by M. L. Ray
She’d rifled through his desk some more and found other such magazines, all of which she played an integral part in. When she stumbled across a small flyer with her picture on it, she almost fainted. The writing was in Spanish, but she was able to pick out enough to realize the paper was an advertisement for her escort services! More pictures of herself in skimpy outfits were found, and she knew she should have paid closer attention to what was going on with her career. Her agent had turned her from a model into a highly paid escort!
She’d waited for her agent, Marco Pellinni, to show up and then accused him of tricking her into modeling for a porn magazine and turning her into an escort! The other photos in the magazines had been of the same caliber, with many of them showing girls completely undressed, with only the bare essentials covered. And nowhere had she seen anything actually selling the swimsuit or other clothing items she was wearing. Instead, there had been multiple ads for call girls and mail-order brides! Even a few 1-900 numbers advertising beautiful women waiting to talk to you for only a few dollars a minute!
She’d waved the escort flyer in front of his face, and demanded to know if all of her recent high-profile dates had merely been business transactions! Marco hadn’t even had the good grace to deny her accusations or defend himself. He’d simply told her she needed to calm down. She’d been paid very well for being seen with those men, and she needed to look at the bigger picture.
Brooke had been furious to have been used in such a way, and refused to do any more photo shoots for him or the magazine. She also refused to go on any more high-profile dates. When Marco had threatened her, she’d flown home a few days earlier than planned. Memories of that visit filled her with guilt, as she remembered having been emotionally distant from everyone. Even her ailing mother!
Unfortunately, distance hadn’t stopped Marco’s attempts to get her back in the fold. He’d repeatedly called her cellphone, at all times of the day and night. When she returned to New York, she’d immediately changed her number. When he’d begun having men come to her apartment at all hours of the night, threatening her if she didn’t honor the contract, she went to the District Attorney’s office to file a complaint. Her thought had been that whatever was going on was more than likely illegal, and since her picture was all over the magazines and escort flyers, she wanted legal protection when the authorities finally acted. It had only taken her a few days after returning to New York City to reach that point. Marco was destroying her sanity, and she admitted to herself that she was actually afraid for her life!
She’d met Zachary Grayson there, and he’d simply swept her off her feet. He’d promised her the full protection of the law, and had even offered to speak with Marco directly. Almost immediately, the threatening phone calls and nightly visits had ceased. Brooke had been so relieved; she’d not even questioned what kind of legal action was being taken against Marco and his other business associates. Lack of sleep, days of fear and worry, had taken their toll on her emotionally and physically.
Zachary had told her very little after questioning her that first day, and since she’d never been involved in any sort of legal action before, she didn’t question anything he told her. The only piece of information she’d ferreted out was that Marco and her agent in California had been working together
Zachary had been her knight in shining armor. He’d been attentive, always complimenting her, and three weeks later when he’d asked her to move in with him, she had done so without a second thought. Zachary had taken over her life and she hadn’t even put up a token protest. He’d seemed so attentive and caring, keeping her from unwanted media attention, protecting her privacy and even having his own physician and trainer come to the penthouse so she didn’t have to worry about being seen in the city.
She’d been very fearful in the first few weeks after seeing those magazines, but Zachary had assured her they were only published and distributed in South America, and so she had no worries about someone in the city recognizing her. She hadn’t realized that Zachary was part of the problem, and several weeks later, she had signed her name to the bottom of a marriage license in a judge’s office.
She rubbed her temple, the ache becoming more pronounced with her tears. She hadn’t realized anything was truly wrong until a few weeks ago when Zachary had gone out of town unexpectedly. He’d never wanted her to work after they got married, telling her that he preferred that she keep a low profile until the court case against her former agents were finished up. When she’d asked about the time frame for that to occur, Zachary had been less than encouraging, saying that similar cases had taken years to come to judgment.
Brooke had been relieved and initially enjoyed the small vacation, but soon she found herself becoming bored and restless. Zachary had demanded that she speak with a counselor, who had prescribed her some anxiety pills to help her as she dealt with the aftermath of having been used so callously for profit.
As days and then weeks went by, Brooke found herself becoming more and more afraid to leave the apartment without Zachary by her side. She’d started having nightmares, for which yet more pills had been prescribed. It seemed to be a vicious cycle, and Zachary easily took over running her life.
She was still in high demand as a model, but Zachary had taken over the role of her agent as well, and she only did exclusive photo shoots now. Zachary took care of everything from the shopping, to arranging for beauticians to visit the apartment so she didn’t have to sully her feet on the streets of New York City, to managing her financial portfolio for her.
She had placed all of her furniture, unneeded belongings, and her newly purchased Mustang in storage the week she’d moved in with him, not knowing how long those living arrangements would last. By the time she’d said “I do,” she’d all but forgotten her former life, and Zachary seemed content to leave it forgotten. She’d paid the storage fees a year ahead, not wanting to mess with a monthly payment, and in her altered mental state, had all but erased her former possessions from her mind.
