The Trouble With Cash

Chapter 1I looked out the window and wondered how I ended up alone in a cheap hotel in this rain-soaked banana republic one step ahead of the police and hiding from a guy who had a contract to break both, not just one, but both of my legs. I was normally a law-abiding guy but it had become apparent that I wasn't above resorting to extortion to get what I wanted. Not to mention falsifying evidence, lying to the police and aiding a fugitive. All I wanted to do was to get the hell out of there and back home where I could enjoy my retirement a free man with sound legs. It all started about three months ago when we decided to sell our house in Costa Rica. Who could have known things would go so terribly wrong? We had built Vista Linda ten years ago. That's the name we gave it because of the breathtaking view over the south central Pacific. We had just retired, and were thinking we might move there full time. But we never did. At first, we were spending almost half the year there. We enjoyed it and made some good friends. But as the years went by we visited less and less. Finally we started renting it out occasionally to defray the costs. Now it was rented out full time. When we went to visit, which was seldom, we stayed in the guest house. Liz was basically back working full time. She had spent her career as a high school guidance counselor but, after she retired, she got the itch to do something else. She started volunteering occasionally as a counselor at the d**g rehab clinic in Regent Park. She was very good at it and before long she was working full-time. Although she didn't collect a salary, she found it extremely rewarding. I had retired from my job as an investment advisor when I was fifty-five as our small brokerage firm was bought by a bank. Now I was spending most of my time maintaining our house in Toronto's Beach district. It was an older two story brick house with a big front porch, typical of the early 1900's. I also imported a bit of coffee from Costa Rica and sold it to various boutique coffee shops and roasters around the city. I had gotten to know some of the coffee growers around southern Costa Rica and it allowed me to write off my trips there if nothing else. “How about you take a week off work and we go to Costa Rica together?” I said. “We will need to get things organized before we sell the house.” It was eight o'clock Tuesday morning and Liz was finishing her coffee before heading off to work. “I'd like that,” she said. “I haven't been there in a dog's age. But I don't know. When were you thinking of going?” “Whatever works for you? You've been going like crazy and you could use a break from the clinic.” “I certainly could but the only time I could get away is next week. After that I have a young patient returning from detox and I want to be around to keep an eye on her.” “All right then, let's make it next week for sure. I'll call Lydia and see if she is available to watch Anny,” I said. On hearing her name, Anny woke up from her snooze and looked at me. “Did you hear us talking about you?” asked Liz. Anny came over to her wagging her tail and put her head on Liz's knee. Liz patted her for a while before she walked back to her bed by the kitchen door, circled three times and lay back down. “Who's the patient? Have you told me about her before?” I asked. “You probably remember me talking about her last year. Her name is Tess. Lives in the subsidised housing with her mother. Anyway, she has been through two detox programs already and fallen off the wagon both times. It's heartbreaking. She really wants to have a life.” “Yes, I remember. I hope it works this time.” “Me too. The provincial detox centres are stretched to the limit and they tend to admit new cases ahead of habitual repeaters,” Liz said. “It might be a while before she gets another opportunity.” While Liz was at work, I checked with the house sitter. She was available all next week. I also booked plane tickets and sent an email to our renters, Mick and Barbara, explaining our plans to sell Vista Linda and letting them know we were planning a visit. I also emailed Brad Rogers, a real estate agent we knew in Dominical advising him that we wanted to list the property and I inquired as to what price he thought appropriate. Then I went back to my job, scraping the peeling paint off the wooden railing around the front porch. In the afternoon I went on line to check out house prices in Costa Rica. It seemed like they were all over the map. I looked at my watch and remembered that I had promised Liz I would make dinner tonight so decided to walk up to Queen Street and pick up something special. “Anny,” I said. “Want to go for a walk?” She jumped up immediately, ran to the hallway where her leash was hanging over a coat hook and proudly brought it to me in her mouth, tail wagging. I pulled on my jacket and Blue Jays cap on and we headed out the door. It was early May and there was a bit of a chill in the air. The daffodils were coming up and the days were getting longer. Anny's mother was a yellow lab but her father's identity was a mystery. Her coat was yellow like her mother's but her hair was longer and spikier than a lab. A bit like a husky. Sometimes people inquired about her breed. “She's a Labradog,” I would tell them. “A fairly rare breed known for their fondness of garbage and rolling in smelly things on the beach.” I believe a few people took me seriously. Some might have thought I was a nut bar. Anny and I exchanged pleasantries with a number of neighbours and acquaintances as we made our way up Kenilworth Ave. to Queen St. I wanted to grill salmon for dinner, if I could find some. I figured my best bet was Meat-on-the-Beach. Anny took her spot outside the front door and I looped her leash around the bicycle stand, just in case she decided to go in for some hors d'oeuvres. Although she gave me a look that said she felt a little slighted, she was used to the routine which usually included some friendly conversation and pats from passersby. I came out a few minutes later with a nice salmon fillet, fresh Ontario asparagus, baby red potatoes, fresh dill, a couple of whole-wheat cinnamon bagels for tomorrow's breakfast and a large bunch of fresh-cut spring flowers to brighten-up the kitchen table for Liz. It was about six o'clock when her car pulled in the driveway and Anny started barking and wagging her tail. Half an hour later, I had poured Liz and myself each a martini and we settled down on the back deck. I had filled Liz in on our travel reservations. “So what do you think we could get for our place?” Liz asked. “Well, we spent over $900k building it ten years ago,” I said. “I don't see why we shouldn't get at least that now.” “I was thinking more,” offered Liz. “Perhaps even a million.” “Remember that couple up in Lagunas with that nice house?” I said. “They had to wait a while but I heard they got a million.” “And their place was nice but not as nice as Vista Linda,” she said. “And not near as much property.” I got up and lit the BBQ. I had wrapped the potatoes in aluminum foil with some butter and salt and pepper and I put them on the grill. The evening air was starting to get a bit cool but we were enjoying being outdoors after being cooped up inside all winter. “Can I get you a sweater” I asked as I collected the martini glasses to make another round. ”Sure, there's one hanging in the hall,” Liz answered. I came back with the drinks and her sweater and we stood close to the grill to keep warm. “I don't think we should be in a rush to sell it too cheaply,” she said. “It's not like we are in a panic.” ”No, and it represents a large portion of our retirement savings,” I added. “How much we get dictates how much we have to live on going forward so let's try to maximize it.” I picked the olive out of my drink with my fingers and ate it. Then I flicked the pit into the hedge. Liz frowned. You can take the boy out of the jungle but you can't take the jungle out of the boy. We talked more about real estate prices while I put the salmon on the grill and brushed it with an olive oil and dill mixture and flipped over the package of potatoes. I opened a bottle of Pinot Grigio and poured myself a glass. Liz was still working on her second martini. When the salmon was almost done I put the asparagus directly on the grill, squirted some lemon on it and closed the lid for a few more minutes. After dinner we turned on the television to see how the Blue Jays were doing. Anny was already sleeping in the middle of the couch so we each took an end. The Jays were hosting the Texas Rangers and it was 1-0 for Texas in the sixth inning. Finally at the bottom of the ninth, Justin Smoak hit a home run tying the game and pushing it into extra innings. Then in the bottom of the tenth he came back and hit another two run homer, ending the game with the Blue Jays winning 3-1. Very exciting stuff. It was shaping up to be a good season for the Jays.