by John Moore
I went back to my condo, and Zach was sitting on the steps waiting for me. We went inside and closed and locked the door. “I thought you left town,” I said.
“I sent Maddy to one of her friends,” Zach said. “I was called by Clinton Cunningham. He wants you and me to go to a party together tonight.”
I searched his eyes to make sense of what he’d just said. “A party? Are you crazy?”
“It’s a party thrown by some wealthy old guard folks in New Orleans,” Zach said. “Clint felt like we ought to go. He’s gotten us an invite. He said to dress sexy and bring a mask. It’s one of those kinky kind of parties.”
I still didn’t get it. “Why does he want us to go to a kinky party?”
“He said things aren’t always what they appear to be. We should go and keep our eyes open. Clint added Victor is bringing in high-priced female talent for the affair, free of charge. It’s part of his wooing of the New Orleans city fathers.”
Clint must have his reasons for sending me to an event for Victor. He wanted Victor out of town as much as I did. Zach gave me one of the party invitations and told me he’d be at my condo at eight o’clock tonight. I didn’t think it was the type of party I’d go to by choice, but what the hell did I have to lose? The thought of nailing Victor made me anxious to go. I wanted to see who would show up to a soiree like that.
Zach left to catch the streetcar to whoever’s house he was crashing at for the night. The gay culture in New Orleans has created a close-knit family. They really take care of each other. It’s not unusual for gay residents to offer their couches and floors to out-of-towners coming to party in the Big Easy. In addition to Mardi Gras, Southern Decadence is a city-wide event that draws gay people from around the world. They fill up the hotels and couches of the entire city. It’s quite a spectacle to behold. They are one large family. And they treat each other like family. They have spats but coalesce if someone outside their community threatens them. It’s a shame everyone can’t treat each other like that all the time.
I’d barely had time to clean my place when I had another knock at my front door. It was Ms. Butler. She was here to do a court-ordered home inspection of my living arrangements. I thought it odd that she just showed up without an appointment. Then I remembered she didn’t have my cell number and I’d told Piper not to give it to anyone. So I decided to let her in. She took the tour of my small condo in less than five minutes. Not much to see.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked.
“Yes, Ms. Lee, as a matter of fact I would. How long have you lived in this place?”
“Not long, for about three years,” I answered.
Ms. Butler took a sip of coffee. “Mmm, that’s good,” she said. “It’s a nice condo, but don’t you think it’s too small for you and Constance? She doesn’t have a bed to sleep in. A girl her age needs some privacy and a place to sleep. I don’t mean a couch either. What about her clothes? Where are you going to put her clothes? She doesn’t have a dresser of her own. Where will she do her homework? Here at the kitchen table?”
All of the rapid-fire questions were not really designed to get an answer. They were supposed to make me see how untenable my condo was for custody of Piper. I dodged the opportunity to answer them. I told her we were looking for a more suitable place as well as a school where she’d feel comfortable. Of course she didn’t listen to my answers. That’s not why she was really here. She was looking for reasons to take custody away from Tom and me.
“I understand Constance’s uncle is in jail in Mexico. Is that correct?” she asked. “Can you give me any time frame when you expect him to be released, or is he going to have to serve time in Mexico? I know the charges are very serious. The Mexican government considers him a terrorist.”
Wow. How did she know that the Mexican government was considering filing eco-terrorism charges against Tom? It could have come from Jaeger, but I didn’t think he was interested in Tom. The more likely source was Victor. Jess warned me he’d gotten the Department of Family Services on my ass. When I saw her sidle up to Jaeger at the center, pledging to work with him, I’d bet she was just a spy for Victor. If so, there was no use in trying to make nice with her.
“Tom has been arrested as an environmental protester. He was peacefully protesting the planting of genetically modified corn in the southern part of Mexico. The government currently forbids GMOs in the south as a danger to native corn that has been the chief source of food for Mexicans for centuries. He’s a hero in my book. Now, are we done here?” I asked.
She left with a confident look on her face. She’d obviously gotten what she’d come for. She could tell the court my condo was too small for the proper care of a young lady. I had to find a way to expose her for the fake she was. Maybe Piper could use her magic fingers to dig up some dirt on Ms. Butler.
I emailed Piper her mission to check into DARPA’s web surfing program and also to find out what she could about Butler. Piper bounced right back to me. She’d already hacked DARPA’s program. That was the software she and her California friend had improved. She could find out anything about anybody on the dark web. She went right to work digging into Victor’s connections to Tiffany and everyone else on the web. If it were there, she’d find it.
She said finding the dirt on Butler might require some of her black hat tactics. So she contacted some of her friends in LA to do the dirty work for her. They would need a day or two but would find every secret she had. Piper said they would even be able to tell me if she wore thong underwear or granny panties. I suspected that mental image would take some serious scrubbing to erase.
