Austin

Playing The Last Card...

"I need to find a new hydroponics plant manager ASAP," I said on our way back to the farm. I had to protect myself.

"It's Sunday night. I doubt we can find anyone tonight."

"Yes, yes...you're right." I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the one person I'd never thought I'd ever turn to, but the person I knew would help me.

"Sorry to disturb you, but I need your help." I didn't say please or thank you. Niceties had left me. Owen took his hand off the steering wheel long enough to squeeze my knee before returning it to concentrate on the road. I had never asked Joshua for anything. He knew by my tone alone that whatever I needed was serious.

"Whatever you need, neighbor."

"Something has happened. I can't go into it right now. I need a few of your men. They must be at the Hydroponic plant before six tomorrow morning and be prepared to stay until the matter is settled."

"I'll have four of them there within the hour. If this is as serious as you make it sound, I want you protected at all costs. They will stay all night and be there as long as you need them."

In abbreviated bursts, I told him I was firing Steve, and I couldn't take a chance he'd try to sabotage the farm. I explained the only entry access was at the front of the building. The loading dock and two emergency doors were exit-only doors. I gave him the code to get into the building. I also told him his men couldn't go into the plant itself. It was a sterile environment, and protocols had to be followed.

"JJ worked there during his 4H days a few years back. He'll lead the men. He knows the ropes over there. I also have a cousin in Moscow (Idaho) who's worked extensively with Hydroponics. I'll call him now, and weather permitting, he can be here sometime tomorrow. He can help out until you can find a replacement. You don't have to worry about anything, neighbor. We take care of our own." I wanted to thank him, but my brain wasn't working.

Joshua had his pulse on everything in our community. He had to have known about Cyndi's wicked ways. He wouldn't have acted so quickly if he didn't know what was happening.

The worst thing possible was beginning to happen. I was getting emotional, and it was taking every ounce of strength to hold back another inundation of tears.

"One more thing. Can one of your guys pack everything from Steve's office and bring it to my place? I don't want him to get his hands on anything."

"You have nothing to worry about. He won't even make it to the front door."

I walked around the house looking around. Everything suddenly looked so foreign. The house I thought was built on love was truly built on deceit.

"What would you like to do?" Owen asked. He had started a fire, and we were lying on the makeshift bed Owen had made two days ago.

"Besides bashing my head in a wall, beating the living crap out of Cyndi, and digging a hole so deep I'll never have to come out again?" Tears filled my eyes. "Perhaps if I talk some things through," I answered.

Talking was the last thing I wanted to do, but I needed to vent.

"Talking is okay. There'll be no bashing, beating, or digging."

"I couldn't have handled any of this without you, and for that, I thank you," I said numbly.

I started giving him a thank-you kiss, but when our lips touched, we got carried away in a deep, soul-searching kiss. I wanted to freeze time and hide away in the kiss. Tears came to my eyes again, and I knew no matter how together I thought I was on the outside, I was a total disaster.

"I was going to suggest a way to work out your aggressions, but I think that would be insensitive of me now." Owen's hand was on my chest, letting his strength flow into me.

"More than anything, I would love to do that—to get lost in you—but I'm afraid Junior isn't going to budge an inch." I sighed deeply. "I just can't believe that for all these years. Why didn't I see it?"

"Possibly because the axiom, '

love is blind

' rings true."

"Yeah, well, in my case, deaf and dumb also."

Owen sat up and crossed his legs Indian style.

"I think Cyndi hid the affairs for as long as she could, but when it came to your front door with Devon and Thomas, the only way she could continue to protect you was to keep you away from them."

He paused for a long moment. "The people around you that knew. I understand they kept it from you out of love. But it was wrong of them. Sid even admitted it was wrong. If someone had said something years ago..."

I looked at him with tears in my eyes. "The weird part of this whole thing is that everything that has happened led us to this exact moment. If things had been different, I might have never met you. We wouldn't be here, would we?"

Owen pulled me in his arms and held me close to him. "I just hate that you are hurting so badly." He whispered.

