Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit

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Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Page 14

by Paul T. Goldman


  “Uh, no,” he chuckled softly. “Is that what she told you? Paul, I live about a mile from you and have for the past three years, since Tommy was born.” I paused to let what he was saying sink in. Just when I thought nothing she would pull could surprise me, something did.

  “You’re kidding,” was all I could muster.

  “Why don’t we meet at the IHOP on PGA around nine?” he suggested, and I agreed immediately.

  Driving to IHOP the following morning, I tried to recall all the things Audrey had told me about Bob, and the details were vague. I did remember Audrey claiming that Bob was worth millions, but after Tommy’s birth, he didn’t want to support them and so he took off. Since Bob claimed he’d been living close by since Tommy’s birth, it was obvious Audrey had lied about him, which led me to wonder what other lies I would discover through Bob.

  Entering the diner, I immediately recognized the man I knew was Bob; Tommy was a carbon copy of his father. Walking right up to him, already seated at the table, I extended my hand and said, “Hello, Bob. I’m Paul. It’s good to meet you.” Bob stood up and shook my hand with a smile and a nod. After a gesture to join him, we both wasted no time in delving into our lives with Audrey. “Tell me, how long were you married to Audrey?” I asked.

  “Four months,” he responded, as he stirred his coffee.

  “Four months?” I repeated, smiling at what I thought was a coincidence. “You’re kidding! Why only four months?”

  “No, I’m not kidding,” he set his spoon down, and raised his cup to his mouth. After taking a careful sip, he looked right at me and said, “I couldn’t take her lies anymore. She lied about her family background, claiming she was part of the Allen family who founded the Allen conglomerate.” I almost choked on my coffee.

  “Wait, there's no connection to those Allens?” I asked, wiping my mouth. At that moment, the waitress arrived with his waffle and my omelet. When she left, he continued.

  “None. Privately, I asked her father about it, and he said it was simply a coincidence that their names were the same. That was actually one of my first clues that Audrey was a fraud.”

  “Unbelievable. And there were other lies?” I asked, wanting to know more.

  “Well, for the last two months of our marriage she spent most of her time insisting her name be put on my assets.” At this, my fist dropped to the table, my omelet quivered, bits of bacon flew into the air and my coffee sloshed over the edge of my cup.

  “Sorry, I’m sorry about that Bob,” and I grabbed a napkin to wipe up the spill. “I didn’t mean to do that, it’s just, I just can’t believe it. What you’re describing, it’s exactly what happened to me.” I was shaking my head, the anger over being used returned and my emotions were raw. Taking a moment to let myself calm down, we sat in silence, quietly eating our breakfast. “By the way, where did you meet Audrey?”

  “I met her with a buddy of mine in the bar of a restaurant in Palm Beach,” he recalled, as he sat back in his seat. “Audrey said she was there waiting for a girlfriend of hers, but that was a lie. Clearly, she was alone trying to pick up a wealthy guy and I just happened to be the lucky one,” he said with a grin. “We talked with her for a while, invited her to eat dinner with us, and then afterward, she gave me her phone number. Almost immediately, we were dating.”

  “How long did you date?” I asked.

  “Just a few months,” he admitted. “I asked her to move in with me, but almost immediately, things started going badly. I kept catching her in these lies, one after another. Lies about where she’d been, her background, and the stories just kept changing. She couldn’t keep everything straight. After four months of this, I had enough and was ready to break up with her.”

  But you married her instead?” I asked, eager to hear the whole story. Listening to Bob, a part of me felt relieved that I wasn’t the only victim of her treachery.

  “Well, it was around Thanksgiving of 2002. I was all set to break up with her and then she surprised me with a dozen big balloons with the words, ‘Just Say Yes’ emblazoned across them. I guess you could say I was caught up in the moment, and she was so sweet and endearing. We hopped on a plane to Vegas and were married the very next day.”

  “And then what happened?” I was absolutely captivated by his story and, admittedly, I felt a twinge of jealousy on learning that Audrey had actually proposed to Bob. She never would have done the same to me.

