Beholden

by Madison Michael

  That awful lawyer, Sandra, had called again several times, as recently as yesterday. She needed more documents, correspondence this time - tons of it. Sloane had asked what was going on, explained that she really wanted to understand. When she heard the answer, she was sorry she had asked.

  “It’s like this Sloane. You know that your father bribed the Chinese to do business in China. That was pretty close to treason, considering the secrets he offered, but that is on him. No one is associating you with that at all.” She almost sounded disappointed, while Sloane was breathing a sigh of relief. “But he also stole those secrets from Blocker Manufacturing before he sold them to the Chinese. It has come to light that it was you who won the Blocker account for Huyler Industries, that you had a personal relationship with Les Blocker.”

  “We went to grad school together. Les and I are friends,” Sloane answered defensively.

  “Be that as it may, you brought in the account and you need to consider how that appears. Your relationship with Wyatt Howe IV is what opened the door for your father to do business with his father. That business arrangement gave your father the avenue to launder the income he got from selling secrets of a company you brought into the fold.”

  “So what are you saying, Sandy?” Sloane was furious at the veiled accusations she was hearing and frightened by how guilty they made her sound. “You sound like you think I am guilty. I don’t want to be represented by a lawyer who doesn’t believe in my innocence. Why are you even on this case anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think, Sloane. I will do my very best for you, I assure you. The firm put me on this case the second my father retired because I am the best person for the job. I have the right legal background. So just do what I ask, please.

  “Here is your situation,” she continued. “To an outsider, it looks like you set the whole deal up, Sloane, and that your father just carried it out. The feds are thinking that perhaps he was the dupe here, not you. That is why we need the correspondence between you and Blocker for starters, and your private emails with Wyatt Howe as well. That is what I will need to mount your defense.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Sloane muttered into the phone before Sandra extracted her promise to provide the documents to the law firm as soon as possible. Sloane agreed but then slammed the phone with a satisfying crash.

  Of course, she knew she was innocent. However, she also knew that at times, innocence and conviction had nothing to do with each other. There were cable and Netflix shows and podcasts galore about the guilty going free or the innocent being jailed. She was rightfully nervous. In her limited experience, the U.S. Justice Department did not accuse unless they thought they could convict.

  She lost sleep night after night, fearing a knock on the door followed by an ugly arrest. Every time she dozed off, she would imagine herself dragged away in handcuffs, waking with a jolt, bathed in sweat, unable to fall back asleep.

  Today, rather than brooding about it any longer, Sloane ignored Randall’s messages and remaining flowers and pulled herself together. She dressed with care, put on a bit of makeup to cover her dark circles and headed north to visit her mother for their usual Saturday ritual. She refused to think about jail one more minute.

  The drive was a delight, helping Sloane to clear her sleep deprived brain. The traffic was surprisingly light for Chicago, home of gridlock, and Sloane made excellent time getting from her downtown neighborhood to her family’s suburban home. Pulling up in front of the manicured green lawn, Sloane had a moment of nostalgia. The “sold” sign in the middle of the grass hurt each time she saw it, but she had a cheerful smile plastered in place by the time she pulled open the side door.

  “Mom, where are you?”

  “Upstairs, honey. Grab a coffee for me please and come on up.”

  Dropping her purse on the counter, Sloane pulled two porcelain mugs from the cabinet, splashed some organic milk she found on the refrigerator shelf into one and added the fresh brewed coffee for her mother. The other, she left milk-free, for herself. Juggling the two cups carefully, she made her way through the hallway, where her steps echoed in the empty space, then up the grand staircase to her parent’s large bedroom.

  Chaos reigned in the massive room. There were boxes and clothes strewn everywhere - on the floor, on the bed, on every surface. Sloane surveyed the entire space, looking for a safe place to rest the hot liquid before setting the mugs down on a window ledge.

  “What on earth happened here?” Sloane asked, placing a quick kiss on her mother’s soft cheek. “It looks like a tornado came through.”

