Vixen Investigations: The Mayoral Affairs

by Ashley Papa

  Two days until the big interview. I had my questions ready and had rehearsed several times with Taylor. She was thrilled when I allowed her to select my wardrobe for the interview, under one guideline: the attire must consist of tight black pants, a tight blazer, and heels. I decided I’d wear my hair in a bun in an effort to mask my appearance a little since the interview was being videotaped. I also found a trendy pair of wide-framed glasses in my night table that I thought would complete the ensemble.

  I figured tonight was my last night to “live it up” before the interview and I hadn’t had a real night out in a long time. Adam’s band was having its first city performance at Terminal 5, so I agreed to go and watch. Theresa, April, and Taylor also agreed to come to show their support. I wanted to invite Liam, but decided to just wait until our “talk.”

  The four of us were getting ready at Taylor’s place. I glammed myself up in a black, low-cut, silk romper, nude pumps, gold bangles, and large hoop earrings.

  “When does he have time to even rehearse? The way you work him, I’m surprised he even sleeps,” Theresa commented on Adam.

  We were both doing our makeup in Taylor’s half-bathroom.

  “What do you mean? He works hard by choice. He loves what he does,” I defended, not knowing what Theresa was getting at.

  “I mean he’s in his early twenties. It’s supposed to be the best years of his life…doing drugs and fucking girls. He’s like a workhorse.”

  I put down my NARS blush and turned to her. She was still focused on teasing her hair.

  “Adam’s not that type of guy. He’s the best assistant I could ask for. Plus, who else can I turn to on a whim?”

  I never suspected that Adam felt overworked. Sure, he would often have to drop everything to come with me on a stakeout or fly to Dallas or wherever, but I took care of him. He never had to worry about finances like other guys his age.

  “Well…what about me?” she coyly suggested. “This acting thing is for the fucking birds. Hollywood is filled with fake bastards who don’t understand the concept of a clock. I haven’t made one friend there,” Theresa confessed.

  And here she was making it look like a glamorous life on her Instagram and Facebook.

  “Really? You, having trouble making friends in Hollywood?” Theresa nudged me with her hip, knowing I was sarcastically stating the obvious.

  She had to have been the most conservative female in Los Angeles. I mean, her dad worked for Reagan and she was head of the College Republicans club at Yale. I now knew where her observations were coming from: she wanted a greater role in my business.

  “I’d be open to that,” I said, resuming my position in the mirror.

  I brushed on the blush and applied my Vixen Red lipstick.

  “There’s just one thing,” I started. She looked over at me. “I get to have the ‘Theresa Swear Jar.’ ”

  We both laughed.

  “Fuck you,” she replied.

  Four hours of blasting music and I was pretty sure I had temporarily lost my hearing. It was 2 a.m. and I couldn’t get the ringing in my head to stop. It was worth it, though. Adam’s band was awesome and his solo drum riffs were out of this world. I never knew he had such talent. As I watched him perform on that stage and saw all the cute girls screaming for him, I felt so proud, just as a big sister would. Then, I thought about what Theresa told me as I tried to fall asleep. He did all he was asked and expected to do for Vixen Investigations and at the same time, managed to be an incredible drummer.

  The countdown was officially on. Twenty-four hours away and sleep was off the table. All I wanted to do was run. Adrenaline surged nonstop as I anticipated what would go down tomorrow. I arranged for a special dinner with Adam later today as a way to say “thank you for your hard work.” I thought it would be nice for us to go out and enjoy a nice early dinner to relax and discuss any last-minute concerns he had. Adam liked Cuban food, so I took us to Son Cubano, just a few neighborhoods north of us in New Jersey. I ordered us a pitcher of sangria and an order of their out-of-this-world sweet plantains, to start.

  “So, you ready for tomorrow?” Adam asked while taking a bite of his food.

  I confidently replied with an, “Of course.” It would be the biggest exposure for both of us and it was good he’d see all his hard work pay off.

  “What about you? Ready to be my transcriber and protector should things get physical?” I joked.

  “I’m used to it by now, Paige,” he replied.

  We talked a bit more about work, then about his band and the dreams he had for it. I was his boss, but I was also his friend and I wanted him to know that. Right before the check came, I surprised Adam with two tickets to the Jay Z concert at Barclays Center. It was the one artist he always wanted to see. When I found out he was performing in two weeks, I hit up one of my security contacts who owns a suite there. I made sure Adam would get the VIP treatment he deserved, and he couldn’t have been more thankful.

  JULY 9th

  “Thanks for everything and your help with this. What happens next will be one for the Vixen Investigations’ books,” I said to Adam.

  I could tell he was nervous as we sat in the Jeep waiting to go into City Hall. He took a long breath, but didn’t say anything.

  It was a cooler, crisp day for early July. The city seemed a little too quiet, I noticed as we walked shoulder to shoulder into the building. The guard let us through after checking our bags and we took a seat in the sterile waiting room. Adam couldn’t seem to stop shaking his foot. The cameraman was allegedly already here and had set up in Walter’s office. I continued to go over my notes and the questions I had scribbled on my reporter’s notepad. Adam’s ceaseless foot shaking was really starting to irk me. I looked over at him as if to say, “Knock it off.” I was feeling extra irritable.

