[Music] In emergencies, you have to act fast. When someone has cardiac arrest, you perform chest compressions to keep their brain oxygenated until help arrives to defibrillate their heart and restore its rhythm. You stop the bleeding before worrying about a broken bone. I sat on the patio, clueless about what to do first. This was a new situation for me, and I felt blindsided. As a critical care nurse, I honed my observation skills; I could spot subtle signs of a patient’s decline and act swiftly, often saving lives. Yet, I missed the warning signs of my nearly
18-year marriage's demise. I had no intention of saving it; I wanted to end it painfully. After reconsidering, I didn't want innocent parties hurt when I targeted my cheating wife and her lover. I took a sip of beer and thought about my options. Looking around my backyard, the lawn stretched from the patio to the Bayou, with only a few trees. My house, a traditional-style home with modern amenities, was a gift from my father and grandfather when I got engaged. The land had been in my family for generations, and the house was built by my family's construction
company. I chose nursing over joining the business, despite my father's initial disappointment. I could afford some luxuries like a boat and fishing gear and took my family on vacations when I could. Family was my priority, and now their happiness was at risk. Looking around, I saw my sister's identical house next door. I called her over; we needed to talk. “Isn’t it early for a drink, Rob? It's only 2 p.m.,” she said, noticing my beer. “I’m off for the weekend. In the mood,” I replied. She knew my work schedule allowed for frequent time off. I preferred
having a cooler of beer nearby to avoid trips to the fridge. Offering her a drink, she sat down. “So what’s so urgent?” Susan asked. “You told me not to call anyone before talking to you. I found out Bonnie is cheating on me,” I said, my voice shaking. “Are you sure? Maybe it's a cruel joke,” she asked. I nodded; there was a video attached. No doubt who sent it. “I don't know,” I replied. “The email said you should know your wife is cheating; here's proof. The sender was pissed off.” “999!” Susan was furious. “That cheating cow!
Doesn’t she know you’ll destroy her and her lover? Do you know who the guy is?” I nodded, ready to respond, but she cut me off. “If Rich ever cheated on me, I’d destroy him! How does Bonnie even find time to have an affair? She’s home almost every night, except for bachelorette parties, where I'm always present. She works with Rich, and they usually drive together; he would notice if she was having fun.” Susan paused, noticing my shocked expression. “No way!” she exclaimed. “She’s cheating with my husband? They’re cheating on us with each other?” Her face turned
red and tears welled up. “I’m sorry,” I wanted to tell you gently, I said, hugging her. “I’ve had a couple of hours to calm down enough not to grab a weapon.” She cried briefly, then composed herself. “Okay, what do we do? Wait for them and then confront them?” she asked. “I love him, but I'm not tolerating this. We need to be smart,” I said. “Act normal tonight, just like yesterday. We’ll greet them with a kiss.” Susan frowned. “Are you serious? We need a plan! We’ll get legal advice tomorrow. At least we know we haven’t contracted
any STDs,” I added with a smirk to lighten the mood. Susan pointed at me. “Hell no! I didn’t even consider that! You know me—I might joke about becoming a TV star, but I’d never actually do it.” She finished her beer and tossed the can. I handed her another. “And just for the record, I'm not doing anything with Rich. I just got my period,” she laughed. “This will last until we confront those cheaters. He’s not getting anything from me; Bonnie can have him. And we mustn’t let the kids know yet,” I warned. They left for Mom
and Dad's place this morning. They took their time but didn't argue or ask questions; they just got in Jason's car and drove off. The kids—my son Jason, 17; Rob, 16; Dave and Cindy, 16; and my daughter, Dearry, 16—spent the entire summer together. They were more like siblings than cousins, especially during the pandemic when they were always together. Rich had been a good father and uncle, involved in the kids' education and activities. I handled the outdoor fun, teaching them camping, fishing, and hunting. We’d camp in the backyard, then gradually venture deeper into the swamp as the
kids grew; they’d join in fishing trips, often with Rich or Susan driving the second boat. Recently, Rich let his sons handle his boat while he stayed home. The kids learned to be self-reliant, finding their own food on trips and working together as a team. They were tough and valued family and teamwork. Three weeks ago, I rearranged my work schedule to get six days off in a row. I took the girls in one boat, and the boys went in another. We traveled slowly to avoid snags and shallow water, stopping occasionally so everyone could take turns driving.