  “Tornado Marianne,” her mother responded proudly. “The realtors promised there would be no people coming through for inspections or anything else today so I thought I would take advantage of the time to pack up as much as I could of my winter things. I won’t need any of them again before the move, so it seemed like a good idea to me.”

  Looking around the room, seeing it through Sloane’s eyes, she laughed. “Believe it or not, there is a method to this madness. Want to help?”

  Marianne instructed Sloane on what items went in which boxes and soon the two women were working side by side like a well-oiled machine. As they worked, Marianne filled Sloane in on the status of the house sale. Initially, three families had come to see the house at least twice. When one couple came back a third time, she realized she’d better start packing. They seemed like a lovely couple who would raise teenage sons in the house.

  “I feel good knowing they are a family. This is a house meant for a family. And boys too. Your boyfriends always loved playing football in our yard, or sailing from our beach. It will be nice to think of someone loving the place like that.” Sloane wrapped her arms around her mother who had reached for a tissue to wipe a tear or two. “I will miss this place.”

  “Me too, Mom. Me too.”

  Marianne blew her nose and in her no-nonsense manner ordered Sloane back to work. Within an hour the room was cleared, the boxes closed and labeled and they were planning lunch. “In or out?” Marianne asked. “You look so lovely today, although a bit tired.” Sloane offered no explanation so Marianne continued. ”Perhaps we should go into town and have a bite. We could go to ‘Frank and Betsy’s’ and share a cookie or two.”

  “Mmm, I love the cookies there. OK, let’s go out. I can drive.”

  Sloane roamed about her old room, now empty of all but her a few pieces of old furniture. She ran her fingers lovingly over the surfaces, feeling every dent with nostalgia and waited for her mother to put on makeup and run a comb through her hair. Marianne emerged from her room ten minutes later looking like a runway model. Despite a few laugh lines, it was obvious where Sloane got her beauty. Tall and dark, like Sloane, her mother had the same piercing blue eyes and lean figure. Sloane had youth on her side, higher cheekbones and a wider, full mouth that made her look exotic where Marianne looked softer. Still, they made a beautiful mother-daughter pair.

  Driving the ten minutes to the restaurant, Sloane gave her mom an update on the gala. Sloane focused on the results of the event, rehashing the updates from the meeting earlier that week and easily sidestepping her mother’s questions about Randall and her early exit.

  “It really was a lovely event. You should be very proud on what you accomplished. Of course, you looked beautiful. I was proud watching you with your friends.”

  “Thanks, Mom. We raised a lot of money. Every aspect went well, ticket sales, donations, the auction. I could not have been happier. Well…except if I had been chairman.”

  “Honey, you know that you did a lot of the work that made that event a success. You don’t need your name at the top of a program to know in your heart that you made a real difference to those kids and to the hospital.”

  “Thanks. I needed that.”

  Betsy greeted them warmly, as the regulars they were, and seated them in a booth near the front where the natural sunlight warmed their seats. Both women ordered salads and ice tea and sat back to enjoy t
heir time together. Before her mother could grill her about her love life, the women were interrupted by the sound of Sloane’s cell phone ringing.

  “Go ahead, dear, you can take it.”

  “I am sure it’s noth…oh, it’s Missy. Do you mind, Mom?”

  Sloane was already answering as her mother gestured to take the call.

  “Sloane, it’s Missy. Great party last month, I should have called sooner to congratulate you. You should be so proud. I was sorry we didn’t get to sit together, but Stephen had to fill his table.”

  “Thanks, Missy. It was so wonderful to see everyone. And I am grateful that Stephen bought a table. Your husband is a generous man. You looked beautiful.”

  “Yes, for a woman who is still losing the last of that stubborn baby weight from her last pregnancy. The dress designer was a genius, wasn’t she? Anyway, do you have two minutes?”

  “Sure, I am just waiting for lunch to be served. I am with my mom. We are at Frank and Betsy’s if you want to join us?”

  “I wish I could, but with the kids…”

  “Of course, maybe next time.”