Slowly, he’d encouraged her to stop communicating with those back home who cared for her. You don’t want them to know what you got mixed up in, do you? What would your parents or brother say if they ever saw those photographs? It’s better to just distance yourself until everything is settled in the courts. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the evidence pictures from the media.
Brooke had let her guilt escalate until she was happy to stay in the penthouse and do nothing but watch television most of the day. Zachary had installed some exercise equipment in a spare room for her use, and even gotten her some special vitamins to help keep her in tip top shape.
Everything had seemed to be going fine, until Zachary had gone out of town unexpectedly. He hadn’t known that she was out of her special vitamins, and she’d chosen not to say anything to him because she didn’t want to inconvenience him. She’d foolishly thought they were only vitamins and once he returned to town, he could get them replaced for her.
She’d been so wrong! Over the next two days, she’d experienced stomach cramps, massive headaches, chills, and hallucinations that eventually had her attempting to reach someone outside the apartment. Her skin had felt like it was covered with insects, and she’d been unable to put a coherent thought together. She was sure she’d been poisoned by something she ate, and after suffering for more than a day, she knew she needed to find some help.
It hadn’t occurred to her until that day that there were no phones in the apartment. Zachary almost always used a cell phone, and the landline phone he used was a special coded phone he used for business matters. He’d explained to her that it had some special software installed that prevented the calls from being traced and in his line of work for the DA’s office, he often used the phone even in his downtown office.
Whenever he plugged it in at home, he always made to then unplug it and tuck it away inside his briefcase when he left for the day. Her cell phone and laptop computer were somewhere in the apartment, since she�
��d arrived with them, but she hadn’t seen them in weeks. Or was it months? She’d lost all track of time, and though she made a cursory look through the apartment, they were nowhere to be found.
Thinking to seek help from the porter at the front entrance to the apartment building, she’d found enough strength to dress herself, but when she’d tried to open the door to the penthouse, she’d found it locked. From the outside. She’d become even more frightened when she realized she was stuck in the apartment until Zachary saw fit to come home. She’d panicked, falling headlong into a panic attack of major proportions.
Zachary had come home the next day to find her sick, irrational, and irate. She’d demanded he take her to a hotel, throwing whatever was in reach at him, but her weakened state only allowed her a few moments to rage at him before her strength gave out. She’d collapsed on the floor of the apartment, her stomach heaving as chills raced up and down her spine. Things might have gone better if he’d apologized, or at least seemed somewhat upset at having trapped her inside their apartment, but that hadn’t been his reaction.
Zachary’s response had been to call a family friend who was a doctor and have her medicated. She’d overheard him telling the doctor that she had an addiction problem to prescription narcotics, and suddenly everything she’d experienced the previous forty-eight hours made sense. She’d been suffering from withdrawals! Zachary had been drugging her, and she’d been helping him!
She’d recovered with Zachary keeping a close watch on her, and she’d become much more suspicious of his behavior from there on out. She’d tried her best to present the same easy going, complacent personality she knew he’d come to expect, taking special note of everything Zachary gave her. Zachary had been none the wiser, and she had been patiently waiting for him to slip up and give her a way out.
She’d even lulled him into a false sense of security by pretending to care less about her friends and family back in Colorado. Since meeting him, Zachary had always insisted she send a basic email to let her family know she was okay to keep them from worrying.
When she’d announced she no longer felt the need to do that anymore, in hopes someone would have become alarmed and started looking for her, Zachary had told her with a smile that he would be happy to send out a basic email to let everyone know she was doing okay.
Brooke had smiled and continued pretending to be the doped up wife he took out occasionally to show off. She had been secretly planning to escape the next time he took her someplace, but since her incident with the doctor, she hadn’t left the apartment once. The toll of pretending nothing had changed was becoming harder to bear, and when she’d awakened to see the phone still plugged in, she been ecstatic.
She’d wasted no time in calling her brother’s house. She didn’t have a clue as to what she was going to say, but surely Tyler would be able to help her. Somebody needed to help her! The call had not gone as planned.
Peter had been at the house! Her heart hurt as she remembered the smiling eyes of the only boy who’d ever owned her heart. He’d been planning to marry her, until she’d been invited to California. He’d stepped aside, allowing her to pursue her dreams, and now she realized she’d thrown away her only chance for true happiness. God, I’ve been such a fool! Help me get out of this mess!
She laughed at herself when she realized the direction her thoughts had gone. It had been a long time since she’d asked God for something, or even just paused to check in with Him. And you expect Him to help you now? Good luck with that, sweetie!
She dried her tears, and noticed her hands were shaking badly once again. She’d been slowly weaning herself off the drugs, having tried to do it all at once, and suffering horrible side effects as a result. Not wanting to let Zachary know she was onto his game, she’d been slowly decreasing the dose of her special vitamins that she consumed each day.
