This is the third chapter of Realtor Revenge which is the sequel to Real Estate Games. If you are new to the series, I suggest you start with Part 1 of Real Estate Games.
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Realtor Revenge
Chapter 3
The winch and the farmhouse
Anybody who is successful in business or politics has a skeleton or two hidden in their closet. Councilman Andrew Rowan was no exception. My task was to find the closet... or in his case, the un-marked grave of Betty Sue Rowan, his second wife.
Two years ago, it was common knowledge that Andrew and Betty Sue Rowan were well down the road towards a divorce. If there ever was any love in their three-year marriage, it evaporated before the wedding reception champagne went flat. She was his trophy wife and he was her retirement plan. Not that Rowan was an immensely wealthy man, but he did have a few million scattered about town in different investments.
Betty Sue's pre-nuptial agreement ensured she would get half of whatever Andrew was worth if they were to part ways. Additionally, if Betty Sue pre-deceased her husband, Betty Sue's children from a previous marriage would receive the money originally earmarked for their mother.
"This prenup guarantees either you or your kids will eventually get half of the son-of-a-bitch's money... no matter what happens," Betty Sue's lawyer told her on the day of her wedding.
The lawyer was wrong... dead wrong. Because nowhere in the legal document was any mention of who got the money if Betty Sue was abducted by aliens.
Now nobody believed that a flying saucer hovered over the Rowan residence and beamed Betty Sue's naked body out of her hot tub so she could be used for breeding on planet Xorqy... but she did disappear ten days before their divorce court date and had not been heard from since.
Everybody in Merryville knew Betty Sue was dead. She was not the type of woman to walk away from a multi-million-dollar payday.
Six months after Betty Sue went missing, the same lawyer that wrote the supposedly ironclad prenup explained the resulting legal situation to Betty Sue's children.
"Unless you can find your mother's body it will be ten years before you can petition the court to pronounce her legally dead and then another ten years before the court will declare her dead."
"We have to wait twenty years before we get our inheritance?" the eldest of the kids asked.
"Exactly. And even then, I wouldn't count on getting much," the lawyer said. "By the time twenty years pass, your step-father will have hidden most of his fortune in untouchable off-shore accounts."
Nobody thought Andrew Rowan killed his wife. He was enjoying a two-week Mediterranean cruise, with several hundred witnesses, when Betty Sue disappeared. But nobody thought the man was innocent either. It was common knowledge that Rowan had someone kill his wife and then hide the body. And anybody who had lived in Merryville for more than a couple of decades knew who Rowan hired.
Jonas Bucher and Andrew Rowan were best friends from Kindergarten through the twelfth grade. After high school, while Rowan attended Penn State, Jonas spent four years in the state pen for robbery and aggravated assault. Despite their different career choices, the two men continued to enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship. Rowan frequently bailed Jonas out of jail and hired expensive lawyers to keep him out... all in exchange for the occasional errand. Errands that were usually accomplished between the hours of midnight and four a.m.
After Betty Sue went missing, Jonas was questioned numerous times by the Merryville police department -- always accompanied by Rowan's lawyer. But despite the many times the police asked the question -- "Did you kill Betty Sue Rowan" -- Jonas' answer was always "No, I was at home that night... all by myself."
Jonas had no alibi; the police had no body. It was a stalemate. A cold case that would remain unsolved... which was exactly what Councilman Andrew Rowan wanted.
Now I didn't care if Jonas got away with Betty Sue's murder and I didn't care if Betty Sue's children got their inheritance... never liked the woman or her spoiled rotten kids. But I did need Rowan's support in getting rid of Janis Moorehead. So, I paid Jonas Bucher a visit.
I know. A gorgeous, single woman like myself should be careful about who I associate with. But even though Jonas was more than twice my size and a suspected murderer, I wasn't concerned. I have always been in control of the men in my life and Jonas would be no exception.
Jonas lived in an old farmhouse fifteen miles west of town. Considering its age, the house was in surprisingly good shape and not too shabbily decorated. I especially liked what someone had done with the master bedroom. An antique dresser, vanity and chair lined the walls. A massive four poster bed lay directly under an exposed beam ceiling.
I won't go into detail describing how Jonas found himself naked, with each arm and leg tied to opposite corners of the bed. Suffice it to say that partially bared breasts -- with the hint of more -- had made more than one man do things he would later regret.
Sitting on the side of the bed, I stroked the length of Jonas's cock with my hand. He responded almost immediately, giving me something sufficiently long and stiff to work with.
"Before I continue," I told my captive. "I'd like you to tell me something."
"Whatever you want," he said.
"Tell me where you buried Betty Sue Rowan."
Jonas flinched and then tried to pull away from his restraints.
"Is that what this is all about?"
"Don't worry, I'm not looking to get you into any sort of trouble. Consider this a simple business transaction. I need Betty Sue's body and you know where it is. You tell me and we continue what we've been doing."
"I already told the police, and the FBI, and a shitload of lawyers. I didn't have anything to do with Betty Sue's disappearance," Jonas said. "What makes you think I'll tell you anything different?"
"That's what I hoped you'd say."
I was using the classic carrot and stick interrogation technique. The carrot was a promise of sexual gratification. Not that I thought Jonas would immediately tell me his darkest secret in return for a simple hand job. I was actually hoping he wouldn't. Because the stick I had in mind was something I'd been wanting to use for a long time... and this was my chance.
I released my grip on Jonas' rapidly shriveling penis, got off the bed and started towards the bedroom door.
"Are you going to leave me tied to this bed?" he asked.
"Sit tight, I'll be right back."
I took my time walking down the creaky stairs, opened the front door and retrieved a tool bag from my car. When I returned to the bedroom, Jonas was doing the best he could to muster a tough guy expression.
The first thing out of the tool bag was a cordless power drill.
"What in hell do you plan to do with that?" Jonas yelled.