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It was Complicated

123

Thanks to blackrandl1958 for gifting the idea to me and her most appreciated editing, and to Crkcppr for Beta reading.

*

The complication visited me on October 15, 2010, at 7:30 in the morning. I was at Wilcox Field, waiting to board my flight for Nassau when two men in bad suits walked up to me. They stopped in front of me and I looked up from my iPad at two impassive faces.

"Mr. Cavanaugh, would you come with us please?" one spoke. Polite fellows, they even said please.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I asked.

"I'm Special Agent Washington and this is Special Agent Brown. We're with the FBI," the second man spoke.

"May I see some identification?" I asked.

They produced laminated badges and the pictures matched. Since I had no idea what a real FBI badge looked like, I took their word for it.

"I'm afraid we're here to arrest you," Washington said. "You are being charged with insider trading by the Securities and Exchange Commission. Would you come with us, please?"

I stood up, followed them down a corridor and through a door into a room with a table and four chairs in it. They informed me of my rights and produced a pair of handcuffs.

'Really,' I thought. 'They're going to walk me through the airport in handcuffs for insider trading.' It turned out that this was only half-accurate. They allowed me to carry my jacket and hide the cuffs from curious spectators. They took charge of my iPad, took me down to Miramar to their headquarters and put me in another room. There were only three chairs in this one.

After thirty minutes, Agents Washington and Brown came in and sat down. They read me a list of charges. According to them, I was involved in a hacking scheme to obtain corporate press releases before they were published and had been in a group that had made over 100 million dollars through our shenanigans. They wanted to ask me some questions.

"I'm sorry, Agents," I said. "I intend to remain silent and I would like to speak to an attorney." They tried to convince me that it would be in my best interests to answer their questions, but I stuck to my guns. These agents were not my friends and I intended to answer zero of their questions. They took me down to a desk and let me use the phone. I asked for a phone book, since I didn't know any attorneys. They got me a phone book and I scanned the impressive list. I had no clue. I picked a nice looking ad at random.

A man answered the phone and I told him I needed an attorney to represent me. He asked me what kind of case I was involved in and I told him what was going on. He transferred my call and a woman answered. "This is Tyler Atkins," she said. "How may I help you, Mr. Cavanaugh?"

I went through it again and she told me to say nothing and she would be there in an hour. They returned me to my room and I cooled my heels. 50 minutes later, the door opened and one of the most stunning women I have ever seen walked into the room. She must have been close to six feet tall. She had flaming red hair, a model's face and that clear creamy redhead complexion. Her eyes were glacial blue and her legs in that skirt went on forever. Damn, she was gorgeous.

She introduced herself and shook my hand. Her fingers were long, slender, and cool and her grip was firm. I guessed her age as somewhere around forty. I was seven years too young, as it turned out.

She sat in a chair and read over the list of charges. She looked up at me. "You are in a great deal of trouble, Mr. Cavanaugh," she said. "Did you do it?"

"Does it matter?" I asked her.

"Not for the purposes of me representing you," she said. "Personally, yes, it makes a great deal of difference."

"Well, I didn't do it," I told her. "I have never hacked a computer in my life, have no idea how to do it, I was not in on any scheme and I have never received one press release in advance of its public release. I would not have participated in any sort of insider trading if I had, and I am completely innocent of these charges."

She eyed me dubiously and those eyes pierced my soul. "Okay," she said. "We'll operate under those statements. If I find out later that you're lying to me, it's going to get ugly, do you understand?"

"Perfectly," I said.

"Let's see about getting you out of here. Is there anyone you need to talk to?"

"My wife," I said. "I would like to talk to my children, too, but that can wait until I get out."

"I'll see what I can do," she said.

She went away and I didn't see anyone for three hours. I was about to pee on the floor when Agent Brown came in with Ms. Atkins.

"I've arranged bail," she said. "You have to surrender your passport and you should know that all your bank accounts are frozen. How are you fixed for money?"

"Will my credit cards work?" I asked.

She arched an eyebrow at Brown and he cleared his throat. "They're all frozen," he said. "You won't be able to use them."

