Madam of Maple Court (36 page)

She muddled through the party, polite but a little distant with Chase. "You're not quite all here today," Chase said as the crowd thinned late in the afternoon. "Anything I can help you with?"

If he only knew, she thought. "No, just lots of things on my mind." She needed information. "I've been wondering why you've never introduced me to your wife at any of these gatherings."

"She's pretty much of a homebody. The kids take up most of her time and she's not comfortable with my business friends the way you are. I keep the many parts of my life well separated."

"I can understand that, I guess," Pam said. "It's just that most of the other married men I host straight parties for bring their wives occasionally."

Chase looked at her seriously. "What's this obsession with my wife all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, just curious."

"You know I don't like to talk about Anna. She and the kids are in a different segment of my life."

"Sorry," Pam said, disappointed that she couldn't learn more about her enemy the easy way.

His shoulders relaxed. "Later?" Chase said with a raised eyebrow.

"Not today, darling," Pam said, brightening her voice to avoid any discomfort. "I've got a lot on my mind and wouldn't be good company."

Chase frowned. "That's the first time you've ever turned me down. Whatever's bothering you must be substantial."

"It is," was all she answered. She thought later that he hadn't asked her what was bothering her, nor had he offered to help.

She spent Sunday with Gary and his children. They'd decided to start out really early and drive down to Six Flags Great Adventure. In the car the four had sung songs and played auto scavenger hunt. Amy had been the first to find a license plate from Florida, and Melissa had yelled out when she'd seen a sign with the letter Q in it. "Antiques," she screamed. "I call a Q word."

Gary again invited her to join him on Kingda Ka, but she decided again that she didn't want to attempt a ride. Ever. It made her stomach hurt just thinking about it. "Let's go have an ice cream," she said to the girls, "so Daddy can ride as many times as he likes." They arranged a meeting place, then the three women started for the refreshment area. As they walked, Amy slipped her hand into Pam's and Pam's heart swelled. She didn't mention her troubles to Gary.

At nine the following morning she called Gary at his office. "Good morning, love," he said breezily.

When had he started to call her love? she wondered. "Good morning, Gary. I need some information," she said without preamble.

"You sound very formal. Of course I'll help in whatever way I can. What can I do for you?"

"I need to know whatever you can find out about the owner of a car with the New Jersey license plate HOBART3, and the person who usually drives it."

Suddenly serious, he said, "Okay, will do. What's up?"

"Is it okay if I tell you more when you've got some information?"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Hell yes, she thought. "Let's just let it lie until you know something."

Next she called Marcy. "We need to talk," Pam told her best friend, without preamble.

"Okay," Marcy said without hesitation. "Phone or in person?"

"Can you get away for lunch today? I know it's short notice but it's important."

"Listen, with my nanny in residence, I'm a relatively free woman. Chinese at twelve-thirty?"

"Sure. Same place?"

"Done."

Pam was so worried that she paid little attention to the Sprain Brook Parkway. Fortunately, there was little traffic. Gould Marcy forgive her for getting both of them into so much trouble? But what had she done that Marcy didn't do herself, directly or indirectly? Maybe it was making her house so available. If Chase's wife knew about the goings on at Maple Court, would the rest of the world be far behind?

When she arrived at the restaurant Marcy was already sitting at what had become "their booth" dipping noodles into duck sauce. "You look like you haven't been sleeping," Marcy said. "What's up?"

Simply and completely, Pam told her friend about Chase, the rose bushes, the keying of her car, and the SUV that had circled Maple Court. Then she took the note from her purse and handed it over. Marcy scanned the piece of paper silently, then looked up. "Okay, what should we do about this?"

No recriminations, no anger, just a matter-of-fact question. And the word "we." Marcy was a wonder. "I've asked Gary to look into the car's license plate number, but I can't imagine it was anyone but Chase's wife."

"Me neither, but I wouldn't borrow trouble yet," Marcy said calmly. "I've got friends in all kinds of places, and we should be able to contain any incipient trouble. However, you probably will need to consult a good lawyer."

"Yeah," Pam said with a sigh.

"I can see the financial wheels turning, Pam. Don't sweat money. I know you haven't saved enough yet to afford truly high-priced talent. Not to worry. Remember that you're in this partly because of me, and between us we can cover anything that needs doing. I know it's difficult, but try to relax." She reached out and took Pam's hand across the white tablecloth and squeezed. "We can handle it."

"You sound so calm," Pam said, feeling her spirits lift a little.

"Been there, done that."

"You've been in this kind of trouble before?"

"I've skirted the edges of some pretty nasty stuff but it's always worked out. Maybe Jenna, Chloe, and I have been lucky, but with all our brain cells focused on a problem, there's little we can't get through."