  Where is Taylor? I told her to meet me at 9:40 a.m.

  I caught Adam looking intensely at my face, then down at my feet. I was the one who was now fiercely and unknowingly shaking their foot. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my thoughts. I could hear the clacking of high heels getting closer. I thought it was an illusion, at first.

  “Hey, guys!” Taylor bubbly announced her arrival.

  “You’re five minutes late!” I nagged and stood to give her a strong hug.

  Even though I had been in the business of nabbing cheaters for several years, I still got nervous and anxious before a bust. The wall clock ticked closer and closer to 10 a.m. The more it neared the hour, the louder I could hear the ticking.

  “Doesn’t look like we’re going to start on time. Maybe you should e-mail Jimmy,” Taylor suggested.

  She, too, had noticed we were seconds away from our scheduled interview time, and I still needed to set myself up. I wondered how the cameraman was allowed in so early.

  “I don’t care if they start the damn interview at eleven as long as they give me my full hour,” I replied. “I’ll give them five more minutes and then I’ll just bust through the door,” I joked.

  But I wouldn’t have to. The portly secretary emerged right on time.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair up and those glasses,” she observed and led us down the hall.

  Good. That’s the whole point.

  Straight ahead, I could see a small video camera on a tripod with a spotlight illuminating Walter’s desk. It looked like the camera would shoot right over the back of my left shoulder, which was perfect as it completely hid my face. My heart thumped harder and faster.

  Walter was sitting down, but stood in excitement when I entered the room. He didn’t seem at all keen on Taylor and Adam being in my presence. The way he locked eyes with me, and just me, was all too familiar.

  “There she is! The woman of the hour,” he boasted, coming from behind his desk to give me a hug.

  The cameraman, who looked nonthreatening and l
ike he had been in the business for decades, observed our exchange.

  “Hello, Mayor. Nice to see you again,” I replied with a kiss on the cheek in return. “Feels like I’ve been waiting forever to get this done…”

  Walter seemed too at ease; as if he took a relaxant or he just trusted that the interview would be a cakewalk for him. He was wrong if that’s where his head was. I took a seat in the chair placed in front of his desk. There were three seats in the back behind the cameraman. However, Jimmy and Leon already occupied two of them.

  “I think we need one more seat,” I said to Leon.

  Adam and Taylor stood in the doorway as if already knowing that one of them would have to leave.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Taylor can’t stay,” Leon composedly replied.

  “Wait,” I blurted while feeling oncoming rage. “We agreed that Adam and Taylor would stay for this weeks ago.”

  “We decided it would be best if she didn’t stay,” Leon reiterated.

  He gave me a sly smile. I just wanted to knock his over bleached teeth out. However, I felt I had two options yet again: argue and have them nix the interview altogether, or oblige for the sake of the case.

  I turned to Taylor and her somber face and mouthed, “Sorry.” The secretary escorted her back out to the waiting area while Adam took a seat. His mission was to take notes and pretty much just watch my back.

  I could now feel the sweat building on the bridge of my nose and under my lips from the combination of heat from the spotlight and the anxiousness to get started. Turning my attention back to Walter, who was leaning over his desk with his hands in a lazy prayer pose, I was ready to begin. He looked like he wanted to tell me something very important. I brought my face closer to his to let him whisper in my ear.

  “You look so sexy,” he commented.

  I looked at him in the eye and half-smiled. I couldn’t wait to be done with this act.

  “Fire when ready,” he ordered, louder this time.

  I indicated “one minute” to the cameraman and pretended to fumble around in my oversized tote bag. I hit the record button on my backup audio recorder hidden inside. Then, I took the main tape recorder and placed it on the desk in front of him. I knew these guys could easily snatch and destroy whatever I got on tape with him. Having a backup device was essential. I sat straight back in the uncomfortable wooden chair, took a few breaths, and signaled to start rolling tape.

  I began with several softball questions to really get Walter comfortable and puff up his ego a bit more. He knew how to work the camera. Every so often he’d look at the lens to make sure it was capturing the emotions displayed on his perfectly powdered face. Our mini audience in the back listened as he dished about his upbringing in Queens, being an extreme introvert in grammar school due to his lisp, and getting teased about it. Like me, he was obsessed with the news as a child and enjoyed watching the nightly news with his parents on Friday nights instead of going out with friends. Politics and current events were typically the topic of discussion at dinners every night, he said. His dad worked for the Army doing financial tasks and his mom was a history teacher. I saw a change in his tone when he got more into his parents. It was somber, yet a little too much, like he was putting on an act. I felt he was just bullshitting us all.

  10:10 a.m.

  Walter still looked cool and collected. I shifted slightly in the chair, trying to find any comfortable position. It was hopeless. It was like they purposely kept these hard wooden chairs like this to prevent people from overstaying their welcome.

  “What propelled you into actually studying public policy in high school and college?” I asked next.

