I wondered what she was looking for me to say here.
“I have a mind for numbers. For marketing and for strategy. I became sort of valuable. Scratch that, I became sort of invaluable, and the stupid, dirty jokes seemed a small price to pay for the kudos I started getting in the weekly staff meetings. The promotions, the pay raises. I could have been the one to take that company over in the end.”
Realization washed over me. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. She had been ousted by a new influx of men. I volunteered my deduction. “And then Jude and his friends came along.”
“What?” Laila’s expression turned confused and then indignant.
“Dear God, no. Do you think Jude and the Tom Sawyer twins took my life away just because of some garden variety male chauvinism? Oh no, my dear. I wish. I could have surpassed the clumsy trio on my merit alone. I have no doubt. Sure it would have taken longer, but I could have done it.”
“Oh,” I said deflated. “So what did happen between you all?”
“I had to get cocky. When Dominic Treese decided to run for the Maryland Senate seat, I agreed to run his campaign for him. Could you imagine a dumber idea?”
She hiccupped a laugh.
“But Laila, that’s what you do,” I said gently. I was feeling nervous for her. I knew I should feel more nervous for me.
Laila slammed her drink down. “It is now. I have no choice. But back then, I was on track to be the first female CEO of that goddamned company, of Treese Construction. The Board was very impressed with what I was doing. I think Dominic knew that on some level, and wasn’t too happy about it. He hoped I’d run his campaign and it would marginalize my work at the company.”
“But Dominic’s campaign was over before it started, right? Did he blame you for losing?”
“Is that what you think happened? Dominic Treese dropped out of the campaign because he was losing? Dominic Treese doesn’t lose. Believe me, he makes sure of that. I learned that the hard way.”
Laila poured the last of the liquid over melted cubes and stared at me. “Treese invited me to a strategy meeting shortly after the Maryland campaign announcement. At the W Hotel. Turns out the only attendees to the meeting were him and me. And the room number he gave me wasn’t a conference room—it was a suite covered with rose petals with champagne chilling bedside. That asshole actually thought he was going to wine and dine me. I turned on my heel to leave. But Treese said, ‘No, stay. I misunderstood the signals you were giving me. Let’s not let that derail us from an actual planning session.’”
“The signals?”
“Yeah, you know, saying ‘Hello, Mr. Treese’ each morning. Not running for the hills when he talked back to me. Trusting him when he said he wanted me to run his campaign because I was brilliant. He lured me to that meeting with all sorts of promises of huge bonuses and prestige, and insinuations that when I did finally take over the company, and when he’d stepped down from any management type role for his new life in politics, I’d be a lock for any government contracts bids. I was heady with the promise of the future.
“I was prepared to sign on to be his campaign manager right then and there. God, for a smart woman, I was so stupid. The secretaries knew it. The interns knew it. The other workers knew it. Everyone knew it but me. Why do you think there were literally no other women working there? I wasn’t special. I was stupid for sticking around. And for thinking he actually wanted to give me a special position in the company.
“And you know who else knew it? Jude Birch and the Tom Sawyer Twins. Still, they let me go on and on at lunch about what an opportunity I was getting. I told them I was going to that strategy session at the W. They looked the other way. Jude told me later he thought I actually wanted to sleep with Treese. Wanted to. That’s what a fucking asshole your Prince Charming is.”
“You got out of that strategy meeting at the W, right?” I asked with a hint of panic in my voice.
“I got out of there all right. But I had to pay a toll to Treese, first. He said after he had put all that work into me, he wasn’t going to let me leave without giving him what he had looked forward to all week.
“And then he threatened me that if I ever told anyone, he’d make sure I was ruined in this town.”
“Laila, I’m so sorry. This is all news to me, of course. And I’m sure Mena has no idea.”
“How can you be so sure?” Laila looked momentarily suspicious but it was fleeting. It was replaced with the same vicious anger she’d been holding in her eyes since the moment I walked in.
A wave of guilty relief cascaded over me. Jude and Laila hadn’t had a relationship. Jude had thought Laila wanted to sleep with their boss and she was insulted. That’s why she hated Jude all these years? That’s the blackmail she was holding over him?
“And so you’re still mad at Jude for not warning you about Treese? I completely understand your anger, Laila. It’s more than justified.” I had already forgiven him before the words came out.
Laila stood up and walked to me. On heels so high, and with a gait so balanced, I couldn’t believe she had just finished off a bottle of whiskey. But her breath betrayed her as she stood inches from me. Hissing.
“Aby, Jude didn’t just not warn me. He knew exactly what Treese did to me. I told him. I got back to the office, I went directly to Jude’s office, closed the door, and told him I was going to report Treese to the Board, and bring the company down with him. Jude asked wasn’t I concerned about it being my word against Treese? And I said yes, of course.
“That’s why I was begging Jude to get his friends to corroborate my story, knowing what they did about him. But Jude said he wasn’t in that room at the W, and that everything he knew about Treese was just rumors. He wasn’t getting involved. He’d lose his job and maybe Treese would even destroy his already pending offer at the U.S. Attorney’s Office. Treese had written the letter of recommendation to an old buddy at the Department of Justice, and Jude was convinced it had been instrumental in getting him a job. Treese had tentacles everywhere, and Jude didn’t want to be part of a scandal. I went to him bruised and broken, but he wouldn’t agree to tell the truth, because he didn’t want to get involved.”