  “There were constant arguments because I could never trust her. Plus, she was always asking me to put her name on my assets, something I refused to do until we resolved some of our issues. Then, a couple months in, the tech bubble burst and I lost a lot of money.”

  “Sorry, Bob.”

  “Well, I told Audrey that we would have to live a little more frugally for a bit, on a budget of $100,000 a year.”

  “That seems generous,” I said. “Most people live on a lot less.” Again, Bob grinned.

  “Yeah, but Audrey didn’t quite see it that way. She told me she’d never live on a budget. Eventually, I just got so fed up with her lies and her demands, I filed for divorce and moved back to Connecticut. A few weeks later, just when I thought I was free of her, Audrey called to tell me she was pregnant. Of course, I had the court order a DNA test to make sure the child was mine, since I reasonably had some doubts.”

  “Well, at least one great thing resulted from the relationship. I've spent time with Tommy, and he's wonderful,” I said, with a nod. “Tell me, though, did she ever steal anything from you?”

  “Quite consistently, actually,” he admitted. “She would steal money from my wallet and from a coin box where I kept loose change. When I called her on it, she would argue that, as my wife, what’s mine is hers and all that. Normally, I might agree, but she was sneaky about it and would never tell me what she needed the money for. Then, a few months ago, she came over to the house with the kids, using them as a distraction no doubt, and she stole a ring my grandfather had given me.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, not believing Audrey could be that unscrupulous.

  “I’m not kidding,” he said, his expression showed real anger for the first time. “She had the kids lead me out to the lake to feed the ducks, so she could go upstairs and steal my recent tax returns. Unfortunately, my grandfather's ring was in the same desk drawer, and she stole that too.”

  “This is all so unbelievable. I mean, was your arrangement the same? Our marriage originally began as part-time while she was taking care of her grandmother in Cocoa Beach every Saturday through Wednesday. I’m not sure about you... ” Bob cut me off before I could say any more.

  “Cocoa Beach? I don't know how to tell you this, Paul, but she wasn’t in Cocoa Beach. She's been here every Monday for years.”

  “I’m sorry, she was in this area every Monday?” I asked in disbelief. “How would you know that?”

  “Because I've been bringing Tommy to her trailer in Stuart every Monday. Our divorce stipulates that I have Tommy on the weekends, and Audrey has him during the week.

  “Oh,” was all I could manage. The omelet I had only half-eaten was now a rock in my stomach. I felt sick. Audrey had planned the whole thing. She had a pre-planned con to try to make a grab for my assets from the day we started dating. I was simply her third victim.

  “So, one of the main reasons I wanted to meet with you today, Paul, is because Audrey is suing me and Joe Munson for additional child support. Of course, Joe and I are counter-suing her for full custody, with the argument that she's an unfit mother due to her lifestyle. She’s constantly at the bars, she’s got a new boyfriend every month. Do you know that in the last year she has moved in and broken up with four different men? She’s incapable of anything honest, let alone a long term relationship.” But all I heard was “four men.” Audrey had been with four men over the last year while I was trying everything I could to piece our family back together.

  “I can’t believe it,” I whispered, bracing my hands on the table for some balance. Th
e room was spinning and my head was pounding. “Four men… ”

  “Well, four that my private eye found out about.”

  “Four. I just, I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.” I was finding it hard to look at Bob.

  “Join the club, Paul. How do you think I feel with my son being carted around like a piece of luggage? Constantly living with a revolving door of strange men.” And he was right, Tommy was the worst victim in all of this. I was an adult, I could recognize what she was, what she has done. But Tommy? How could this not affect the rest of his life? At that moment, I just wanted to see Johnny. I just wanted to hold him. Then Bob pulled out a piece of paper. “So, tell me your story. In particular, whatever you can tell me about Audrey’s treatment of Tommy when you were together.”

  * * *

  May marked the beginning of our attempts to reach a divorce settlement through mediation. It had been well over a month since I first met with Bob, and though we had spoken a few times thereafter, the initial sting of realizing the unbelievable depths of Audrey’s treachery had eased a bit. No longer shocked, I had resigned myself to the fact that she was a woman who knew no bounds and, using that understanding, I didn't hesitate to tell my lawyer that I wanted to play hardball in every possible way.