I had to hustle. Time had flown by. I needed to find a dress and mask for the big event tonight. Zach told me it was a dressy affair. Of course it was some type of party involving high-priced call girls. Sex had to be on the menu. I picked a dress that accented my boobs. I hadn’t displayed them to the city since Tom and I started dating. I squeezed them into a push-up bra, allowing their abundance to overflow. The tight bra I chose guaranteed there would be no wardrobe malfunction. I put my hair on top of my head and donned some of Sarah’s dangling earrings. I broke out my Jimmy Choo shoes and some sparkling bracelets. I overdid my makeup. I was farmgirl-turned-Cinderella again, ready for the ball. Only there wouldn’t be any Prince Charming at this event. Just a bunch of horny rich people walking the edge of morality.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was sexy in that slutty kinda way. A few years ago I would have been proud of the way I looked. But not now; I was embarrassed. I was no longer interested in having random men lust after me. I wanted a family life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight:
Dark World
Zach showed up in a blue outfit accented by a feathered peacock mask. I was afraid to ask why he owned such a thing, though it looked good on him. I followed the instructions on the invitation to a spacious house on the lakefront, the grounds finely landscaped with crepe myrtles and roses. I had no idea whose house it was, but I knew they were rich. The street was lined with expensive cars. The New Orleans Mercedes dealership doesn’t have that many S-Class cars. This place screamed money.
Zach and I showed our invitations at the door, and then made our way inside to the center of the house. The furnishings were all contemporary. The floor was made of wide pine planks, dark stained, but everything else was light. The open floor plan allowed us to circulate from room to room without any obstruction.
Elegantly dressed people with faces covered with masks chatted in the great room. Scantily-clad women flirted openly, performing pre-sex acts for all to see. I blushed under my mask. Zach confided he’d been to many parties like this. These were rich, bored elites spicing their lives with rented sex partners. He warned me the swapping would begin soon. I braced myself, not knowing if my Midwestern upbringing would allow me to endure the spectacle. I didn’t want to be here. These people were not living authentic lives. They we
re distracting themselves with sex, booze, and drugs. All were used to stimulate dopamine production in their brains. Dopamine is the feel-good neurotransmitter that elicits the pleasure response, making us temporarily feel good, but it doesn’t last. The after-crash puts the addict in a worse place than he was before the high. As Mr. Morris had explained to me, sugar produced similar dopamine reactions. That is why people find it hard to cut back, because they are addicted.
Even though I wanted no part of their world, I had to mingle. What had Clint meant, things aren’t always what they seem? Zach and I drifted from cluster to cluster of people jabbering on about themselves. It was easy to spot Victor’s girls because they were the young and pretty ones. Most attendees were middle-aged men, with a sprinkling of older women. They sipped their wine and in some cases whiskey, keeping their eyes on the quarry supplied by their host.
All of the conversations I participated in eventually drifted their way to sex. Couples paired off and disappeared into rooms as the night progressed. I engaged with as many people as I could, using my Lois Lane instincts to glean information from each of them. No one used his or her correct name. Around eleven o’clock the alcohol broke down all inhibitions. The scene descended into a full-blown orgy with people-tangles everywhere I looked, couples, groups, male on male, female on female, and every other combination imaginable. My church upbringing urged me to get the hell out of there. I didn’t want to blow my cover, so I feigned a migraine. I’ve never said no in so many ways in my life. The best answer was to say Zach and I were newlyweds. That got some people’s imaginations going, but they didn’t push it, other than to remark that we certainly were getting an education. Yeah, just not the one they thought.
I couldn’t stand what I was seeing any longer. I made Zach take me out of there.
My stomach turned somersaults as I tried to make my eyes unsee what they insisted they’d seen. So that is what rich people in New Orleans do for amusement. Surely not all of them? I scanned the repulsive images in my mind to identify what Clint wanted me to see. Maybe it was Victor’s girls? I still had no idea, and Zach couldn’t figure it out either, though he wasn’t repulsed by anything he’d seen. He’d walked those paths before, and now he was paying the price.
“In my younger days I would have been right in the middle of the action,” Zach said. “All drugged up, prostituting myself for more drugs. I don’t miss that lifestyle at all. Maddy and I want a stable life doing healthy things. We’re going to work and pool our money so someday we’ll save enough to be organic farmers.”
I was elated to hear the change in Zach. He’d finally gotten himself on track. I dropped Zach at his friend’s house and headed to my condo. I took another shower before going the bed just because I felt dirty after witnessing the dark world in the suburbs of New Orleans. I had no idea parties like that went on in the city.
The next day I had an appointment to see Mr. Swartz. When we sat down in his office to talk, he was stiff and formal. I knew he couldn’t have good news for me. He always stiffened up when he had to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. I guess it was a defense mechanism he’d developed practicing law. He must have had to deliver bad news quite often.
“I have been contacted again by ACC’s lawyers,” he said. “They are insisting you make your choice of contractors. They say if they don’t hear from me within two weeks the deal is off. I know Tom wanted to supervise the work, but given his current situation, I don’t see how that is possible.”
“I am sorry for the delay. I know we are not keeping up our end of the bargain, Mr. Swartz. I’ll definitely have a name for you within two weeks. Tom should be back from Mexico soon.”
Oh my God. Did I just lie to my lawyer or was I just doing some wishful thinking? I was going to have to make the judgment call myself if Sophia didn’t spring Tom soon. I missed him every night and every day. It was so hard waking up without him next to me.
