Madam of Maple Court (9 page)

"Wandered. Interesting way to put it."

"I've learned over my years in this business that there are usually reasons for everything in life and, in this case, sleeping dogs are better left undisturbed."

"There's more to this than either of us know, and I want to find out what was really going on. I'm sure the check I gave you will cover a little more of your time. Make it happen." She felt heat rise in her face and the fury made thinking difficult. "I want to meet his whore." She didn't know why she needed this, focused on it so fiercely, but she did.

"Calm down, Pam. You're reacting without any thought." His voice had taken on a soothing yet slightly condescending tone. "I'd advise against this. Please let it go. You found out what you wanted to know. What can be gained by meeting the actual woman?"

Her anger flashed so hot she could barely think. "I want to see her, tell her that she ruined my marriage."

"Did she ruin something good?"

Pam tried to take a breath but her anger had taken over her entire body. She wasn't exactly sure what had made her so furious so suddenly, but now that she had a focus for it she needed to vent it. Who was she so angry at? she wondered. This prostitute? Vin? Herself for settling for a lousy sex life? Being mad at the other woman was easier than the alternatives. "I want to meet her."

"If you're sure that's what you want…"

"I am."

"Okay. Let me see what I can arrange, but it won't be easy. They're very private at Club Fantasy and very, very careful."

"Set it up. I don't care what it costs."

"If I do this, I have to trust that you'll keep this between you and the woman. No cops, no scenes. If I can't believe that you'll keep it all in proportion, I won't even try."

"I'll be good, I promise." Would she? Gould she? She deliberately relaxed her shoulders and nodded slightly. Her voice lost its sharp edge. "I really do promise. I won't make a scene. Please, Gary, I don't know why, but I need this."

He looked at her for some minutes, then sighed. "I'll make some inquiries and see what I can do. Please, though, think it over for a few days when you're calmer and can get everything back into perspective. You husband's gone, and what went on before his death has no real relevance now."

"I know, but this is important to me. I promise I won't change my mind and I won't violate your trust. Set it up."

It was almost a week and a half before Gary called. It was a Monday and the weekend had been tough. She'd had little to do so she'd been bored out of her mind. She dusted and ran a vacuum over the carpets in the downstairs. After a quick lunch she put her few dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned the sink. She'd tried to read or watch TV or a DVD but nothing had caught her interest. She'd puttered in the garden but the landscapers had everything under control. What was she going to do with the rest of her life? There had to be something more for her. She thought about going to the country club, but now that Vin's death had begun to recede in everyone's mind, a few of the men had begun to act differently with her. Coming on to a possibly sexually frustrated widow had become a new sport, and wives had started to view her as dangerous.

"I was wondering whether you'd been unable to arrange anything," she said into the phone.

"I was hoping you'd have changed your mind."

"I haven't," she said. "It's important to me." She'd thought a lot about why she needed this and was no closer to understanding. All she knew was that the idea banged on her brain and wouldn't let go.

"Okay. I've set up a meeting with one of the women who run the club for tomorrow lunchtime," he said. "We're meeting at a little Chinese place called Oriental Wok in the West Sixties at noon." He gave Pam the address of the restaurant. "Does that work for you?"

"Yes, but what do you mean 'we'?"

"I'm going to be there to be sure the meeting stays pleasant and nonconfrontational. Any hint of unpleasantness and I'll drag you out of there, bodily if I have to."

"What kind of a woman do you think I am?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not taking any chances," he said, his voice brooking no protest. "I vouched for you, for your intelligence, your integrity, and your ability to keep this a personal thing, not a public one. I'm going along to be sure nothing gets out of line."

"Out of line?"

"No violence, no tape recorders, no nothing. My trust in you goes only so far, Pam. I don't really know you at all except for the fact that you're furious with the club for supposedly ruining your marriage."

"What do you mean supposedly? Those people got their hooks into Vin and bled him for every cent he had."

"Hold on, Pam," Gary snapped through the phone. "Let's get one thing straight. He went to them. From what I was able to find out, there's never been a report of coercion of any sort at the club. They had something he wanted and he visited the place of his own free will."

"How can you say things like that?" she said, trying not to cry. She thought she'd reasoned it all out, but there was sudden pain. "What could he get there that he couldn't get at home?"

"You're the only one who can answer that," he said patiently. "I don't want you to tell me anything, but think about this. Was your sex life everything it could have been? Did Vin really get what he wanted from you in the bedroom?" When she took a breath to snap out the obvious answer, he continued, "Don't answer and try to stop the knee-jerk 'it was terrific' Be honest with yourself for a moment. Unless you're honest, you won't be able to understand the reality of what went on."

She held her tongue, then let out a long, shuddering breath. "Okay, I'll be good. I'll see you tomorrow."

