My Dead Dad vs. A Very Much Alive Scammer

Before I could even process the messages, someone started pounding on my front door. I put down my phone, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

A whole crowd was outside, led by the property manager, George Zeller. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking thoroughly helpless, while Suzanne Weston plopped herself down on the mat outside my door.

She slapped her thighs and wailed at the top of her lungs, while Rita Lind stood behind her and glared at me with her arms crossed. "Everyone, look over here! How are we supposed to live like this?"

When Suzanne saw me open the door, she yelled at the top of her lungs, "Joanne Calhoun, where is your damn old father? Get him out here! Last night at the plaza, that dirty old man reached over and groped me before it was even dark! I can't live with this! That pervert ruined my reputation!"

Neighbors poked their heads out into the hallway, whispering among themselves and pointing at my apartment.

"How shameless! He's in his 70s, but he's still doing such things?"

"You really never know what someone is really like. Look at that creepy grin in that photo."

"His wife died years ago. Maybe he was pent up, but that doesn't mean he can prey on the neighbors!"

I listened to the whispers around me, staring down at Suzanne without a hint of emotion. "You're saying my dad groped you last night?"

"Yeah!" Suzanne sprang up from the floor and shoved her phone right in front of my face.

It was the photo that had been shared in the group chat. Under the streetlamp, a skinny old man was grabbing a woman's butt. He looked just like Dad. Even the mole at the corner of his mouth was in exactly the same spot, and he was grinning lecherously.

"The evidence is right here! What else do you have to say?"

Rita chimed in, "Last night, he groped Suzanne. Then, he grabbed my thigh too! We've already looked into it. Your dad's company just paid you 500,000 dollars in compensation last month! I'm telling you, if you don't hand over that money today, this won't end!"

Just like that, I understood the true motive behind this farce.

A month ago, Dad's old factory had gone through a restructuring and finally paid out the compensation he was owed for the lung disease he had suffered from back then. The total came to 500,000 dollars. Unfortunately, I had let that slip while taking a call downstairs.

Suzanne happened to overhear me while she was picking out eggs nearby. So, they had banded together to extort me.

"Joanne." George hurriedly came over and whispered, "Your dad was getting on in years. Maybe he just had a momentary lapse of judgment. If you report him to the police, he'll ruin his reputation in his final years. He could even end up behind bars.

"Since you have some spare cash, you should just pay them off and make this go away. Just pay them some compensation for emotional distress and be done with it. You're still neighbors. It would look bad if you were to take this to court."

I didn't explain or argue. I just found the whole thing so absurd. It was Dad's death anniversary, and somehow, these women actually tried to extort me without even knowing whether my dad was alive.

I glared at the greedy Suzanne and asked, "You want 200,000 dollars, don't you?"

"No, 500,000 dollars!" Rita quickly corrected me. "Don't forget my share!"

I nodded. "Sure."

Suzanne and Rita's eyes lit up, and George sighed in relief. They thought I had backed down and was ready to hand over the money.

Then, I said, "Go ahead. Call the cops."

The hallway went quiet.

The smile froze on Suzanne's face. She couldn't seem to process what I had said.

"If the police open a case and a court orders compensation, I'll pay whatever the court orders. Even if it's a million dollars, I'll pay it. But if you want to settle this privately, you won't get a dime," I said.

With that, I slammed the door shut without hesitation, leaving them outside.

Everyone outside was silent for a few moments. Then, they threw even more vicious insults at me.

"Joanne! You're asking for it! Just you wait!"

"I'll make sure your pervert of a father ends up behind bars!"

I leaned back against the metal door and looked across the living room at the long table in the middle. In the memorial portrait, Dad smiled benevolently at me. An urn was sitting in front of the portrait.

"Dad, it has been a year since you died. I never imagined you'd return from the dead and become a lecherous old man, to boot," I thought.