Betrayal (2012)

by Danielle Steel

  Jim Kingston called Brigitte for an appointment with her during their last week of shooting before their hiatus, and at first she tried to tell him that she was too busy to see him. She seemed unimpressed when he told her he was from the FBI. Tallie had vaguely mentioned to her that she had talked to them about Hunt taking the money. She made it sound like more of a routine formality, or something she had done to scare him, so Brigitte hadn’t been concerned about it, nor interested in making time for him in her schedule. Tallie hadn’t said it was a priority. She had said very little about it.

  “I have a very busy week,” Brigitte told Jim officiously. “I have to be on the set with Ms. Jones.”

  “Next week then,” Jim said easily. He had a casual way about him that put people at ease, took them off guard, and usually made them open up to him.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll be away,” she said brusquely. “We’re on hiatus next week. Maybe when we get back.” He almost laughed when she said it. Most people didn’t have the guts to say “maybe” to the FBI. He was used to getting a more cooperative response than that. Brigitte appeared unconcerned.

  “Actually, this isn’t a ‘maybe,’ ” he said with laughter in his voice. “We need your help about the lost or stolen money. Since you’ll be away, let’s make it tomorrow, shall we?” This time it was a rhetorical question and there was no option in his voice. “Or today, if you prefer. I’m sure Ms. Jones will be very happy to have you meet with us. I can call her myself if you like.”

  There was a split-second pause. “No, that’s fine.” Brigitte sounded casual and made it clear that she had better things to do with her time.

  “Noon tomorrow then?” Jim said pleasantly. “On the set? Or at your place afterward?”

  “My place at seven,” she said, pleased to call the shots and set the venue. She wasn’t going to meet with the FBI on the set. What if someone thought it was about her? Jim was delighted with her suggestion. It fit perfectly with his plans. She had walked right into it with ease.

  The next day he arrived at her house on Mulholland Drive promptly at seven. It was a beautiful old home that had been remodeled, with a handsome garden and a big pool. Her Aston Martin was in the driveway. Jack Sprague was with him when he rang the bell. Jim had worn a suit, which he often did for work, and a tie, which was rare in L.A. His son Bobby said it made him look like a cop, but it was a good suit. After all, as he told Bobby, he was FBI. It was a standing joke with them.

  Brigitte answered the door wearing a short Balenciaga dress. He wouldn’t have recognized the label, but he knew it was expensive and looked great on her. She had a heavy gold cuff on one arm, with small diamonds sparkling in it, and the diamond studs on her ears that she often wore. She had just had her long blond hair blown out, and it looked fabulous, and she had a fresh manicure and pedicure. Her makeup was subtle and flawless as always, her hips slim, her bust generous, and she looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of Vogue. She was an enticing sight to any man, and no one would have believed she was thirty-nine—she didn’t look a minute past twenty-four. Jim Kingston was impressed, and Jack nearly drooled.

  Brigitte was cautious as she opened the door. Jim introduced both of them, and walked into the entrance hall as she stepped aside. Beautiful old cathedral ceilings and an antique crystal chandelier met his gaze. There was a smattering of antique furniture, a round modern carpet, and a large modern painting above the stairs. She led them into a living room that overlooked the pool. It was quite a place. It didn’t have the comfort and ease of Tallie’s house, but in some ways it was similar, and looked like what Tallie’s house could have, if she’d made as much effort with it as Brigitte, or spent as much on the art and antiques. Jim looked at Tallie’s assistant carefully, as she sat down on an elegant white couch. She was actually much less beautiful than the woman she worked for, but she had maximized and enhanced all her assets, surgically or with flattering clothes, hairstyle, and makeup, and wound up looking far more impressive than her boss. But it was Tallie who was the real beauty, in spite of her ragbag style, no makeup, and disheveled hair. Brigitte just knew how to work it all better, and looked like, and apparently lived like, a star.

  Her house was spectacular, and seemed as though a decorating magazine was about to arrive to shoot it. It was exquisite, impeccable, and elegant, and the garden looked like a corner of Versailles.