  “Vindication…” he began. “I wanted to get back at all those people who made fun of me, belittled me, and silenced me for all those years,” he confessed.

  His statement sounded more devilish than that of pride. In other words, his desire to seek office came from a place of hate and revenge. I looked back over my shoulder briefly. The cameraman was standing with his hands in his pockets and looking rather bored.

  I got Walter to open up even more. It was like he had no control over what was coming out of his mouth. He just kept going on with the timeline of his life. He regaled me in how he had his eyes set on running New York City when he entered Columbia University. He was a different person at Columbia than he was in his youth. In college, he became popular and liked, and that eventually put him in prime position to represent all students at the university by making him class president.

  “Did you govern Columbia like you do New York City…like in that ‘Robin Hood meets Pablo Escabaresque’ way?” I sarcastically, yet seriously, wanted to know.

  Now that Walter got the sense that the interview was going just as he wanted, I felt it was time to throw him a few hardballs. He shifted for the first time in his chair as if not expecting that kind of question.

  “Ha, sure. Minus the cocaine of course,” he replied with a grin and leaned back in his chair. “Seriously, Miss Turner, I have always been for the struggling civilians. Some have it so easy and some have it so much harder,” he said, bringing his tone back down.

  I heard some shuffling around and some light talking behind me. I turned my head sharply to give whoever was chatting a look to keep it down. It was Leon and Jimmy. They weren’t even paying attention to the interview or me. Adam was looking down at his pad of paper and vigorously took notes; although, I don’t know what he could’ve been writing so much about.

  “But Mayor, with all due respect, your way of running the city and being a hero to the lower class seems contradictory to the lavish and luxurious lifestyle you live. Wouldn’t you agree?” I let the question slip as a way to test the waters to see how Walter would respond.

  While fidgeting with his pen, Walter continued to reiterate that he works hard for the people who need him the most. Knowing what I knew about him, his family life, his affair and alleged second family that he was paying his staff to keep their mouths shut about, it made hearing him boast about himself rather enraging.

  Walter took a big sip of water from a Poland Spring bottle he pulled from his desk drawer.

  10:20 a.m.

  “Let’s talk a little more about your family life, Victoria and Piper…” I proceeded to lead.

  Mayor Wilcox relaxed his face and shoulders now that we were moving off politics. His recount of his marriage was on par with Victoria’s. However, I had no idea about the story of their daughter. Piper was a “blessing” as Victoria was told she would never be able to have children when she and Walter started trying. That put a strain on the marriage, until the day Victoria actually did get pregnant. In speaking of Piper, I noticed Walter changing his tone from cocky and authoritative to sensitive and humble. He came across as genuinely sincere speaking about how he would take Piper to skating practices and soccer games on the weekends.

  “And, you didn’t want a second child? Perhaps, try for a son?” I sneakily asked.

  “No, no…it would’ve been too much for Victoria. I’m happy as a clam with Pipes. She is quite a handful anyways!”

  “Yes, Piper is quite the outgoing one. I follow her on Instagram,” I said with a smile.

  To hear him talking about his daughter the way he did, the viewer would think Piper was the apple of his eye, or “daddy’s little girl.” The reality was, she hated him. I wonder if he even picked up on that.

  I took a quick glance at the clock to gauge my time and noticed that Leon had stepped out.

  10:30 a.m.

  “I would now like to delve a little deeper into your lifestyle, social circle…all the fluffy stuff as we discussed,” I began.

  Walter sat up straight again and folded his hands in front of him on the desk. He glared at me as if to remind me of what we discussed when it came to this part of the interview. I returned a reassuring smile that must have made him feel li
ke he was in complete control. Again, he changed positions. His constant movements were beginning to make me uneasy.

  He rubbed his hands together as if warming them and leaned back in his chair. He then placed his hands behind his head as if lounging back.

  The camera kept rolling and was streaming back to the control room at Channel 6 News. Connie and Juliet also had access to watch the feed from their computers. They were probably on the edge of their seat, hoping and praying for something big.

  I reached into my tote and pulled out the first file of “innocent”-looking pictures I had taken of the home and spread them on his desk like a tarot card reader. One was a shot of the living room, one of the office, and another of the photos on the wall. He looked down at them with his eyes only, never leaving his reclined pose.

  “I would love for you to explain your interior choosing for the living room and the office. I feel like one screams Victoria and the office screams, you.”

  In a calm manner, Walter went on to describe Victoria’s taste in interior.

  “Sometimes you just got to let the woman have her way to distract them and keep ’em busy,” he cockily replied. “It lets us men focus on our own thing.”

  10:35 a.m.

  I could tell Walter was now starting to get antsy the way he kept touching his ear, then his temple, then his chin and lips.

  Never trust a man who touches his mouth when talking to you.

  I pulled out the picture of the family, specifically the one with Lucy in the photo. He didn’t seem to flinch.

  “Can you tell me about this picture?” I pushed.

  He picked it up and brought it closer to his eyes. Then, he let out a deep sigh.

  “I remember this day. This was when we took Piper and our former babysitter sailing in Martha’s Vineyard.”