by Rico, Lauren
Vasquez smiles at me.
“Oh, Miss James, I learned a long time ago that even the sweetest, sunniest little girl like you can wield the biggest, baddest, sharpest axe in town.”
I hold up my wrist, still in its cast.
“He did this to me, detective. He fractured my wrist. After that, he punched me in the face. This is not a good man. I mean, I thought he was. I thought I loved him…” I can’t help myself, I’m starting to get choked up.
I feel Matthew’s hand on the small of my back as he gently pushes me toward the door.
“I didn’t tell you that you could leave,” Vasquez says in a flat, cold voice. He positions himself between us and the door.
“No,” Matthew says, “you didn’t. But if you try and stop us, then you'd better be prepared to charge us with something, Detective. And if you charge us with something, Detective, you'd better be prepared for the shit storm that is going to rain down on you when my five-hundred-dollar and an hour attorney gets here.”
Vasquez takes a second to size him up, his eyes never wavering from Matthew’s. I know what he sees. And so does he, apparently, because he steps to the side as we walk out of The Box.
****
We take our hot chocolate and choose a bench in the tiny park outside City Hall.
“What can we do, Matthew?” I ask, warming my hands on the cup. “No one believes us. And I’m afraid of what Jeremy will do if we push this thing too hard.”
“It’s too much,” Matthew says, shaking his head in disgust.
“Which part?” I ask.
“All of it, Julia. Everything he did to put you at a disadvantage. We’re not talking about the usual petty head games. This guy had it in for you. He did his research, he stalked you, and he made a plan. Christ, he even beat us to the punch with the police!”
I stare at him. I hadn’t really thought about it that way before now. I haven’t wanted to.
“Julia, do you know how long Jeremy must have been working on this? He didn’t know anything about your past. He had to dig, and dig deep, to get what he needed. And then, that sick fuck found your mother. All of it, just to give himself an advantage in a stupid competition. I mean, who does that?”
If what Matthew’s saying is true, then Jeremy would have to be a monster, devoid of any feelings, totally indifferent to anyone but himself.
There’s no way I could have fallen in love with someone like that. Is there?
“Matthew, I don’t know what to do,” I say in a voice that is small. “What am I supposed to do? You can’t just un-love someone. It may not have been real for him, but it was, it is, real for me. And now, this baby…”
He starts to say something but I cut him off.
“No, please, let me finish. You’re telling me that I’ve slept with a cold, calculating killer. That the father of my child is a… psychopath or sociopath or whatever. You’re going to have to give me a little time to process this.”
“Julia, time is one thing we don’t have. Jeremy is off the rails, and no one seems to notice or care. He’s got everyone fooled. We have to find a way to expose him for who, for what he really is before someone else gets hurt. Or worse.”
We sit quietly side by side for a few minutes, sipping our drinks and watching the downtown traffic whiz by.
“I think that there is something we can do, Julia,” he says, breaking our silence. “Something that might put the spotlight back on Jeremy, and maybe even force the police to take us seriously.”
I turn on the bench and face him.
“I’m listening.”
54
I’m not the only one who is skeptical about Matthew’s plan. When we find Tony Ruggiero, he’s sitting in Central Park, pretending to take pictures of the pigeons. In truth, he’s taking pictures of the two men sitting on a bench just in front of the pigeons.
“We can come back later,” Matthew offers, but Tony just takes a few more pictures and waves him off.
“Nah, I’ve got all I need. I just had to prove those two are spending time together.”
“Since when is that illegal?” I ask out of curiosity.
He puts the camera down and smiles at me.
“Since the Securities Act of 1933. You’re looking at insider trading right there,” he explains with a nod to the harmless looking businessmen. “Anyway, come over here to this bench. No pigeons over here. I hate those fucking rats with wings.”
When we settle on a bench, far away from the cooing ‘rats,’ Tony looks at us quizzically.
“Okay, so what’s this grand plan of yours?” he asks.
Matthew looks to me, as if for confirmation, and I nod. He turns back to Tony.
“So, I’m thinking that maybe we can’t go after Jeremy legally, but we can go after him professionally.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it, Tony. If we can get the word out there… the rumor… that Jeremy killed Cal to get his spot at the Kreisler’s, I’d bet a whole lot of doors would start to close in his face.”
“Get the word out to who? Your little field trip to the police station should have set you straight on that once and for all. As long Cal’s death is on the books as an accident, no one is going to waste another second on an investigation. Based on what you’ve told me, it would seem that as far as the NYPD is concerned, this case is closed. Period. End of discussion.”
“Come on, work with me here!” Matthew coaxes. “What orchestra wants that kind of a liability? The scandal, the cloud of suspicion?” he says. “Jeez, musicians are all so damned neurotic anyway. The bastard can take auditions all he wants, but no hiring committee is going to consider someone who has even the whiff of suspicion associated with them. I think we need to go public. We tell every orchestra, every conservatory, recording studio and musician’s union within the sound of our voices that Jeremy did this, and that hiring him could put their organizations in jeopardy.”