  “I don’t want to keep you so let me get right to the point. Wyatt was the winning bidder on a house in Lake Tahoe at the auction. He suggested we use it for a girls’ getaway four weeks from now. He will arrange a private jet and we will have the lodge for a full week. It’s Keeli, her friend Linda Stuart, you and me. I think you might know Linda already. Regan will come for the weekend if she can get away from the office. Please say you’ll join us. It will be fun.”

  “Oh, Miss, I wish I could. Tahoe this time of year would be peaceful and fantastic, but my mom is getting ready to move and…”

  “Go, honey,” Marianne interjected into the conversation. “They have FedEx If I need you to sign anything and the realtors are taking good care of me. You could really use a getaway.”

  She should only know. It may be my last chance before they hand down an indictment. Wow, my last chance. I better take it.

  “Ok, Missy. Count me in. Thanks for including me.”

  I wonder if it was Keeli’s idea. Wow, we really have come a long way.

  “Isn’t it Keeli’s place to invite me if Wyatt won the bid?” Sloane couldn’t resist voicing her thought. “I don’t want to crash anything.”

  “Yes, it is hers, and you are not crashing. She wanted to be sure you came along and was afraid you would say ‘no’ if she asked herself.”

  “Not a chance. This is wonderful. Thank you so much, and thank Keeli. And Wyatt too, I guess.”

  “Keeli will email you the details when she has them. See you soon. Say hi to your mother for me.”

  “Will do. Thanks again.”

  Sloane relayed the message to her mother and told her about the invitation. While she was a bit surprised that Keeli would include Wyatt’s ex-fiancé, Marianne was happy to see Sloane included in the girls trip, and said so.

  “You have been way too reclusive of late, Sloane, and I worry about you. At least you have Randall Parker getting you out and about.”

  About Randall, Mom…”

  “Sloane Huyler, do not tell me you pushed that young man away!”

  “It was justified Mom, I swear. He was manhandling another woman.”

  “Was he drunk?”

  “Yes, of course. Isn’t he always? It doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

  “Sloane, you need to learn tolerance. Randall does not have a drinking problem. He had a father who abandoned him and a mother who died. He is still struggling to figure out where he belongs. He has never been drunk in our home. He gets up and goes to work without any problem and trust me, young woman, no one who drinks to excess has a body like he does.”

  “Mom,” Sloane groaned in embarrassment.

  “I may be older, but I am not dead, Sloane. I know a good-looking man when I see one. I see the way he looks at you too, honey. He kept his distance when you were engaged to Wyatt, but he has never stopped watching your every move. Not since you two were children. I think you might want to give him another chance.”

  “I can’t, Mom. It was so humiliating to have him mauling someone when I was right there. Besides, Mom, he did it in front of everyone I know. They all saw that he wanted her and not me. It was mortifying.”

  And there is more, Mom, that I can never tell you. He was lying to me. For all I know, he may be helping the Feds convict me of a crime I did not commit.

  Sloane bit her tongue while her mother continued.

  “Now you are just overreacting, Sloane, like you always do. I am sure no one noticed except you, Randall, and the poor woman he was fondling, of course. If she can forgive him, and he apologizes, you can forgive him too.”

  “But Mom…”

  “Do not ‘but Mom’ me, Sloane Huyler. Randall is a good man and he has been by your side during a tough time. Don’t underestimate the strength of character it takes to march you up to Chicago’s snobbiest people. He shied away from no one at the fundraiser. He made you the belle of the ball, my dear. He gave you back your cache.”

  “Yes but…”

  “No buts. This man cares for you Sloane. He shows it openly, in the way he looks at you, the way he speaks to you, and the way he speaks for you, too. Not that you can’t speak for yourself. Believe me, I understand that, but you are too much like your father, Sloane. You are quick to judge and slow to forgive. I love you, but you might want to think about that.”

  “You are too hard on Dad. Don’t you mind that he is sitting in a jail across the country serving time for a crime he did not commit? I am proud to be too much like my father,” Sloane was defiant.

