I handed him twenty thousand dollars from the envelope in the file cabinet. Sure as fuck Cyndi was going to pay for everything. I asked if that was enough. He laughed and said most likely more than enough.
We moved on to the web series and had a conference call with the entertainment attorney in Coeur d’Alene we used. As luck would have it, Cyndi’s refusal to sign any legal documents gave me a leg up as the sole signer for the web series. Because of that, I became the responsible party, and if I chose to break the contract, I could. Without hesitation, I requested that Martin draft a letter to Thomas. As far as I was concerned, the web series was history.
We stopped at a furniture store for new bedroom furniture and a big box store for the other things we needed, including linens, towels, pillows, and blankets. We replaced everything we had deposited at the dump earlier in the day. Our last stop was an electronics store to pick up JJ’s order. We were back on the road by three and to the house by five. It had been two days since we slept more than a few hours at a pop. We took an hour to set up the new furniture, eat a sandwich, and shower before we fell into a deep, warranted sleep. I woke up at four in the morning, spooned in Owen’s arms, and knew that everything would be okay no matter how beaten down I was.
Martin called early to let us know he’d located Terry Moore, Cyndi’s first and still husband. Terry met Cyndi one night at a casino in Las Vegas. Eight hours later, they went to a drive-thru chapel and tied the knot. They stayed together for a month. One night, they got into a horrendous fight. Cyndi got physical and cracked a lamp over his head. When he woke up in the hospital three days later, she was gone. She also cleaned him out. She stole a valuable coin collection, jewelry, watches, and over a hundred thousand in cash.
He did everything right—he filed a police report, submitted a claim to his insurance company, and even hired a private detective—but never had any luck. He never divorced her, figuring she would have to contact him if she wanted to remarry. He had planned to use his consent to divorce to attempt to get his money back.
Martin also informed us that even though we applied for a marriage license in Montana, Cyndi never filed the appropriate forms after the marriage. The Justice of Peace who married us wasn’t even a registered JP, so the marriage wasn’t legal. The icing on the cake was that because Cyndi was married to someone else, Common Law Marriage didn’t apply. The sun peaked out of the black clouds surrounding me for the first time in days.
The explanation for why Cyndi never wanted anything in her name, didn’t file tax returns, and had me file my tax status as ‘Single’ became obvious. We weren’t legally married, and she was on the run.
“Are you ready?” Owen asked. Refreshed from Martin’s information and a good night’s sleep, we were ready to play the last card.
I took a deep breath and nodded. Owen dialed Thomas’ number, laid the phone in its cradle on the speaker, and started the recorder Martin told us to use. It rang a few times before a sleepy voice picked up. It was almost nine a.m.
“Yeah,” he said, perturbed by someone disturbing him.
“It’s Austin and Owen,” Owen said, smiling. He was taking as much pleasure in doing this as I was.
“Oh. Hi boys. What’s up? I hope it’s those lovely cocks of yours.”
Thomas, for all his business savvy, wasn’t so smart. He never questioned why Owen and I were together. Owen wasn’t supposed to be back in Montana for another week or two.
“First, we wanted to let you know this conversation is being recorded.” I paused, just as Martin told me to do, to give him the option of ending the call or continuing. When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “We’ve got some bad news for you, Thomas.” I loved that I was the bearer of bad tidings.
Whatever cobwebs Thomas might have had were gone. He was up and alert a second later.
“What happened?”
“There’s not going to be a web series. Well, at least here at my farm.” I added.
“Oh yes, there fucking is. We have a contract.”
“Yeah, about that. My newly retained attorney, Martin Sedgwick, and the entertainment attorney we used to review the contract had a conversation. I’m not sure I thanked you for recommending we seek professional consultation so we would know our rights. We had a long talk yesterday, and they told me the contract wasn’t as binding as you thought. You will find a nice letter from him if you check your email. A certified copy was sent to your attorney yesterday. When I say nice, I mean nice for me. You don’t have a leg to stand on. He even told me that since no one from your crew is here watching your equipment and it’s sitting on my private property, it is technically considered abandoned under the law. This means I own it. I could have you arrested if you step foot on this property without my permission.” I paused for another dramatic effect. I was loving every minute of the phone call.
“I’m not a total ogre, even though I should be. A letter is being hand-delivered to you this morning, giving you until Friday noon to get every fucking piece of equipment off my property. I’ve requested the county sheriff be here, at my expense, and at 12:01 pm, you and your crew will be escorted off my property, and whatever remains will be mine. I will even help you because we are such nice, respectable people. Owen and I have started removing everything from my house and barn. We have been very careful, but I recommend you don’t piss us off too much. When your men return here, everything will be in the guest house. All your guys need to do is pack it and load their trucks.”
“One more thing,” Owen added, “When your people arrive to retrieve the equipment, it will be done by appointment only. You must call or email beforehand with the specific times you will arrive and how long you expect it to take to pack. We will let you know if the time is agreeable for us; if not, we will provide you with alternative times. You must provide the names of the people arriving. IDs will be checked. You and Devon are not permitted on the property. Your men can no longer sleep on the property. I called the Bed & Breakfast in town to check available space, but unfortunately, they aren’t open. The closest hotel is in Great Falls. You’ve got one shot to get it all done.”
I looked at Owen with loving admiration and gave him a thumbs-up. We were the ones in control, and it felt great!
“Austin, you can’t do this. Cyndi won’t allow it.” Thomas’s voice was even, but I could hear the anger rising.
“Yeah, about that, Cyndi has no say whatsoever. My attorney advised me that since I was the only signer of the contract, it was solely my decision. Plus, you’re telling me I can’t do it only serves to piss me off. Goodbye, Thomas.” I pushed the speakerphone button and ended the call. Owen clicked off the recorder. Somberly, we waited patiently for the phone to ring again.
The landline phone rang less than five minutes later. Owen clicked the recorder on again.