Jackie was staring at her, capturing her disgrace and horror on her camera.
There was no sound.
“Tell me how you feel,” said Jackie.
Samantha ignored her. She wanted to throw the computer into the ocean but she had to keep watching. She bit her tongue when the woman moved down and started to suck Carl’s cock.
She did it exactly how he liked.
“This isn’t the first time,” she said.
Tears flowed down her face as she stared at her cheating husband. She remembered all the times he’d flirted with other women, but she’d never believed that he’d really follow through with any of them. He loved her.
Obviously she was wrong about that too.
She watched until they finished, the images of him going down on her burning into her mind.
Her life with him was over. She knew Cynthia would show the video on the show and that was the end of her marriage.
Part of her wanted to believe her marriage would be over in any case. He abused her and she worried about her children constantly. She just needed her share of the winnings to leave him.
Now, she felt like he’d kicked her in the stomach and left her lying on the ground. He’d laugh at her and spit in her face.
When Carl and the blonde woman left the room, Jackie shut the video off.
Samantha walked away, still crying, but Jackie left her alone to her own thoughts.
Chapter 28: Team Superior
Emma - Ten Years Earlier
Emma Lehman was born and raised in New York City. Her mom owned Second Chance, a small bookstore not far from Times Square. Emma loved to go visit her mom at work, strolling along Broadway and looking up at the dazzling signs and lights. It made her feel like the bookstore was a special place, part of the glitzy barrage that made up Central New York City.
It wasn’t just the journey, but the destination, too, that made her feel good. Second Chance was filled with secrets — books on topics that Emma had no knowledge of when she was twelve. They felt like books filled with arcane secrets on topics from lepidopterology to the nature of consciousness.
Emma went to the book store every day after school, taking the 115 bus to Times Square. On the way, she thought of the wonder-filled place and what surprises would await her.
She loved that her mom let her do her homework in the back of the store. When she was done, she always had time to explore before they left for home at 7:00.
It was the perfect childhood. She had no problems at school, no worries at home, and she had the best parents she could ever imagine.
It all came crashing down on December 16, 2005, two months before Emma’s thirteenth birthday.
Her mom had been driving to the store. The weather wasn’t great, and Emma had worn a heavy winter jacket and her favorite mittens to school, but even so, the bus windows frosted up. Cars slid more than she’d ever seen before.
At just before 10:00, the principal, Mrs. Bokkus-Brown came to her class to get her. She smiled and took Emma to her office and closed the door. Two other women were there, but Emma didn’t know them.
Mrs. Bokkus-Brown smiled and then blurted the news out. “Your mother was in a terrible car accident on the way to work this morning.”
Emma panicked, not knowing what to say.
The principal continued after a short pause. “The ambulance was called and they did everything they could, but your mother died about a half hour ago.”
No. It’s not possible.
Emma shook her head, refusing to allow the news to be true. If she just decided not to believe it, it wouldn’t be real.
“Mrs. Williams is going to take you home to your father.”
She found out later that her mom was hit by a drunk driver. At 9:00 a.m. He was celebrating a new job and had been drinking till late. He woke with his buddies at 6:00 and they started right where they’d left off the night before. He rammed his pickup truck into Emma’s mom’s Chrysler and killed her instantly.
Emma’s dad was a complete wreck and couldn’t function. For the first two weeks he rarely even got out of bed. Emma had to look after both of them. They lived on sandwiches and toast because that was all she knew how to make.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She was hurting too and had no one to take care of her. She locked herself in her room and cried, hard, for the first time since her mom’s death. She’d been trying to be strong for her dad, but she couldn’t be his support any longer.
Eventually, her dad noticed that she wasn’t around him and finally got out of bed to find her. That snapped him out of the cocoon he’d woven around himself.
He gathered her into his arms and they just held each other and cried together. They lay on her bed and just kept each other company for what seemed like eternity. Eventually they had no more tears and he sat up and told her they needed to go shopping.
“I’m sick of sandwiches.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. Her daddy was back.
As hard as it was, they started getting things in order. Emma was forced into the maturity of an adult while not yet in high school. She and her dad talked about the store but they couldn’t bear the idea of selling it. It was Mom’s life.
They hired Joan Aiden, an older woman who knew her mom, to look after Second Chance. She had helped out from time to time, usually near the Christmas rush, so she knew all the ins and outs.
Emma picked through her mom’s clothes and decided which ones to get rid of. It ended up being most. She also learned how to clean and cook a little. Her dad looked after laundry, paying the bills, and his own job at the transit center.
Through the spring, they talked about mom a lot and spent hours watching home videos and looking through photo albums. They both wanted to keep her memory alive.
Emma did well at school. She wanted to take some business courses over at the community college so she could take over her mother’s store one day. There wasn’t very much money, though, so she started working part-time at the store when she was 15.
Joan had a heart attack not long after. She survived but had to stop working long hours. Emma had no choice; she quit school and took over running the store herself.
