Conspiracy of Silence
Page 1
CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE
A NOVEL
GLEDÉ
BROWNE KABONGO
iUniverse LLC
Bloomington
Conspiracy of Silence
A Novel
Copyright © 2012 by Gledé Browne Kabongo
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-4759-4567-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4569-0 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4568-3 (ebk)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012915328
1. Middleclass/upper middleclass women—United States—Fiction
2. Marketing executive—United States—Fiction 3. Childhood trauma—United States—Fiction 4. Criminal trial—United States—Fiction 5. Infertility—United States—Fiction 6. Boston landmarks—United States—Fiction
iUniverse rev. date: 08/12/2013
CONTENTS
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Acknowledgements
Dedication
To my husband Donat, my first reader whose support and endless patience made this book possible. Thank you for lifting me up when I was drowning in self-doubt.
CHAPTER ONE
When Nina Kasai was a little girl, she learned how to deceive. As an adult, she never revealed to her husband the real reason her father wasn’t invited to their wedding; he didn’t know why she turned down academic scholarships from Harvard, Princeton and Columbia, and chose instead to attend college on the West Coast. And he didn’t know why she secretly despised her looks and the attention her beauty brought.
Lately, she’s been receiving a lot of attention. Nina felt as giddy as a schoolgirl as she sat in her office on the twenty-eighth floor of One International Place in Boston’s financial district. At thirty-five, she was the youngest executive to appear on the cover of Executive Insider, a high-profile national business magazine. She kept reading and rereading the cover story as if they were talking about someone else. The almost life-sized congratulatory bouquet of flowers from Marc filled the air with an array of sweet-smelling fragrances that seduced the senses, bringing a dimpled smile to her face.
Phillip Copeland was on edge as he sat in a small conference room three doors down from his target. The source of his discomfort was the image on the cover of Executive Insider. Although he’d been secretly keeping tabs on her, this was the first time in over a decade they would meet face-to-face. Once he discovered she was an executive at Baseline Technologies, the rest was easy—he simply placed a call to his buddy, Baseline CEO Jack Kendall, so they could “catch up.”
Baseline’s PR agency was discussing media placement opportunities with Nina on their weekly conference call. They had just landed her the keynote address at the annual Marketing Executives International Conference, along with interviews with several traditional and online media outlets. She was about to wrap up the call when she heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Nina said airily.
“That’s the best invitation I’ve had all week.”
Nina’s heart fell to her stomach, or so it seemed. She clutched the receiver too tightly as she slowly rotated her swivel chair to face Phillip Copeland, a man she had gone to extraordinary lengths to erase from her memory. It took all the strength she had to end the conference call with some semblance of authority and control. She schooled her features into one of mild surprise and irritation and hoped the shock that was wreaking havoc with her insides wasn’t visible. His slight frame was draped in a tailored designer suit; glasses perched on his elegant nose, enhancing the arrogance he wore like a badge of honor. To her dismay, he hadn’t aged a bit.
“Congratulations, Gorgeous,” he said smoothly. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Lucifer,” Nina said, her cool tone echoing her displeasure.
“That was mean,” he said, frowning.
“No more than you deserve.”
“I was hoping for a better reception. Maybe even a hug. It’s been a long time, Nina.”
“I can’t imagine why you’d think that. I guess some things never change. You still believe the sun rises and sets on you.”
“You thought so at one point in time,” he said, inching closer.
“I wised up.”
Nina stood up to her full five feet ten inches, towering over him with the additional three inches provided by her Louboutins. She suddenly felt claustrophobic and found refuge near a bookshelf at the far corner of the office.
“Why are you here?”
He pointed to the issue of Executive Insider on her desk. “Consider me impressed. I want to retain your services as a communications consultant.”
“Why?”
He looked at her sheepishly. “I need help building my personal brand. I figure you’d be great for the messaging and media strategy, maybe even a little speech writing thrown in.”
Nina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t seen the man in years and he just showed up out of the blue with a consulting offer, which frankly, sounded like a fun side project. A fun side project she had no business entertaining because it was coming from him.
“Why me, Phillip? Why now? There are a number of qualified people in the city who would do an outstanding job. In fact, I can tap my network and recommend someone.”
Phillip knew this wasn’t going to be easy but she wa
sn’t giving him an inch. She glared at him with almond-shaped green eyes that shimmered like sunlight off the water during a sunset, an unusual color for a black woman. Her jet-black hair hung just past her shoulders, obviously professionally styled. Everything about her said chic, sophisticated, and confident, but he knew better. The air of confidence was a performance purely for his benefit. He was willing to play along for now.
“Your work is getting national attention. I want you to advise me.”
“As I said, I’m happy to recommend someone.”
“You get results,” he said, refusing to back down.
She couldn’t dispute that statement. As chief marketing officer, she had responsibilities for sales, media relations, customer experience, advertising and promotion, web services and corporate programs. Her ability to drive revenue and demonstrate return on investment for a function often criticized for its inability to do so was what had caught the attention of the editors at Executive Insider.
Nina’s company-issued smartphone beeped and she was glad for the reprieve. She crossed the room in three brief strides and picked up the device. It was a text message from Gwen, her director of global marketing, explaining she would be late for their meeting.
“Unfortunately, I can’t help you,” she said, turning to Phillip. “My job is very demanding and at the end of the day, I just want to go home to my husband.”
“I can appreciate that,” he said with forced sympathy. “But I would try to make it as easy as possible for you. Maybe an hour or two a week for a few weeks?”
“The answer is still no,” she said firmly.
Nina didn’t know the real motive behind this sudden visit but she was willing to bet her Celtics courtside seat it had little to do with building his brand. Something big was brewing. It had to be to cause him to seek her out after all this time.
“Just think about it,” she heard him say, his voice dragging her out of her thoughts.
