blue eyed fairy screamed and dove between us, smothering whoever she could reach with kisses. "It's about time! Now, tell me everything."

She scooted down until she was between us, and refused to move. "Uh, Linds, we're kind of naked here..."

"That's supposed to surprise me? I'll bet it will be a long time before Jen discovers she has sleepwear again. You need to relax, believe it or not, big brother, I've seen naked people before."

So we alternated telling her of the events from the night before, leaving out the juicy parts, but she got the idea. When we got to the part about the ring, she had to see it. Tears glistened in her eyes. She then wondered aloud if Miss Agnes had a surprise for her when she got engaged.

"Why don't you ask her. And from now on, in this house, she will only respond to Mom. She had five boys and never got spoil a daughter, so you girls are going to get a lot of attention in the future. Prepare to be pampered. And I would bet my soul that when you find the right one, she'll let you know. Am I right, here?"

Her perfume wafted over us, and settled on Lindsey. Her hair ruffled like someone was stroking it. We all knew, Mom would not forget her.

Lindsey and Jen started to move things over. They were talking about furniture when I laughed. "Unless you have something you hold special, honey, leave everything but your clothes and personal items." They looked at each other and giggled, and never brought it up again. Jen was firmly settled in by the time her family showed up, all of them this time, and for a week the house was filled with the small roar of a big, happy family. Jen never said anything, but made a lot of hand gestures when she talked, using her left hand. Jan, one of the twins, finally spotted the ring and screamed, holding Jen's hand high so everyone could see. Pandemonium set in, and the males wisely withdrew to the pool. We talked and sipped soft drinks while the women made plans. First, they had to talk about my prospects, followed by the ring.

"Honey, how much money does Dean have? This house is huge, and that ring probably costs more than your father would make in years."

"Dean is really good with money, Mom. That's why I'm putting him in charge of our finances after we marry. His parents were killed in an accident while he was in service. He inherited their estate, got both life insurance policies and a settlement from the trucking company. He paid cash for the house, his vehicles are paid for, and he makes decent money at his job. We're, oh, what did Uncle Saul say all the time? Oh yes, we're comfortable. We're going to need the room Mom, I intend to follow in your footsteps, but I think I'll stop at four."

She hesitated a bit before grinning again. "As for the ring, it's an heirloom, a gift from his Mom. It was always supposed to go the the first daughter, but all they ever had was Dean. I got it by default, to be handed down when my time comes, probably to my first granddaughter." Technically everything she said was true, so no one questioned it.

Chapter 13

We settled into a comfortable routine, working at our jobs and our side project. Our contracts came up again, just when we were nominated for our third regional Emmy, as well as a national Emmy, for a story we did on corporate corruption. They knew the offers we were getting, and were desperate to keep us. I'd like to say the story came about from dogged investigative work, but it was dumped in our lap by one of the girls' old friends. Needless to say, we got a significant bump in salary.

We came home one Saturday night after working on what we were turning into a documentary on homeless people to find a surprise waiting for us. We had filmed two young black guys doing a rap while Boom Boom and Tin Can provided percussion. I personally didn't like rap but thought they had talent. Jen and I had decided to stop soon and start final edits. Even after that, we should have almost two hours of quality video we were going to try to market.

The surprise was Jasmine, their old roommate. She got out of her car warily, not sure what kind of welcome she was going to get. Lindsey was a little sharp with her greeting. "Jasmine! What are you doing slumming among normal people? Shouldn't you be sipping champagne with your CEO in your private apartment, taking dictation or something?"

She surprised us by starting to cry. Not little sniffles, but full on gasping for breath between sobs crying. My girls immediately went into protective mode, taking her into the living room, sitting her down between them on the sofa and hugging her while she cried it out. I made myself scarce, going into the kitchen and putting water on for tea, A die hard coffee man, my time overseas taught me the value of a good hot cup of tea. I preferred mine plain with just a slice of lemon, but Lindsey liked cream and sugar, and Jen went heavy on just the cream. When the pot had boiled, I put it on a service with the cups and condiments, and went into the living room, prepared to put it on the coffee table and disappear again. Jen got up and took my hand, pulling me to my big rocker.

"You need to hear this honey. Jasmine may be in real trouble, and I told her if anyone could help her, it would be you."

It was a sad, sordid tale, a young innocent seduced by the money, power, and lifestyle. Jasmine had gone from being personal assistant to mistress in less than a year. Incredibly attractive, he flaunted her as a showpiece on his business trips. He even got her to flirt with clients, to get better terms. Then one night three months ago he dropped his briefcase in a druken stupor, and it fell open. He passed out on the hotel bed, so she started sorting the papers and placing them back inside, in order. Naturally she read them, and was appalled at what she read. He was bribing contractors, federal inspectors, shuffling hidden money to his foreign clients, taking almost twice as much back for the clean money, and slipping the rest slowly into his business. He was literally making millions on this. What upset her most of all, though, was most of the clients he dealt with overseas, a part of his business she was never allowed into, were either out and out terrorists, or those sympathetic to their cause.