  “Wow! This is quite a place,” Jim said with obvious admiration as he glanced outside. “How long have you had it?” It sounded like a conversation, not an interrogation, which was a sign of his considerable skill. Jack admired his style. Brigitte blossomed like a flower as he chatted casually and admired her home, and Jack just stared at her. As their kids would have said, she was “hot”!

  “I’ve been here for seven years now,” she said proudly. “I was in Santa Monica before, on the beach, but the house was too small. I came into some money, so I upgraded to here. It’s a work in progress. I’m always working on it. I just redid the upstairs, and remodeled my bathroom, and put all new trees in the garden.”

  “I’d love to see what you’ve done,” Jim said, smiling at her. “I’m remodeling right now too. It’s driving me nuts. I can’t get anything finished.” They were talking about contractors and what a headache they were as she led him upstairs. Her bedroom looked as though it had been designed for Marie Antoinette, in contrast to Tallie’s very stark bedroom he had seen at her home, whose main features were a large flat screen and an unmade bed. Brigitte’s bedroom was totally perfect, and she had a large antique four-poster bed, covered in miles of pale yellow silk.

  “An heirloom?” he asked, pointing to the bed, and she nodded.

  “It was my great-grandmother’s. I’ve had it in storage for years. Thank God my evil stepmother didn’t take it.” She talked about her a lot, the evil stepmother who had caused her to flee San Francisco and move to L.A. eighteen years before. She had been there ever since, although she went home from time to time, but the stories she told about her stepmother were legion.

  She showed him three handsome guest bedrooms on the second floor, all with antique beds, although less grand than her own, and the remodeled bathroom that he gazed at with envy and awe.

  “That would take my contractor two years to produce,” he said, admiring an enormous round tub with a Jacuzzi in the middle of the room, and a fabulous shower built for two. Everything in the bathroom was pink and white marble, including the walls and floor. And it had a view over the garden. You could see the layout of the beautiful garden even better from here.

  “It took my contractor a year,” she admitted, “and I had to beat him up every day, but he did a good job. And he came in at a good price.” She was obviously very proud of her home. Tallie enjoyed hers, but you could tell she didn’t really care. All her creativity went into her work. Clearly, this was Brigitte’s realm of expertise and pride and joy. She had no children, so she could afford to spoil herself. She didn’t have to worry about kids in college. All she had was herself.

  They walked back downstairs afterward as they chatted, and she offered them both a drink, and they declined. Jim asked for a glass of water instead, and they walked into her kitchen, which was state-of-the-art, with every piece of fancy culinary equipment imaginable. Everything was done in black granite, even the kitchen table.

  “This really is quite a house,” he said in awe, and she beamed. “You must love it here.” He looked envious, which thrilled her and flattered her ego.

  “I do. I work hard, and it’s a joy to come home at the end of a day or a trip. Especially if we’re in a hut somewhere in Africa while we shoot, with snakes all over the place.”

  “You must be happy to be back from Palm Springs,” Jim commented, taking the glass of water from her.

  “Yes, I am. ‘There’s no place like home!’ ” she quoted from The Wizard of Oz.

  They went back into the living room again then and sat down.

  “So tell me,” Jim said with a sigh, n
ursing his glass of water in the Baccarat glass she had handed him. “I gather Hunter Lloyd was taking Ms. Jones’s money from you.”

  “Yes, he was,” Brigitte said with a disapproving look. “I was very upset about it, and I should have told her, but I was afraid to screw up their romance if I exposed him.” Jim nodded as though he understood completely and admired her for her silence.

  “I gather he had a romance with you too,” Jim said, and Brigitte looked as though she were about to fall off the couch.

  “Not really,” she said, recovering quickly, “not at all. What we had was a blackmail situation. He got me drunk one night, and I ended up in bed with him, he forced me to have sex with him, and from then on he blackmailed me, and said that if I didn’t continue sleeping with him, he’d tell Tallie we had an affair. I did it to save our friendship and my job.”

