The Deception

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The Deception Page 8

by Marina Martindale


  "This fall, after the weather cools off, probably sometime in late October. We haven't decided on the exact date yet, but we have decided that the wedding it will be fairly small. Just family and close friends, and I want you to be my maid of honor."

  "Oh wow, Allie, I'm honored, I really am, but I can't. I just don't have the money for the dress."

  "It's okay, Carrie. I thought about that too. Since you'll be my only attendant, we have some leeway. We can go to a regular department store and pick out a nice party dress. One that isn't overly expensive, and that you could wear later on to a holiday party."

  Carrie appreciated the sentiment, but with Doug, and now Scott, out of the picture, she no longer had much of a social life. She didn't anticipate being invited to very many parties, before or after the holiday season.

  The party began to wind down. All of the guests congratulated Steve and Allison as they left. Carrie stayed to help with cleanup before saying goodnight. Steve and Allison walked her to her car, each giving her a long, lingering hug while she congratulated them again. She felt mixed emotions, driving back to her apartment. On one hand, she was sincerely happy for Steve and Allison. Their wedding was long overdue. But on the other hand, their engagement was a bittersweet reminder of everything she no longer had. It had been nearly nine months since she and Doug had gone their separate ways. In hindsight, she'd come to realize she'd wasted the best years of her life on him. As she parked her car and headed up the stairwell to her apartment she began to consider the possibility that she could very well end up alone for the rest of her life.

  Fourteen

  Carrie slammed the phone down in disgust. It was the third crank call she'd received that morning. The calls had all come to her office number, posted on her website. She wondered if her website had somehow been hacked. She called her webmaster, asking him to investigate. He called back a short time later, saying that other than heavier than usual traffic that morning everything appeared to be normal. In the interim, she'd received yet another obscene phone call, so they decided to take her phone number off the website. Within an hour the harassing calls had stopped.

  Carrie tried to pull herself together and go back to work. The calls were disturbing and she was having a hard time concentrating. She heard the bell at her front counter. She stepped into the reception area to find Marcy, her letter carrier.

  "Good morning, Marcy. How was your Fourth of July?"

  "Nice and quiet." She placed the mail on the counter. "I have something you need to sign for."

  Carrie signed the form and Marcy handed her a large, thick envelope. The sender was GMH Publications, from Los Angeles. She didn't recognize the name. More than likely it was a prospective client. Marcy said goodbye as Carrie took the mail back to her desk and opened it. Inside the big envelope was a check, payable to her, for five thousand dollars. Attached to the check was a personally signed letter from Caleb Wyman, publisher of Gentry Magazine, congratulating her for winning the photo contest in their latest issue.

  "What on earth? I never entered any photo contest. Not for anyone, and most certainly not for you."

  She reached back into the envelope and pulled out the remaining contents. It was the latest issue of Gentry Magazine. As she thumbed through the pages something familiar caught her eye and she heard herself shrieking. Inside the pages were two of the nude photos Louise Dickenson had shot of her. One was of her kneeling on top of the four-poster bed, the other of her reclining in the leather chair.

  "What the hell!"

  She looked at the captions. Both photos were titled as self-portraits, and she was identified as both the model and the photographer.

  Tears ran down her face as she stared at the photos. Her entire body was shaking and she was in state of total shock. Louise had assured her that she would remain anonymous and that no one buying any of the prints would ever know her name. The only buyer who knew her identity was Scott, but what reason would he have for doing this? She'd had no contact with him since the day he'd dropped by her office to tell her goodbye, and he certainly didn't appear to be angry or resentful.

  Carrie picked up the letter. Wyman's address and phone number were printed on the letterhead. Her hands were still shaking as she dialed the number.

  "Stay calm, Carrie," she told herself as she took a deep breath and waited for someone to answer. After punching a few buttons, a live person came on the line.

  "Yes, hello." She fought to keep the tremble in her voice down. "This is Carrie Daniels. I'm calling about the pictures of me, in this month's issue."

  "Yes, congratulations Carrie. Those photos were exceptionally well done. We've never seen anything this classy in our contest before. You've certainly raised the bar."

  "Thank you, but I need to ask a favor. I can't find my release form. Would you mind emailing a copy to me?"

  "Certainly. Let me pull up the file on my computer."

  Moments later she read off an email address, asking if it was correct. Carrie didn't recognize it.

  "Can you send it to this email address instead?"

  She gave her the correct address and quickly ended the call. Ten minutes later she'd received the email, with an attachment, which she immediately downloaded and printed.

  "Oh my God."

  She looked it over. It had been filled out with her name, business address and office telephone number, but with an unknown email address. She let out a gasp as she looked at the signature. It had been forged. She sat in stunned disbelief, unsure of what to do until it finally occurred to her to call Steve. She was about to reach for the phone, when it started to ring. She quickly answered.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Louise Dickenson's voice had an accusing tone she'd never heard before.

  "I was about to ask you the same thing," she tersely replied.