That made her love the store even more. She loved how the store had so many different books but it focused on rare volumes that weren’t easily available anywhere else. There was a nice reading area with two armchairs and a loveseat with a coffee table in between. The store was a couple blocks west of Broadway, so the rent was still affordable.
Life was good.
The store did well under Emma’s leadership, and six years later, she met Jonathan Lewis.
Emma - Henderson Island
There was a cold wind blowing off the ocean, but that coldness was nothing compared to the coldness Emma felt in her heart.
Jonathan had stolen Team Superior’s money. She still couldn’t believe it, but there was no other explanation. The transaction was in her name and he was the only person she’d told her password to. She hadn’t even told Tanya and Maria. They all had their own passwords that she didn’t know, either.
She forced herself to march behind Tanya, just trying to put one foot in front of the other for as long as she could. They had to finish their task here, but then there would be a very uncomfortable conversation. She had no idea how the team could possibly continue in the game with no money.
Cathy Jameson was no help. She just shrugged and said that she had to play by the rules. She couldn’t help them. Emma had sent urgent messages back to the producers, explaining how the money was stolen, but they weren’t helping, either.
You are responsible for protecting your own money. You knew that.
The message came back anonymously, so she didn’t know if it was from Cynthia or Rick or some other flunky, but she was guessing it was Cynthia. She was ruthless and was probably enjoying a little chuckle as Team Superior stared at their demise.
She forced herself not to cry.
Tanya an
d Maria had been good to her. In fact, Maria was better to her than Emma had been to Maria when it seemed that it was Pietre who had stolen the money. On top of everything else, she was ashamed how she’d yelled at her friend, especially since Maria was so understanding and caring now.
She felt like a total shit.
“There,” said Tanya. They had walked about five miles from the boat, along a path that seemed to have been cut just for them.
In front of them, the path split into two directions. One went to the right. It was a wide path, maybe five feet wide, carrying on at the same elevation they were at. There was no danger at all in walking that way.
To the left, the path sloped up, becoming a ridge along a mountain. The path wasn’t as clear, and it was only about a foot wide. The path kept going up as far as Emma saw, and then it twisted behind the mountain where she couldn’t see it. It was steep and narrow and high.
The girls stopped to catch their breath.
Maria said, “We could jog the easy path.”
Tanya frowned. “It’s so long, though. How long would that take? You’re not much of a jogger, Maria.”
“Five miles an hour? Eight hours?”
“That’s assuming it doesn’t get worse somewhere along the way. And there’s no way we could go that long without breaks. Probably closer to ten hours.”
They all looked at the shorter path.
“It’s awfully narrow, but I bet we can do it,” said Tanya. She seemed to consider it and then added, “Probably less than an hour.”
Maria asked, “Emma?”
She shook her head. “Whatever you guys decide.”
Maria and Tanya looked at each other and then Maria finally said, “Okay, we’ll try it.”
“I’ll go first,” said Tanya. “I think it’ll be easier than you think.”
It wasn’t.
Walking uphill on a twelve-inch wide path was difficult for Tanya, but Maria found it even harder. They were all slim girls, but Maria was taller and so had more bulk to be mindful of. She walked slow and after a few minutes, she was behind Tanya and Emma by about ten feet.
Emma watched her step, but she couldn’t keep her mind from traveling back to Jonathan.
They’d met at that bar. Emma had just felt the need to blow off some steam. It was the first time in as long as she could recall that she’d gone to a bar to drink. She’d taken a book on 17th century England to read and was enjoying it when he’d come up to her. He tried to pick her up but she sent him packing.
He stayed in her mind, though. It’d been so long since she’d dated…
Emma kept an eye on him at the other end of the bar to see what he was like. She was mostly curious to see if he’d keep hitting on other girls, but he didn’t. After his friends left, she closed her book and walked over to him, deciding to give him a chance. He turned out to be a really sweet guy. He told her later that he was normally quite an asshole, but she didn’t believe it.
Now she did.
It was a thirty-five thousand dollar mistake she’d made.
Anger rushed through her and she wanted to pound the damned cliff she was walking on. She really wanted to just fucking beat the crap out of Jonathan, but he wasn’t around. She stopped and hit the cliff.
Again. And again.
“Fucking asshole!”
“Emma, stop!” called Tanya.
“He can’t fucking do this to us!”
Tanya tried to move closer to Emma, to help calm her down but it was too late.
Emma slipped.
Too late, she felt her nerves calm. She was falling away from the stone wall and there was nothing she could do about it.
Things seemed to happen in slow motion. She could hear Tanya and Maria calling her name, but it went on for a very long time. She could see the cliff moving away from her, inch by inch as she was falling to what she knew was certain death below. She’d not cared how high they were walking, but she knew it was way too high to survive.
She didn’t cry and didn’t scream. She almost felt like she was floating as she fell.
Her last thought was that she’d miss her dad.