  “That’s a nasty position to be in,” he said sympathetically. “It must have been rough for you.”

  “It was.”

  “How long did that go on?”

  “Three years,” she said with a martyred look.

  “Why did it stop?”

  “He got involved with someone else.”

  “That must have been a relief for you,” Jim said, and took another sip of water as Brigitte watched him.

  “It was. Does Tallie know about this?” Brigitte tried to look relaxed as she asked. “I never told her.”

  “No,” he said conspiratorially, “I got it from another source, but I assumed I could discuss it with you.”

  “Of course. Actually, it’s a relief not to have to keep it a secret. I would never tell Tallie, though. I think it would break her heart.”

  “It probably would. She seems pretty upset about the other girl, the one he left her for, Angela Morissey, the one who’s pregnant.”

  “It was a rotten thing for him to do to Tallie.”

  “Do you know who told her?”

  “I did. I thought she should know. It came out when she asked about the money. I finally had to tell her about that too. Hunt got away with it for four years. And she’s such a good person, she doesn’t deserve it,” Brigitte said with her bright blue eyes. “We’ve been friends now for seventeen years, ever since we went to film school together.”

  “I think she started out as an actress, didn’t she?” Jim asked with interest. He looked fascinated by every word she said. And as always, Jack sat in a chair nearby, looking bored and half asleep, but he was listening too.

  “Yes, she was in a big movie, as a supporting actress. She was very good. She hated it, though. All she ever wanted to do was direct after that. She had some offers, but acting was never her thing. She made an indie movie and the rest is history.”

  “What about you?” Jim asked, and Brigitte laughed, showing rows of perfect white teeth. She had a fabulous smile, and he had to admit she was pretty enough to be an actress; she just wasn’t quite as distinctive looking as her boss. “Were you ever in movies? You should have been.”

  “A few minor ones. I kind of went to film school for fun. I was never really interested in making movies, like Tallie. I did some modeling when I was in college, and then I helped Tallie make her first movie, and I had more fun working with her after that. I never had the kind of drive about it that she did.” She implied without saying it that she didn’t need to. “And let’s face it,” she said modestly, “I don’t have her talent.” At least she gave her that, Jim thought. “She’s going to be one of the legendary filmmakers of our time. I’m sure she’s going to win an Oscar one of these days. She deserves it. And she doesn’t need Hunt to make her career. She’s done it all on her own.” Brigitte sounded proud of her longtime friend, and they exchanged a smile.

  “What do you think Hunt did with her money that he was taking from you?” He went back to that again, and Brigitte shrugged.

  “I have no idea, spend it on other women, maybe.”

  “He doesn’t seem to need the money,” Jim said practically.

  “Who knows? That’s like all the Beverly Hills housewives who get arrested for shoplifting. Some people just get a thrill out of stealing other people’s stuff.”

  “Did he ever give you anything, expensive gifts when you were involved with him?”

  “We weren’t involved,” Brigitte corrected him. “I was being blackmailed.”

  “Well, did he ever give you anything?”

  She shrugged again. “Some nice dinners, a couple of weekends at good hotels. We went to Hawaii once, and to New York a couple of times, when Tallie was on location without me.” Jim didn’t comment.

  “Was he generous with Tallie … Ms. Jones …?”

  “He paid some of the bills, maid, utilities, groceries, a few things they bought for the house together.”

  “And then he’d steal her money to pay for it? What a sleazy trick,” Jim said innocently, and Brigitte didn’t comment. She had said enough. “Did she ever cheat on him?”

  “Not that I know of. She’s not that kind of woman. She’s really a very quiet person, and a straight shooter.” In contrast to her assistant, Jim wanted to add but didn’t. He didn’t like this woman, but nothing he was thinking about her showed. He had led her down the garden path very nicely, to all the places he had wanted to visit along the way. She was reveling in the attention, and what appeared to be their common interests and shared points of view about life. Jim had made interrogation an art.

  “Can you think of anyone else who might be taking cash from Tallie?” Jim asked with a thoughtful look.