We spent a week at the old Poo Fish Camp, fishing and catching crabs. We bonded as a family, or so I thought. Apparently, Bonnie and Rich didn’t value family unity. The thought of telling the kids about Bonnie and Rich's affair was heartbreaking. Family was everything to me, and destroying that unity would be unforgivable. I expressed this to Susan. “We can't hide it from them,” she said, “but we can delay it a bit. I'll make sure they don't know anything is wrong. What do we do next?” “I can't forgive or forget infidelity. No.” No matter what
Bonnie says, I replied. Susan agreed. "I can tolerate a lot, but not cheating. I need to figure out how to get rid of her without losing everything. I won't risk jail or let her take the kids. I can't hurt Rich either; I have to be there for the kids." I opened another beer. "I get it. We need to break him financially. I'm going to take every penny I can get: child support, alimony, everything. I agreed Rich earned more, so Susan had a better chance. Bonnie could drive me to the pen, as courts often favor women
in divorce cases. In my job, I handle trusts and wills, but I know enough about the law to say our assets are protected." Susan said, "Our houses are safe. Dad gave them to us before we married, so Bonnie and Rich can't claim them.” "Bonnie might try to stay in your house until the kids are grown," I said, "but she can't claim it. Didn't you and Bonnie sign a prenup? Dad insisted. It said if either party cheated, they'd only get 20% of joint assets and no alimony." Bonnie's father, a wealthy plastic surgeon, had insisted on the
prenup. He wasn't thrilled when I got his daughter pregnant, fearing I'd take half his fortune. My father also made Susan and Rich sign a similar agreement. "I'm worried about that video of Rich and Bonnie," Susan said. "Who filmed it and how? There were at least three cameras." I said, "The video I got showed the same event from different angles, suggesting it wasn't edited. Yet neither Rich nor Bonnie seemed to know they were being recorded." Susan insisted I show her the video on my tablet. "Holy crap!" she exclaimed. Rich and Bonnie's comments in the video about
how Susan and I were clueless infuriated her. "Rich is done, but we need to find out who made the video. I don't want it coming back to haunt us. I don't care if the world sees it, as long as it doesn't affect us." I agreed, suggesting we hold off on a public reaction. Susan sat silently, pondering our next steps, then began to sob. I hugged her, and we both cried, unable to hide our pain anymore. That night, I met Bonnie at the door, hugging and kissing her. I half expected her to pull away, but she
kissed me back. I couldn't detect any trace of aftershave, just her perfume. Despite my anger, I told her dinner was ready. Susan and I had already planned takeout, neither of us wanting to cook. We joked about poisoning our spouses, but it was a way to vent, not a real option. The next morning, I watched Bonnie get into Rich's car. I called Susan. "How'd it go?" "No problem," she replied, joking and planning. "Help me keep my cool. Any idea where they're going tonight?" Susan, always a bit of a loose cannon, needed to vent. We had to
be honest about our feelings. At 10:00 a.m., we were in the office of one of Susan's bosses, Jake, a divorce attorney and an old friend. He agreed to represent us. "Are you sure you have a video showing both parties?" he asked. We assured him we did, but chose not to show it yet. "As long as you have evidence of infidelity, you're good. Your prenuptial agreements are strict. Rob, did you consult a lawyer before signing?" I explained that my father insisted on a legal opinion and Susan used the same document. Jake continued, "The cheater only gets
20% of joint assets, including savings and investments. There are no provisions for personal income accounts. Do either of you have any hidden income?" We shook our heads. "What if Bonnie has money she didn't tell me about?" I asked. "Common property," Jake replied. "Like if you bought something without telling her. Home improvements can be tricky. Your homes are protected because they were gifted before marriage, but things like solar panels might be considered common property." "So she only gets 20% because she's a cheater, right?" I asked. "I'm willing to give her that. We can negotiate the division
of furniture and other items. She'll have to pay for transportation and storage if she wants to take anything." Jake grinned. "These are the games we'll play. The important thing is your ironclad prenups. As long as you prove infidelity, keep the video copies hidden and confidential. If they sue over the video being public, it depends on how it was obtained. Be careful," he emphasized the need for discretion. Susan and I nodded. We had considered editing the video and sharing it with our friends and family, but we were worried about the impact on our children. Now we
were more determined to find out who filmed it. We decided to serve the divorce papers on Thursday at noon, but I suggested waiting until Friday afternoon so they would have to worry all weekend without legal advice. Jake convinced us to stick with Thursday, saying it would save costs and still keep them busy with financial statements all weekend, likely increasing their legal fees. Initially, we wanted to serve them in person to watch their reactions, but Jake advised against it. Instead, we decided to serve them at work in front of their colleagues. After leaving Jake's office, we
went to the bank to transfer money into new accounts in our names only, ensuring we had statements for all accounts we paid off and canceled credit cards, opening new ones in our names only. I checked my email and found three more videos of Bonnie and Rich. I thanked the sender and asked how they got the videos, expressing concern about them going public. I secretly wished they would be released but knew we had to be cautious to avoid a lawsuit. An hour later, I received an email with an address: 9203 Victoria Street, Apartment 2011. I visited
the address and convinced the woman at the counter to give me information by implying the tenant was involved in criminal activities. She gave me the details: the apartment was rented by the insurance company where Rich and Bonnie worked, with Rich's signature on the contract. I wondered how the company would react if they found out we were paying for Rich's affair. Bonnie called me at 12:30, furious about the divorce papers. I calmly told her I knew she had found someone else and was setting her free; we had rehearsed our responses. Bonnie angrily denied the affair, accusing
me of believing rumors and threatening to take everything in the divorce, including custody of the kids, child support, and half of our assets. She suggested Rich could move in with her and I could live with Susan, imagining what they were doing in my house. "Go ahead," I said, "get yourself a lawyer." I barely kept my voice steady, struggling with the regret of my marriage falling apart and anger at her stubborn denial. I hoped Susan hadn't revealed too much to Rich. "By the way, the girls are packing your things," Susan told me. "The boys were told
to pack Rich's; everything will be in front of the house for you to pick up this afternoon. We got a restraining order and changed the locks this morning. You'll have to find another place to stay until the court decides." Bonnie started yelling, so I hung up. Ten minutes later, Susan texted: "Backyard. Bring your cooler; make sure it's full." That fool Rich! She began sipping her beer. He tried to blame it on some secretary's gossip. I told him Bonnie did the same. He denied everything, said we shouldn't believe it. I told him to get his stuff.