“Whoa!” Tony says, holding up his hands. “Proof, Matthew, proof! How many times do I have to say it? We don’t have enough proof. They call it slander when you do shit like that and you don’t have proof. And you know Corrigan is just looking for something to throw at his lawyers.”
“No! Don’t you see? That’s the beauty of it, Tony! We don’t need proof to plant that seed of doubt. And tell me you can’t find a way to get the word out without linking it back to us. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
Tony is quiet for a long moment; looking down at the hands he has folded in his lap. When he looks up, it is with a face full of concern. Oh, I don’t like this face on him. If Tony is worried, we all need to be worried.
“Matt, this is what I warned you about. It has ‘back fire’ written all over it. You may very well accomplish what you’re talking about, but it’s going to have a price tag attached to it.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
Tony lowers his voice considerably and the effect is chilling.
“You should be, Matthew. You should be afraid, if not for you, then for her,” he says, swinging his gaze around to me.
“If we do it right, he’ll never know it was us,” Matthew says, leaning forward in excitement. It doesn’t matter what Tony says at this point, he is committed to his plan.
Tony sighs in frustration and tries one more time.
“You’re not hearing me,” he says more firmly. “He’s not stupid, he’ll figure it out. If you go through with this, if you succeed in blowing up this guy’s career I don’t know if I can protect you. I don’t know if anybody can. Neither of you will be safe here. You’ll have to give up your lives, your jobs, school, whatever… You’ll have to get the fuck out of town and lie low– maybe even for the rest of your lives.”
Matthew sniffs in disbelief.
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” he says.
“Julia,” Tony says, turning his attention to me. “You’ve got to talk some sense into him.”
He hikes a thumb towa
rd Matthew before continuing.
“Guys like this don’t forget who screwed them over. What you’re proposing here can easily be done, but I’m begging you to take a little time to consider the fallout.”
“Just do it,” Matthew says in a tone that leaves no room for debate.
I know in this instant that, with those three words, he has sealed our fate. Whatever it may be.
55
DING!
I pick up the phone from where it sits on the side of the tub. Matthew’s text is bright green on the screen.
Leaving rehearsal in five. General Tsao’s?
I smile. I’ve done nothing but sleep, soak in the tub and eat Chinese food for the last week. I type back with pruned fingers, trying not to drop the phone into the bubble bath.
Yes! PLEASE!
I lay my head back and close my eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. I’ve had to do a lot of that lately, as the numbness has begun to wear off and the reality of my situation has started to settle in. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s everything that’s happened, but each day I wake to find myself in a new and different state of emotional distress. I feel lost and heartbroken because I gave my heart to a man who intentionally hurt me. I’m terrified, because I’m going to be a mother– the mother of that man’s child, no less. I’m furious because my mother opted to start a brand new family, with a brand new, shiny little girl, not an hour’s drive from the orphanage where I spent nearly a decade.
And then, there’s the tiniest part of me that is excited. Excited for the new life inside of me and for the new phase of my career as the recipient of the Kreisler Silver Medal. That excitement is swiftly followed by the guilt and regret. When I look at that silver disc hanging on the blue ribbon, it is a reminder. Not of my success, but of my failings. Of my foolishness in believing that a man as handsome, sexy and charismatic as Jeremy could ever love a Plain Jane like me. Why couldn’t I see that? If only I had opened my eyes and seen it.
I haul myself out of the tub, towel off and wrap myself in a soft, pink robe. I’m rubbing a smaller towel over my wet hair when I step into my bedroom and find him there, sitting in the chair by my bed.
Holy shit. I let the towel fall to the floor.
“What are you doing here?”
“What, aren’t you happy to see me, Jules? You used to like it when I was in your bedroom, remember? Remember how I fucked you in here? How I tied you to the bed and you told me about all your pathetic little scars that daddy left behind?”
Damn! I left the phone on the edge of the tub. I look at the clock. Matthew was leaving rehearsal in five minutes. That was fifteen minutes ago. It’ll take him nearly half hour on the subway, then another fifteen minutes for the takeout… Oh, hell. I’m on my own. I swallow hard and will my voice to sound normal rather than frightened. He can smell weakness.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” I offer as casually as possible.
He squints a little, as if looking at me from a different perspective will make me easier to understand.
“No. You and I need to have a little chat,” he says, getting to his feet. Now we are facing each other from opposite sides of the bed.
“What about?” I ask.
“Oh, I think you know what,” he says with a twisted little smile.
Is it possible that he knows I’m pregnant? No. No way. Or is it? I look back at him blankly and then shake my head.
“No, Jeremy, I’m afraid I don’t,” I say. “Would you mind excusing me for just a second? I’m going to pop into the bathroom and put on some clothes. Then we can talk about whatever you like…”
I start to make a move toward my closet and the bathroom that is on the other side of it.
“Stay right there,” he barks, and I stop, startled by his tone.
“Jeremy, what is it? For goodness sake, I just want to get dressed. And considering the way you dumped me, I’d rather not do it in front of you.”