Chapter 29: Production
Rick - Cedars Sinai Hospital
The hospital room was the largest available. Rick Sanderson stood in the doorway watching Mary sit beside Cynthia. There was no noise except the occasional quiet beep from a machine on Cynthia’s bedside table.
The doctors had told them that she was not going to live another day. Maybe not another hour. A nurse showed Rick Cynthia’s feet. The toes were dark purple. That apparently meant death was already claiming her.
“She was a wonderful woman,” he said.
Mary stood and walked to him. “She still is.”
“Yes.”
Mary was a half foot shorter than Rick but somehow she managed to glare into his eyes. “You’ve ruined her legacy.”
Rick shook his head. “I’ve only followed through on what she wanted.”
“She never fucking wanted people to die! Didn’t you notice how awful she felt when Rob Bors died? She felt responsible and it was eating away at her. That’s what triggered the cancer to eat her alive.”
“You don’t know that.”
“How many people have you killed this week, Rick?”
He was silent, but the ghosts of Brittany, Fernando, and Emma flew through his mind.
“She wanted danger.”
“She wouldn’t have let that happen! And what the hell were you doing having Maria kidnapped? I can’t wait to see what hell you inflicted on everyone else this week. That wasn’t what my mother was all about. She was about creating a challenge, a way for people to have to really stretch to find solutions.”
Rick shook his head. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“After all these years, you never knew my mother at all, did you?”
Rick barely knew Mary. She had no right to say these things. If it wasn’t for Cynthia, he’d never have anything to do with the little bitch.
“Oh…”
They both turned to see Cynthia moving slightly and moaning in pain. She was very drugged from her IV and she wasn’t likely to actually regain consciousness ever again, but she seemed to be mumbling some words.
Rick moved closer to her and took her hand. “I’m here, Cyn.”
He wasn’t sure if she understood. Her mouth was moving very slightly, but he couldn’t make out anything she said. Her lips were dry so he wet his fingers in a water glass and rubbed them on her lips. She didn’t notice.
“Mom, I’m here too.”
They stood silently, each holding one of her hands.
Then she said something that Rick heard and understood. It was faint and almost not there, but it was real. “Love you.”
He didn’t know if she was talking to him or Mary, but he had to take a deep breath and he could feel tears in his eyes.
Cynthia seemed to sniff and went back to mumbling things he couldn’t understand.
He’d been her partner and occasional lover for a quarter of a century, and now it hit him squarely in the face. This was it. She was leaving him.
It hadn’t been real until now, and now another feeling crept over him: loneliness. She was such a huge part of his life, every aspect of his life, and now he’d be out there in the world without her.
He couldn’t stop a tear from falling.
“I love you, Cyn.”
She’d taught him everything he knew about producing television shows. She was the creative genius, and he was the implementer. More than that, she’d taught him everything he knew about life.
And now she was teaching him about death.
Where are you going, Cyn?
He squeezed her hand a little.
Suddenly, Cynthia’s eyes popped open. She stared straight up, not looking to see Rick or Mary on either side of her. She started gasping for air, not able to breathe.
Mary pressed the call button immediately. “It’s okay, Mom. Help is
coming.”
She gasped more, and the awful sounds of her not getting any air into her lungs was torture for Rick. He wanted to give her his own ability to breathe, but that wasn’t possible.
Her body shook and gasped and then she turned and looked directly at Rick.
He knew what she was saying even though she could no longer talk. “Help me, for God’s sake.”
He leaned over to her and looked right into her eyes. “I’ll always love you.”
The tears were rushing down his face now.
Two nurses came into the room but didn’t do anything. There was nothing more to do.
Cynthia made one last gasp for air. Then she was silent and still.
Her eyes were frozen, locked onto Rick’s. He leaned over and hugged her body, and he cried louder and longer than he’d ever cried in his life.
Post-Production
The third week of Scavenger Hunt never aired. Partly that was due to Rick not wanting to do the edits, but more importantly, the executives at Reality TV had taken a 180 shift in their position. They couldn’t be associated with so much death and pain. What had started as an adventure had turned into something far more evil.
They blamed Cynthia and Rick, but Rick was the only one left to go after, so they released their lawyers and filed a massive lawsuit against him.
The lower-level staff at Scavenger Enterprises weren’t as interested in keeping things quiet. Dozens of scenes of the week found their way onto YouTube and TMZ.com. Everyone saw the horrors of the past week, even without it being officially broadcast.
Rick Sanderson left Los Angeles to live in Egypt. He’d always liked Aswan. He moved his money to a bank in the Grand Cayman Islands, where he’d had an account for years. There was little hope that RTV would ever recover a penny, even after the courts ruled in their favor, ordering Rick to pay back every cent of the $30 million they had funded for the show. Rick hadn’t bothered with a defense. He just laid low in the desert and left his previous life behind.
He thought often about Mary’s comments. Had he ever really known Cynthia?
Scavenger Hunt Page 24