  “Victor Carson maybe. He’s kind of a fusty old guy, and he has an expensive-looking younger wife.”

  “Yeah, that’ll do it.” Jim laughed at her comment. “We’ve already spoken to him and Hunter Lloyd.” She looked surprised when he said that, and then he flattered her, and she looked pleased. He implied that he was flirting with her, and she clearly liked that too. “We saved the best for last.”

  “It all stopped anyway when he left, didn’t it?” she asked with a flirtatious smile.

  “It appears that way. But if it’s someone else doing it, or several people, it’ll start up again. Be sure to let us know if that happens. Right away.”

  “Absolutely. I had no idea he was taking as much as he did. He took it in relatively small amounts, and it slipped right through my fingers. I never really kept track.”

  “And Ms. Jones never pays her own bills or checks her accounts?”

  “She doesn’t have time, especially when she’s on location, or even in town.”

  “She doesn’t sign her own checks, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Brigitte said primly.

  “Does she ever look at her bank statements?”

  “She never has. That’s why she has me. I keep it all in good order, and then send it all to Victor Carson.”

  “That’s a lot for you to keep track of too,” Jim said sympathetically.

  “I love doing whatever I can to help her. We’ve had a wonderful time together for all these years.”

  “She told me how much she counts on you. She said she has complete and total faith in you,” he assured Brigitte, and she looked pleased. “She’s lucky to have you,” he complimented her again.

  “I’m just as lucky to have her,” Brigitte said as Jim stood up, and Jack appeared to wake up and followed them from the living room back to the main hallway.

  “Thanks for the tour of the house,” he said warmly. “It really was a treat. Great house you have here, and you’ve done a terrific job. You can always become a decorator if the director’s assistant market dries up,” he said with a warm smile.

  “I hope it never will,” she said happily, and opened the front door.

  They were gone a minute later, and Brigitte bounded up the stairs to the bedroom and took off her clothes. Tommy was coming by that night, and she wanted to get ready before he did. The FBI had taken forever, they had been there for two hours. The questions were all run-of-the-mill, but she thought
it had gone well. She hoped it was the last of it, especially since there had been no outflow of Tallie’s cash since Hunt had left. There was nothing further to pursue. The mystery had been solved. And the FBI could go back to whatever else they did.

  She slipped into a perfumed bath then, just as her cell phone rang. It was Tommy, telling her he would be late, but he promised to be there in an hour.

  “Perfect. That’s all the time I need to get ready for you,” she said with a sultry smile that would have melted steel. He could sense her good humor even over the phone. He could hardly wait to get there. Their nights together were fantastic, and he was going to Mexico with her over the hiatus. To the Palmilla in Cabo San Lucas, one of the most luxurious hotels in the world. She had invited him. She was quite a woman, and he had never had so much fun or wild sex in his life.

  “So what do you think?” Jack asked Jim as they drove down the hill after their visit to Brigitte. The whole setup was impressive, and she was a beautiful woman in a gorgeous house. Jack couldn’t figure out why she needed to steal and lie. She had everything going for her, and a fabulous life.

  “You know what I think,” Jim said quietly with a serious expression. He particularly liked the part where she had been taken by force and blackmailed for three years thereafter by Hunter Lloyd, which had included expensive dinners, fancy hotels, and vacations. It didn’t sound like a hardship for Brigitte to go along with it.

  “Are you ready to go to one of the deputies on this?” Jack asked him. “We’ve been doing interviews for weeks.” They had interviewed Tallie’s maid and gardener too, who had testified that Hunt had always given them tips and was a very generous man. They had interviewed Brigitte’s employees too, who said they never saw her, but commented on the variety of young men who went in and out of the place. When they showed them a photograph of Hunt, none of them had ever seen him at the house, but the employees of the Chateau Marmont and the Sunset Marquis had, and remembered them well. They had been regular guests for several years, and always seemed to be having a great time. They drank a lot of champagne, ordered room service, and never left the room. And sometimes they spent the night. It was clear they were both enjoying themselves and their stays at the hotels had been frequent and regular.