Pam clicked the End button on her cell phone. Tomorrow. She'd find out what she could about this Club Fantasy and then, if there was even a hint of anything illegal—besides the obvious, of course—she'd blow the whistle. There had to be blackmail or something like it involved in Vin's payments. He couldn't be visiting a place like that every other week for sex. That wasn't the Vin she knew.

She rubbed her eyes. Recently she'd found out lots of things weren't the Vin she knew.

The following morning was bright and clear, azure blue skies with puffy white clouds. As she drove south on the Saw Mill River Parkway, Pam didn't see the spring flowers or the new green all around her. Rather, she concentrated on the road and tried to steady her nerves. She wanted this meeting, but now she wasn't sure exactly why. Did she want to berate the woman for entangling her husband in some sordid business, or was she curious about what activities he'd been interested in? She had to admit that she was curious, and that curiosity had surfaced sometime yesterday. What had he wanted? Needed?

Now she had deep doubts about the wisdom of this meeting. Maybe Gary was right. Why had she wanted it in the first place? What did she have to gain from a possibly angry confrontation with a frowsy whore? Why?

Questions! So many questions.
Why does my brain always seem to think in questions
?

She took the Henry Hudson Bridge and drove down the West Side of Manhattan, deliberately taking a moment from her whirling thoughts to force herself to appreciate the blooming fruit trees along the river. Spring. New beginnings. She opened the car windows and inhaled, both to enjoy the smell of the salt water and to try to calm her racing thoughts and clear her mind. Who was she? The woman driving this car to the city for a meeting with an attractive man and a hooker wasn't anyone she recognized. What had happened to her in the past few weeks?

She tried to picture the woman who'd led Vin away from their marriage. She'd probably be tall. He liked Pam's diminutive stature, but at parties the women he looked at were usually tall. Blond? Redhead? She couldn't figure out her hair or eye color but she'd be smooth, slender, and probably wear a bit too much make-up. A trophy wife without the wife part.

She'd selected her clothing that morning with care. Armor of a sort. A navy spring suit with a severe white blouse and low-heeled navy pumps. She applied her make-up lightly and pulled her jaw-length hair in a tight knot at the back of her head. She wore a simple but costly heavy gold necklace with matching earrings. She wore nothing on her hands to detract from her channel set diamond wedding ring and the matching several carats of perfect diamond and platinum solitaire. Vin had given them to her for their fifth anniversary to replace the smaller engagement ring she'd had since they got engaged in college and the band he'd slipped on her finger at their wedding. From then on he would have her wear nothing less. She'd always liked the old rings, three diamond chips set in fourteen karat gold and an unadorned gold circlet, both of which she still kept in her jewelry box. She looked at her hand on the steering wheel. She'd sell the rocks, of course, but for now they felt like she was carrying armor.

She found a parking lot on West Sixty-fifth and walked to the restaurant, a simple neighborhood Chinese place with a small awning and a menu in the window listing rather ordinary Oriental fare. As she read, she felt a hand in the small of her back. "Checking out the dishes?" Gary said lightly.

She hadn't been looking at anything in particular, just girding her loins. She stood there feeling totally out of her element going into this ordinary-looking place with ordinary local people to meet someone who worked in a brothel. "I guess."

"It's okay. We can go in together."

She sighed. "Thanks for understanding."

"No problem. You look very severe today."

She smiled ruefully. "I wanted to buttress myself. The more I thought about this, the more I wondered why I'm here. When I had you arrange this meeting I was so sure. It was so important for me to see her. Now? I don't know."

"We can leave now. I have Marcy's cell phone number and I can call this off."

She sighed. "No. I want to at least see her so I can picture her from now on."

Gary patter her shoulder. "I'm glad you're not so angry anymore. As you know, I was reluctant to arrange this meeting, afraid you'd make a scene or get yourself seriously hurt. You look very much in control now and that makes me much more comfortable."

Again she smiled. "Looks can be deceiving." She smiled ruefully, then changed the subject. "How will we know the woman we're looking for?"

"She'll know us. I described myself and you pretty well." He glanced at his watch. "Right on time." The hand at her back guided toward the entrance. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

They entered the darkened restaurant. The walls were covered with the de rigeur red and gold Chinese wall coverings and the banquettes were trimmed with the same colors. The tablecloths were gleaming white with little lamps on each table. Pam looked around and saw no lone women, so she assumed that the woman from the club wasn't here yet.

Gary gave his name to the hostess, a tiny woman in a slender Oriental dress slit up to her thigh, and they were shown to a booth toward the back. "This is Miss Marcy's regular table," the hostess said, "so I'm sure she'll find you when she comes in."

Pam slid into the booth and Gary slid in beside her. "I must confess that you'll be meeting the woman who runs Club Fantasy first, rather than the woman your husband spent time with. She wanted to meet with you, sort of size you up, before it went any further. She's a very cautious, but also a very perceptive woman. If you pass muster and she's convinced that you won't make a scene, and you still want to, you can meet Vin's lady."