  "Oh don't act so innocent with me." Carrie heard the anger in Louise's voice. "What reason would I have for entering Gentry Magazine's photo contest? Don't you think that if I were to publish any of my photos I'd want to be credited as the photographer? Sorry, Carrie, the jig is up. You'll have to find another way to pay your mother's medical bills, and you might want to get yourself a lawyer while you're at it. My attorney just got off the phone with Gentry Magazine. We know you're the one who submitted the photos, and we know they mailed a check to your office. This is copyright infringement and plagiarism, Carrie. Did you really think I wouldn't find out about it? Karl subscribes to Gentry Magazine, you stupid little bitch, so you can imagine our surprise at what we found in our mailbox today. You, of all people, should have certainly known better, but don't you worry about that. I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget. By the time I'm through with you, you'll not only be out of business, you really will be living in that cardboard box underneath the bridge."

  "Louise, I didn't do this. Someone set me up!"

  "Yeah, right. You know, you must really think that I'm pretty damn stupid. Well, I've got news for you, Sweetness. You just picked a fight with the wrong person. Trust me, I'm someone you never, ever want to have for an enemy. My attorney will be in touch. From here on out you'll be talking to him, not me."

  Louise slammed the phone down in Carrie's ear. Carrie burst into tears and cried for several minutes. Once she finally calmed down, she stepped out to get a bottle of water and lock her front door before coming back to her desk. She took a deep breath and placed a call to Allison. She fought back the tears, when she heard her friend's voice.

  "Allie, thank goodness. I was afraid I'd get your voicemail."

  "Carrie, what's wrong?" She could hear the despair in Carrie's voice.

  "Everything. Allie, I have an emergency. I have to talk to Steve, right away. I need his work number."

  "Here you go." Allison read the number off. "Carrie, what happened?"

  "I can't talk right now, Allie, but I'll call you tonight. I promise."

  She ended the call and quickly dialed Steve's number. She was connected to his secreta
ry, who informed her that he'd stepped out.

  "But you don't understand, it's an emergency. I have to talk to him, right now."

  "And I just told you, he should be back in about fifteen minutes. If you'll just give me your name and number I'll give him the message."

  Carrie quickly gave the woman her name and number, repeating again that it was an urgent matter. She hung up the phone and waited. It seemed like an eternity before her phone finally rang.

  "Carrie, this is Steve. What's up?"

  "Someone's out to ruin me." She quickly filled him in on the details.

  "Holy crap! Carrie, I want you to listen to me closely and do everything I tell you to do. First, I want you to call your webmaster. Tell him to take your website down, immediately. Then I want you to gather up everything that was in that envelope, along with the release form, and take it with you. I want you to go straight home. As soon as you get there, I want you to call the police and have them send an officer over to take a report. Keep you door locked and don't open it unless it's me, or Allie, or the police. And don't answer your phone, unless you know who's calling."

  "Steve, you're scaring me."

  "Carrie, you have an enemy out there. Someone's gone to a great deal of trouble to set you up. Right now we don't know who it is and what else they're capable of."

  Carrie shuddered. She was genuinely frightened.

  "What about Louise? She's made it abundantly clear that she's going to sue me for breach of contract, copyright infringement, plagiarism, and who knows what else."

  "We can help you with that. There's a guy in our office that specializes in this sort of thing. He has an excellent track record so you'll be in the best of hands. He's in court today and tomorrow, but if you'll hold on for a moment I'll go talk to his secretary and find out how soon we can get you in to see him."

  Steve put her on hold. While she waited, she took a few more deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves. In a minute, he was back on the line.

  "Alex has an opening at three o'clock on Thursday. I've already scheduled it for you and I'll make sure I'm there too. Do you need the address?"

  "Yes."

  Steve gave her the address and she looked it up on Google. At least his office was close to her apartment.

  "I'll see you on Thursday, Carrie, and I'll fill Alex in before you get here. In the meantime, if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me, or Allie, right away."

  "I will, and thank you, Steve."

  Carrie called her webmaster as soon as she hung up. Within minutes her website disappeared from the web. She gathered everything up in the envelope before setting the alarm, locking the door and quickly heading home.

  Fifteen

  Carrie arrived at Steve's office a few minutes early. She introduced herself to the receptionist and took a seat in the waiting area. The office was beautifully decorated with plush furnishings, confirming her fear that their services would not come cheap. She set her satchel down and nervously began flipping through one of the magazines laying on the coffee table. Her ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice.

  "I have to make a quick phone call, Brenda. Is my three o'clock here?"

  "Yes, Alex."

  "Good. Tell Steve I'll be ready in a couple minutes. We'll be meeting in the conference room."

  Carrie looked up, but whoever was talking to Brenda had already left. She shrugged it off as nervousness. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. She turned her attention back to the magazine.

  "Carrie?"

  She looked up. "Hey, Steve."

  "Are you all right? You look a little pale."

  "I'm fine. As you can imagine, I've been under a lot of stress and I haven't been sleeping very well."

  "I understand. Are you ready?"

  She nodded as she rose from her chair, picked up her satchel and followed him to the conference room.

  "Alex, your three o'clock is here," he announced as he stepped inside.