I gasped in physical pain. How could my Jude have done something so horrible? This woman was clearly broken as a result. And it was as much from Jude’s actions as Treese’s.
“But that’s not like Jude—”
Laila retreated back to her chair on legs that looked more shaky now. “Exactly. Jude had been a friend—a good friend—all through law school and up until that very moment, in fact. You expect terrible things from men like Dominic Treese. But not from men like Jude Birch. You expect better from men like that, until they let you down very spectacularly. And then you expect nothing from anyone ever again.”
I backed away from Laila with tears streaking down my face.
The truth unmasked.
Jude was a liar. He was nothing but a liar.
He was no better than me.
Maybe it’s not the truth that sets us free at all. But the realization that everyone is lying.
We stayed silent for a few moments as the truth sunk in.
Laila wasn’t to be feared. She was to be pitied.
I still had questions. “But Jude helped you quash Treese’s aspirations in 2015, right? When Donald Trump became the presidential candidate?”
Laila looked up at me over the amber drink like she was seeing something in me for the first time.
“You’re from rural Pennsylvania, right?”
“Un hunh.”
“There’s this place there I’ve always been obsessed with. The Hawk Mountain Sanctuary.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that place.”
“Do you know what used to happen there?”
I shook my head.
“Hunters would come and perch there waiting to kill the migrating hawks as they flew by. They’d shoot them and leave their rotting carcasses there. They believed the hawks were killing off t
he food supplies. They believed they had no choice other than to kill these beautiful birds of prey.
“Of course what they failed to account for is that Mother Nature takes care of her own. With the birds of prey gone, other animals in the nearby areas began to flourish in unchecked numbers. Killing the birds of prey didn’t preserve the weaker species. Indeed, it only served to create larger, unchecked populations of predators. Everything was out of balance.”
“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”
“You know who saved the whole thing at Hawk Mountain?”
“Let me guess. Some genius of a man?”
“No. A woman.”
“Who was she?”
“A very rich woman who gave a damn. She took pictures of all the carcasses and then she took the photos back to New York City and got some other people to give a damn And then she bought the whole damn park and had signs posted so no one could shoot hawks anymore.
“Politicians can only do so much, Aby. But money? Money can do a great deal more. And smart, rich women can do the most.”
“I’m not following.”
“Aby, I asked Jude to introduce me to Suzana Treese, which he did. An apology gesture of sorts, I guess. He’d met her once or twice when he worked for her husband. Once I told Suzana everything, she wanted to destroy her husband just as much as I did.”
“She helped you quash the Presidential bid?”
“Oh she did more than that, Aby. She invested in a corporate competitor, and set out to destroy all his investments. She’s currently the primary shareholder—calling all the shots—in a little company known as Out The Bullies.”
Everything I thought I knew was unraveling.
“It all makes sense now. Suzana helped you quash Treese’s campaign aspirations and then she helped Jude win. All so that her husband would lose. Politically and financially. She knew with Jude in power, her husband’s investments wouldn’t be so secure in this city. She helped you get revenge by hitting him directly in the pocket.”
Laila nodded her drink in my direction like I was finally getting it.
“I wanted to expose him. What he did to me. To others. But Suzana kept pointing to that poor girl, Monica Lewinsky. She was destroyed by Bill Clinton. Just for telling the truth. Suzana said she didn’t want that to happen to me. She had another plan. A better plan, she promised.”
“She’s right, you know. He would have dragged you down with him.”
Laila shrugged.
“And The Washington Truth? You and Suzana were feeding them information all throughout the campaign?”
Laila chuckled. “Something like that.”
My fears that Monica actually had something to do with Jude’s shooting reared up again.
“So now what?”
“Well, it hasn’t been as satisfying as I’d hoped. We beat Kylie Rutter and Innovative Media very publicly. Their shares are practically worthless. But I still feel like shit, and Dominic Treese is still running free. So you know, cheers.” Laila raised her glass in my direction.
My eyes burned. I thought about all the time I’d wasted being jealous of Laila. And all the time I’d wasted thinking Laila was a threat to all of us.
I remembered my mother’s painful last words. Whether it was the morphine, exhaustion, or delirium, she hadn’t been outraged. She hadn’t been indignant. She hadn’t stuck up for me, or told me to go press charges. She’d told me what she thought was the best advice she could give me in those final moments—move on. Just move on.
I knew how Laila felt. Dismissed. But I also had come to understand that my mother was right. Had I stayed in town and fed my bitterness against Rafe Wilson and the system, it would have only destroyed me. I moved on. I created a new life. New love. Healthy love.
But Laila? She’d been feeding this hatred for years. She had been hurt irreparably by Dominic Treese and she blamed Jude—maybe only somewhat irrationally—for contributing to the pain she was still feeling. For dismissing it. For failing to give it a name or a spotlight.