"Am I going to get my wallet back?" I asked.

"Yes, all your personal effects will be returned," she said. "Not your iPad, I'm afraid. That has become evidence."

"I'm good for money, then, and I'm ready to go. Well, as soon as Agent Brown points me to a restroom, I'm ready," I said.

They gave me an envelope with my stuff in it and I walked out with her. "Come and see me at ten in the morning," she said. She gave me a card and she called cabs for both of us. "Would you like to use my phone to call your wife?" she asked.

I called home and the answering machine picked up. I left a short message, saying my trip had been cancelled, that I'd be home in an hour and gave her back her phone. The cabs showed up and I went home.

When I got there, there was no one home and I made myself something to eat. It was difficult to concentrate, but I managed. I needed to call the kids, figure out where Kelly was and figure some things out.

Daniel and Patricia weren't home either, so I left messages for them to call me. After I ate, I called my boss, John Sinclair. He told me I had been terminated, and that my personal belongings had been boxed and sent to my home. I had lost my trader's license and he was quite certain I would never work in the industry again. In fact, he was looking forward to my receiving a long prison term. Well, that wasn't good. I was now unemployed and facing criminal charges.

Kelly didn't come home that night and when I called her, it went straight to voicemail. I didn't know whether she had heard or what she had heard, but, evidently, she was bailing on me. Great. Now I wondered about the kids. What had they heard? If Kelly had heard, I was sure that she'd talked to them.

I kept my appointment with Ms. Atkins the next morning. She told me we had a lot of paper trails to chase down. This was not going to be quick. "Mr. Cavanaugh, how are you going to pay me for defending you?" she asked.

"If I'm acquitted, that won't be a problem," I told her. "Maybe it would be in your interests to make sure that happens."

She laughed. I liked hearing her laugh, I decided. I was going to try to make her do it often. "We have a big day ahead of us," she said. "Let's get started. What do you think happened and how are you going to help me prove your innocence?"

I asked for a list of the names of the people involved. She told me that they hadn't done discovery yet, so she really didn't have any details. That would come as soon as she could meet with the FBI and the SEC. "I'm afraid I don't have a clue until I know for sure what happened," I told her. "When I have a clear picture, we'll go to work."

We discussed a few more things and I signed a million papers. When we ran out of ink and blank lines for me to sign, I went home. I had a dozen messages on my answering machine. Surprisingly, they were from Kelly and the kids. They were having trouble. They were stranded in Belmopan. Her credit cards weren't working. Well, no surprise there. She had a little money with her but that wasn't going to last. She needed me to help her. Oddly enough, the kids were with her. Their messages were the same, but none of them made any attempt to explain why they were in Belize. Things were getting weird.

I hadn't been home five minutes when the phone rang. It was Kelly.

"Hi, Seldon," she sounded upset. "Listen, honey, I don't have much time. We're stranded in the airport and I need to be able to use my credit cards. Could you call the bank and see what's wrong?"

"I'm afraid that won't do any good," I said. "Kelly, I've been arrested and charged with insider trading. The cards you have won't work."

"Is there any way you could get some money to me?" she asked.

"How much do you think you might need?" I asked.

"Just enough to get tickets home," she said.

"I'll see what I can do," I told her. "All our bank accounts have been frozen."

"Okay, honey," she said. "Please hurry. Thanks for helping us."

That was the strangest conversation I'd ever had. Again, no explanation of why she and the kids were in Belize, no questions about me being arrested, nothing about anything, really. She should have been shocked by every word out of my mouth, but nothing. Maybe it was the lack of time she'd mentioned. I'd answer all the questions when she got back.

Some time back, I'd rented a storage facility. I went there and got into the safe in the cedar chest my mother left me. I took out enough cash to last me until I figured this would all be over. I wired airfare to Kelly and the kids and had a Scotch to sooth my nerves. I sat and thought until bedtime, then I lay awake for a long time, the wheels spinning inside my head.

