The Samoa Seduction

by Alan L. Moss

  ***

  Tapping on the conference room door broke the silence. A summer intern entered with the coffee and doughnuts Bruce Blair promised. After the group settled down with their snacks, Officer Kiley began.

  Although he was impressed with his subject, John Kiley worked most of his professional life in New York City. He would not let anyone, no matter how beautiful, muddle his investigation. His muscular build, square jaw, and cropped hair projected an image of an officer not to be toyed with.

  “Ma’am, let me begin by saying we really appreciate you making yourself available in such a short time. Often, time is the most important element in cracking a case. We really are grateful for your cooperation.”

  Even though no question was posed, Stephanie responded.

  “Well, Officer, we just wanted to help any way we could. I knew Michael Bloom in Samoa and I found him to be an impressive individual.”

  Kiley took a swig of coffee, flipped open his notebook, and unclipped a pen from his shirt pocket. Then, he began his questioning.

  “Okay, then, Mrs. Pecura, when did you meet Dr. Bloom?”

  “I spoke to Dr. Bloom on the phone sometime in 2000. He was setting up the minimum wage hearings and, as Director of the Visitors Information Bureau, he asked if I could help.”

  Kiley took another sip of coffee and a bite of doughnut, leaving a powdered-sugar mustache that he brushed away.

  “So, did you meet him in person in 2000?”

  “No, we didn’t meet in person until a week before the hearings. Malia and I picked him up from the airport and gave him a ride to the Parrot and Porpoise Lodge.”

  “Who is Malia?” Kiley asked.

  “Malia was my assistant at the Bureau.”

  “Did you see Dr. Bloom often?”

  Paul walked Stephanie through these likely questions and she felt prepared.

  “Actually, I think we met just twice after that. Once Malia and I had bumped into him at a restaurant. The other time was at a golf outing arranged by George Partain, a private investigator who worked for the Department of Justice.”

  “Now, Mrs. Pecura, how well did you get to know Dr. Bloom?”

  Stephanie looked the officer in the eye and tried to respond with no emotion.

  “Based on our phone calls and our short time in Samoa, I think I got to know Dr. Bloom as well as could be expected. He is not a man who would deliberately harm anyone. He was devoted to his job, to helping workers get equitable treatment under the law.”

  Kiley pursued her.

  “I’m not so interested in your professional assess-ment of Dr. Bloom but more in your personal feelings for him.”

  Bruce Blair tensed and interrupted the questioning.

  “Officer Kiley, I hate to interfere but the Congress-man’s wife said she met this man twice in Samoa in her professional capacity and it seems presumptuous for you to assume Mrs. Pecura had any personal feelings for him.”

  Kiley didn’t take his eyes off Stephanie. He could see the blush darken under her tan and he thought he saw her eyes fight back tears.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Blair, I didn’t mean to presume anything. I just wanted to know how Mrs. Pecura feels about Dr. Bloom.”

  Stephanie accepted the challenge.

  “Of course, Officer Kiley, I feel sorry for Dr. Bloom. When I knew him, he seemed a conscientious and exemplary member of the federal government. Now, he lost his wife and has gone missing. I’m sure he doesn’t deserve such hardships.”

  Kiley reckoned she was ready to crack. He wasn’t sure of the details but this beautiful woman was involved somehow.

  “Of course,” Kiley responded in a matter of fact tone. “Now, Mrs. Pecura, how many times have you seen Dr. Bloom since you moved to the Mainland?”

  With that question, Blair blew up.

  “We’re ending this right here. Nothing indicates that Mrs. Pecura has seen Dr. Bloom in the U.S. That question reveals a prejudicial attitude and I’m advising Mrs. Pecura not to answer any more of your inquiries.”

  Kiley would not be intimidated.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m just trying to figure out why Dr. Bloom’s computer reveals that he seemed obsessed with Mrs. Pecura. In fact, at the time his wife was in the fatal car crash, Dr. Bloom was searching online for pictures of Mrs. Pecura.”