Laila was angry and bitter, but she wasn’t a murderer. I’d tell Officer Bruce only that much. We’d have to all move on. Maybe it was a gang-related shooting, and nothing else. Maybe I told Monica where Jude and I were going to be that night, but so what? There was a roadblock a few blocks away investigating gunshots in the area that night.
I needed to quash the seeds of doubt Dominic Treese was still trying to nurture in me.
“Dominic Treese is still trying to convince people that Jude’s shooting was not accidental.” I blurted out.
Laila murmured, “Asshole.”
At that curbside visit, I’d been face to face with evil and not even realized it.
I stared out the window of our old campaign strategy room. Where everything happens.
And what about Mena?
I asked the question out loud. “How much does Mena know about Dominic, Laila?”
Laila gave a hearty, sad laugh. “According to Suzana, nothing. She protected her all these years. Mena Treese is so delusional that she actually thinks I’m the bad guy here. But then again, she disavowed her fortune. Her legacy. I believe on some level, she’s always known. Known that her father was capable of doing bad things, and that she wanted a safe distance from him.”
“Laila, I’m sorry. I really am.” I took a step toward her. “I don’t know where we go from here.”
Laila put her hand up to stop me.
“You don’t know. You don’t know how it is to be broken at a time in your life when everything is just starting. Your confidence, your hope. Your sense of self. You don’t understand.”
And then I pulled up a seat and told Laila Rogers that I absolutely did know exactly what that was like.
“What did you do? To get past it all?” Laila asked when I was done.
“Lots of therapy and some medication and lots of self-help books. I moved here and threw myself into my work.”
“And it’s all helped?”
“It’s helping. Present tense. It’s an ongoing battle. An ongoing struggle. I still take it one day at a time. Outing him through my writing on the Out The Bullies app helped a lot. It helped to put it in words. I even wrote his initials when I’d write about him. R.W.”
Laila nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ve seen that. Well, maybe I’ll join Out The Bullies, too. Who knows? Listen, I feel like I need to be alone right now, ok?”
“Can I drive you somewhere? Home maybe?”
Laila stood up shakily, “Sure.”
I drove Laila home in mostly silence and dropped her off without getting out. I watched her walk up to her door and get into the house like I was dropping her off for curfew. She gave a short backhanded wave and disappeared inside, leaving me alone to drive home to confront Jude.
When I got home, the lights were on in the living room, shining like little spotlights on the flamingoes and the picture of Front Runner, and the day’s edition of The Washington Truth on the coffee table. I turned them all off and headed to the master bedroom.
“Jude,” I whispered.
“Hmm.”
“How does your chest feel?”
“Ok. Where were you? I tried to call you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—” I reached instinctively for my phone, and realized I didn’t have it and didn’t remember having it the whole time I talked to Laila. I wasn’t even trying to tape her. I was just listening to her. My phone was probably still in the car plugged into the car charger.
“Hold on.” I walked out to the curb to retrieve my phone and as I ducked my head into the car, I was overwhelmed. The almond scent Laila had left behind in the passenger seat helped me put the final pieces inside the puzzle.
I was wrong about the shooting. Monica didn’t have anything to do with it. And it wasn’t a gang-related shooting either.
I stumbled back into the house to ask Jude if he remembered, too. And for the first time since the shooting, I was hoping he could still tell only
the truth.
Chapter 32
We were headed back from a political event. The kind of event where Jude was masterful. Champagne flowed like lava and the conversation was stuffy and meaningless. Jude was making promises to everyone in the room. Including me. He promised me we could swing by Isaiah’s house on the way home and give him the football he’d left behind at the Foundation. I even heard him bragging about the promised errand to a few people at the event.
I’d escaped to the bathroom at one point of the evening. I was tired and stressed. I was dodging calls from Officer Bruce and trying to figure out how to convince Jude we should leave all this behind. I’d spotted Laila at the event, and I’d been avoiding her. I’d noticed Jude had been avoiding her, too. I jotted a new entry on Out The Bullies. I probably left the app open carelessly; even though Officer Bruce had mentioned that geofilter, I don’t think I believed him until all the pieces came together for me. Someone would have been able to use that app to track me and Jude to Anacostia. If they had connections to Out The Bullies. And if they were hoping to track Jude to a place where stray gunshots might not raise too many eyebrows.
I knew Isaiah would be missing his football. And it was important to me that he knew he could count on me. I knew he’d be so surprised and happy at the small sacrifice of bringing it by his foster home on a weekend, so I made Jude promise that we would not go home without dropping it off.
After the event, I drove. It was only about 7 pm, just starting to get dark on that January evening. Jude had had a few glasses of champagne, and I’d only had tonic water because I was getting up early the next day. Plus Jude didn’t know where we going. Anacostia was as foreign to him as Serbia. I knew Isaiah’s neighborhood. I’d been there before plenty of times.
There was a roadblock as we approached Isaiah’s street. A police car stopped in the road lengthwise. You could get around him if you wanted to. Which I sort of did at the time. But his lights were on, and I could tell we were supposed to stop and probably turn around. Isaiah’s street was the next one over. I didn’t really know how to detour. I rolled my window down and called out to him.
Why We Lie Page 24