'On a day like today, we passed the time away
Writing love letters in the sand
How you laughed when I cried each time, I saw the tide
Take our love letters from the sand'
There was a little cove behind our house, a private cove. Our steps were the only path down to the cove, so it was ours alone for all practical purposes.
Kathy and I would stroll along, watching the waves break over the sand. When the tide was ebbing one day, Kathy picked up a stick. "Wait here, John." she instructed me, and ran down the beach. I saw her scraping in the sand for a while, before she called me to join her.
As I approached, I could see what she had written. "John, I love you, unconditionally. You are my total world. I will always be your girl."
"There! There is my pledge to love my John, forever." She smiled beautifully. "Only John. Forever."
I took her in my arms and we made love there, in the sand.
Of course, the next day that forever pledge was gone, washed away by the tide. But from then on, we each began writing love letters, in the sand. She always addressed hers to, "John". I asked her why, since who else would they be for?
Kathy would just smile at me, and shrug. I'd laugh and take her into my arms. I loved screwing on the firm, damp sand. I'd point out the divots her butt cheeks made in the sand and tell her I'd know her imprint, anywhere.
I work as a troubleshooter for Milton Industries. In point of fact, I work for the owner, Amos Milton. He uses me to check out his deals and trouble spots, trusting me to find the hidden problems or assets his official acquisition and merger team might have missed. Amos always said, "Nothing get past John." And nothing ever did.
When I looked over the paperwork for Tempe Trucking and Distribution buyout, something didn't ring true. I compared it to the trucking companies we owned and to others whose records I could access and realized what bothered me. Their payroll was much too small. Their staff wasn't large enough for the amount of freight they claimed to move. Either they'd discovered a new method of warehousing and shipping, or something was rotten in Denmark.
On the other hand, their contracts with various companies had fees schedules that were 25% higher than the competition was charging. The acquisition team thought this was wonderful. I thought it was another red flag. Why would several companies be willing to pay such high rates?
"Amos, I know this deal is highly recommended by your team, but why not give me a couple of weeks. I'll go down and check it out, see what's different about this company. Give me a chance to dig into it." He agreed and I was off for at least two weeks, maybe more. Kathy wasn't happy with that. She always hated it when I had to go away, but the homecomings are always epic.
"Two to three weeks? You're going to be gone for at least two weeks?" Kathy hated being home alone. I promised her to be back as soon as possible.
My first glance at the warehouse operations gave lie to Tempe's employment roster. Just on the warehouse floor, I could see more employees than the payroll rolls claimed. That didn't include the office personnel -- sales, accounting, the execs, clerks, etc.
I went back through the personnel records, looking for a weak link. I found it in William Mortimer, the Comptroller. He was 67 and set to retire. I found his reserved parking space and followed him from his office to his home. I knew he was a bachelor and hoped he lived alone as I rang his bell.
As the door opened, I announced, "Bill, I'm John Anthony from Milton Industries, and I want to know if your retirement fund could use some extra funds?" He knew immediately why I was there and demanded $100,000. I countered with $25,000 but ended up settling for $50,000. He was greedy, but not too disappointed.
I was right. The deal was a setup. Several of Amos's enemies had circled, hoping to get one over on the canny industrialist. Most of the staff was paid through another entity, and didn't appear on the rosters Milton was given. The companies that Tempe was contracted with were owned, through shell corporations, by his enemies. Lastly, the employees had a company union that planned to go on strike the week Milton took over. Unable to complete the shipping commitments, the companies would cancel their overpriced contracts, leaving Milton with nothing but an empty warehouse for the millions invested. The striking employees would be compensated and absorbed by other companies.
It was a neat trap, but a sloppy one. I suggested to Amos that he might be able to turn the tables, by having staff on hand to replace the strikers and make the contracted companies pay out on the outrages fees their honeypot included.
I heard Amos sigh over the phone. "No, John. You get in bed with criminals, cheats, and liars, and you just lower yourself. In any case, they'd never honor those contracts. It's not worth it. I'm not happy about that $50,000 you paid out, but I guess it was worth it to avoid the trouble." He laughed. "Besides, I'm sure it cost them more to set up this con than that. Come on home, John."
Wrapped it up in a day and a half. Personal best for me. I headed home.
The house was empty when I got home, just two days after I'd left. I'd decided to surprise Kathy and hadn't called ahead. It wasn't strange for her to be out for an afternoon. She must be out with a friend, since her car was still in the garage. I changed into trunks and went down to the beach for a dip while I waited.
