1 3 7 – ZOË

by C. De Melo

  Brady pulled out his own tablet and began transferring the information. “This does not look good for your brother.”

  “Tell me about it,” Lance agreed.

  “We don’t have enough evidence to take Michael into custody, but we may have enough to finally perform a full investigation.”

  “The question that keeps going through my mind is: why would he keep this stuff? My brother isn’t stupid.”

  Brady shrugged. “In my experience there are two kinds of criminals; one feels pleasure in the crimes he has committed, and the other feels guilt. One keeps damning evidence as a trophy; the other subconsciously wants to get caught and be punished. To understand why your brother has kept those lab reports you must first discover what kind of man he is.”

  There was a pause as Lance pondered on the words. He eyed Brady steadily. “I don’t want you to go public with this.”

  “Naturally, the investigation will be a covert operation, but as soon as solid proof is discovered it’s out of my hands,” Brady explained. “If Michael is guilty, he’ll be treated exactly like any other criminal; and that means media coverage.”

  “I understand that, but do you realize that the safety of an innocent person is at stake?”

  The drinks arrived and Brady waited for the cocktail waitress to leave before speaking. “You’re referring to your sister-in-law.”

  “I am, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to Zoë.”

  Brady nodded and took a long sip of scotch. “We can take her into protective custody.”

  Lance shook his head. “No, that’s not good enough. There has to be another option.”

  “The only other option is to give you some notice before we make the bust.”

  “How much of a notice are we talking about? A few days, a week?”

  “Twenty-four hours…tops.”

  Lance gave Brady a hard stare. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m sorry, Adams. That’s the best I can do.”

  Lance placed his head in his hands and let out a long breath. After a moment, he looked at Brady. “I want your word that you’ll keep me up to date on everything. No nasty surprises.”

  Brady took a large swallow of scotch and nodded.

  Lance stood up and took out his wallet. “If we’re done here, I’d like to get going.”

  Brady motioned for him to put his credit card away. “It’s on me. I’ll call you.”

  Lance walked out of the bar and into the night. A young prostitute wearing a short silver dress accosted him at the corner. Lance shook his head and headed for his car.

  “Come on, baby,” she called out to him before running her tongue along her glossy red lips. “Are you sure I can’t make you change your mind?”

  Lance ignored her and drove off.

  ***

  I was still at the gallery when Lance called me at ten o’ clock from inside his car. He looked surprised when I picked up.

  “Hello, Lance.”

  “Isn’t it late for you to be at the gallery?” he asked, noticing the sculpture over my shoulder.

  “Nancy went into labor last night. I was called in last minute. I had to finish up our quarterly report and now I’m doing some work in advance for an upcoming exhibit. What are you up to?”

  “I showed my contact the information. It doesn’t look good. They may have to perform an investigation on Michael- undercover, of course. There’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He can only give me a twenty-four hour notice before he makes a bust.”

  I could tell he was stopped at a traffic light because of the red glow across his face. “That’s not a lot of time, is it?”

  “No, but it’s enough time to get you the hell out of there before the shit hits the fan,” he replied. “It may not be a bad idea for you to pack a bag with your passport, credit cards and some clothes. Keep it ready just in case.”

  Neither of us spoke for several seconds. The red light turned to green.

  “Hey, I’m sorry to upset you with all of this,” he said. “Maybe I should have waited until the morning to call you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m already upset about many other things,” I replied candidly.

  “Listen, Zoë, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. You can trust me.”

  “I know, and I do. It’s not that…”

  His brow creased with concern. “Did something happen with Michael? He didn’t mention anything about the trunk, did he?” When I didn’t respond, he frowned. “Zoë?”

  “I caught Michael having sex in the kitchen with another woman,” I blurted out.

  Lance was silent for a long moment. “Maria?”

  I let out a laugh that contained no humor whatsoever. “You knew?”

  “I suspected,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but Michael isn’t the angel you think he is…and I don’t want to see you get hurt. There are some things you should know. Can we meet? I can be there in less than five minutes. I’m only a few streets over from the gallery right now.”

  “Sure.”

  A moment later, Lance was at the front door. I let him in before locking it again. He kissed my cheek in greeting.

  “We can talk in Nancy’s office,” I said.

  He looked around as I led him into the big office located at the rear of the building. Tablets, old books and two electronic appointment screens were scattered upon the long oak desk.

  “I have some wine in the fridge from the last exhibit, and I think now is a good time to have some,” I said, indicating the small fridge in the storeroom.

  “Sounds good.”

  I pulled a bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge and a corkscrew from a drawer. “Here, you open it while I hunt for two glasses,” I said, handing him the bottle.

  Lance filled the glasses and I held mine up. “To us.”

  “To us,” he said before taking a sip.

  He looked at me expectantly and I said, “So…Maria?”

  “I noticed something during Thanksgiving dinner and then again at the Christmas party, but I didn’t know how to tell you- and frankly, I wasn’t sure you’d want to know.”

  “What exactly did you notice?”

  “It’s the way Maria looks at Michael…it’s a dead giveaway,” Lance said.

