The thunder growled like a lioness after the kill. An announcement of the conquest. Adrian shivered slightly in his thin t-shirt and turned to his dresser to find a sweater. It was one of those dank spring days where you were too warm, too sticky, too cold, and downright uncomfortable all day. He settled on a cotton, butter yellow v-neck sweater that Natalie had presented him with the week before. She'd been buying him clothes all month. Like he was her child, or, he thought as he bit the inside of his cheek, her husband. Each item was presented to him with excitement, and he could tell from her expression of hope that he'd be excited too. He was. Excited. In all the wrong ways. The past four weeks had taught him that "playing house" with Natalie was going to be both his greatest joy and his greatest heartache for the next forty-eight weeks. He loved that she continually found ways to surprise and please him, especially now that money was no object, and the delight that she seemed to get from it was almost the same as the delight he took in receiving it.
Not that he hadn't done a few extraordinary things himself in the last four weeks. Fresh flowers in her bedroom every few days. He surprised her with a gift he knew she'd wanted from the moment she saw the big kitchen window. A "smart garden" in a gaily decorated bag. He had "Natalie's Herb Garden" painted on the little white indoor window box lit with a grow light that contained seeds for Dill, Basil, Chives, Thyme, Parsley, Oregano, Cilantro, Sage, & Mustard. She'd made a huge fuss over it and immediately went to work reading directions, planting, and telling him what she'd cook with each of the herbs. Her joy at receiving a gift from him was palpable, and all he'd wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her when she smiled her thanks and pleasure. Forty-eight weeks. Three hundred thirty-six days, eight thousand sixty-four hours, four hundred eighty-three thousand, eight hundred forty minutes. How would he continue to contain himself?
Today was one month, and they had to be at Martin Douglas' office in an hour with their receipts. They'd done it; at least, they believed they had as of yesterday. There was now a ridiculously shiny Bentley next to Natalie's BMW in the garage. Adrian had bought himself a car. One that eventually he'd have to drive. But right now, he looked at the deep indigo addition to his life as an idea rather than a reality, although Natalie insisted that at least she be allowed to drive it today. He readily agreed since it made her smile that way. He'd agree to practically anything if she only kept looking at him with that smile. Natalie grabbed the keys to the dark blue car from his outstretched hand and sprinted out the door. He had to smile at her enthusiasm; she really was happy. Maybe because she'd gotten back the life she'd left behind all those years before. Perhaps she secretly missed the money, the prestige, and the ease that money brought to life. She never complained in significant ways all these years. She never really commented on what she'd lost when she'd married Mitch, except in a very matter-of-fact way. Mostly she talked about the joy they had together. And their happiness in having Julie.
Years ago, Natalie and he argued about her pay and expenses… but that was warranted. He had been quite miserly back then. Adrian could admit it now. Mostly it was reflexive… fear of being nearly bankrupted again added to the fact that he wasn't paid very regularly until Natalie came along. Within a year of working for him, she made the SFPD put him on a retainer. Yet, the residual fear made him wary of spending money. Until he had started to feel safe again. Whole again. He turned back to Natalie and watched her run her hands over the hand-stitched leather of the steering wheel with just a little glee. Maybe, just maybe, there was a little bit of a wealthy princess in her after all, Monk concluded. He smirked a little because he liked that idea and harbored a secret wish to indulge her every desire.
They settled into the refined luxury of the car, and both sighed. The soft cream-colored leather enveloped them as they clicked their seatbelts. Then they looked at each other and chuckled. The finer things sure were easy to get used to. Natalie carefully backed out of the driveway and onto Briarcliff Terrace. They were on their way.
𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ
Martin Douglas and an accountant met them in the conference room this time instead of Douglas' plush office. Polly had politely led them there and asked them to wait. This was all business, no more nicey-nice meeting with fancy bakery cookies and coffee. Natalie and Monk sat side by side as the accountant went through each receipt, tallying as he went. He added and looked carefully at the dates of the receipts. He asked them questions, as did Mr. Douglas. They had pictures attached to the receipts as stipulated in their paperwork. After about eighty minutes, the accountant and Mr. Douglas left the room to confer.
Adrian and Natalie sat silently, waiting. Natalie nervously drummed her fingers on the table. Monk's stillness was unnerving at the best of times; right now, it was driving her insane. She wished he'd show some outward sign of his inner feelings. He had to be as nervous as she. She caught his eye, and there she saw it, a slight glint of worry mixed with impatience. Thank god, he was human. She smiled a small, rueful smile at him, and the door opened suddenly.