  Stephanie fought to hold on.

  “Look, Officer Kiley, I don’t know anything about Dr. Bloom’s computer. Maybe he heard about my marriage to Congressman Pecura and was curious about us. I can assure you I haven’t seen him since I moved to the Mainland.”

  Blair seemed to calm down and Kiley continued.

  “Well, if it’s okay with Mr. Blair, I just have one more question.”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Stephanie answered.

  “Back in May, you attended an event for congressional wives in Atlantic City. According to credit card receipts we’ve obtained, Michael Bloom was in Atlantic City one of those days. However, you contend you haven’t seen each other since Samoa?”

  Stephanie placed her hands on the table.

  “Officer, I attended that function with all three of my children. My husband was present each night. You can verify that with the Tropicana. That doesn’t sound like conditions for a rendezvous.”

  “Of course,” Kiley responded apologetically. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any embarrassment but you must understand that this is a murder investigation and we have to follow every lead, even if some turn out to be meaningless.”

  “I understand,” Stephanie answered. “As I said, we’re glad to help.”

  They all stood and the men shook hands. Just as Stephanie approached the door, Kiley interrupted.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I have one more thing. According to Dr. Bloom’s computer, he contacted officials in Washing-ton about fraud and abuse committed at the 2001 minimum wage hearings. Would you know anything about that?”

  Stephanie, with her hand on the doorknob, went pale. She wanted to flee the room but knew she must make some kind of response.

  “I really had no role in the hearings,” she said, her voice trailing off. “As I understand it, the hearings were governed by a Committee.”

  Kiley wasn’t through.

  “Wasn’t your husband the Chairman of that Committee?”

  Stephanie let go of the door, again struggling to maintain her composure. Then, she turned to face Kiley.

  “Yes, Paul served as the Chairman. We met at the hearings. I can assure you, with Paul as Chairman, everything was on the up and up.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Pecura, thanks again for your information,” Kiley said.

  He held out his hand to shake Stephanie’s and she took it, looking down at the floor. Her hand felt clammy and her whole body seemed to be shaking.

  Kiley and the state police had reviewed Bloom’s charges of fraud and abuse but believed they weren’t connected to the murder. Now, they knew better.

  CHAPTER 35

  FLIGHT

  July 18, 2004

  Nedonna Beach, Oregon

  Almost a week passed since Stephanie Pecura was questioned by the police. As time went by, her confidence grew. Maybe her performance was more convincing than she thought.

  She returned to Nedonna Beach and the quiet life she loved. Sitting at the antique mahogany desk in the corner of their bedroom, she consulted her calendar and began planning the rest of the summer.

  Congress recessed and soon Paul would leave Washington to spend several weeks at home. He promised she wouldn’t be needed in D.C. until September. She wanted to make the most of the remaining good weather in Oregon and planned to arrange outings for the whole family.

  Learning that Michael was surfing the Web for her picture while Karen was involved in the fatal crash created a bizarre sense in her. Perhaps, in the end, they were meant to be together. After all, Michael’s undying attraction to her saved his life. Had he been in the car with Karen he would have been the second fatality.

  Why d
id he want to see her picture? Did he close his eyes, remember how he kissed her lips, how he caressed her breasts, how they held each other through the night? Was the picture his passport to the past? Would he go back and feel her, be with her again in his mind?

  In Tucson he resisted her. He wished her a good life but a life without him. Now, things could be different. Karen was gone. Michael had no loyalties to stand in his way.

  Could she leave Paul, the man who treated her so well, even adopting her children? Maybe she could stay with Paul and still find a way to re-establish her relationship with Michael.

  Stephanie locked the bedroom door and moved to the bed, placing her head on the pillow. After a few minutes she sat up and removed her halter top, letting her breasts fall free. She closed her eyes and pictured Michael during that first time when they were together, when she had her way with him. God, he was an attractive man. Those intense blue eyes, the clean-cut looks, the drive to help people he hardly knew.