“There’s a second matter we need to discuss,” Swartz said. “We had a telephone conference with the judge in your custody case yesterday after the Department of Family Services visited your house. Of course your current legal problems were discussed. I assured the court you were being wrongfully accused. The judge said time would tell, but even if you were cleared, your living arrangements would have to change for her to consider awarding you custody of Constance. She could not place a child in a living arrangement without a bed of her own. Have you given any thought to what you can do about finding a new place?”
“Yes, we have looked at several places. I know we will have to move, but with everything that is going on moving hasn’t been my priority,” I said.
“It needs to become a priority if you hope to win custody of Constance. We need to have a plan ready in two weeks detailing how you intend to take care of her,” he said. “I am sorry to load you up with these requirements, but I have no choice. The court has asked the child’s mother to do the same. Her lawyer informed me she intends to take Constance back to California to live. The Department of Family Services’ attorney advised the court that the foster parents were prepared to care for the child till custody was awarded. From what I can tell, right now, you are the court’s third choice for custody.”
“Oh shit. Mr. Swartz, you think I might lose her, don’t you? I can’t let that happen. May I visit Piper, I mean Constance?” I asked.
He picked up the phone and called the attorney for the Department of Family Services, the foster mother, and the judge while I waited. They agreed to the visit on the condition that I went to the foster family’s house immediately. Not a problem. I really needed to see Piper. I missed her. I didn’t know what I’d do if the judge sent her to California.
I left Mr. Swartz’s office racking my brain for a solution to my living arrangements on my way to the foster family’s home. I didn’t want to make any plans for Tom and me with him still in Mexico. How the hell was I going to get a new place in the next two weeks? Holy shit, my new place might be a jail cell if Jaeger had anything to say about it. And even if that didn’t happen, I’d need Tom’s signature on a lease to get a big enough place, my income falling short of what was needed.
The foster family’s house was in a swanky subdivision. The family obviously had money. A very pleasant woman in her mid-forties greeted me at the front door. She showed me into her family room. When we passed the kitchen, I did a double take. There, seated at the kitchen table, was one of the couples I’d seen last night at the party. I was sure it was them. What was going on here?
I looked at the lady escorting me and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”
“No problem. That’s my brother and his wife from Los Angeles. He’s in town for business. He works for some European company. I’m not sure what he does. Something to do with the Internet I think.”
Holy shit, now I knew why Clint sent us to the orgy party. He wanted me to see these people. That means the European company he worked for was really Victor’s mafia group. Probably Ms. Butler was working with Victor too, placing Piper in this foster home at Victor’s request. He’d outsmarted Jaeger. He must be planning to kidnap Piper and make it look like she ran away, or maybe he had something else planned. Whatever he had up his sleeve involved these Californians. He thought his fingerprints weren’t on this subterfuge. Well, he was about to find out he was wrong. I was going to fix his ass.
Piper ran into the room and jumped on me. She threw her arms around my neck and hung on. I put my arms around her back and spun around. Her legs flew through the air as we twirled, the joy in my heart hard to contain. I could never be separated from this little girl.
We sat on the sofa next to each other, and I whispered to her, “Piper, I need you to find out some information for me. Listen carefully. I think your foster mother’s brother is working for Victor. I need you to find out everything you can about them. I need proof that they are connected to the Russian Mafia. It�
�s the only way I’m going to convince the court to let you stay with me.”
“I can do that,” she said. “Now let me tell you what I found out digging in Ms. Butler’s life. She recently deposited $25,000 into her checking account. The check was written on a bank in the Cayman Islands. The company who wrote the check is named the European Collaborative Organization. I tracked its incorporation papers to Liechtenstein. The Collaborative is owned by Victor Ivanovich. Copies of the incorporation papers will be in your email tomorrow. You will also receive a copy of the check made out to Ms. Baker. I can’t tell you who got this for me or how they did it. So you can’t give it to the police or any other authorities. Maybe you can find another way to use the information.”
I grabbed Piper and kissed her cherub cheeks. “Piper, you are amazing. I can use this all right. Finally, some ammunition to fight back with,” I said. “Today is getting better with every passing moment.”
Piper’s foster mother came into the room. She apologized for the interruption but said it was time for Piper to get cleaned up for supper. I hated to leave, but I had my work cut out for me if I was going to put all the information together into some sort of strategy to beat these bastards. Piper and I kissed and hugged, and I left her with her foster parents and Victor’s pals from California.
I couldn’t help but think about what Tom had said to me long ago when I was battling Bart Rogan: “These devils are like cockroaches; they thrive in the darkness and shadows. Shine a light on them and they scatter.” That’s what I needed to do. Use my talents as a writer to expose them. How could I do that without compromising Piper or her friend? The only way they could have gotten this information was through illegal means. I couldn’t put them in jeopardy. I pondered the questions while I drove. Nothing came to mind, so I asked my mother and Sarah for guidance. As I drove I got a gut feeling I needed to go to the shelter. Maybe it was my mom and Sarah guiding me, or maybe it was intuition. Whichever it was, I was going to follow it, learning long ago to listen to my intuition, knowing it spoke to me for a reason.