My phone woke me up in the morning. It was someone from Ms. Atkins office. She'd had discovery and all the information on the case was now available. She had a computer expert coming to go over the information with us and I was expected at 10. I showered and became human, then caught a cab down to her office. Her computer expert turned out to be a very attractive young woman named Laney.

The trail was pretty cold, and I may not be a computer expert, myself, but I do know my way around a computer and between the two of us we managed to discover enough to see that most of the transactions had gone through my home computer that I used only for personal things. That looked pretty bad until we began to make sense of some of the dates and times. Then, things began to look up. It turned out that many of the transactions had taken place when I wasn't even home. I had been out of the country on the date of several and I could see Ms. Atkins starting to believe in me.

"Mr. Cavanaugh, who knows your passwords?" she asked.

"Kelly knows the password on my computer," I said. "The IT people at work would know my business passwords, as well as my supervisors. They wouldn't know my home password."

"Would Kelly know your business passwords?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, I don't give them to anyone, not even her."

It was apparent that somebody, presumably with Kelly's cooperation, was trying to frame me. But, why? Where could Kelly have received the information?

The files were press releases containing information that would be extremely valuable to investors, but the file dates on my computer were generally a week earlier than the date on the press releases. This meant that whoever had access to my computer had information that they could use to make trades before the general public was aware of the news.

Many of the press releases came across the desk of my boss, John Sinclair, but his trades would be scrutinized; if he made trades based on these press releases before their release date, he would quickly be brought up on insider trading charges. So, he was obviously funneling the information to Kelly, so that she could make the trades without raising suspicion.

Why use my computer? Then, it hit me; it was to frame me. John must have used my computer at work when I was away from my desk; when they turned up on routine audits it triggered a search of my home computer, completing my frame-up.

** * * *

I had met Kelly two years earlier, at a work function, accompanying my boss, John Sinclair. I was confused because John was married, and not to Kelly. John read the confusion on my face and had a ready explanation; his wife Lucille wasn't feeling well, so he asked Kelly, a family friend, to come along. I had no reason to doubt him, and found Kelly to be a very charming young woman.

As the evening wore on, she seemed to be spending more time with me than with John. He even asked me if I would mind taking Kelly home so that he could get home to Lucille, and I agreed readily.

Kelly explained that she was a divorcee with two children, Daniel, 18, and Patricia, 16, who were spending the weekend with their father.

We were soon dating on a regular basis. I was puzzled that we rarely saw her children, and when we did, they were quite unpleasant towards me.

After a whirlwind courtship, I asked Kelly to marry me and was thrilled when she accepted, but I was again puzzled that Daniel and Patricia wouldn't come to the wedding.

"Oh," Kelly said, "they're still upset over the divorce."

That puzzled me. We had been dating for almost a year, and I assumed that she had been divorced for some time before that.

I put it out of my mind for the time being and enjoyed the reception, looking ahead to the honeymoon.

When I returned from the bar, I went looking for Kelly and found her on the dance floor with John. They seemed to be dancing a little too close to be appropriate for a bride, so I set down the drinks and went over to them to cut in. They both hesitated for just a split second, almost as if I was intruding, but they quickly separated and I took my bride in my arms and danced the next few dances with her.

Returning to our table, I mentioned to Kelly that she and John were getting very close to the boundary of what is appropriate for the bride at her wedding.

Kelly laughed.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said, "John's just an old family friend; you have nothing to worry about."

She made it all seem so reasonable, but I did notice that Kelly and John seemed to be almost avoiding each other for the rest of the evening.

We left the reception and went to the Honeymoon Suite.

Kelly's wedding gown was strapless and nearly backless. The bodice was a corset that pushed her generous breasts up until they seemed like they would overflow the dress.

When I unzipped her dress and it fell to the floor, her breasts barely sagged and her nipples were already excited and erect. She stood there in just her G-string panties and heels as I shed my clothes.

I took her in my arms and kissed her passionately, our tongues dueling, and I could already smell her arousal. As we kissed, I led her towards the bed until she was sitting on the edge. I knelt down and removed her panties, and her musk was almost over-whelming.