"Really?" he asked. I told him to call first because I had a loaded weapon. "Jake will be here soon with two sheriff's deputies to keep things from getting out of hand." I realized having deputies present was smart; Rich might provoke me, and I could end up in jail for assault. I was already in a controlled panic mode, like during emergencies. Susan continued, "I'm glad you talked to the kids earlier. I couldn't have done it without breaking down." We gathered the kids, and I told them what was happening. Surprisingly, they seemed to expect it and started
packing Bonnie and Rich's stuff. "The kids took it surprisingly well; maybe they're in shock or don't realize how it will affect them." My phone beeped with an email. "I wonder if it's from pissed off 999," I said. "Check it," Susan insisted. She showed me how to open it, and we listened to an audio file. "Can you believe Robert and Susan served us?" Bonnie said. "They must have found out somehow." "I can't believe this. Just last night, Robert was so affectionate." "Relax," Rich replied. "They don't know anything. Someone must have gossiped about us having lunch or
driving together. We need to deny everything. If they go through with this divorce, we'll make them pay. I know a lawyer who will help us; just don't admit anything. Act like everything you say is being recorded." After listening, Susan and I were silent. "Okay, let them think we don't know anything," I said. Rich mentioned they've been planning something for a long time; we need to ensure we're protected if they do something illegal. Susan nodded, tears in her eyes. "We have to hold firm." "I know," Susan said quietly. Jake said, "I'm in a better position; courts
favor women, but I can't accept Bonnie getting custody of Jason and Derry and living in your house until Derry turns 18. Even with the prenup, it's terrible if she lives rent-free while you pay child support." I felt the same but hugged Susan as she cried. I assured her we would come out victorious, though I wasn't sure. Divorce is about minimizing losses. The children were silent as Susan and I entered the house. Derry and Cindy were packing Bonnie's clothes into suitcases and bags, now using plastic garbage bags. I asked them to take pictures of the luggage,
planning to apply its value to Bonnie's share of the assets. Next door, the boys were almost done. Rich had fewer clothes, and the boys were stuffing them into bags rather than folding them. I smiled as Rob stuffed a $2,000 suit into a bag. They had my back. Bonnie texted me, and I called Jake, who showed up with two sheriff's deputies. Jake told me to relax and enjoy. Bonnie and Rich arrived with another familiar face: Budro Landry, a bully from elementary school. "Hey, Robert," Budro smirked. "I hear you're having trouble with your wife and son-in-law." No
big deal; if I had a weapon, I would have shot him. Budro was huge, and fighting him wasn't an option. "Hey, Budro," I said. "We're just trying to work it out." "You don't seriously think my boy Rich is with your wife, do you?" Budro asked, grinning. "That's the story," I said. Jake moved closer. "I can't deal with it." Bonnie accused me of taking all the money from our bank account. "Yes, and I have statements showing the original amounts. You'll get what you're owed." She didn't know her credit card would no longer work. Susan and I
didn't accompany Rich and Bonnie into the house. Derry and Cindy followed Bonnie and a deputy, ensuring nothing funny happened. Jason and Rob followed Rich. "Where's my jewelry?" Bonnie asked. This was a major point of contention over the years. I bought her high-quality jewelry worth at least $25,000; most of it was locked in my safe. I took pictures of Bonnie's ring and necklace for insurance purposes. I wanted proof of ownership. Budro started to argue but stopped when I explained I took pictures to prevent the jewelry from going missing. Jake stepped in, suggesting a new... appraisal of
all assets. After consulting with Budro, Bonnie calmly removed her jewelry and handed it to me. "Where am I supposed to go?" you rear, Bonnie asked. I nearly suggested her love nest on Victoria Street but held back. I shrugged, realizing my emotions had shifted. Days ago, I loved this woman; now I felt nothing but anger and coldness toward her. Bonnie and Rich finally left, with Budro following. I wondered if they were heading to the apartment. Jake smiled. "I hope so. We have someone following them. If we reveal the apartment now, it will help our negotiations." Instead,
they went to the Holiday Inn near their office. Cheerfully, I helped them move their things inside. I needed more flash drives for backups of the audio and video files. Susan and the girls were making dinner when my phone beeped with another email. Susan followed me to the computer. "Okay, guys," Bud's voice said. "Someone's probably following Robert. Stay at a motel and get a room with two beds. Make sure both beds look used. The investigator can bribe the maid to check. We'll say you're sharing a room to save money." It was embarrassing when my card was
declined. "Good thing I took extra cash. What's next?" "I'll call the credit card company to open a new account." "Robert's thought about jewelry," Budro continued. "He likely has a list. Protect any hidden assets. Legally, they’re community property, but what Robert and Susan don’t know about, they can’t claim. Don’t hide too much; you might get caught. If you have a secret bank account, make sure it holds only a small amount. Offshore accounts are better; you don’t want to be caught lying under oath." "Now what?" Bonnie asked. "They can find our Baton Rouge accounts." "Screw that," Rich
exclaimed. "We’ll fly to the Cayman Islands and open an account there. Make the room look used. Wet the tissues, ruffle the towels, wet the shower, and use some shampoo. I’ll call the office and say we're off tomorrow." The audio file ended. "Do they have secret bank accounts?" Susan sighed. "Where did the money come from? I see the bank statements; he couldn't have hidden much." I felt bad, too. Bonnie and I got $50 weekly for travel cash, and we both reviewed the credit card statements monthly. I told the apartment woman Rich was into pills and Corisan