  She remembered holding herself over him, his eyes opening with wonder from a dead sleep; then, his fingers rubbing her nipples.

  Stephanie moved into position. Eyes closed, she rubbed her nipples trying to duplicate the sensation. Her mouth opened, her lips flared; she could feel her body responding.

  ***

  The ringing came from her purse, sitting on the floor next to the desk. Only Paul knew her cell phone number. Reluctantly, Stephanie rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. She put her halter top back on, got off the bed, and walked to her purse. With cell phone in hand she answered his call.

  “Hi, Paul. How’s my favorite Congressman?”

  A few seconds of silence followed and Stephanie got a bad feeling. Then, Paul began.

  “I don’t want you to get upset or to panic but we may have a problem.”

  Stephanie sat down at the desk and braced herself.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Well, it seems both the New Jersey State Police and the Department of Labor’s Inspector General indepen-dently requested assistance from the FBI. The state police believe there’s more to Karen Bloom’s murder and Michael’s disappearance than meets the eye. The I.G. believes the claims of fraud and abuse regarding the minimum wage hearings may be responsible for Karen’s death and Michael’s disappearance.”

  Stephanie’s heart sank and her body tensed.

  “I thought they were going to leave us alone. What do we do now?”

  “First, I don’t know how long this line will maintain its privacy. Once the Feds get involved, no line is safe. Second, if the FBI questions you, you must stay silent or tell the truth. If you refuse to speak with them, they’ll redouble their efforts. If you lie to a federal investigator, you will have committed perjury, which carries an automatic jail sentence.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t go to jail, Paul. What would happen to the kids?”

  Stephanie could feel the sweat pouring from her body. Her head shook uncontrollably. Sensing her reaction, the Congressman tried to reassure her.

  “Stephanie, don’t panic! I have three lawyers working for us and I still have a number of cards to play. I know where several skeletons are buried and the President would prefer they stay that way. Be a good soldier. As soon as I have some real news, I’ll fly home and we can talk.”

  “Okay, Paul. I’ll just wait here for you to come home.”

  “That’s my girl. Just stay calm, honey. Can you promise me that? If either of us runs, the vultures will be all over us.”

  ***

  Maybe he knew and maybe he didn’t, but Stephanie would not wait for the FBI to come knocking at her door. She had committed too many criminal acts: conspiracy to influence a federal Committee by drugging the Wage and Hour Division’s Chief Economist; poisoning the same man in order to squelch his anticipated charges of fraud and abuse; and accepting large sums of money for both those acts, money on which no income taxes have been paid.

  The kids were playing in the backyard and Stephanie decided to take action right away.

  She concluded that she never should have come back to the Mainland. She didn’t belong, no matter how elegant and powerful she looked. She was Samoan and she belonged in Samoa. It was foolish to believe she could make it in the states.

  I will always be an outsider, an intruder in this land.

  She would return home where she would be safe. If the FBI came looking for her, she would leave the kids with her mother and disappear. There were places in the Samoan Islands where federal officers couldn’t go.

  ***

  Within the hour she made reservations to fly to Hawaii and then to American Samoa. She told the kids Paul would meet them later. This trip would be an adventure, a surprise visit to see their grandmother.

  By seven that evening Stephanie finished packing, loading their suitcases into the SUV. The kids were in bed excited about the morning flight. For them, it would be another chance to see their grandmother and visit with friends from the old neighborhood.

  ***

  Stephanie stood in the shower, letting the water pelt the front of her body. She closed her eyes. She just wanted to relax, to get away, to be safe. She didn’t want to be a congressman’s wife. She didn’t want to be wealthy. She wanted to be with the man she loved and she wanted to be safe.