Her shaved pussy was already glowing with her juices as I leaned in and licked up one side and down the other. I spread her lips, probed her pussy with my tongue and began teasing her clit as it came out to play, when she came with her first orgasm of the night.

She wanted to return the favor, but I wanted... I needed to fuck her. I swung her legs up onto the bed and kneeled between them. As I massaged her breasts, I leaned in to kiss her. Before our lips met, she eagerly licked her pussy juice of my face, then we kissed like there was no tomorrow.

She reached down and positioned my cock at her entrance, thrusting her hips up to take me in. I needed no further encouragement and began matching her thrust for thrust.

I wasn't sure who was fucking whom, but it felt so fantastic that I just didn't care, and we were soon coming together.

Kelly pushed me onto my back and sat on my face, facing my feet. I've never been a fan of cream pies, even my own, but I was so turned on that I just went with the flow. She soon bent over and began sucking my gooey cock back to life. When she returned me to duty, she spun around and impaled herself, presenting her breasts for our mutual enjoyment.

We came together again, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, we jetted off to our honeymoon, and all too soon, we returned to reality.

We settled into a more or less normal domestic routine. I swear I thought she was going to fuck me to death, but what a way to go!

Daniel and Patricia were another matter. They refused to even make an attempt at having anything even resembling a relationship with me, and Kelly just kept shrugging it off. I finally accepted that it was what it was, and that, hopefully, it would improve over time.

I came home from work a few weeks later to find Daniel and Patricia sitting in the living room. Getting no greeting from them, I said hello and got a couple of grunts in return.

"Is your mother around?" I asked. Silence.

"I said, is your mother around?"

Daniel remained silent, but Patricia weakened.

"She's upstairs taking a shower," she said.

I just stood there for a moment, and then decided that this bullshit had gone on long enough.

"Look," I said, "you two obviously don't care very much for me, and I guess that not unusual with second marriages; but you guys seem to hate me, and if we're going to be any sort of a family you're going to have to get past it."

More silence, then Patricia spoke out.

"We hate you," she said, "and we're always going to hate you because you broke up our family!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, "Your mother was already divorced when I met her."

"No, she wasn't," Daniel finally spoke, "She didn't file for divorce until you two had been dating for two months. The divorce wasn't final until two weeks before your wedding."

I just stood there stunned. I literally didn't know what to say.

"Kids, I'm sorry, but you have to believe me, your mother told me she was divorced. I would never date a married woman."

"Yeah, right," Daniel said, "That's not what she said, and who are we to believe, our mother or the man that broke up our family?"

They both got up and left the room, Patricia, running out in tears.

'Well,' I thought, 'isn't this a fine kettle of fish!'

I strode upstairs to the master bath and threw back the shower curtain.

"Ooh," Kelly said with a giggle, "aren't you a little over-dressed to join me?"

"This isn't funny, Kelly," I said, barely restraining myself, "The kids just told me that you were still married when we started dating."

"Of course, dear, I told you that, but that we were separated."

"You told me no such thing! You told me that you were divorced. There is no way that I would have dated a married woman, separated or not."

"Whatever, we're together now, and that's all that matters. Now, why don't you get out of those clothes and get in here and wash my back and my... front?"

I was still upset, but what can I say, I'm just a man and I'm weak and she is hot. I stripped down in record time and hopped in, but the events of that day would stay with me for a long time.

Often when I had a quiet moment I would stew on things, but usually I didn't have much time to dwell on it, until one night I was alone at home for an entire evening. I sat in my den, a glass of wine in my hand, and two thoughts crystallized in my brain.

One was what some of my acquaintances would say when discussing guys who dated cheating wives: "She'll cheat with you, she'll cheat on you." While I hadn't seen any obvious signs of Kelly cheating, she did have ample opportunities, like tonight's Girls Night Out.

The other thought was, how closely she had been dancing with John at our wedding. It had been more or less innocent at the time, but now I wasn't so sure.

Then I remembered how we met, when she was on John's arm at the party because Lucille was "ill." It was a stretch, but it was all I had to go on right then.

123
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