as a bluff, but now I wondered: could he be hiding something more? We decided to leave it for tonight, joining the kids for dinner. There wasn't much we could do about hidden bank accounts anyway. The next morning, I drove to Jake's office, having arranged a jewelry appraisal and an estimate for my firearms from a local dealer. Susan went to work briefly, and we met at Jake's office, where I played the audio files from the previous day. "I'd like to know who's sending these," Jake said. "How they bugged Bonnie and Rich in the hotel is beyond
me. A private investigator couldn’t have done it that fast. We might need a judge's order to find their bank account balances, which could mean hiring an investigator." Susan and I shook our heads when asked if we had noticed missing money. "If you want this divorce quickly, like you said, we'll move fast. Next week, we'll meet with Bonnie, Rich, and their lawyer to list assets, then go before a judge. Louisiana's Napoleonic laws make divorce easier, especially with proven infidelity. Counseling won’t help; once the judge rules, you'll wait six months, and it's over." Jake added, "Budro called,
demanding you release an extra 30% of the money you withdrew." I reminded him the prenup states the cheater only gets 20% of assets. He demanded proof of infidelity, which we'll present in court. It was amusing to see him flounder. I'd love to get an audio tape of him advising hiding money offshore into the courtroom. I had to work that weekend; the head nurse, Sharon, couldn’t cover my shifts. "What if I start coughing and need a COVID test?" I asked. "Idiot," Sharon said affectionately. "Yes, I could fill in. You have vacation and sick days saved up.
Take an emergency vacation if needed." "I can't believe Bonnie did this to you. How about I work this weekend and start my vacation on Monday?" I suggested. "Really? Thank you; I owe you one," Sharon said. "I'll start your sick leave and then vacation. Take as much as you need and keep me posted." Working was a welcome relief. Weekends were busy, but ICU staff had to stay alert. I was surprised to see my father-in-law, Dr. Pran, waiting for me at the nurse's station. "Hello, Dr. Pran. What brings you to the ICU?" I greeted him, knowing the
staff would be curious. "Cut the crap and let’s talk," he hissed in the head nurse's office. He asked, "What's this about you kicking Bonnie out?" "She called her mother sobbing. John, I found out Bonnie is having an affair," I said bluntly. "She's cheating on me with my sister's husband. I'm dealing with a family crisis." "It was a rumor started by gossipers at the office," said John. "They commute together and often have lunch together. She told us the rumors about an affair with her boss were just that—rumors." I decided to be open with him despite our
history. "I haven't told anyone except my lawyer and my sister. I haven't even told Bonnie and Rich everything I know, let alone the kids," I said, holding back my emotions. "I have proof: video and audio files. This isn't just a rumor." Dr. Pran looked shocked. "What are you going to do?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer. "What can I do?" I replied. "I'm trying to protect the kids, but I can’t just ignore this. John, what would you do if Bonnie had proof I was cheating?" "Want your head on a platter? I'd help her bury
you," he said honestly, with tears in his eyes. "What about Jason and Deardra? How are they handling it?" he asked. "They're talking more with their cousins and each other than with Susan or me. They seem to be holding up, but they're angry with Bonnie. I told them they need to talk to her, but I don't know if they have. I'm not getting involved in this." "I thought you were overreacting to gossip," JN said softly. "My first priority is to protect Jason and Deardra." I nodded. "And I'll help Bonnie with her physical needs. I don't excuse
her behavior, but if you have irrefutable proof, I accept it. Stay in touch; you're an honorable man." He walked out, shoulders slumped. I felt more sorry for him than for Bonnie. "Wow," Susan said when I got home, "so he knows his daughter isn't so virtuous. We need to tell Mom and Dad soon. How about tomorrow night after your shift? We don't want them to be mad at us for keeping them in the dark." I agreed. The meeting wasn't pleasant. My father only asked if I had proof, and I assured him I did. Like John, he
was more concerned about the kids than us, which I understood. In our culture, children came first, and adults dealt with the consequences of their actions. Children were protected but informed to learn. I received no additional information from my mysterious benefactor, which was fine; I had four explicit videotapes showing Bonnie and Rich, along with audio recordings proving their long-term affair. I didn't need more proof. Bonnie not only cheated but also financially defrauded the family. The mystery of how she saved enough to fly to the Cayman Islands infuriated me. She was a thief and a fraud. Jake
began investigating their accounts, using Social Security numbers and ensuring we could subpoena statements if the money was missing. Some questions were answered the following Wednesday when we met to list our total assets. A court-appointed financial arbitrator reviewed the paperwork I provided—my annual salary and Bonnie's pay stub. Bonnie made $5,000 a month, and my salary varied with overtime, but we earned similar amounts annually. Jake said this would allow for minimal alimony, even without the prenup and infidelity proof. On Monday, the auditor requested income tax returns for the past few years. I found them in our desk,
while Susan had to get copies from her accountant. She was upset that Rich hadn't filed them with other documents. She knew Rich earned about $80,000 compared to her $50,000 and was pleased when Jake said she'd likely get a sizable maintenance payment. Budro entered the conference room with a sullen Rich and Bonnie. Bonnie glared at me, her anger surprising me. I expected an apology, but she remained silent, likely on Bud's advice. Rich struggled to maintain a neutral expression. The court officer introduced himself and his assistant, who took notes and kept an electronic record. "Let's get started.