She reached for the vitamin bottle, and carefully broke one of the tablets in half. She took one half, and then walked to the bathroom and flushed the rest of the tablet down the toilet. So much for thinking I could go without these stupid pills!
She returned to the luxuriously decorated living room and stared out of the large picture windows at the New York skyline. I wish I was still in Cathedral Hills. She wrapped her arms around herself, and then headed for the bedroom. With nothing else to do, she would watch television, and hopefully slip into a dreamless sleep where the nightmare her life had become would fade away for a few short hours. Maybe when she woke she’d try Tyler again – if Zachary hadn’t remembered the phone and come home to retrieve it.
Chapter 42
Present day…
Peter exited the New York City airport terminal, and immediately longed for the clean air of the Colorado Mountains. The New York air was heavy with the smell of exhaust, road tar from the recently repaired road in front of him, and a number of other odors he didn’t find pleasant at all.
He stepped to the small waiting platform with a taxi sign fixed above it, and then looked at the emailed information Tyler had sent him earlier. According to the marriage license that had been found online, Brooke Jameson had married Zachary Grayson four months ago. There was an address listed, but when Peter had googled it, the address came up as belonging to the New York City District Attorney’s office. A dead end!
A yellow cab approached, and stopped in front of him. He tucked his suitcase inside and then climbed in. He gave the only address he had to the driver, and then tried to come up with a plan of attack once he got there.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was already 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and he only hoped there would be someone still in the government office who might know of Zachary Grayson and where he could be found.
He paid the exorbitant taxi fare when they reached the justice building, and then entered the building and stopped to look at the directory. A security station was set up in the center of the foyer, preventing anyone from entering the rest of the building without going through a metal detector and physical pat down. Crime must be alive and well in New York!
He saw that the District Attorney’s office occupied both the seventh and the eighth floors. Well that narrows it down! Approaching the security guard station, he smiled and waited for one of the uniformed men to acknowledge his presence.
“Can I help you?” the younger of the two men asked, his name tag identifying him as Brad.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Zachary Grayson, and was wondering if one of you could direct me to his office?”
“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Grayson?”
Ah, so this is where he works! Step one accomplished. “Not really. I’m a friend of his wife’s, was in town for just a few hours, and was hoping to take them both to dinner.”
“Well, I doubt he’s still here this late in the day, but I can call up to his office and check.”
“Thanks. That would be very helpful.” Peter tucked his hand in his front pocket as he waited.
“Sorry, he’s already left for the day. Would you like me to see if he has an emergency number on file? I could give him a call on that?”
“No, I have his cell phone number. I’ll give it a call.” Peter started to move away, and then turned back on an after thought, “Do you know if they kept their apartment in the city?” He heard that most people who worked in the city kept an apartment there as well because the traffic was so bad. Hopefully that was true for the unknown Zachary Grayson. He was fishing for information, and mentally crossed his fingers that he’d catch something besides a dead end.
“Hey, Stan, did Mr. Grayson keep his dad’s penthouse apartment after he got married?”
“I believe so. Who wants to know?”
“This guy says he’s a friend of Miss Brooke’s and was in town for a few hours. He was wanting to surprise her.”
Stan nodded his head, “I’m pretty sure he still has that apartment on the Upper East Side. It’s been in the Grayson family for decades. His daddy used it when he was the DA.”
“There you go,” the uniformed officer named Brad told him with a smile. “Do you remember how to get to the apartment?”
Peter laughed, “Honestly, I’m so turned around once I get down in all these tall buildings – No. Where I come from, you can see for miles and I navigate by which mountain range is in front of me.”
Both security guards laughed, with Stan commenting, “I know how that goes. I grew up in Ohio. We didn’t have your mountains, but I never remember getting lost either.” The man pulled a sheet of paper towards him and then jotted down an address, “Just give that to the taxi driver and he’ll know how to get you there.”
“Thanks buddy. That’s really nice of you.” Peter reached out and shook both uniformed security guards’ hands. It never hurt to make friends, and since he had no idea of what he was walking into, having a friend in Zachary’s office could come in handy.
“Yeah, don’t mention it. And I truly mean that. Don’t mention it. To anyone.” Brad winked at him, as did Stan.
Peter finished shaking Brad’s hand and assured them, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul about this conversation.” He crossed his fingers of his heart and then held up a two finger salute, “Scout’s honor. You all have a nice evening now.” No need for them to know he’d never been part of a scout troop.
“You too. I hope Miss Brooke likes her surprise.”
“I’m sure she will,” he commented, as he turned and walked away. Peter exited the building, dragging his small suitcase behind him and flagged down another taxi. He handed the piece of paper to the turban-clad man, the smell of curry and some other spice making his eyes water. The sound of Indian music filled the interior of the cab, and Peter decided that New York City was just full of new experiences, many to be had inside a taxi cab.