I took a deep breath in a final attempt to end this thing once and for all. "I don't want to piecemeal this thing. I need to finish it now and move on. You know I have to do it." I kissed him tenderly and stood up, looking towards the bedroom.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Austin? I think you'll know what you'll find."

"I do...and I do," I answered.

"Okay, then let's do it." He took my hand, and we walked into the bedroom.

Cyndi always kept her desk neat and free of clutter. I pulled the top drawer out and poured it on the floor. When I found nothing, I moved to the drawers on the right side of the desk. There was nothing in the first drawer. My optimism was rising. I opened the bottom drawer where she kept the current files. There were green hanging folders with papers neatly placed in them. The folders were labeled

Barn, Hydroponics, Bank, Household, Construction, and Taxes

. The last folder in the back of the drawer was unmarked.

I pulled the folder out and opened it. Inside was a thick padded envelope. I poured the contents out on the desk. There, staring back at me, were three packets of birth control pills, Cyndi's copy of the bill, a discharge notice, and a preprinted single-sided sheet of paper with directions of the Do's and Don'ts and what to look for after the procedure.

The material was dated four months ago.

I handed the documents to Owen, who looked them over. His eyes told me everything. I went back in my mind. Were there any signs that she had done this? Did I even remember she had missed a period? She was always horniest on the days leading up to her period. I couldn't remember. I thought our lives were out in the open, but with each breath I took, I realized Cyndi's was so full of lies that they appeared as truths. My heart clenched tightly in my chest, and I struggled to take my next breath. How could she have done something like that? The worst part was that I would never know if the child was mine. Not that it mattered. I would have loved it unconditionally. My stomach flipped, and a moment later, I found myself shaking uncontrollably; how much more could there be?

"About eighteen months ago, we went to a fertility specialist," I spoke monotonally. Emotions had left me. "We both tested fine. The doctor gave us several things to try, and if they didn't work, he recommended that Cyndi have a small surgical procedure, what they call a D&C. Four months ago, out of the blue, Cyndi told me she'd scheduled it. Another lie." I would forever mourn what she took away from me.

"It was the busiest time of the year, but I told her I would take time off to take her to Great Falls. She said no, she asked her friend Trina to take her. She stayed at her place in Great Falls for three days." I cried uncontrollably. "So many times she went to Great Falls and stayed days at a time. Were they all the same? Please, please, don't let it be."

I sat on the floor in the bedroom, reading and rereading the letter. I was spinning out of control. Nausea filled me. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I ran to the bathroom, heaving the contents of my stomach. Owen was there, by my side, applying a cool washcloth to the back of my neck. I heaved once more as strangled cries overtook me. All we ever talked about was having children. How could she do something like that?

An hour later, back in the bedroom again, I called the cell phone carrier and disconnected Cyndi's and Steve's phones. Then, I changed the password, ensuring they couldn't access the account. Afterward, I logged onto the bank and changed the passwords for the online accounts and the PIN for the debit card. Owen and I knew we would have to drive to Great Falls to close the existing accounts and open new ones.

Early in our marriage, Cyndi had bad credit because of her parent's farm and their tax issues. My farm always did well, and we successfully paid off her debt. She felt no one could ever come after her if she were invisible. She refused to use her name on anything. I signed everything. If she required cash, she used my ATM card or credit card.

I always thought it was odd that she was the one with the business degree and should have known better than anyone the importance of building good credit. Still, she remained adamant that she wanted nothing in her name.

The contents of the desk were strewn across the bedroom floor. I reviewed the paperwork while Owen reviewed the QuickBooks ledgers on the computer. Computers didn't play a big part in my life, especially regarding the farm's business. I had put my blind trust in my wife that she wouldn't cheat us.

"Shit," Owen muttered under his breath. "There are some irregularities." He turned to me with a concerned expression.

"Every month, Cyndi writes a check in varying amounts made payable to

Oak Springs Farm

, between three and seven thousand dollars. Each month, it's buried under a different expense category. One month, it's under Hay, another, Feed, and so on. Do you know anything about it?"

I shook my head no.