  I nodded slowly. “Are there other women besides Maria?”

  He held my gaze for a long moment. “Yes.”

  “Well, I guess I don’t feel so guilty now for snooping in that damned trunk!” Changing the subject abruptly, I said with forced cheerfulness, “Let me show you the slides for the upcoming exhibit.”

  Lance’s hand shot out to take hold of my arm. “Wait. You’re obviously hurt by this.”

  “So what? Life goes on,” I said a bit too sarcastically.

  He shook his head. “You need to deal with these issues. You can’t just bury them or pretend they don’t exist. I’m here for you, I want to help you.”

  “I was dead for almost twenty years and recently came back to life only to discover that my husband is currently having affairs with other women and possibly guilty of conspiring with terrorists. Tell me, how does one deal with these issues?”

  He set down his wine glass and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Zoë…”

  I shrugged him off. “And do you know what the worst part is?”

  He looked down and sighed before meeting my eyes. “Tell me.”

  “He’s never once fucked me like that,” I admitted bitterly. “Come to think of it, nobody has ever fucked me like that, and no one ever will because I’m an abomination.” When his eyes widened at my blunt (and vulgar) confession, I added coolly, “Sorry, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. My main concern right now is the running this gallery. After that, I’ll deal with things one day at a time.”

  Lance and I stared at one another for what seemed an eternity. “Leave him,” he said, surprising even himself for saying such a thing. “He doesn
’t deserve you.”

  “But he saved my life...”

  “Do you love him?” When I said nothing, he quickly added, “Forget it. You don’t have to answer that question…it’s none of my business.”

  He walked across the room to examine a painting and gather his thoughts. I set down my glass to run my hands through my hair.

  “No,” I said, making his head turn towards me sharply. “I care about your brother, but I’m not in love with him. I think after what I witnessed today, it’s safe to say the feeling is mutual on his end.”

  He was beside me instantly. “Leave him, Zoë.”

  “And do what? Where will I go?”

  Standing so close to Lance made me suddenly aware of my disheveled appearance. I had let my hair down the moment the gallery closed and took off my blazer to expose a snug-fitting, navy V-neck shirt. He lifted his finger to gently trace the curve of my face as he gazed deeply into my eyes. I was drawn to him like a magnet. He smiled, exposing a small dimple on the left side of his mouth. I wanted nothing more than to taste his lips.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered, just before kissing me.

  It was a long, languid kiss. Our lips were pliable as we merged and melted into each other. I had never felt so alive.

  “Oh, God, Zoë, I’ve dreamt of kissing you like this ever since I first laid eyes on you,” he confessed softly as he kissed my neck and pressed me closer to him. “I hated Michael for finding you first.”

  I pulled away to look into his eyes; blue as a summer sky. I couldn’t let myself drown in them. As much as I hated the thought of pushing him away, that’s exactly what I did. My body ached for him, but I simply couldn’t…

  Not here, not now.

  “No,” I said.

  “Why?” he demanded. “You can’t deny that you feel the same way for me as I do for you.”

  “Lance, you have a crush on me, that’s all,” I pointed out.

  His eyes turned from hurt to cold. “I had a crush on you when I was a boy, that’s true. I’m a man now. And what I feel for you is no mere crush, I assure you.”

  I looked away. “I can’t.”

  “Look at me,” he said. “Tell me why you can’t.”

  I refused to meet his eyes. “Because my life already has more stress than I can handle. I’m on overload right now.”

  “You love me,” he said.

  I continued to look away. “Stop it, Lance.”

  “Look at me,” he urged, gripping my shoulders firmly and physically angling my body so that I was forced to face him. “Look into my eyes, Zoë.”

  I met his gaze knowing that my eyes would betray me. He smiled and kissed my face before kissing my lips again. I allowed myself a moment of delirious happiness before coming to my senses again.

  “We can’t just carry on like this,” I said. “I’m just as guilty as Michael right now.”

  “No, you’re not. There are things you don’t know. Trust me.”

  The sound of keys banging against glass startled the both of us.

  “Are you expecting company?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, smoothing out my hair and clothing before stepping out into the gallery.

  It was Michael. I let him inside and locked the door behind him. I hoped my lips were not noticeably red or swollen from being kissed.

  “I came to check up on you, princess,” he said. Lance also walked out into the gallery and Michael frowned at his younger brother. “What are you doing here?”

  “I met a friend for a drink up the street and saw Zoë’s car when I drove by after leaving the bar. I decided to pop in to say hello,” Lance explained.

  “My wife’s car is parked behind the gallery,” Michael pointed out icily.

  “Well…yes…I saw it from the back street,” Lance lied.

  Michael’s jaw clenched and his mouth became hard.

  “Lance looked at the holographic slides for the upcoming exhibit,” I added, making the lie more complete.

  “Stunning pieces,” Lance said. “I’m sure you’ll have a great turnout.”

  “Hope so,” I said with a smile. “I was just finishing up here and getting ready to go home.”

  Michael continued to stare at his younger brother.