  Audrey’s lawyer, Jack Smith, had converted a small white house in Palm Beach into his office and it was there we held our mediation. Unfortunately, I got lost finding the place and was a little late. When I entered the room where we were to meet, I was immediately confronted by the presence of Audrey, seated at a large round table with her lawyer, my lawyer Adam Nettles, and the mediator. After brief introductions that found me fighting every urge to hurl a slew of insults her way, Audrey and her lawyer went upstairs to allow the mediation to begin.

  “First thing I want to tell you, Paul,” the mediator began, “is that everything you say to me is confidential. I will repeat nothing to Jack or Audrey without your permission.” The mediator was an attractive forty-something woman who seemed earnest in her assurances. I nodded and told her I understood before she continued, “Now Paul, tell me why we're here today.” Though I wanted to scream that Audrey was a lying, conniving bitch, I went with a more reasonable approach and told the mediator about our history while also providing her with copies of emails from Audrey asking me to make checks payable to FLHC. When I was finished, I told her to tell Audrey to simply walk away. The mediator collected my papers, and went upstairs, returning ten minutes later.

  “They want $100,000.” the mediator said, not revealing any sign of judgment, “because under Florida law, the California townhouse is presumed to be a gift. According to that, Audrey is due half the equity.” Seeing my anger quickly begin to bubble, Adam stepped in.

  “Yes, there is a presumption of gift statute,” he said to the mediator, “but built into the statute are ways to rebut it, such as length of the marriage, the fact that Audrey contributed nothing to the down payment nor the mortgage payments, and the contribution of each party to the marriage. She even defrauded Paul out of nearly $7,000 during the marriage, and you’ve seen those documents.” Happy to hear Adam so convincingly lay out our argument, I turned to the mediator.

  “So, there's no way they're going to win in court,” I said, “but given how much it’ll probably cost me in legal fees, I’d be willing to offer her $20,000.” At this point, I just wanted to be rid of her. The mediator again went upstairs with our offer, and this time she was gone twenty minutes.

  “They refused your offer,” she stated, but this time her demeanor was not as stoic.

  Her expression seemed troubled as she continued, “I got a sense… what she really wants is your house in Jupiter. I’m not sure how you’d feel about it, but perhaps you could sell it to her for $40,000 below the market value? They might go for that.” The suggestion seemed reasonable, and so we spent the next fifteen minutes structuring the offer. For a third time, the mediator made the trip upstairs and this time she was gone thirty minutes.

  “They have accepted your offer, Paul. Congratulations, it’s over,” the mediator announced with a smile when she returned, extending her hand to me. Relieved to be done with it, I ignored the resentment I felt over the fact that Audrey would be living in my house. If anything, Audrey would be doing me a favor. Given the loss of my business, I was struggling to make the mortgage on the house, and with the slow real estate market, I would have had a hard time finding a buyer. By selling it to Audrey, I would be able to get out from under its payments.

  After the necessary paperwork was completed, Adam and I walked out of the office and into the parking lot. The fresh air felt absolutely invigorating and I breathed easier than I had in a long time. Finally, a chance to start over. Adam and I shook hands before returning to our cars. I could have run home. The gray clouds were gone.

  And then they returned. Early the next morning, after only a few hours of enjoying life without Audrey in it, Adam called to inform me that the deal was off.

  “What? Shit, what happened?” I asked, knowing it was all too good to be true.

  “Well, Jack Smith called me to say that Audrey’s father reneged on what he agreed to yesterday, to have his name on her loan. With her bad credit, she couldn’t qualify for a loan herself. Sorry, Paul, the deal is off.”

  I slowly hung up the phone, not believing what Adam had said. It seemed like every time things were beginning to look up, the phone would ring with more bad news. I wanted to unplug it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Medium

  As was becoming typical of my Saturday nights since the separation, I put Johnny to bed in the evening after reading countless bedtime stories, followed by the brushing of teeth, and the reciting of prayers. I kissed him good night with a promise to meet him in our dreams for a round of catch, and I headed downstairs for a beer, an occasional movie, and some quality time with my lady. As always, she was waiting patiently for me on the couch, her big, blue eyes staring up at me, anticipating my return. Taking a moment to allow me to situate myself next to her, she would push herself against me and nuzzle my neck, her favorite way of expressing her affection aside from licking my face. Though I had only known her for a short time, I knew I loved her too and I also knew, unlike Audrey, she would forever be loyal and trustworthy. Of course she would be. She was, after all, my dog Queenie.