Oak Springs Farm

was what my mother nicknamed the farm when I was little, but as far as I was aware, it was just a name that was hand-painted on a piece of wood nailed to a tree when you turned down our road. As far as I knew, it wasn't incorporated or had bank accounts. I sat down next to him, logged onto the bank again, and looked at the selection of check numbers he read off to me. Each check was endorsed with my name and deposited into a bank down the street from our bank. We enlarged the check image on the screen and saw my signature was forged on all the checks.

I went pale again and resigned myself until I got Cyndi out of my life once and for all; this nightmare wasn't going to end. Owen went back into QuickBooks and ran a history. She'd been writing and forging my signature on those checks the whole time we were married. I knew the farm did well financially, but the amount of money she squirreled away in the other bank account was staggering.

"There's something else," he said a moment later. "I know it's not cool, but I went through her emails."

I could only imagine what he found.

"She liked to email Trina the videos of her affairs. There are dozens of them. Trina sent an email a few days ago. Cyndi's not very smart. She deletes things but doesn't empty her trash afterward."

He opened the email.

'Thought you might want this for your diary. I can't wait for you to bring Devon. Perhaps we can do one of our infamous foursomes. I love you.'

He clicked on the attachment, and a video played.

Cyndi was scissored into Trina, kissing her passionately, rubbing her clit against Trina's. The passion between the two women was reminiscent of how Thomas and Devon were when they made love. Thomas was standing by the bed, stroking his cock, watching the two women, being respectful of giving them their time together.

Thomas eventually joined the two women and enjoyed their company, especially when Trina donned an oversized strap-on and rode him while he fucked Cyndi in the ass. Afterward, as they lay in bed, Thomas asked Cyndi and Trina how long they had been lovers, and Trina said forever. As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, the two women looked at each other and started on each other again.

"But that's not the worst part. He clicked on the reply and started reading it.

That was fun. Devon and I will be there in a few days. You'll fall in love with him, just as I have! A part of me wishes Austin would have that accident we've prayed about for years. Then I could sell the farm and be done with all this bullshit. I'm tired of hiding. We need to have a serious talk about the future. I want us to be together.

Steve is on board to help us as long as I cut him in on some of the proceeds. I'm in if he has a foolproof plan to make it look like an accident. I've invested too much time to give up everything we've built, but after being with Thomas and Devon, I know I can't live with Austin any longer. I think all those plans we made years ago need to be activated. I've had to put up with his sniveling shit for ten years. I won't settle for half. I want everything.

"And there you have it," I said, defeated. "Would you please print that for me?" Surprisingly, there were no more tears. Owen tried to reach out to me, but I moved away. At that moment, I needed to feel absolutely nothing.

We kept the farming records in two file cabinets in the hallway closet outside the bedroom. For some reason, the cabinets were locked, and I didn't have the keys. It only proved to be an issue for about five minutes before I went to the barn and returned with a crowbar. I might not have had a college education, but I proved that brawn can still win out no matter how smart you think you are. Meticulously, Owen and I searched through every drawer.

The first file cabinet contained farm-related matters. There were years' worth of bills and ten years' worth of state and federal tax filings. Cyndi told me years ago that Trina advised her that it was more advantageous to file 'Married Filing Separately.' We were able to locate my tax returns, which were all in order, but we couldn't find any for Cyndi. We also noticed on my returns they weren't filed under '

Married

' but under 'Single,' which opened up another can of worms. What the fuck was she up to?

The second, smaller, two-drawer cabinet contained Cyndi's stuff. We found the bank statements for the Oak Springs account, which had nearly half a million dollars. My name appeared on the statement, along with the mailing address of a PO Box in Great Falls. Owen thumbed through the bank statements and noted that, for the most part, money was deposited but never withdrawn.

The next folder contained a super-sized mailing envelope filled with hundred-dollar bills. While I continued my search, Owen counted them out.

"There is over seventy thousand dollars in here," Owen said. Why the hell did Cyndi have so much cash? Did she think she would have to make a quick getaway one day? Owen rubberbanded the cash into ten-thousand-dollar packs and returned them to the envelope.

I opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet. The only thing in the drawer was a locked metal box that took up the full length and width of the drawer. Owen and I pulled the box out. Again, brawn won out, and I was in the box within minutes.

