Chapter 75

"He asked and she told him that until she got hurt, being a cheerleader was the best part of high school. She told him the rumors were true, she had seen Mr. Peterson kissing Mrs. Culver in the science lab more than once."

Sam thanked her and ushered her out. Fifteen minutes later the interview with Connie confirmed what we had already heard. Sam asked if she knew what happened to me.

"For all I know or ever cared, he fell off the planet. The idea of him sucking... doing what the pictures showed him doing, is disgusting! He's probably in West Hollywood on his knees."

She took her hundred and left. I paid Sam and thanked him. He asked, "Not that I will ever hear your answer but, you've found Walter haven't you?"

I winked. "God, whatever you have planned, be careful. They thought they got away with fucking you years ago. Don't do something that ends up biting you."

"I'm not doing anything." I smiled and left.

On my way home I called John, Asshole John.

"This is Josh. Can I see the house one more time and possibly make an offer?"

"When would you like to meet?"

"Nine tomorrow morning. And, could you find out by then if the house can be rented during escrow, and for how much?"

"I don't know... I can ask. I may be able to have an answer by tomorrow morning. I'll see you at the house in the morning."

A plan was taking form. Weather it became substance was yet to be seen.

I went to my sister's for dinner. She and her husband were trying not to go crazy with the money. They liked their home just fine before Mom and Dad left us money. Now they had fliers and brochures on the table about houses. I saw a brochure for a Cadillac in the bathroom.

I listened and said I had been looking at houses as well. They were looking up in the Sierra's because they liked to ski. I said I was looking at the beach.

Early the next morning I was at the house. John brought a bigger briefcase. I looked the house over again but without the sales pitch. John set up all the papers to make an offer. I wandered the house for almost an hour. I knew John would want a check and signatures on paper. I knew the wait was probably killing him. At a quarter to ten I sat across from him.

"The rental?"

"They agreed. They would like three thousand a month for the term of escrow. They want no more than a one hundred twenty day escrow."

"So, what do I need to do now?"

He shuffled papers and came up with the form used for me to make an offer. I filled out the personal data and asked, "How low do you think they will accept?"

I watched as john shifted into thief mode, "I think they might go as low as two-point-six."

On the paper I wrote it out, "Offer of two million dollars, exactly. Seller pays escrow, closing costs and legal fees." I signed the papers and handed them to John. Before he could read what I had written I asked for it back. I added: This offer good until 72 hours from, and added the date and time I signed it.

John looked it over and said he couldn't guarantee they would respond within 72 hours.

"Then, that's your problem. If they accept I will have a check to open escrow for two hundred thousand dollars. I want a thirty day escrow, no more, no less. There will be one more stipulation but it is not about or involving the seller so we won't talk about it until they accept my offer."

"I need to know what the stipulation is."

"Get the owners to accept the offer. Then the sale will depend on you accepting the stipulation."

In my car I smiled. I hoped the offer would be accepted. It hurt that six percent of two-point-one would give him a commission of a hundred twenty-six thousand, but if my plan worked I could live with it.

A little before four the next afternoon my cell rang. Caller ID told me it was Asshole John.

"Well? Did they accept?"

"Yes. Now there is paperwork to be done. I need a check from your bank to open escrow. Can you come to the office?"

"No. I will meet you at the house at four, today." I hung up. I shut off the cell phone. At about noon the mail was delivered and in it the report from the PI. It told me where Donna White worked and what she did. I would need some furniture and she sold some. I could wander in and see what happened. This could be something. I went to my bank and got a check from them for opening escrow. I got a second check as well.

At five minutes after four I parked. John was leaning against the mini-van. I carried a briefcase. Inside was a digital tape recorder and video camera. When we sat at the table I sat with my back to the windows. The sunlight coming in the huge windows hit John in the face.

I turned on the recorders with a hidden button on the briefcase and John said, "Ok. Here are the papers to sign. Do you have the check for me?"

"I have two. One for a hundred thousand dollars made out to your real estate company and one made out to you."

"To me?"

"Yes. There is a stipulation to handing you the personal check. First, the first check. During the thirty day escrow, starting tomorrow, there are five weekends. On Sunday night of each of those weekends your wife will bring home five thousand dollars. The total for the month is twenty-five thousand dollars. To show that I am serious, here is a check for ten thousand dollars."

He took the check, looked at it, then back up at me.

"My wife? What has buying this house got to do with my wife?"

"If you get the standard commission for this real estate deal everything is fine. If you get extra payments, in your name, you could go to jail, couldn't you?"

He nodded. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

"So, every Friday night your wife will arrive here and spend the weekend. On Sunday night she will return home with five thousand dollars. None of it will be in your name."

"Wait a minute. You want my wife to spend the weekend here with you?"

"Five times."

"And she gets five thousand for each time?"

"Yes."

"What will she be doing here for the weekend?"

"If you were me, what would you want her to do?"

"Fuck!"

"Exactly. And anything else I ask her to do. We will stay here each and every weekend, unless I decide we will go out of town. She will not be seen by any of your friends or colleagues."

"Jesus! You want me to pimp out my wife!"