I smiled when I saw the love letter that my wife had written for me in the sand. She must be lonely, missing me. "I give you my soul and my body. You take me to new heights."
I'll be honest. It choked me up, this unsolicited declaration of love from my wife.
Then I saw the disturbed sand not far from my wife's note. I recognized that particular disturbance. Kathy and I have made that same mess many times on this beach. Her butt print was distinctive, as were the other impressions in the sand.
Apparently, some things do get by me.
I left the beach, changed out of my trunks, and collected my luggage and my financial paperwork, otherwise leaving the house as I had found it.
Kathy and I didn't have a prenup. We had nothing when we got married and we were deeply in love. Who gets a prenup under those conditions?
'You made a vow that you would ever be true
But somehow that vow meant nothing to you'
I checked in to a motel down the coast from my home and headed into the office. I picked up three of the specially modified DJI Matrice 350 RTK drones I used for research on Milton's prospective acquisitions and told Amos I'd need to take several weeks off. Since there were no deals on the immediate horizon, he was happy to agree. I packed the drones into the company camper/pickup and took off, leaving my car at the office. The pickup was equipped with a 220-volt generator, which could fully recharge a drone in 60 minutes. With a 55-minute flying time, I could have gotten good coverage with two, but three allowed me to comfortably charge the down drones while overlapping coverage to ensure no time gaps.
I parked at the state beach up the coast, less than ten-minute flying time from my cove. I figured I'd send down a drone for 35 minutes then call it back, giving me a 10-minute safety buffer on the flying time. When it was out for 25 minutes, I'd launch the second, then 25 minutes later launch the third. The cycle would repeat, as the drone recharged.
The drones were equipped with hi-def cameras with SD cards, but I also recorded the video on my computer as it was transmitted back. The beach was empty as the view from the first drone came up around the point. I kept the drone up by the trees that topped the point, making it harder to see from my house.
Kathy was home now, however. I caught her carrying a tray out of the kitchen onto the deck, where a stranger was sitting. I watched them eat lunch, then retreat into the house. The stranger wrapped his arm around Kathy's waist as they entered the house, his hand slipping down to grab her ass cheek. When the door closed, I zipped the drone to the front of the house, hoping to get a look at the stranger's car, but there was no car in the driveway. Had they Ubered to the house? Why didn't they just take Kathy's car?
I took a chance and moved the drone to the window on the side of the garage. Inside, I could see two cars, Kathy's and a Tesla. We didn't have a Tesla.
I recalled the drone, figuring that I wasn't likely to get any shots this late in the day. I hurried back to the office and picked up two trail cameras. My driveway was long, with trees on either side. I parked behind the woods and walked through until I was in sight of my driveway. Then I carefully approached, finding trees on either side where I could position the trail camera, to monitor the cars coming in or leaving the property. Back at the pickup, I checked the computers -- the cameras were up and functioning.
At this point, I was cursing myself for not having invested in a home security system. Cameras would have been helpful right about now.
I gave up for the night. Either I'd catch his car leaving or he was in (my wife) for the night.
Kathy called me at 9:00 with her usual "I miss you so much" call, which she made every night when I was away. "Yeah, I miss you too," was all the reply I could muster.
"Honey, you sound depressed. Are you okay?" asked the concerned and caring wife.
"I'm fine. It's just been a stressful day. I'm learning that you can't trust anyone." I sighed. "No one."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll work it all out, you always do." She gave a fake yawn. "Honey, it's been a long day and I'm worn out." I bet you are, I thought. "I'm heading to bed. Good night. I love you." With that, she hung up, anxious to get back to bed with her paramour.
The next morning, I was at the state beach at 7:00 AM and had the drones up by 7:30. It wasn't until 9:30 that Kathy and her friend ran naked down the stairs to the beach for a quick dip. Then, while the dude dried off, Kathy scratched at the sand. Later, I moved the drone down for a closer look.
'John, It's always been you,
Without you I'm blue,
I think it's time to screw!'
While she was obviously not a poet, her attempt at verse confused me. Was she now writing love notes to me? After spending the night with this dick?
I'd seen enough, recorded enough. I didn't want or need to see more. I pulled in the drones and shut down the surveillance. I could hardly breathe and had to wait until my eyes cleared enough to drive back to the motel.