  “Well, I should get going. Goodnight Zoë, goodnight Michael,” Lance said as he walked towards the front door.

  “Goodnight,” Michael said.

  “Goodnight, Lance. Thanks for stopping by,” I said, opening the front door of the gallery.

  As soon as I locked the door behind him, Michael asked, “What was he doing here with you so late?”

  “He knocked on the door and I let him in about half hour ago. He said he saw my car from the street and wanted to see if I was okay,” I replied.

  “I don’t trust him,” Michael said.

  “He’s your brother.”

  “I don’t care…I still don’t trust him.”

  “You trusted him to watch over me in Italy,” I pointed out. “Let me turn off the computer and get my briefcase. I’ll follow you home.”

  I ran back to the office and quickly dumped the remaining wine, rinsed the glasses and put the bottle back in the fridge. Luckily, Michael was standing in the same spot when I returned.

  “Italy was an extenuating circumstance. I’m talking about his ethical practices,” he said, continuing our previous conversation.

  “Why would you say something like that, Michael?”

  “Because I know he’s involved with questionable people. Did you know that he sells information for money?”

  This news startled me and I hid my reaction by fumbling with the gallery keys. “What kind of information?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

  “Any kind. He and his friends- a crew of investigative reporters- go around looking for incriminating evidence to accuse major corporations of heinous crimes. His team has been known to blackmail said corporations.”

  My heart raced. “Oh?”

  “I caught him looking through my desk once,” Michael continued. “That was the real reason why he and I fought and stopped speaking. He was looking for ways to blackmail me, just as he blackmailed one of my colleagues.”

  I met Michael’s eyes. “He blackmailed one of your colleagues? Are you sure of this? I mean, doesn’t Lance have plenty of money from your father’s estate and from the trust fund he inherited?”

  “He does, but people are never happy with what they have, especially rich people. Don’t you know that by now? Greed has led many to their downfall and Lance is no exception. I have accepted him back into my life for your sake, because I know you’re fond of him. But I’m watching him like a hawk, and you would do well to do the same.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me,” I said defensively.

  Michael chuckled without mirth. “Oh, no? Who do you think sold the story of your mother’s death to the tabloids?”

  “No…”

  Michael nodded with a gleam in his eye. “Yes, princess. Lance did.”

  “Well, tonight’s visit had nothing to do with conspiracies,” I said shakily. I desperately wanted to end the conversation.

  “I’m sorry I had to tell you such unpleasant information about Lance,” he said gently. “I know how much you like him.”

  “Look, right now I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

  My mind raced as I started the engine of my Mercedes and pulled out onto the street. Was Lance really an informant for the CIA or was he a common blackmailer? If the latter was true, Michael had every reason to be wary. I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the headlights of my husband’s car reflected in them.

  Why had Lance divulged so much disturbing information in Italy? Was it really to warn me or was it merely to gain my trust in order to obtain more information? Was he using me? I could still taste the sweetness of his mouth and feel the warmth of his hard body against my own. The thought of our kiss made me ache and I shifted in my seat. I pulled up the drive and parked my car. Michael un
locked the door and followed me up into our bedroom. Once inside, he watched as I hung up my clothes and took off my shoes.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, coming to stand behind me as I sat at my vanity and brushed my hair.

  His hands cupped my shoulders and he bent to kiss the back of my neck. Disgusted by the memory of seeing him with Maria earlier, I flinched.

  His eyes met mine in the mirror’s reflection. “What is it, princess?” he asked.

  “I’m exhausted, Michael. I have a throbbing headache.”

  “Of course, I understand. I’m going to work in my studio for a while. Goodnight.”

  Michael left the bedroom, but I knew he wasn’t going to his office. When I got out of my car, I noticed Maria’s car was still parked outside. My husband would seek solace in the arms of his mistress tonight while I was left alone with my demons.

  ***

  Colin Brady sat in front of the metal desk of his superior; a burly man in his mid fifties. The brass name plate on the desk read: Ted Marshall.

  “The documents look authentic,” Marshall said, holding Brady’s tablet in his hands and looking at the scans Lance had shared with him earlier.

  “According to Adams they’re originals.”

  “And where did he find them?”

  “Hidden and locked inside a trunk,” Brady explained. “He still maintains his sister-in-law knows nothing.”

  Marshall looked up. “Do you believe him?”

  “I do.”

  “Have you ever met her?”

  Brady shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen her from afar. She works at the Ashford Gallery, and she’s quite a looker, I might add.”

  Marshall raised an eyebrow. “Is Adams fucking her?”

  “Don’t know. Does it matter?”

  “Just trying to figure out why he’s so bent on protecting her, that’s all.”

  “Maybe because she really is innocent.”

  Marshall nodded pensively. “I’m going to call Headquarters. I’ll be in touch.”

  Taking it as a dismissal, Brady stood. “There’s one more thing,” he said. Marshall looked up expectantly and Brady continued, “I promised Adams we’d give him the heads up before taking action against his brother. He wants to be prepared. He’s extremely concerned with his sister-in-law’s safety.”