Was she actually taking this so lightly? Sharing a burden did lessen it, Pam realized, and Marcy seemed so unflappable. Perhaps she was right and it would all work out. With a wry chuckle, Pam said, "Once this is over, maybe we should all work on the problems in the Middle East."

Marcy huffed out a laugh and patted Pam's hand. "Maybe. We couldn't do a much worse job than what's been done there already."

The following day, after an early-morning call from Gary, Pam arrived in his office, impressed again by its feeling of quiet confidence.

She settled across from his desk and they chatted briefly like relative strangers about the weather and the international situation. Finally he said, "Okay, here's what I found out." He consulted a sheet of printed information. "The car is owned by a man named Chase Hobart and registered to him at an address in Paramus, New Jersey. It should be on a 2007 Lexus LX SUV, color black. Does that sound right?"

"It does. What about the person who drives it? Gould you find out anything there?"

"I did some snooping and, using credit card receipts for gas purchases, I gathered that it's usually driven by Anna Hobart, who resides at the same address in Paramus." Pam nodded, eager to hear more. "She's the wife of the owner of the car, and I checked personal stuff. They've been married for about twelve years, three children, Chase Jr., usually called Bud, aged eleven and a half; Tracy, aged nine; and Emily, aged seven, all of whom attend the local school system. The home is on a par with yours, I would guess. Want details?"

"Not about the house. What else could you find out about her?"

"Pam, you know I don't want to pry, but I want to help. What's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

She'd known this moment would come and she'd decided to be as honest as she could and take her chances with Gary's wrath. She told him about recent incidents and then, for the second time in two days, she pulled the note from her purse. Marcy had been so reasonable, maybe Gary…

He read it silently. "What have you been doing to get this person in such a fury?" His face was rigid. "Have you been having an affair with someone?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Mr. Hobart, perhaps."

She took a deep, slow breath. "Not exactly." When he remained still, she continued. "Before I tell you anything, I want you to know that I've never lied to you. Omitted a lot, but I've never lied." Then she told him.

She began by reminding him of her need for money when Vin was killed, and his introducing her to Marcy. Being as honest as she could, she continued with the story of her getting into the party business, her entertaining, and her relationship with Chase.

He remained silent for a long time, seeming to gather his thoughts. The skin around his eyes tightened, his expression stony. "You're a whore?" The words hissed out between tight lips.

What could she say? She nodded. "I guess you could call it that."

"Guess you could call it that?" He sat, stunned. Except for the hum of the ventilation system the office was silent for several more minutes. "I can't take it in. I thought I knew you. I had begun to think of you as a mother for my children. I don't understand."

"I don't know how to explain it to you. I do what I do to make money, to make men happy, and I enjoy it. It's just sex."

"I know you well enough to know that nothing's
just sex
about your prostitution." He paused. "My God, Pam. Who are you?"

"I'm the same person you've known all these months. You're right about one thing, though. I do care about the guys I'm with, but it is just sex. There's no permanence." She thought of Linc and Rob but decided against mentioning that part of her life.

"What about me?" Gary said. "You give it to me for free, but am I really just another John?" Bitterness began to seep out through his strict control. "Why do you fuck me?"

"Gary, it's not like that at all." She pictured the lovely life she had dreamed about, two little girls, going to school plays, sharing their report cards. What could she say?

"Okay, what is it? You fuck men for money, so why do you fuck me?"

"I care about you."

"You just said you care about all the men you fuck. Why me? I don't pay."

"Gary, I love you. I don't love any of the other men." Was either part of that statement true? Linc was so much more than a casual man in her life. He was one of the few constants. Did he love him? Rob was fun to be with, and together they'd tasted many of New York's best places. And she liked him. Love? She wasn't sure that she knew what love was. Did she love Gary? She didn't know that, either.

"Nice, neat answer, but we've never mentioned love before." He was now clearly furious. "It's very convenient for you to say those words now. Keep the guy interested. Make him think about a future. You're really good at managing relationships, aren't you?" She watched him glance down at his clenched fists and deliberately spread his fingers. "Okay, enough of this. Let's keep this purely professional." His laugh was bitter. "I mean my profession. Your profession is your business." Another wry laugh. "I can't seem to keep double entendres out of the conversation. What do you want from me regarding the rightly pissed Anna Hobart?"

Tears began to gather behind her eyes. "I don't know."

"Don't give me the teary female bit, Pam. We're in this too deep for that. I'll find out what more I can. I assume you need to find something to keep her from blowing your little business to kingdom come, and I'll help you do that. Personally, I would hate to see your face splashed all over the newspapers. The girls would be sure to find out things and ask questions that I don't want to have to answer." He stood up. "Gall me in a day or so and I'll tell you what I can." He extended his hand. "Nice doing business with you, Ms. DePalma. I'll send you a bill when we're done."