THE GREAT BETRAYAL (30 page)

Leslie reached for the phone and called Dawn.

She got her on her cell. “What do you think?” Leslie asked after she’d read her the e-mail. “Am I telling her too much?”

“I dunno on this one, Les. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Just give it a while; who knows? Maybe she’s just busy with school stuff and hasn’t had a chance to check her e-mail yet. It’s only been
one
day.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Leslie, nodding. “That’s probably all it is.”

And indeed it probably was. Although when Grace’s response came the following morning, there was no reference to the unusual delay.

To:
L. Cavanaugh [
[email protected]
]

From:
Grace C. [
mailto:[email protected]
]

Subject:
Re: Call me stupid…

Message:
Which songs did he play over and over again?

Grace

Perhaps her daughter had simply been thinking about the e-mail. Thinking about her response.

Leslie made quick work of replying, eager to satisfy any thirst Grace had for knowledge about her father.

To:
Grace C.
[email protected]

From:
L. Cavanaugh [
mailto:[email protected]
]

Subject:
Your dad’s favorites

Message:
“Suspicious Minds,” “Hound Dog,” “Jailhouse Rock,” “Kentucky Rain,” “That’s All Right, Mama,” “Just Pretend,” “My Way,” “Moody Blue,” “Hawaiian Wedding Song,” “Blue Hawaii,” “You Gave Me a Mountain,” “I’ll Remember You,” “Welcome to My World,” “It’s Over,” “How Great Thou Art”

Enjoy,

Leslie

By the time Leslie typed her name, her face was soaked with tears.

She knew it was time to leave 1985…she just didn’t know how.

Chapter 51

The mind of a teenager could be quite capricious. Lauren Samson knew this all too well. It wasn’t that long ago that she had been one herself.

She had other girls working for her, but losing Holly, Kathryn, and Jodi was costing her big revenue. Web site membership was down, and e-mail queries kept pouring in from the existing members asking about the girls and expressing disappointment.

What happened to Kit-Kat? No new pics of Jo-Jo Dancer?

The demand was high for their weekly performances—performances they never even knew they’d been giving from the start. Although they had been aware that their sexy nude photos were taken for publication on a Web site, they’d had no idea the live video cam had been hidden in the room the entire time.

If she hadn’t rocked the boat and just kept the
men
out of the equation, things would’ve continued running smoothly. But, alas, the revenue opportunities were endless…There was
so
much money to be made.

I have to coax them back
, Lauren thought while checking her flawless makeup in a Gucci compact mirror.

She decided it was time she looked into recruiting legal-age girls who could simply pass for minors. But the young girls were worth so much more. The men
loved
them young. As far as most were concerned, the younger the better.

In the meantime, she had to recover and placate her current cash cows. She needed them to change their minds…and Lauren was pretty confident that, given enough incentive and reassurance, they would come back, and business would be better than ever!

While Lauren Samson was making plans to ensure the future revenue of her salon, she had no idea that, across town, equally ruthless plans were being made to rob her of her three greatest assets.

Ajay Patella, part-time cameraman, part-time flesh hunter, hung up his cell phone as he turned to his two unsavory friends. “He watched the trailer at farfromlegal.com. Man says he’ll pay five thousand apiece for the three Caucasians. Says he’ll double it if we can find a way to get ‘em to St. Croix by next Saturday.” He looked back and forth between the two men. “That’s fifteen thousand just for grabbing ‘em. Thirty thousand if we produce them in the Virgin Islands.” A devious smile spread across Ajay’s face as he said the words, baring his stained teeth. For these men, it was fortune!

“Sounds good to me,” said one of the men, folding his arms. “Call that chick Lauren and request another session.”

“She won’t,” Ajay said, shaking his balding head. “Says the girls didn’t like it and they’re too young to risk it again…”

“Wait,” said the other one. “We can just show up one night and grab ‘em easy enough—but how the hell are we gonna get ‘em down to St. Croix?”

Ajay smiled again. “They’re just a few kids, my friend. They’ll plum shit their pants when we pull guns out on ‘em. You don’t need passports for the Virgin Islands, just ID. We’ll get our plastic man to produce some fake ones so there’s no trail, and then we’ll scare the living shit out of those girls. Trust me—they’ll go willingly when we’re done with ‘em.”

“Sounds like a plan,” his friend said. “Let’s do it.”

Leslie sat at the dining room table going through the mail. She cringed when she saw that most of it was from creditors. Citibank. Capital One. American Express. Discover. Had she really been shopping that much lately?

Yes. And Luke was going to kill her…
if
he saw them. There were times when he used to go online to check up on balances, but Leslie had solved that problem. She’d simply applied for new cards that Luke never found out about. Now all she had to do was make sure he didn’t see the mail—which was easy enough—slowly integrate her new purchases so as not to raise his eyebrow—which was just a tad more difficult—and everything was fine.

Fine? Who was she kidding? Nothing was fine.

Just then Evelyn came in from the garage carrying two bags of groceries. Leaving the table, Leslie took a bag off her hands.

“Publix was all out of blueberries,” Evelyn said once they were in the kitchen unpacking the groceries. “I had to drive over to the Albertson’s on Lantana.”

“Thanks, Evelyn, that’s great…” said Leslie, distracted. She paused. “Evelyn, can I ask you something?”

