As some of you may or may not know, #6 is out.
My sister was here from Montana last week to close out my Grandfathers estate. Because it was time to settle the bank accounts and Mike was going to be found out, when he picked her up from the airport he fessed up to her that he had been taking money from the estate account since March. He told her it was to pay for my medical bills from my shoulder surgery last fall. He told her that insurance wouldn't pay because it was the second time I had the procedure on that shoulder. He said that collection agents were calling and threatening to garnish his wages and he didn't want me to know.
Three days later, on Monday morning, my Mom came to the farm and they all three sat around me like they were either going to tell me there had been a death in the family or they were sending me to fat camp. Either way, from the look on their faces I knew the news was going to be bad.
As soon as the words were out, I knew it was a lie. I knew there were no medical bills, we have great insurance, and wouldn't I have had some idea. Looking at Mike, I knew there was more to the story, but he wasn't talking. At that point, my Mom and Sister were somewhat defending him and kept telling me not to be so "hard on him" and that we could get through this. I kept looking at him wanting to scream and punch him in the face. He was crying and saying how sorry he was, he said he did the only thing he could think of to take care of things and he never wanted to upset me. That made me want to punch him even more.
Wendy showed up about a half hour into things. She couldn't believe what was happening either, but suggested that if I didn't believe him to call the hospital and doctors office. You see, Mike told us he got rid of all the bills, didn't keep any receipts of payment and wrote the checks for cash or to himself so I wouldn't find out about the bills and "worry." So thats what I did. I made phone calls, only to find out what I had assumed was correct. All the bills had been paid in full by insurance. Mike had stolen the money.
It turned out that the last check he wrote himself was the morning he picked my sister up at the airport. He had cleaned out the entire account. The checks I wrote for October farm upkeep had all been returned. There was no money. He had also stolen from the new account I opened for the rental spaces, had been taking cash advances from our checking account, cleaned out our savings account and been regularly taking payday loans.
I know your thinking to yourself, where did the money go? We don't know. As far as we can figure out it went to Slurpees and chewing tobacco.
By the time we were getting to the bottom of this, my sister had gone to the attorney and Mike had taken two Lorazepams and gone to bed. I wanted to go beat him in the bed with a baseball bat, but decided to call the sheriff and have him arrested instead. The sheriffs office said they were in the middle of a transport, but would send a deputy out as soon as one was available. Lucky for Mike, my sister got home first and told me to call off the sheriff because if he were arrested the farm would never be paid back.
Mike is now living in the little house across the driveway from me. He cries all the time like a child who broke the neighbors window with his baseball.
I want to throw up every time I look at him.
I look around my house and see the things that were paid for with money stolen from my family. Wyatt cries because he thinks his toys are all "stolen," and I now refer to our new puppy as the "hot dog" because I don't believe that when when you mix stolen money with your own money there is a line of what is yours and what is not. I will never again go on blind faith that everything is "o.k" or believe someone because they assure me that I can.
I feel so stupid.
I feel so betrayed.
And that my friends, is the rest of the story.