Your attorneys have forms for you to sign confirming that your statements today are true and may be admitted into evidence. Our goal is to compile a list of all assets and income for the judge to review. We won't discuss prenuptial agreements today regarding car valuation; we'll use the standard Blue Book. If the car your child drives is registered in your name, we can consider it separate from community property if both parties agree. We'll get to the money later." "Let's start with Mr. and Mrs. Fontano," listing automobiles, firearms, the boat, and household goods. It took only
a few minutes; even Bonnie's jewelry wasn't a problem. I had it appraised, and its value exceeded that of my truck and firearms combined. Budro insisted the solar system be considered separately and prepared a document stating its value and depreciation. Jake reviewed it, made a few notes, and nodded. The 401(k) accounts were listed. I asked why, thinking they should be excluded. "No, they count since you've been married over 10 years, but in your case, the values are similar, so it's not a big issue," replied Jake. We then reviewed the checking and savings accounts. Jake entered the
statements showing I had taken 80% of the funds and did the same for Susan and Rich. "It's straightforward," said the auditor. "Mr. Jacobs, there's a big discrepancy between Mrs. Fontano's salary estimate and her tax returns for the last two years." Rich tensed up. "I've estimated each of you earned $600," I explained. "I multiplied her monthly salary by 12." "Yes, but for the last two years, Mrs. Fontano reported an income of $140,000 annually." My incredulity was palpable. "What the hell?" The assistant frowned. "Didn't you look at your tax return?" he asked. I shook my head and
explained that Bonnie and Rich had a new accountant handle our taxes electronically. "I just looked at the small refund we got." Bonnie turned purple. "Her salary includes $80,000 in bonuses each year," Mr. Jacobs said. I looked at Budro, and Mr. Jenkins got $110,000 in bonuses each year, Jacobs continued. Susan asked, "How much extra is that net?" "About $80,000 a year, totaling about $160,000." "So where's the money, Bonnie?" I demanded. "Is that why you went to the Cayman Islands last Friday—to hide it?" Bonnie angrily asked, "How did you find out? Are you following me?" She then
composed herself. "No, I didn't need to," I said. "You did it yourself. Both you and Susan insisted the kids install phone locator apps. Jason and Deardra used it to track you when you didn't answer them on Friday. They saw you reappear near the coast, suggesting you were in the Cayman." Bonnie and Rich looked astonished. They checked your office on Monday and saw you weren't home but in Baton Rouge, likely transferring money into new accounts, I added. Jake spoke up. "Budro, we can..." "Get statements to prove those account balances. It's illegal to hide money offshore to
avoid distributing joint assets. Your clients flew to the Cayman right after hiring you. Hiding assets like this is a felony." Bonnie began to cry, and even Rich looked scared. Buunk's face turned pale, and then he read, "I didn't do anything like that," he declared, looking at the recorder and Jacob’s assistant typing away. Susan asked, "Jake, can we get them to return the money?" Jake nodded. "Yes, we'd get our share in the end, even if we have to confiscate their paychecks. Eighty percent of those accounts will become yours once infidelity is proven in court." "But there's
no money left!" exclaimed Bonnie. "It disappeared when we tried to transfer it." Rich tried to silence her, but she continued, "I think you stole it!" she accused. I looked at her incredulously. "I didn't know for sure about the money until recently. I suspected it, but I had no idea of the amounts." "What are you claiming now? Did you spend it all or lose it?" "Both are nonsense." She explained that they tried to transfer the money electronically at the bank in Grand Cayman, but the transfer was denied. They then went to Baton Rouge to investigate. The
online statement showed the transfer but no routing number or account details. "Provide me with the bank information for the Baton Rouge account, and I will investigate," said Mr. Jacobs. "I can get the results faster and enter them into the court documents." Rich and Bonnie left the room looking dejected. Susan wondered where the money went, and I shrugged, sharing her thoughts. Our case was expedited, likely because Bonnie and Rich had begged Buro to speed things up. They stayed at the Holiday Inn for a week before moving to the apartment on Victoria Street. It amused me to
think about them in their love nest, likely struggling with cash flow and Bu’s fees. All five children insisted on attending the hearing, and I agreed since they were affected by the divorce. Jake explained what to expect. Judge Goody conducted his hearing semi-formally, sitting at the table with us. Jake, Susan, and I sat to Bud's left, with Rich and Bonnie across from us. The kids sat in the gallery following Jake's lead. We stood as the judge entered; he waved for us to sit. "I handle family cases in a semi-formal setting," he explained. "Sit and speak when
I address you. Raise your hand if you want to speak. Be on your best behavior and respectful. If you piss me off, I'll throw you out. Understood?" The kids managed to hold back their laughter at his last statement. "Well, I've reviewed both cases. Normally, we treat these as separate matters, but the evidence and parties involved are the same. Here, a sibling is accused of infidelity. In Louisiana, while infidelity alone isn't grounds for divorce, there are prenuptial agreements that affect property distribution in such cases. Therefore, I'll need irrefutable evidence of infidelity first." "There were discrepancies regarding
