“So, you’re saying, the situation we’re in right now could be the start of a seduction for you?”
“I guess.”
“You mean, if you were holding my hand right now, it would mean we were headed for bed?”
“Not necessarily. Besides, you’re a colleague, and you’re married. I’m talking about a situation where both parties wanted sex, and were working their way up to it.”
“How many women have you been with?”
“Hmm. I’d have to make a list, but I’d say around fifty.”
“Fifty!” she exclaimed.
“Is this a research assignment? Do you want me to work on a list tonight?”
“Have you ever been with a married woman?”
“Yes, once,” I admitted.
“What about the marriage vows? Didn’t you feel like you were committing a sin?”
“I guess we were. She was separated from her husband and was in the process of a divorce, so maybe it could be argued that she wasn’t really all that married any more. She initiated it, and we discussed the ramifications of adultery. By the time the subject came up, we were already naked, so we just did what we did.”
Our conversation moved on to the discoveries we had made so far in poring over Owens’ financial records.
Her phone rang. She greeted the caller, and then listened for a while, taking some quick notes. “Really?… Yeah…. You’re kidding!… Oh, that slimy bastard!… Yes, send it all to me. I owe you. Talk to you later.” She closed her phone again. “That was my contact. He turned up some very interesting information. Those consulting fees we saw? You know, the ones to parties we didn’t recognize? The ones that happen on the first of every month?”
“Yeah?” I responded.
Her phone rang again. “Great,” she grumbled. “Hi, Tim…. No, we’re still working…. Uh huh…. Okay…. Well, I don’t know…. I’m waiting for someone to send me some files…. I may just sleep on the couch in the office. You know I always keep an overnight bag and a change of clothes in the car…. Yeah, that way, I can keep working and still be at the plant early tomorrow…. All right…. Love you, too. Bye.” She put her phone back in her purse.
“You were saying?” I prompted.
“Yes, the so-called consulting fees. One of them could be payment for services rendered and for ongoing silence. That money goes to an unlicensed abortion clinic.”
“WHAT?”
“That’s not all,” Sarah said. “Another of those consulting fees gets laundered into a cash payment to a neighbor woman who has a six-year old son. She somehow got pregnant right after she moved in to her new house. The really shocking one, though, is to the parents of a girl who was fourteen when the payments started.”
“Fourteen? Smiling Bill Owens has a child by a fourteen-year old girl?” I sputtered.
“It seems that way. I knew I didn’t like the bastard,” Sarah said.
“I didn’t either, but I had no idea he was doing that kind of thing. How did you find all this out?”
“You probably don’t want to know. Let’s just say, if someone’s skillful enough, or unscrupulous enough, they can hack into almost anything,” she said.
I shook my head. “Owens, that greasy slime-ball! No wonder his wife wants to be done with him. But if this information was obtained in, shall we say, less than honorable ways, what are we going to do with it?”
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