She panicked, shoving them back into the case until reason returned. Keeping an eye on her sleeping boss, she took every page out, captured it on her cell phone,and sent it into the Cloud. Closing it carefully when she was done, she placed it where he always kept it, on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Afraid to alter her routine, she slid into bed.

"It's been two weeks, and I bet I haven't slept three hours a night. I was wondering how to slip the information to you secretly, until he had a trip scheduled to Paris, to meet his customers. He wants me to go with him, and do more than flirt. His exact words were 'You have to be nice to them. Give them anything they want and smile. The deal I'm working on will be worth billions. Your bonus, should you please them, will be 250,000 in an offshore account.' I don't know what pisses me off more, him expecting me to whore myself out for the company, or him offering me a measly quarter million for helping secure a multi-billion dollar deal. Either way, there was no way I would have done it. I don't have a lot of pride left, but I have some, and the thought of putting American lives in danger nauseates me. I've got all the information with me. What should I do?"

They all looked at me. "Does he know you're here?"

"No, he thinks I went shopping for new clothes to impress the clients. He even gave me ten grand to spend. I got on a plane to New York, caught a cab to a local rental agency instead of a national chain, and drove straight here."

"So, we have a day or two. Girls, keep an eye on your friend, make her comfortable. I need to go into the Library and make some calls." The library was just that, a room of dark paneled walls, comfortable chairs, and shelves of books. I checked, many were first editions and valuable. I asked the real estate agent once why no one took them and the other things we had found, and she said the last heir lived on the other coast, and had no interest in flying here to inventory the contents of a house and garage he had never seen. His instructions were to include everything, and make hauling away the junk my responsibility.

I sat at the massive oak desk and opened my laptop. Once I found the number I wanted, I dialed.

"FBI, how may I help you?"

"I need to talk to Agent James Donner. It's a matter of great importance, and it's fairly time sensitive."

I could tell by the tone of voice the woman had probably heard those exact words a thousand times. "I'm afraid Special Agent Donner is out of the office at this time. Would you like to leave a message or speak to another agent?"

"I would not. You tell him Dean Harwell of KCBS called, with information vital to the nation, about terrorist activity here and abroad. Tell him if he doesn't call me back in thirty minutes I'm calling Paul Montgomery in Homeland, and give him the information."

That got her interest. These guys were supposed to be on the same team, but there was a lot of interagency rivalry going on, and the thought of another agency one upping them was something they couldn't stand.

"Would you please hold?" I knew she was going to transfer me to some middle management drone who would only muddy the waters.

"Not necessary. You tell Jim he has twenty four minutes left." I hung up while she was still talking.

Fifteen minutes the phone rang. I answered on the third ring. "Dean Harwell."

"This better be fucking good. I'm right in the middle of something."

"Bigger than exposing an international moneylaundring operation involving crooked contractors, bought federal inspectors, millions of dollars leaving the country and dirty money coming back, along with terrorist connections? If so, sorry to bother you. I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

"Goddamnit Dean! You sure about this?"

"Got the paperwork to prove it."

"What do you want?"

" Nothing, this is too big. Exclusive rights to the story would be nice. One leak and my informant stops talking. I also want full immunity for her, she's the one who brought it to me when she found out, and I want her put on the whistle blower program. If you want to make sure I'm serious, get up here as soon as possible. I can't risk the exposure of her coming to you, the guys you want will disappear like smoke."

"Give me an address. I'll charter a plane."

"Just you and one or two computer guys. You show up in force and it will not go well."

"Done. It'll be just me and one more, in case this is a wild goose chase." He got my address, and told me to meet him at the airport in ninety minutes. I'd met Jim while I was still working for the national network. He was a good guy. More importantly, he was like a bulldog when he latched on to a case. He couldn't be bought, he couldn't be frightened, he couldn't be intimidated by his superiors. Because he didn't play ball, he would never rise higher than he was right now, but he was so damn good they put up with him.

He showed up with Christen "Christy' La Mond. If he was a bulldog, she was a wolf, sniffing around something, examining everything from all angles, finding a weakness and going in for the kill. They were a very effective team, partnered up mostly because no one else would work with them. I found out by accident they were secret lovers, and wouldn't marry because one would either have to give up their job or take another assignment, usually far away. I kept their confidence, and they knew they could trust me.