monetary assets, with allegations of hiding funds. My investigation shows Mrs. Fontano and Mr. Jenkins have bank accounts in Baton Rouge with balances of $120,000 and $160,000, respectively. The entire balance was transferred from these accounts the Monday before the divorce petition was filed. The correct passwords and security questions were used, indicating the transfers were made by Mrs. Fno and Mr. Jenkins or someone they authorized. Further investigation revealed the money was split evenly among five accounts belonging to their children: Jason and Dear Danto, and Robert, Dave, and Cynthia Jenkins. These transfers are legal under the Uniform Gifts
to Minors Act. The accounts were set up years ago, likely for college or income in the event of a parent's passing." I was stunned. Why was Bonnie making such a fuss if she had given the money to her children? The judge continued, "The parents showed responsibility, if not remorse, by giving the money to their children. Such deposits are non-refundable unless fraud is proven. Does anyone have proof of fraud?" I was thrilled. While I would have liked my 80%, knowing the money was divided among the children was satisfying. Rich and Bonnie looked shocked, suspecting we had
outsmarted them. When Judge Goody asked if we had proof of fraud, we all shook our heads and said, "No, Your Honor." They seemed terrified of possible charges for hiding money overseas. None of them appeared willing to rebut the judge's remarks. "The next matter is the establishment of custody of the minor children," the judge said. My daughter, Dearra, raised her hand. "Yes, Your Honor. I read that children 15 and older can choose which parent to live with," she said. "In some states, yes. In Louisiana, I consider the children's opinions after speaking to them privately," Judge Goody
replied. Dearra stood and stated, "I don't need to talk privately. My mother cheated on my father and our entire family. I want to live with my dad." Jason stood up and agreed. Robert, Dave, and Cindy also stood, stating they wanted to live with their mother for the same reason. My heart raced under the table as I squeezed Susan's hand. "I will consider your wishes," Judge Goody said with a half-smile, "but it hasn't yet been established that there was, as you put it, treason." Dearra raised her hand again, and the judge turned to her. "I also
read that a 16-year-old can petition the court for emancipation and 17-year-olds can leave home without a petition." "Yes," the judge replied. "The 17-year-old rule is an old law for young men wanting to enlist in the military without parental consent. For a 16-year-old to petition for emancipation, they must be able to support themselves. Is that clear?" Dearra nodded. "I have a college fund with another $56,000 added to it, plus what my parents and grandparents contributed." Cindy stood up. "Me too!" We have plenty of money to live on our own for a long time. Her brother, Dave,
stood and smiled. "Me too! We could rent a nice place together." Jason and Rob stood up and said that if they pooled their money, all five could live fine on their own. I glanced at the judge, who seemed to suppress a laugh. "Let me guess: if I don't go along with your wishes, you'll all petition for emancipation or leave on your own?" The five heads nodded. "Sit down," he commanded. "I'll consider what you said. There's an allegation of infidelity in this case, which affects the prenuptial agreement and property distribution, so I'm going to ask for
evidence of infidelity." Jake stood up. "Your Honor, I have these pictures of Richard Jenkins and Bonnie Font together." Budro objected. "Anyone can alter photos! I have a picture of me shaking hands with the president and another of us playing golf made by my son as a joke." "Defense counsel hasn't identified the source of this evidence," Judge Goody looked at Jake, then at Susan and me. Jake nodded for me to respond. "Your Honor, the evidence came from an anonymous source. I received several video and audio files and took these screenshots from one of the videos. I
have the full video on a DVD and thumb drive." I looked at Rich and Bonnie, who appeared shocked and agitated, shaking their heads in disbelief. Judge Goody observed their reactions, noting their purple faces in clear distress. "Okay, do I need to reproduce the file Mr. Fontano provided, or do all parties agree that infidelity occurred?" Judge Goody asked. Budro wanted to see the footage, but when Bonnie and Rich quickly pleaded with the judge not to show the video, he backtracked. "Uh, could you spare a minute for my clients, Your Honor?" After consulting with them, he reluctantly
said, "We agree with the plaintiff's claims." "Well, in that case, I will announce my verdict," said Judge Goody. "Since all parties agree infidelity occurred, the marriage contracts will be honored in each case." Susan and I were awarded 80% of the community property. Judge Goody suggested we discuss the actual distribution with our attorneys to avoid court involvement in the details. "For custodial parents, I grant Robert Fontano full custody of Jason and Deanna Fontano, and Susan Jenkins custody of Cynthia. Robert and David Jenkins are as requested. The non-custodial parents have full visitation rights. Legally, the divorce will
be finalized in six months. The increased incomes require Bonnie to pay me $1,000 a month and Rich to pay Susan $2,000 a month for the next three years. Each dependent child will receive $500 a month until they turn 18." Jake said the payments were minimal and suggested we could appeal, but I decided against it, and Susan followed my lead. After the judge ended the hearing, we left. Jake said he would arrange a meeting to work out property distribution details. I told the kids to go home, change, and wait for me for a family meeting. Susan