Evelyn’s hands slowed as she moved to open the refrigerator. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Do you like coming here to work?”

Evelyn looked startled. “Of course! What kind of question is that—you know I love cooking for your family.”

“Well, I guess my question should be…What’s your impression of our home? Do we seem like a happy family, compared to others you’ve worked with?”

“Uh…well…” Evelyn became visibly uncomfortable.

Leslie looked at her expectantly. “Don’t be afraid, just be honest.”

“I don’t know if I should. It’s so not my place, Leslie. I just come to cook.”

Leslie took a carton of eggs from Evelyn’s hands and pulled her to the table. They sat. “I hate to make you uncomfortable, but I’m really curious, and I’d really help me a lot if you could be honest and give me your impression.”

“Well…okay. I guess you all are a bit different because…you don’t seem to be
comfortable
around one another. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It makes a lot of sense. Go on.”

“So you don’t seem to be on the same wavelength. Everyone goes about their lives in a straight line…hardly ever blending, you know? I’ve always wondered…”

“Yes?”

Evelyn looked toward the doorway. “You and Mr. Cavanaugh…do you think he’s faithful?” Evelyn blushed as she asked, but she figured, What the hell? Leslie had opened the door by asking; she was simply walking through it.

Leslie’s eyes closed briefly as she spoke. “Oh, Evelyn…That means it isn’t just my imagination. You can see it, too…and you’re not even here every day.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve thought so for some time now…maybe since the end of last year.”

“I’ll be honest with you—I have no idea what’s going on, Evelyn. I’ve been afraid to even give it a voice.”

“Forgive me for asking…but have you discussed it with your friend Dawn?”

“No. Like I said…I’ve never said anything. Oddly enough, you’re the first person I’m discussing it with. I still can’t believe he would cheat on me…after all we’ve already got going on between us…he’d have an affair.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Well,” Evelyn cautioned, “if you want my advice…I don’t think you’d have to look very far to find out who he may be involved with.”

Leslie’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“Your friend, uh…Dawn. She’s a good friend to you…right? You trust her?”

“With my life.”

Evelyn stared at her.

Leslie froze. “But she’s m-marrying Lyle.”

Leaving the table, Evelyn said, “I’d better get the rest of the groceries packed away before they spoil.”

As Evelyn cooked in the kitchen, Leslie found herself walking through the doorway of Luke’s office.

She was on autopilot. If she thought too much about what she was doing, she would have to admit that she suspected her husband and her best friend in the world—her only friend in the world—of having an affair. And of course, that was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

Luke’s laptop lay on the desk next to his BlackBerry.
His Blackberry
? He must’ve forgotten it. Walking over to the desk, she picked it up. Leslie stared at the compact device, turning it this way and that. Did it hold the answers she so desperately needed?

Glancing back toward the door, Leslie hesitated. In all the years they’d been married, she had never done anything like this before. Never felt the need to encroach upon Luke’s personal space.

But a burning curiosity had been planted by Evelyn’s insinuation. It was now driving Leslie’s actions. Any doubt that arose was pacified by the raw intensity of the suspicion. She told herself that she was simply searching to put her mind at ease. That there was nothing incriminating to be found.

But once the BlackBerry was turned on, Leslie found out just how wrong she was.

She supposed he had never felt a need to erase the messages. To cover his tracks. Luke had never had reason to believe she would ever come prying, snooping through his things behind his back.

And Dawn.

Leslie dropped her head, the BlackBerry falling from her hands. Humiliation showered her like rain. It prickled her skin and made her tremble.

Dazed, she slumped into Luke’s chair.

Minutes flew by and she couldn’t move a muscle. She was remembering. Every lunch. Every phone conversation. Every e-mail.

Each and every time she had been sharing her soul with the enemy.

From the content of the messages, it seemed that nearly every word she’d ever shared with Dawn had found its way to Luke. The messages were all about her. They’d been laughing at her the entire marriage!

Stupid Leslie. Weak, confused, and pathetic Leslie!

How could something like this have been going on without her knowing? Or even suspecting?

“Leslie?”

She shot from the chair, startled. She called out, “Yes?”

“I’ll be going now.” It was Evelyn. “Is there anything else you need before I go?”

“Uh…no, Evelyn. Thanks. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Okay.” A pause. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

No. No, she was not going to be all right.

“Yes, Evelyn. I’ll be fine.”

Rather than return to the chair, Leslie’s feet led her over to one of Luke’s file cabinets. She was familiar enough with is organizing to know where he kept important documents.

Within minutes she knew the address of Luke’s infamous beach house. The reason he had kept it all these years was now painfully clear. Abundantly clear.

God, what a fool she had been to leave him to it! A complete and utter fool, stunned by a lifetime of her own deceit…and crippling guilt.

Were they there together right now? Right this minute? Leslie glanced at the digital clock on Luke’s desk: 6:15.

She left the office and gathered her purse and keys. What did she expect to find there? She did not know. Leslie was on autopilot.

And it was taking her to 874 Perugia Way.

Against her better judgment, and with the trip to Jamaica still outstanding and more enticing than ever, by July Kate had allowed Holly and Jodi to convince her that they should return to working for Lauren Samson.