  Settling down with Queenie and some music playing low, I began sorting through a box of business cards and notes I’d kept to see if I might be able to take advantage of some old contacts for the purpose of employment. Judge Andrews’ words to “find a job soon” coupled with my increasingly dire financial outlook, meant finding some form of income had to take priority above all else. Though most of the cards were from other contractors looking for a referral partnership, some were from business people I had met over the years, and I set them aside for consideration. It was at that time, however, that I happened upon the name Terri Lynn, a professional psychic and a perfect opportunity to procrastinate in my job search. I looked down at Queenie with a smile and remembered how I first came to find Terri.

  After Basel died and before I rescued Queenie from the pound, there was Kingy, another poodle and a great pet for both Johnny and me. We would take him everywhere and, when we bought the house in Jupiter Lakes, Kingy loved to run around outside in the expansive backyard, rolling around in the grass and chasing lizards. On one particular rainy day in July, I headed downstairs to talk with Johnny after a quick shower. He was almost five at the time and just beginning to realize what would later turn into a “Star Wars” obsession.

  “Hey, buddy, where’s Kingy?” I asked as I ran my fingers through my still wet hair.

  “Kingy left,” Johnny responded, without taking his eyes off the two storm troopers he was manipulating into rather fierce combat.

  “What do you mean, Kingy left?” I asked curiously.

  “Kingy left,” he repeated, but this time he looked up at me with what seemed like concern. Sensing that s
omething was amiss, I ran out into the rain to scan the backyard, the front yard, and the neighboring lawns. Our poodle was nowhere in sight. I then went to the alligator-inhabited lake behind our house, fearing the worst. Still, no Kingy. Johnny and I spent the remainder of the day making flyers and decorating the neighborhood with them. We also went to every veterinarian and animal shelter in the area, but to no avail. One week and many tears later, I told Johnny we would try something else, anything else to let a desperate father ease his son’s pain. Logging on to my computer, I Googled “pet psychics” to see if we could be helped.

  Now, I realize that there is a strong distinction between those who do not believe in alternative mediums and the paranormal, and those who do. I'm not suggesting that I'm an avid ghost hunter, but I do consider myself very spiritual and have always at least considered the possibility that some people do in fact possess inexplicable abilities to sense and see things the rest of us cannot. Having found Terri Lynn, I decided to give her a call, as much to appease my son as to satisfy my own curiosities. Terri, a woman whose website identified her not only as a pet psychic, but also as a professional medium who had even worked with the police on various murder and missing persons cases, “tuned in” to the situation immediately and, with few details from me, had an explanation for Kingy’s disappearance.

  “Within a minute of him leaving your house, he was picked up,” she explained, speaking so softly I had to strain to hear her. “A woman who had been over at a guy’s house for a one night stand was driving down your street on her way out of the community, saw him, opened her car door, and your dog jumped right in.” Though we had no way of knowing, her explanation seemed reasonable, especially since Kingy was only gone a few minutes before I started looking for him, and was nowhere in sight.

  Though I was still skeptical about the true value of Terri’s “gift,” I did find her likeable and believable and so I wrote down her name and number in case I ever needed her again. Now, over a year later, I found myself once again staring at her name while I slowly petted an appreciative Queenie. After everything I'd been through over the past six months, plus the reality of a courtroom drama in my near future, I was feeling more depressed and confused than ever. I knew the odds of my winning in court were great, but I was still weighed down with loneliness and questions. Chief among those questions: Why me? Talia, Daniel, and Audrey all picked me as a means to their own end. Was I “projecting” something? Was I too trusting? Too naïve? Tired of thinking and guessing and feeling miserable, I reached over and picked up the phone to get some answers from Terri.

 

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