“My answer won’t change.”
Phillip picked up a wedding photo from her desk. “Have you told your husband the truth?”
“Don’t touch that!” She snatched the photo away from him.
“I guess I have my answer. Think about my offer.”
“You don’t hear very well, do you?”
“You’ll come around.”
“What if I don’t?”
“I always achieve my objective, Nina.”
“And what would that be?” she pressed, knowing full well his calculating nature wouldn’t allow him to be honest.
“I want one of the top marketers in the country advising me. What else?”
Nina’s mind raced after he exited her office. Maybe she was an idiot to think she could run forever, keep up the lies forever. If Phillip were to expose her, her marriage would be the first in a series of high value casualties. She had invested too much time and energy into living the perfect lie to allow that to happen.
CHAPTER TWO
Nina wasn’t the type of woman who sat around waiting for things to happen but Phillip had her at a disadvantage. His sudden reappearance was a precursor to something much bigger and she shuddered to think what that might be. She’d told Marc enough white lies to ensure he didn’t ask inconvenient questions but she also knew lies had a way of unraveling. When they did, lives usually changed forever. And Phillip knew all her secrets.
She busied herself preparing breakfast in the large eat-in kitchen of the modern four-bedroom colonial she shared with Marc. He protested initially when she wanted them to purchase it, arguing they didn’t need a three thousand square foot house for the two of them, but Nina always looked at the big picture. For her, that included kids running around and breaking things. Their home was in an affluent suburb of eighteen thousand, thirty miles west of Boston—a town voted by Money Magazine as one of the best places to live in America. That was a major selling point for someone who had her entire future planned out. The local schools consistently scored high in the rankings of top public school systems in the state.
Nina turned around and caught Marc Kasai and his muscular six-foot-two frame leaning against the kitchen doorway with a lazy grin on his face. “It smells great in here. Do you need help?”
“I think I have it covered. I made all your favorites.” Nina deposited a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon on the kitchen table and made a second trip to the stove to pick up the steaming hot Belgian Waffles. A quick trip to the refrigerator yielded a large carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice. Marc took care of the glasses, plates, and flatware and then sat down.
“Where did you go last night?” Marc asked, through a mouthful of eggs.
Nina was startled by the question but tried to sound casual. “What do you mean?”
“I reached for you in the middle of the night and you were gone.”
“I couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs to watch a little TV.”
“We have a TV set in our bedroom.”
Nina knew she was being defensive, but she wondered why Marc was making a big deal about this. It’s not like he didn’t know she suffered with bouts of insomnia. She just wasn’t about to admit that this latest round was induced by a heartless bastard.
“I didn’t want to disturb you. You were sleeping so peacefully.”
He seemed satisfied with her answer.
The house telephone rang while Nina was clearing the dishes, shattering the serenity of their Sunday morning. An aggravated Nina answered.
“Yes?” she snapped.
“Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”
There was only one person she knew who exhibited this particular brand of arrogance.
“Why the heck are you calling my home?” She dropped her voice to a whisper so not to arouse her husband’s suspicions. “How did you get this number?”
“You’d be amazed what you can find out if you know where to look.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s been five days since our last conversation. You only have two days left to accept my offer. I’m even willing to double your fee.”
“That’s two days to figure out how to get you off my back. Anything can happen.”
“Don’t get smart with me Nina. It’s not a good idea.”
“Really?” she asked sweetly, and then hung up.
“Who was that?” Marc asked, not missing a beat.
“A very pushy head hunter with no respect for boundaries. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Strange you would get a call at home on a Sunday. Which firm does this headhunter work for?”
“It’s not important. He won’t be calling any more.”
“How can you be so sure?” Marc insisted. “With the publicity you’ve been getting, Baseline’s competitors are going to try and poach you.”
“Well, they can’t. I signed non-compete and non-disclosure agreements.”
Marc looked like he wanted to discuss things further but Nina changed the subject.
“Don’t you have a soccer match to get ready for?”
“I do. Thanks for breakfast,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on her right cheek.
Nina reached for her purse on the counter after Marc headed upstairs. She took out her cell phone and went through the call log to see if Phillip’s number had shown up. It was logged as an unknown number.
Nina punched speed dial number three. The call went to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me,” she said. “Tell your playmate to go home. We have a category five storm on the horizon.”
Charlene Hamilton was a force of nature, all ninety-eight pounds of her. The self-proclaimed chocolate fox and hair-styling maven had blown into Nina’s life twenty-one years earlier when they were freshmen at Westwood High School. Charlene threatened to rearrange the intestines of a badly behaved boy who had been giving Nina a hard time. The discovery they shared a common Caribbean heritage sealed the friendship that had proved unbreakable over the years.
“How many people did you run off the
road to get here so fast?” Nina teased as Charlene plopped down her favorite Coach bag on the kitchen counter.
“Child, please. You can’t be throwing around words like ‘category five’ and not expect consequences.”
“There’s somewhere I need to be this weeken—”
Marc appeared around the doorway in full soccer garb. The conversation came to a halt.
“Looking luscious as always Marc,” Charlene said shamelessly. “Don’t hurt yourself on that soccer field now. We need you in peak condition.”
“I won’t break anything, Charlene,” he said, humoring her. “I promise.”
Nina shrugged her shoulders and gave Marc the you-know-how-she-is look. Marc bid both women goodbye and disappeared from view.
“Girl, if you ever get tired of him, I’ll take him off your hands.”
“Only if I’m in a box in the ground with worms for company.”
“I can wait.” Charlene grabbed the white porcelain jar marked cookies off the counter and headed for the kitchen table. She set the jar down and reached to the bottom and came up with an oatmeal raisin, her favorite.
Nina heard the engine of Marc’s car roar to life in the garage. It was her cue to speak freely.