The front part of the box contained neatly packed personal items from Cyndi's childhood. There was a draw-string flour sack with jewelry, watches, a coin collection, and odd little trinkets she'd collected over the years. There was another stack of papers, and over half the box was taken up by a large velvet drawstring bag that appeared full. Owen pulled the papers out and started sorting through them. I was sitting with my back to the wall, legs splayed wide, totally beat up.

Amongst the stack of papers, we found the titles for the farm, my work truck, the SUV that Cyndi normally drove, and all the titled equipment. I thought it, but Owen said it. Why weren't those things in the business file cabinet? We also found a manila folder containing the Oak Springs Farms incorporation papers, the annual filing renewals, and the bank account information, which was open with the Oak Springs Federal ID number and my Social Security number as the only authorized user on the account. We found the inventory and appraisal reports we had done six months earlier in a manila folder.

"I don't think it was for an insurance appraisal," Owen said. He held up a Life Insurance policy. I reached for it and looked through it.

"It's for a million dollars, double indemnity for accidental death," I said in a monotone, detached voice. "It's on me."

"You weren't aware of it?"

"Nope," I said, shaking my head.

"It's dated six months ago. Did you take a physical?"

"Yep. She told me it was for our health insurance."

"Forged signature?"

"Yep."

He lifted another thick stack of papers, looked at it, and then turned the cover for me. It was a

Last Will & Testament

with my name emblazed across it. Owen read through it quickly.

"It's one of those online, downloadable types. It says you leave everything you have and own, including the Oak Springs Farm accounts, to Cyndi Sue Macintyre." He flipped to the last page and held it up. My signature was forged on the document and notarized by her friend Trina.

In the bottom of the metal box was a sealed manila envelope. I had no problems ripping it open. The document inside the envelope left me completely baffled. It was a Nevada marriage license between Cyndi Sue Macintyre and a man named Terry Moore, dated the summer before she and I married.

"What the fuck?" I asked, too much in shock to say anything more. I handed it to Owen. He looked through the rest of the box for a second document, a Dissolution of Marriage, Divorce Decree, or Annulment, but didn't find one. Why would she have one and not the other?

Owen shook his head in disbelief. "She was married to someone else when she married you? Do you have a copy of your marriage license?"

"No. I remember signing it. Cyndi said she would file it. It should be in this stuff."

Never in my wildest dream could I foresee any of this: "Cyndi left for her adventure after graduating high school. I guess Las Vegas was one of her stops." The sheer magnitude of her duplicity crushed me.

"Oh, babe, you need to hire an attorney ASAP, and these documents need to go to a safety deposit box at your bank."

I lifted the last item, the velvet bag, and opened it slowly. I was sure there couldn't be anything more vile than we'd already found, but I was wrong again. In the bag were five spiral-bound diaries and stacks of CDs.

The diaries described in graphic and sometimes even pictorial detail Cyndi's sexual activities, from the day she lost her virginity up until we applied for the web series. Each CD was labeled with the names of the participants of the encounter, whether it was a man, multiple men, or women included in the mix. There was one special diary dedicated solely to the virgin eighteen-year-olds she inaugurated to sex.

Numbness became my partner.

We packed most of the stuff from Cyndi's file cabinet, tax returns, contracts, journals, and videos in a box that would go to Great Falls. By three in the morning, Owen and I had finished packing the last of Cyndi's stuff. I gave her only the things she was entitled to. Everything else was put in another box to go to the bank. I went back and forth on the birth control pills and finally, in one of the most satisfying moments of the night, flushed them down the toilet. We loaded her stuff in the bunkhouse and anything personally belonging to Thomas and Devon. The desk contents were put away and moved to the guest room. The bedroom, once a focal point of our marriage, was barren. The bed frame, mattress, sheets, and comforter were lying in a heap in the back of my truck. It would go to the dump on our way out of town. Cyndi's dresser was reduced to kindling for the fireplace. Any remembrances of Cyndi and our marriage were either burned or thrown away. The now empty mantle over the fireplace held only the picture of Sid and Hank.