I could never figure out how they thought they would be able to get away with it, but they tried to claim it was a lump sum income payment to run the campaign. The problem with that was she didn’t report it as income on her tax return.
Long story short, that opened a can of worms, and they started looking deeper into Brian’s campaign money going back to his prior campaigns.
He apparently bought everything with campaign money. The houses, the cars, the boat, everything.
When all was said and done, he lost the election and got indicted for over fifty different counts of fraud, mail fraud, and false filings and statements. It turned out he didn’t trust anyone except his family to manage a larger coffer of campaign funds and not report him for his shenanigans. Which is how Jane ended up working for him.
You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out that instead of just paying fines, he and Jane were looking at jail time.
One of his former staffers rolled on him and took a deal from the feds to testify. Brian and Jane had no choice but to take plea deals and both went to federal prison. Brian for ten years, Jane for three.
It was bad luck for them that the Department of Justice was run by a man loyal to the President, who wasn’t happy when Brian beat her out for the party’s nomination.
Regardless of what happened to them, at the end of the day, my marriage was over, and I had to move on.
*****
A year went by and I sold the house and moved to a less expensive suburb. I still drove my truck and still worked on elevators; surprising to me, I was in a good place after it all went down.
Then, that asshole Murphy showed up with his law in the form of Ginny at my doorstep.
“What do you want, Virginia?” I groaned.
“May I please come in, Viv?”
“It’s Viv now, huh? No sneer either. What do you want?”
“Please?”
She was crying. I sighed and motioned her in. I noticed a rusted older Toyota in my driveway.
“May I have some water, please?” she asked.
“No,” I gruffly answered and sat on my recliner.
Before she got to why she darkened my doorstep, she started sobbing.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my legs. I wasn’t interested in her issues, and I wasn’t going to console the bitch.
I watched her, and for the first time since I’d known her, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her designer clothes were also missing, and in their place was a pair of leggings and a scoop-necked t-shirt.
“I divorced the bastard,” she blurted after calming herself.
“So?”
“They were having an affair.”
I laughed, “No shit? I figured as much but could never prove it.”
She looked at me oddly, “I wondered if you knew.”
“No, but I suspected. There was too much I was kept in the dark about, and your ex made a comment or two that gave me pause.”
She nodded, and I sighed, longing to get her out of my house.
“I lost everything,” she whispered, hanging her head.
“And?”
She lifted her head and said, “I’m homeless.”
“And?”
She begged, “I…hoped…I mean, you’re my last hope. I’ve been living in my car for a week since the sheriff told me to leave my home.”