and I walked to the back of the courtroom, where my father was waiting. "So, when did you figure it out, Dad?" I asked. Susan looked puzzled. "It hit me when Deanna and Cindy made those comments about the video," I said to Susan, pissed off. "999 is a personality the kids invented." Susan's mouth dropped open. "No!" Dad said, "I figured it out a few days ago when I saw an old credit card bill. Jason and Rob asked me two months ago for a credit card to plan something special for your anniversary. They promised to reimburse me
about $500. The statement showed a purchase from an electronics company. Initially, I didn't pay attention, but when I called the company, they revealed the kids bought cell phone bugs." "The kids spent $500 on spy devices?" I asked. "Yes, apparently they were expensive. Dad didn't know where they got the video cameras," he followed me home to find out more. All five children were waiting in the living room. They fell silent as we walked in. "Go to the kitchen and sit down," I said. Susan grabbed three beers, handing one to Dad and me. Jason and Rob held
out their hands, grinning. "You may be old enough to be spies, but not old enough to drink," I said. They shrugged, knowing I wasn't angry. "Okay, who wants to start?" "Let’s begin at the beginning," Deanna began. "It all started when Cindy and I stopped by my mom's office, and she wasn't there. Neither was Uncle Rich. This was around the time they began phase two of the COVID lockdown. We thought we could get some money from one of them to see a movie. The receptionist said they were out and had left long ago. It was well
past lunchtime, so we decided to track them. You know we have a locator feature my mom insisted on installing on our phones—it showed they were at a strange address, so we checked it out. It was an apartment building. When we arrived, we saw Uncle Rich's car and waited. They came out later, walking hand in hand and smiling. That got us thinking, so we started tracking where they went over the next few days. For three days straight, they returned to the same place and stayed for about an hour and a half each time. Sometimes they went
there late at night, after work but before going home. We told the boys about it." Rob continued, "We searched the internet and found bugs you can insert into cell phones. After downloading an app, it works like a continuous phone call in the background and doesn't interfere with regular calls; it does drain the battery a bit faster. It transmits all the sounds around the phone so you can eavesdrop." We talked Pop into letting us use his credit card to... "Buy them. Sorry, we lied a bit, pal. Installing the bugs in the app on their phones was
easy. We took turns checking them and eavesdropping on conversations; we recorded anything interesting to share later. So that's clear with the audio recordings. "But how did you get the video and find out which apartment they used?" I asked. "We looked at their keys. They both had a key marked '2011.' That's not their office number, so Jason copied his mom's key. We went into the apartment a couple of times and looked around. We decided we needed cameras," Dearra explained. "So we bought a few and a small transmitter. Added Dave; that was pretty cool. The boy was
excited about the technology; he didn't notice he was describing the end of several marriages and the breakup of two families. At least Susan and I got some answers. "The cameras were motion-sensitive, so they didn't burn too many batteries. We hid the receiver under the couch. The receiver got information from the cameras and transmitted it to our receiver; we recorded it. It seemed simple. "So you took a video of Bonnie and Rich doing it? You also recorded audio files and sent some to me?" I spoke carefully. These were my kids, my nephews and nieces; I couldn't
ruin my relationship with them. But there was another issue: money. "Dad, when Cindy and I first looked at that apartment, I realized our mom was gone," Dearra stated. "Well, not gone, but not back to where our family used to be. They had clothes stashed away, and Mom had some outfits I recognized. She had a makeup kit, towels, and washcloths too. We knew what they were doing; they'd work out, clean up, and then come home to you and Aunt Sue like nothing had happened. We were all furious! They weren't just cheating you and Aunt Sue; they
were cheating us! "Now about the money, the secret bank accounts were a side issue," Cindy said. "When we looked around the apartment, we found some bank account papers. There were instructions on how to access it online. It took a while to find the actual accounts. We even spent time in Dad and Aunt Bonnie's offices, peeking in on them a couple of times. The receptionist let us in to wait for them; she giggled. We looked through a bunch of folders and finally found one in the bottom drawer of Dad's desk with some applications. Then we looked
in Aunt Bonnie's office and found more papers. Aunt Bonnie had a small notebook in her purse with passwords and stuff in it. It didn't say 'secret bank account,' but we could tell the password was unusual—much more so than the one she uses for her cell phone. And it worked! It took a while, but eventually, we realized it was the right password—they were using the same password for both accounts. "Jason took control of the situation; we already knew they were up to something shady when we discovered their hidden bank accounts. We got really angry. We wondered