  Carrie abruptly stopped in the doorway. She couldn't believe who she was seeing. He'd filled out over the years, but she knew those distinctive gray eyes and curly blond hair. He was seated in one of the high-backed leather chairs surrounding the cherry wood conference table. A broad smile broke out across his face as he looked up from her file and recognized her.

  "Well hey, Carrie-Anne."

  "You remembered?"

  "How could I forget our song?"

  He walked up her and they embraced, lingering in each other's arms. Reluctantly, she stepped back and began to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

  "I understand the two of you already know one another," said Steve as he handed her a tissue.

  "Yes." Carrie dabbed her eyes as they took their seats. "Alex and I go all the way back to the fourth grade. I was the kid that everyone else hated because I was on TV, and Alex was the skinny, nerdy guy who took pity on me. He and Allie were my two best friends, but then we lost touch with one another about ten years ago. So, Alex, what have you been doing since then?"

  "Going to college, going to law school, and coming to work here. And you?"

  "Going to college, becoming a photographer, and most recently, watching my entire world go up in flames." The smile instantly faded from her face.

  "Alex has gone over your file," explained Steve. "I've brought him up to speed on everything."

  She looked at Alex. "So, you've seen them?"

  He lifted up his folder, revealing the current issue of Gentry Magazine hidden underneath.

  "Yes, I have."

  Her face began turning red. "Alex, I need you to understand something. I'd been living with someone, long term, and during that time my mother had a stroke."

  "I know. Steve told me about her insurance running out and you going broke trying to take care of her."

  "That's right. So when Doug dumped me, I was literally left homeless. I was camped out in my office. Then Louise called and offered me that photo shoot. I was desperate. I needed the money so I could find a decent place to live. That was the only reason I agreed to do it. She promised me the photos would only go to serious art collectors and that I'd remain anonymous. I don't want you getting the wrong idea."

  "I understand and I'm not judging you, but now we have to deal with the consequences. Steve tells me someone set you up, and Louise has threatened to take legal action against you."

  "I'm afraid so." She reached into the satchel, removing Caleb Wyman's letter and the check, and handing them over to Alex. "This arrived at my office two days ago. I swear, on everything that is holy, that I never, ever, entered their photo contest. When I came across those two photos of me, along with my name identifying me as the model, I totally freaked out."

  "I understand. So what did you do after that?"

  "As soon as I calmed down, I called Mr. Wyman's office, and when whoever she was answered, I told her I'd lost my copy of the release form, and could she email me another. She asked me to verify the email address they had on file. Alex, it wasn't my email address. It was one I'd never heard of."

  "Did you tell her that?"

  "No," she replied. "I didn't want to tip my hand. I simply said it wasn't correct and I gave her my real email address. They sent me the release form a few minutes later. As soon as it arrived I printed it out."

  She reached into the satchel again, handing the release form to Alex.

  "Look closely at the signature."

  She reached into her purse, retrieved a pen and asked for a piece of scratch paper. As soon as Steve handed it to her she signed her name on it and handed it to Alex.

  "Now that's my signature."

  Alex studied the two side by side. "It's not that good of a forgery. Whoever did this may have thought they were being smart, but it's the work of an amateur. We'll turn this over to our handwriting expert."

  "Then this arrived in my apartment mailbox this morning." She handed Alex a business-sized envelope. It bore the logo of another law firm.

  "It's from
Louise Dickenson's attorney," Alex said to Steve as he opened the letter. "No surprise here. He's letting her know they intend to file a case against her. I'll get a letter off to him in the morning, along with a copy of the release form, and let them know it's a forgery. Hopefully, they'll back off."

  "What happens if they don't? When Louise called me, I tried to tell her I'd been set up, but she wouldn't listen to me. She intends to destroy me. She's got a vindictive side to her I've never seen before."

  "We're going to take care of you," replied Alex. "Carrie-Anne, you're not alone here. We know that you didn't do anything wrong, and we're here to help you. We're also going to find out who did this to you. Identity theft and forgery are both state and federal crimes, and I'll do my best to see to it that whoever did this will end up serving some hard time."

  "Okay." She took a deep breath. "I was afraid of this. So I need the two of you to understand something. It's about your fee."

  "Carrie, listen, I--"

  "Please, Steve, just hear me out. I wanted you to know that I've made arrangements to pay your fee."

  "How? You're broke."

  "Steve, listen to me, please. I did everything you told me to do after I got off the phone with you. I took down my website and went straight home. As soon as I got there I went to my laptop to check my email. Before my website went down a film company in California contacted me, so I gave them a call. I'm driving to Los Angeles next week to meet with them. They've offered me a significant sum of money, and once again, I'm desperate."

  "What kind of film company, Carrie-Anne?"

  "What kind do you think, Alex? It's an adult film company. They've offered me enough to cover your retainer, as well as to pay down some of the balance of my mother's nursing home bill."

  The two men looked at one another in stunned disbelief before Alex finally spoke up.

  "Not on my watch."

  "Look, Alex, I think we've already established the fact that I've fallen from grace, and now my photography business is, for all intents and purposes, shut down. I have bills to pay and no money coming in my door."

 

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