  PRE-HEARINGS EPISODES

  June 4, 2001 – June 5, 2001

  CHAPTER 36

  THE COMMITTEE

  June 4, 2001

  Vaitogi Village, American Samoa

  Michael drove his rental down the dirt road leading to the Parrot and Porpoise. The warm Samoan day with bright sunshine and a dark blue sky provided relief from the previous night’s entanglement. As he continued on, the thick trees along the side of the road blocked the sun. He could still feel Stephanie’s warmth, a sensation he hadn’t had since his early days with Karen.

  When he came to the section of road covered with pink petals, he tried to shake himself out of his reverie. He parked the car next to the house and walked upstairs to his room. By dinnertime the entire contingent from the Mainland would be there.

  After a shower and change into fresh clothes, he fixed a late breakfast, moved out to the deck to eat, and began working. He needed to plan how to use the hours before the hearings to brief the Committee and set them at ease.

  After helping the group settle-in at the lodge, he would suggest dinner at Larry’s. With any luck, this time a confrontation with the other side would be avoided and the restaurant’s American food would ease the travelers into life on Samoa. At dinner, he would entertain questions about the Samoa Economic Report he authored.

  Michael saw Saturday as a day of rest and relaxation. The many hours traveling and time zone changes required a recovery period. He would suggest a choice of a swim or tennis match at the lodge, a hike to the beach just off Larson’s Cove, or a round of golf at the Lanu-eka Country Club. Georgia agreed to lead the hike to the cove while Michael would accompany the golfers.

  Saturday night would begin with dinner at the lodge. Just after dinner, he would convene the first formal meeting of the group. They would go over the schedule for the hearings and review everyone’s responsibilities. After the meeting, Michael would slip away and join Stephanie at Sophia’s.

  Just before three o’clock Michael heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

  “Dr. Bloom, it’s Georgia. Are you there?”

  “Come on up, Georgia. What can I do for you?”

  Georgia wore an aqua blue lavalava with a string of large white pearls around her neck.

  “I just wanted you to know we’re picking up our new guests this afternoon. A van is ready, so, feel free to come along. We’ll be leaving at three fifteen. With customs to go through, I think we should be back between five and five-thirty. Also, everything is set for tomorrow’s dinner. We’ll serve steak, fish, and some traditional Samoan dishes.”

  Michael moved his work papers to one side and looked up from the deck’s picnic table, his Samoan des
k.

  “That sounds fine, Georgia. As you’re kind enough to pick up our folks from the airport, I’ll wait here and finish my work. Also, let me give you the names of the two Samoan members of the Committee. If at all possible, could you call and invite them to tomorrow’s dinner? I would do it myself but if they need directions to the Parrot and Porpoise I’m afraid I wouldn’t be of much use.”

  “I’ll call them right away and let you know if they can attend.”

  Michael handed an index card to her. It included the names, addresses, and telephone numbers of both men. Georgia headed back down the stairs.

  Michael retrieved the biographies of the Committee members and moved to the deck’s glider. Lying on his back with his head on a pillow, he reviewed the cast of characters.

  Paul Pecura was the Secretary’s last-minute choice for Committee Chairman. Half-Samoan and half-Italian, he was a partner in a Portland, Oregon law firm that specialized in mergers and acquisitions. Having twice run unsuccessfully for Congress, Michael decided his appointment might have been a reward for being a good trooper for the Republican Party.

  James Redferd was appointed by the Secretary to represent organized labor. He was an officer of a Laborers Joint Council in Milwaukee. His experience was concentrated in education and training programs, A good choice, Michael thought.

  Bill Echaveste was the Tuna Producers Association’s selection for the Committee. He spent many years managing Samoa’s tuna processor before moving on to become an upper level manager for a large sporting goods chain based in Los Angeles. Echaveste was already on-Island and would be a lost cause. He would oppose any increase in the minimum wage.

  Claire Williams, a Labor Department attorney who handled Wage-Hour issues, would be on the flight and staying at the lodge.