“Haven’t you learned by now, Jules? I’m smarter than you, faster than you and stronger than you. If you take one step toward your cell phone, which I assume is in the bathroom, I’ll have you flat on your face before you can clear the bedroom.”
I can only stare at him, eyes wide. Think, Julia, think! I have to stall. It’s the only option I have.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “I won’t get dressed then, but you don’t have to be threatening about it, Jeremy. Just tell me what it is you want to talk about.”
“I want to talk about what you’ve been up to since I beat your ass in the competition,” he says, the smile gone from his face. “Or didn’t you think I’d find out?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been here, home. Crying my eyes out because I love you and you…”
“Oh, please,” he cuts me off. “You must think I’m as stupid as you are, Jules.”
I shake my head and furrow my brows, feigning confusion.
“What? Stupid? Jeremy, that’s the last thing I’d call you. You’re one of the shrewdest people I’ve ever met. When I’ve finally gotten over you, I’ll probably even respect the way you… maneuvered all of this into place. I can’t deny it was brilliant.”
I can’t tell if the ego stroking is working or not, so I continue cautiously, not wanting to lay it on too thick.
“But I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about that. What is it that you think I’ve been doing that has you so upset? Whatever it is, I’ll stop it,” I offer up. I’m going to say anything I have to in order to get him out of my bedroom.
“You’ve been a very busy little girl, haven’t you, Jules?”
I’m not quite sure how to respond, so I don’t.
“You went to the police, didn’t you?” he accuses.
Oh, so that’s what this is about.
“Yes, Jeremy, I did. And I was informed that you would press charges if I didn’t leave you alone. So I have.”
He’s smiling again, wagging his index finger at me. He has also taken a single step to his left, toward the end of the bed. I pretend not to notice.
“Now, Jules, if that were true, I wouldn’t be here right now. You have had every opportunity to just take your lumps and get on with it. But now I understand you’ve been contacting orchestras, and newspapers, and schools.”
I watch helplessly as he takes another step.
“What on earth are you talking about?” I ask, trying to sound confused.
“What did you tell them, Julia?” he asks, completing his route to the foot of the bed.
“Nothing… I didn’t say anything to anyone, Jeremy. You beat me fair and square. I don’t want to look like a sore loser,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster.
He’s moving forward along the foot of the bed now, getting closer to my side with every tiny inch.
“Don’t you lie to me, Jules,” he says, his tone now quiet and menacing.
I shake my head and cling to the lie, hoping to eventually convince him it is true.
“I swear, I didn’t say anything to anyone…”
Two steps this time. He’s about to make it to my side of the bed and that puts him within three feet of me. I take a step back toward the closet. If I could just get to the bathroom and lock the door… But there’s no way. He’s fast, and no telling what he’ll do to me if I run. I keep seeing Laurie Daughtry’s face, hearing her soft, flat voice.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” he says louder this time. It’s clear he isn’t playing with me. He aims to get an answer. “You’ve started a smear campaign against me, haven’t you? You’ve been doing your damnedest to make sure no one will hire me.”
“I didn’t. I swear, Jeremy, it wasn’t me,” I insist, retreating further.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” he threatens.
“That’s right,” Matthew says from the doorway. “You’re not going to ask her again.”
My heart practically leaps from my throat. Thank God, he’s here now.
Jeremy whips around toward him.
“Well, look who’s home,” he says.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size for a change, Jeremy?” Matthew suggests, stepping further into the room.
Jeremy covers the final few feet between us, and stands next to me.
“What’s the matter, Matthew? Afraid I’m gonna hurt your fragile little flower?”
“Get away from her,” Matthew says in the most threatening tone I’ve ever heard him use in my life. It sounds as if it’s coming from a deep, dark place within him, and I’m almost more frightened by him than Jeremy for a second.
Jeremy is unfazed. He doesn’t budge.
“Now what would the fun in that be?” he asks with a smile.
“She didn’t get in touch with all those orchestras,” Matthew says. “I did.”
Now Jeremy looks over at me at me, his expression softening.
“No, you didn’t, did you?” he says, running the back of his hand along the curve of my face. It is an intimacy I used to relish. Now, it only sickens me.
I look him in the eye and shake my head.
“No, Jeremy, I didn’t,” I whisper.
He drops his hand from me and turns around so that he’s standing squarely between Matthew and me. He’s so much taller than I am, that I can’t actually see past him unless I lean to the side.
“You know what, Matthew? I believe Jules. I think she’s too afraid and too pathetically in love with me to ever say a word against me.”
“Good,” Matthew spits. “Then leave her alone and get out.”
Jeremy throws another glance back at me and I see the smile is back. Not the scary one, but the faux-friendly one that’s all white teeth and crinkly eyes.
“Oh, I will in just a second. There’s just something I want to make… painfully… clear. Someone’s been snooping around, asking questions, making accusations. Someone’s been doing their best to sabotage my career. It’s going to stop right now.”
“Get out, Jeremy,” Matthew repeats louder this time.
Jeremy continues as if he hasn’t heard him.
“And I mean right now, Matty Boy. Or sweet, innocent little Julia might find herself in an awkward position. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to Julia, would you?”