Divorced! Now what?
Chapter 175

Jacko POV

Inside Kitty's bag was a tablet. It was locked with a password; a secret Kitty believed was impenetrable. Yet, she permitted me to delve into her personal belongings. I had snatched the bag from the side table in the hallway of her home, my heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. What hidden truths could this device hold? The password was easy. "Wedding s" I got it at first go. It was like opening that black book that belonged to Horandeze, It had the dates of each fake wedding, who was involved, and kindly took photos of the wedding couple. It was very detailed, and I would have fun matching it all up with what we already had and putting faces to the names on the whiteboards. But this was just the beginning. There was more to uncover, more to understand. I will hand it over to the team once I have looked at it, but only after I've unraveled its secrets.

I also found it interesting that Margaret, a well-known chef, dances at night on the weekends. You would think that was when the restaurant would be busiest. It did not make sense to me. She would appear the least likely to be an exotic dancer. Yes, she had the shape for it, but a chef? That was a perfect cover for her. This tablet has the proof of the nights she danced for the syndicate and who took her away for the night. Then, for the part Kitty did, what extra special guests were there, how many girls she had supplied, and the clothes she had made, she expected to be paid for it all, including her two daughters when they worked for the syndicate. Did her daughters know she got paid for them, too?

Hank phoned to say Cindy was home. I was unsure if he would contact me when she came home, but it was a risk I was willing to take asking him to contact me. I took two men with me, and we went to Hank's home to collect her. Hank looked like he was holding up okay. It was good to see Bob, Pam, Theo, and Bethany there to give him moral support during this challenging time; I wish I had better news for him.

Cindy had changed into jeans and a blouse, her hair still wet from a shower. She sat at the table eating the leftover pizza, oblivious to why my men and I were there. She looked around the kitchen at those present but still did not catch on.

'He Jacko, do you have time for a coffee?' Pam asked, breaking the tension that had grown since we walked into the room.

'Thank you, but I am here on official business. Cindy, we would like you to accompany us to the precinct and answer a few questions.' I tried to be polite out of respect for those in the room, but it was not how I felt inside. She looked at me, shocked, and then at the man who took his handcuffs out, and then at Hank, who was looking at her with sadness. Something he could not hide from his face.

'Dad?' She asked before my man approached her.

'You had best go with them, sweetheart. I have already been questioned. She nodded her head in acceptance and turned to let the man handcuff her.

One of my men read Cindy her rights and cuffed her. I watched Hank. His eyes looked watery. I think he was hoping the baby of the family was his, and seeing one he had loved so much be hauled away in handcuffs had to be hard on him.

'I will keep you posted on how things go with the ladies. I offered Hank.

'No, at the moment, I do not wish to know. I will find out later when I am ready to ask the hard questions; I want to get past all of this for now. Kitty and I have not been on good terms for years, and I am relieved in some ways that I was never married to her, saving me from going through a divorce. Don't worry, and I won't fade away and become a hermit. I might follow Bob's example and look for a good woman. I know there are a lot of nice ones out there. Hank sounded optimistic and took this much better than I expected; having a not-too-happy marriage would do that for you.

I left his home and took the back seat. Sitting next to Cindy, she was a pretty young girl; if I were into girls, she would be appealing. Cindy never said a word the whole trip to the precinct and sat silent when placed in the interview room. She was the opposite of her sister, who chatted nonstop.

Cindy did not give much away, as she was interviewed, but we did catch her when we told her we knew she was sleeping with Peter, Cynthia's husband, and if she had arranged to have Cynthia beaten after each night she had slept with him. I found that interesting and was itching to ask Peter about it later.

'No. Peter said. Cynthia married him to keep Wendy under control. But it backfired on him, and each time he saw her, he wanted her dead. But if she died at his hands, he would have his boss after him. He was the one to have Bret fake marry her. Bret had no idea at first that Peter was the one legally married to her; he loved Cynthia so much he would have married her even if he knew he was not really married to her. He knew he was fake married to Bethany. She is the reason all of this had fallen into a heap. Do you have Margaret and Mother here too?' This one had brains, not like Margaret; no wonder Peter preferred this one; she was one to keep her mouth such. The rest of the interview gave me nothing I wanted. Tomorrow, bright and early, will be Kitty's turn.

My night was spent in the arms of my wife. He is six feet tall and full of bulging muscles. We work out together. If you did not know, looking at us, you would not think of us as a couple in public. Neither of us was the touchy-feely type, but behind closed doors, we could not get enough of each other. He is a gym instructor, owning the gym I go to daily to work out. That was where I met him. He was helping me through a new set of exercises, and we kept saying words that led to inviting him home for dinner. I cooked for him, which I only do a little; the takeaway from a good restaurant is my usual meal. One thing led to another, and by the end of the night, we were in bed together, and I gave him the ride of his life. We have been together ever since. It has been six fantastic years. I arrived home and opened the garage door to the most mouthwatering smell. My wife was cooking. I love it when he cooks. He is way better at it than me. The table was set for two; my favorite music was on low. I followed the sounds of his husky voice singing the song and snuck up behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and kissed his neck lovingly. He groaned and wiggled his bottom against my groin, and as he would have expected, I grew hard immediately. This man knows what to do to get me going. 'Go wash up, and food is almost ready.' I wanted to protest, but he was right; I was gross from my day at work and taking him here. In the kitchen, this would be an insult to him.

I quickly complied with his request. My mood had improved since walking through the door. He was cooking my favorite food and playing my preferred music, and the table set was all nice. I think I am in for a wild night tonight. It was as if he knew I needed a break from a complex investigation, and tomorrow would be the icing on the cake, the last piece of the puzzle. I could feel it in my gut.

We can finally get all these people to court and get it over with.

I hope that the gang wars do not spill over to the public and that they keep it within their own circle.