if they were dealing pills or embezzling money. Dave was the one who came up with the idea of putting money in our accounts." Dave blushed. "Actually," I said, "we can't let Dad and Aunt Bonnie get rich and leave us hanging. We read about dividing assets in a divorce, and we didn't like the idea of them keeping half the money either. We had accounts set up by Pow Wow, and I thought maybe we should take all the money. I thought the cops might catch us, but since we were minors and it was our parents' money, we
wouldn't get in serious trouble. We thought it might work, so we did it. "If we'd known about the 80/20 share, we probably wouldn't have taken it," Dearra said regretfully. "It actually worked out better that way." "And then you guys started sending me video and audio files," I said, looking around the table. I was at least a little relieved to see an expression of restraint rather than outright pride. "That was the hardest part," Jason said quietly. "We were really, really mad at Mom and Uncle Rich for what they were doing to all of us. We didn't
want to hurt you and Aunt Sue, but we couldn't do anything, so we sent you that first video. We kept trying to get you to visit Mom and Dad. We knew you were upset. If you pulled a weapon out of the safe, we would have told you everything we knew. You'd tell Aunt Sue. We kind of moved on. We already moved the money that Mom hid. I think we stole it. Well, I know we stole it, but we figured they cheated us, so it was only fair. I hope you and Aunt Sue weren't too upset."
I looked at Susan, who had a look of amazement on her face from the start. "I hope you kids never get mad at me and Sue," I said with a smile. "But if you ever nail me like you did your mother and Rich, I'll punch you! The loss of life—even if it's with my walker in a nursing home!" They all chuckled at my threat. "You'll never have to worry about that, Daddy," Dearra said. "You'll never let the family down. We cinjun stick together." "One thing I don't understand," my dad said. "You bought cell phone bugs
with my credit card? They were awfully expensive. Where did you get the money for the video cameras?" "From them. Yeah, they cost about $500 for each camera because they shot full video with sound and had built-in motion and sound detectors. We got five of them," replied Jason. "Plus another $500 each for a hidden transmitter that sent a signal to a receiver we hooked up to Dearra's computer. That's a total of..." $3,500 plus shipping, but we can get half of that money back if we return it undamaged. We already pulled all the cameras and the transmitter;
we probably lost the cell phone bugs, though. As for the credit card, we used Dad's Visa card; I didn't have a Visa card, I said. So we do now. I applied for it and forged your signature, said Jason. At least he was honest enough not to look guilty. It has a $10,000 limit. We bring in the mail every day, so hiding it was easy. Added Dearry, Cindy and I set up an email account: pissedoff999. Rob came up with the name; he said what Mom and Uncle Rich did made him mad. The kids smiled and nodded,
seeing that Susan, Dad, and I were really impressed. So the bugs in the cell phones are still active? I asked. Dave nodded. Yes, they work as long as the cell phone batteries are charged. Thanks to that and the phone location app, we know where they are and what they are doing at all times, said Dave. He was thrilled when he realized they weren't in trouble. If one of them is talking on their cell phone, we can hear it. It's voice-activated, so it's a lot of car sounds and business talk. We took turns going through the
files to pick out anything important. I demanded access to the audio recording. As a result, Susan and I had advanced knowledge of Bonnie and Rich's demands at the property division meeting. Bonnie was so eager to get her jewelry that she gave me most of the cash and all of the housewares. We granted some of their requests without much argument, but we made them grovel during the process. Susan shocked everyone except me when she suggested they walk across town with signs on their heads saying, "We cheated on our spouses." The alternative was to appeal the amount
of alimony and child support. I thought Bud's eyes would pop out of his head at that threat. We heard Budro tell them they got off easy on the child support payments and warned them that Susan and I would likely appeal the amounts. Susan eventually recanted, forcing them both to apologize on their knees. I don't know exactly how it happened, and I'm willing to swear on a stack of Bibles that I had nothing to do with it. Somehow, two months after our hearing, the insurance company that Bonnie and Rich worked for found out that he had
rented an apartment for a love nest with company funds. Although everyone in the office had gotten premiums for the past two years, for some reason, Bonnie had them much higher than usual each year. Rich managed to get big bonuses too; no one ever figured out why. When all this got out, he and Bonnie were fired. No big deal; the company didn't want any publicity. None of the videos ever made it to the internet. Susan and I couldn't have cared less, and we joked over beers that it would have been fun to make them stars, but
the kids didn't want to publicly embarrass themselves. We understood their point of view. Bonnie and Rich now live in New Orleans, working for a small shipping company. Since leaving town, they hardly ever visit the kids, and they rarely even call. Last I heard, they are having a very difficult time paying child support and alimony. I wish them well. Well, maybe not. [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music]
