Chapter 4- Ultimatum
"Who are you?" Thomas asked as he took the manilla folder and the receipt to sign.
"It doesn't matter who she is," Margaret growled, "Move out of the way Thomas, I'll shoot her and give her to the pigs. They'll make quick work out of a little tart like her!"
"No shooting," Thomas said as he reached over and took the shotgun out of Margaret's hands, "I saw her at Gina's Diner. No doubt she has been tailing us since then, and she also probably already called in an update to her partners or her client. Also, you most likely would have shot me too, and then where would we be?"
The woman nodded in confirmation, and then chuckled, "Jesus, it really is still the wild west out here."
"Again," Thomas said as he put the shotgun back behind the front door, "Who are you?"
"My name is Emma Recaras, I'm a private investigator," She answered with a devastating smile and green eyes that seemed to gather the light around them and glint with mischievousness, "As I'm sure you have already deduced, Thomas Goodspeed, I was hired by your wife to find you and serve you with divorce papers. That is who I am."
"A P.I., huh," Margaret said dismissively, "I'm not impressed. Thomas wasn't hiding. He was right here in plain sight."
Emma snorted at the insult and shook her head, her whole body language screaming, "Fuck you!"
"Look, Marg," Emma sneered, "You have no idea! Mister Thomas Goodspeed here is a mastermind at hiding, whether he knows it or not. I figured it out five minutes after your wife walked into my office with your best friend, Richard. It was as obvious as the noses on their faces. They were, or are, fucking. I assume you found out..."
Thomas nodded.
"As I suspected," Emma said with a self-satisfied nod, "After that, you went to your bank and withdrew everything. Nice! I would have done the same thing. But you took it one step further, you also called your identity insurance, life insurance, credit cards, and loan and trust officers at the bank and put in fraud alerts effectively freezing all of your assets. That was a stroke of pure evil genius! I applaud you, sir! With his cash in hand, and his other non-liquid assets frozen, Thomas Goodspeed disappeared."
Margaret and Leslie were both looking from Thomas to Emma. Both were lost, and they were both eager to find out the mystery.
"I'm not sure I follow," Margaret said as Leslie nodded beside her, "Would you come in and explain what is going on?"
Margaret led Emma to the living room and offered her the couch. Margaret took a rocking chair, Leslie sat in a Lazyboy recliner, and the four girls sat either on the couch or on the floor. Thomas came in and stood in front of the fireplace.
Margaret remembered her manners and asked, "Can I offer you some tea or coffee? Maybe some water?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you," Emma replied with a pleasant smile, "You see, I almost caught up to Thomas here in California, and again in Seattle, and then he just disappeared."
"Good," Margaret said, "I don't see what the problem is?"
"The problem, Marg," Emma chuckled as she looked straight at Thomas, "Is that your boyfriend here is worth more than half of a billion dollars, and now, his wife can't even buy a pack of spearmint gum! She can't buy groceries, she can't pay the utilities, and she can't do anything. And this has gone on for what, Thomas, almost a year now? So, for now, Heather has cleaned up her image. No more affairs, though Richard is always by her side waiting in the wings as she tries to convince Thomas's accountants, lawyers, and personal asset managers that he is dead. However, on the off chance that you aren't dead, she is pursuing divorce on grounds of abandonment and is seeking half of all your financial and physical assets."
The room was completely silent as soon as Emma stopped talking.
Emma looked around, smirking, then locked eyes with Thomas and said, "In case I haven't been clear enough for you, I am your wife's ultimatum. Come home and get everything back to the status quo, or lose everything."
All eyes were turned to Thomas. Leslie's mouth worked to form words that she couldn't seem to voice. Margaret just stared at him. A long penetrating glare that said, "Who are you? Why are you in my home? Have these last few months just been a holiday?"
"Margaret," Thomas began.
Margaret cut him off with an upraised hand. He stopped, and she hissed, "Half of a billion dollars?"
"Yes," He answered, "But..."
He started to explain but Margaret stopped him again with a gesture of her hand before standing up. She slouched to the side woozily, but when Thomas moved to help her she pushed him away and stumbled into the kitchen as she started to cry.
Thomas followed her into the kitchen just as Margaret puked into the sink. She puked a second time, and then she straightened up and washed her mouth out with water. When she was done she turned to Thomas and asked, "Was this... Was I just a holiday for you? A distraction? Or, a hideaway? Was I revenge for what your wife did to you?"
Thomas could see the hurt and pain in Margaret's eyes. He could see it in how she held herself. It killed him. He loved her so much, he just had to make her see that. He yearned to hold her. To reach out to her and reassure her, but he knew she was feeling betrayed and would respond well.
"No," He answered, "When you met me outside of Gina's Diner I was completely broke. I had spent months riding around the country trying to make sense of my life. Of who I am, and why my wife would cheat on me. I spent every penny I had without calling my accountants and having more wired to me, which would have alerted Heather to where I was."
"That doesn't seem to have worked out too well," Margaret said.
"No, I guess not," Thomas replied, "Please, Margaret, I didn't intentionally deceive you. I love you. This has not been a holiday, it has been a reality check. I've found in you, here in Montana, of all places, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I want to make babies with. A woman who will love me, and be faithful to me, just as I am faithful to you."
He reached out his hand towards hers. She was hesitant at first, but then she took his hand. She looked up into his stormy grey-green eyes and she asked, "This you, I have fallen in love with over these past two and a half months, is this the real you? Not some vacation personality?"
"I don't do vacation personalities," Thomas purred as he pulled her into his arms and embraced her, "No matter what, you will always get the real me."