  “Sloane, I love you, but it is time for you to take off those blinders you wear to justify your spiteful, uppity behavior.” Sloane inhaled as if she had been physically punched in the stomach. “Yes, uppity and spiteful. I am sorry, but you need someone to talk some sense into you. Your father IS guilty Sloane. He did bribe the Chinese. He did steal secrets from Les Blocker’s company and sell them to the Chinese. And he did almost take down the Howe family by laundering the money he received through LHRE. And he was willing to marry you off so he could blackmail your new family into the scheme, my dear. So if I were you I would stop defending him.”

  Sloane sat like she had been slapped, too hurt and surprised even to cry. “But, Mom, you have to be wrong.”

  “I am not wrong, darling. He confessed everything to me. He loved to confess. He was like a spoiled child. He would make a misstep, break a vase, have an affair. Then he would confess and say ‘I am sorry’, and that was supposed to make it alright again.”

  “He had an affair?” Sloane thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, when her mother responded. “Several.”

  “Oh, Mom, how awful for you.”

  “And for you too dear. When I talk about having a good man, believe me I understand the difference between one who looks good and one who is good. I stood by your father because I loved him and because I cared about appearances. But that didn’t make him a good man. And I watched, heartbroken, when he would be there for you, loving and kind, then disappear and ignore you for days. I know he hurt us both, but you always forgave him in a way you never forgive others.”

  Sloane was struggling to process all this information about the man she adored, but she knew from watching her mother’s expressions that everything she was telling her was the truth

  “I don’t know what to say,” Sloane finally admitted, crestfallen, “except that It still hurts to hear you say this about Dad, and to have you call me spiteful and uppity.”

  “Well, Sloane, I love you, but it is the truth.”

  “Mom, you always say “I love you” just before you criticize me. ‘Sloane, I love you but…’” Sloane mimicked her mother. “I have been hearing that my whole life.”

  “I do love you, Sloane, more than anything. And dear, I am not criticizing you, ever. I am criticizing your behavior. Never forget that. Oh, and remember that when you have
children of your own. Speaking of which…”

  “Mom, stop pressuring me. Really.”

  “Has Randall apologized?”

  “Oh yeah. He sent flowers, dozens of flowers, hundreds of flowers. And he called and left hundreds of messages.”

  “Forgive him, then go away with the girls, relax and rejuvenate, and come back to a fresh start.”

  After the painful revelations today and the horrible accusations yesterday, a fresh start was exactly what Sloane needed. She needed time to process everything and to decide if she could forgive Randall. She didn’t think she could stand any more news.

  She still didn’t know the truth about Randall and his role in the legal proceedings either.

  The server put two large salads in front the women, allowing the conversation to halt for a few blissful minutes. Marianne began eating with gusto, but Sloane had completely lost her appetite.

  Yeah, keep eating, Mom. You can’t tell me horror stories and scold me if your mouth is full. And I hate when you scold me, especially when you are right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Lake Tahoe was more beautiful than Sloane remembered. The flight had been so simple. Keeli handled everything and Sloane had merely waited for the Lincoln Town Car to show up at her door and whisk her away. Because they had a private jet, she even managed to avoid O’Hare Airport with their crowds, traffic and long security lines. It was heavenly and Sloane could not prevent herself from thinking for a moment that all this might have been hers.

  She shook off wallowing in jealousy and got back to laughing with her traveling companions over who had the most luggage. Surely, Keeli was carrying the most baggage, but she had brought sketchpads, precious stones, metals, and soldering equipment, which technically had to be excluded for comparison purposes.

  Once Keeli’s paraphernalia was eliminated, she turned out to be a lightweight with only one 24-inch bag of clothes for the entire week. “There is a washer in the place, after all,” she had explained.

  Missy was traveling with a large and a medium suitcase as well as an oversized tote that she could hardly lift onto her shoulder. “Books” she had explained, sending the other women into whoops of laughter.