"Congratulations, Mr. Monk, Ms. Teeger. You've satisfied the first conditions of Mr. Biederbeck's bequest."
"Thank you," Natalie said quietly. She was actually jubilant but refused to give an inch to this man who would stoop to work for Dale the Whale or for anyone associated with him.
"As for the next eleven months, you will each have $25,000 to use however you see fit, and you may begin to draw up plans for how you want to move forward with the various businesses, holdings, properties, etc. Then, as we get closer to the end of the fifty-two-week mark, we can execute any plans you wish to enact immediately.
"Alright," Adrian said, "But we are not financial experts. So may we consult with business managers, our own attorneys and accountants, or investment managers if we don't tell them the extent of the agreement?"
"I can't see where that would be a problem. Let me make a call, and I will be right back."
When the man left again, Natalie began to speak, but Monk held his finger to his lips and winked at Natalie. She was shocked. Monk never winked. But she held her tongue.
"Mr. Monk, Ms. Teeger," Douglas said as he came back into the conference room, "Consulting with professional money and business managers, as long as they aren't related to you or your friends, shouldn't be a problem. Please ensure you keep all correspondence and phone records, just in case there is any doubt."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Adrian replied calmly. "I don't think we know a single person in either field at the moment, so they will definitely be strangers." He turned to Natalie with a shrug, and Natalie nodded briskly in agreement, still silent.
"Terrific, well, we will see you next month. If you will excuse me, I have another appointment shortly. Have a great day."
Natalie gathered the folio of receipts and photos along with her purse. Adrian guided them out the door and onto the elevator. He suspended his elevator phobia long enough to quickly get them out of the building and into his car.
"Let's go to Golden Gate Park. Now." He said tersely and without explanation.
Natalie didn't argue; the look in his eyes prohibited it, so she just drove. She remained uncharacteristically quiet. She just hummed along to the music from the excellent stereo. When they reached the parking area nearest the deYoung museum, Adrian said, "Let's park by the museum; I'm in the mood for art," but then covered her hand with his, shook his head, and gestured for her to continue down the road. Adrian pointed urgently when they reached the turn-off for the Conservatory of Flowers. They parked and got out of the car. Gently, Adrian lifted her purse from her shoulder and locked it in the trunk. Then, Adrian practically dragged her to the bench near the entrance. The earlier drizzle had cleared, and he escorted her to a dry-looking bench.
"Adrian! What is going on?" Natalie breathlessly asked at last.
He looked around them; they were surrounded by a riot of vines and flowers. "I had a thought when we were in the conference room." He stood and looked around again. "What if they managed to bug the house, the phones, your purse, and the cars? Not that we've done anything wrong so far, but what if we make a mistake?"
"How? How could they have done that? We just picked up your car yesterday."
"Bribery? Chicanery? Also, about a thousand people are working in and around the house right now. All of them are strangers. We left the car in the parking garage at the law firm with the valet for over an hour just now…."
Natalie sat, stunned into silence. He was right; it was possible. "What are we going to do?"
"I have a couple of ideas. But we need help."
"Who is going to help us? Who can help us?" Natalie wondered.
"One person. Discreetly. Without knowing exactly why."
"Do you think we can pull it off?"
"I hope so. Let's go see Leland."
𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ
Under the guise of working on their latest case, Natalie and Adrian joined Leland in his office and began their discussion of the case. Meanwhile, Adrian started handing Leland sheets of paper from a new pad he'd just purchased on the way to the station. Natalie thought that had been a bit of an overreaction but went along with Adrian's new James Bond-level paranoia.
"Read this and do not acknowledge that I handed you a piece of paper. Your office might be bugged," the paper read. Leland frowned.
"I think this case relates to one from a few months ago. I wish I could connect them. That's why we're here." Adrian was saying but was shaking his head vigorously, and Leland's eyes were wide with shock.
The next sheet of paper read, "We're into something we can't explain or talk about, but we need to see if the new house is being bugged. The new cars, this office… we need to find out if we're being spied on."
Leland covered admirably. "Well, why don't we go down to the computers in the records room and use the computer to put in the crime parameters. Then, maybe something will pop."
Adrian genuinely smiled at Leland. Finally, his friend had caught on and was ready to help - no questions asked. They could have used his computer for the task, but the records room was private, secure and interior to the building. Most importantly, it was monitored by police personnel and not open to the public. Adrian turned to Natalie and tilted his head. The three exited Leland's office and hurried downstairs. Luckily, Randy was nowhere to be seen, and they managed to avoid the other people they knew best in the squad room.