Secrets in Suburbia Read online

  Curling into his warm chest, I promise him that I will. I only hope I can keep that promise.

  ∞∞∞

  Stuart calls me the next morning to let me know that the private investigator was able to get all the proof we need. He gave me the okay to confront Rich, and with my approval, would be starting on the divorce papers. I was giddy at the thought of watching Rich squirm while I laid out some of the evidence. I wasn’t about to lay all my cards on the table just yet, but enough to make me feel better. “Let’s see you talk your way out of this one, buddy,” I cackle as I get ready for my girls day with Elena.

  “This is so amazing!” Elena squeals as the esthetician patiently works around her moving mouth. Elena’s bubbly attitude can charm anyone, including the person whose job she is making difficult right now. I’m all done with my facial, so I take over the conversation, knowing my juicy gossip will slow her chattering.

  “Remember how you told me that Heidi went on an extended vacation last year?” Conspiracy deep in my voice, “Well I found out that she wasn’t on vacation, but in jail!”

  “What?” Elena practically jumps out of her chair, knocking the bottle out of the esthetician’s hand. That didn’t work out like I planned. Oops. “No way! What on earth could she have done to go to jail? Heidi’s so…”

  “Prim and proper,” I finish for her. I notice that the esthetician is finished applying the concoction, so it’s safe to drop the bombshell. “She was arrested for stealing from a sex shop!”

  I tell her all the details, both of us cracking up. When we finally catch our breath, I tell her about Old Elmer, also.

  “That explains so much, Sam,” she giggles. “I thought he was just getting older and it was affecting his mind, making him slower to respond, you know?”

  After our facials, we are separated for waxing, to be followed by massages. I made sure to give her the gift of relaxation after the pain she is not expecting with her first bikini wax. “Trust me Elena, Robert will love your lady bits even more waxed,” I try to calm her nerves. “Just don’t agree to a Brazilian. You want a landing strip.” I make her repeat it back to me and promise I will tell her what a Brazilian is later.

  “I think she ripped off parts that were supposed to stay,” she stage whispers, limping as she passes me in the hallway on the way to her massage.

  I am pretty sure the entire spa heard her screams during her wax. She certainly has some creative ways of swearing without swearing. Ducks in a desert? Dinosaur dung? I just love this girl’s quirks.

  “How are your lady bits feeling?” I ask her as we settle into the chairs to get our manicures and pedicures done.

  “Much better after that massage,” she admits. “And I took a peek at the results. I think you were right. Robert is going to love it. The first time I let him go…” she points to her crotch area, “Well, he loved it, but had to go floss the hair out of his teeth.”

  “I’m sure he was just happy that you two are expanding your horizons.”

  Elena grins broadly, “You know, he sure is. He keeps saying how thankful he is that I befriended you. And I’ve never been happier! I can’t believe I missed all those years of orgasms.” A flash of sadness crosses her face, “I tried to tell Victoria and Rachel, but they said I was going to hell.”

  My heart goes out to her. I want to tell her so badly, but I know it will hurt her more than help her. “Eh, who cares what they think. You have plenty of other friends that love you.”

  “You're right. They are just crotchety ladies because they are missing out on the bliss of orgasms!” The women painting our nails try to act professional and hide their amusement, but soon they crack and join us in our laughter.

  After we catch our breath, Elena casually mentions, “I was getting the newspaper this morning and I could have sworn I saw Jake leaving your house.” She quirks her eyebrow in question.

  I feel terrible lying, but I feel the need to protect him. He should not have left through the front door, but he thought it was early enough that cutting through the front to his driveway would be safe. I don’t want Elena to hate me. I know I can’t tell her the whole story without causing a lot of pain and misery for everyone, so I quickly come up with an excuse.

  “Oh, I asked him if he could help me move some furniture around and it was the only time he had available.” There, not a total lie. “I have a plan for Rich that I’ll tell you about later. The furniture is a big part of it.” Leaving out information is not lying, right?

  “Jake is the biggest sweetheart,” she gushes. “I can’t wait to hear what you have in mind for that cheater.” Thankfully, she accepts this answer and moves on to ask my opinion on how she should get her hair styled.

  In the end, she ends up getting a cute layered angled bob. I’m amazed at how young and stylish she looks. It matches her personality perfectly.

  “We should grab a late lunch and then go shopping for some more clothes,” I suggest. “Then tonight, you and Robert can have a bonfire with all your old dowdy clothes. We’ll get you some sexy lingerie and you can burn the granny panties.”

  “Samantha, you are a terrible influence,” she mocks. “But I love that idea!”

  While we shop, I let her in on my plan. She has a lot of great additions. I wonder if Elena will ever cease to surprise me. She scares me a little bit with her ideas of revenge. Note to self: never get on her bad side.

  I drop Elena off at her house and go home. I hear a tapping on the back patio door. Jake. I know it’s him and my heart soars as I drop my bags and race to greet him.

  “Victoria is going to be home soon, but I couldn’t let the weekend end without doing this…” He wraps an arm around my back. Holding one hand, he locks his lips to mine. I almost faint when he dips me with a flourish. It’s so romantic. And a bit panty melting.

  We hear a car pull in his driveway. With one last kiss, he winks before turning to leave through the gate. I’m left with wet panties and a rapidly beating heart.

  Chapter 17

  Monday morning, I fly through my work, the comfort of the searches keeping my nerves at bay. Rich is coming home tonight, his “flight” arriving this morning, and then he will be heading to the office. At least that’s the story he tells me.

  With nothing left to do, I decide to try the elusive debtor again. I open up the file marked “Johnson, Michael J.”. His name is so common that he’s near impossible to find. He hasn’t used his social security number, driver’s license, opened any accounts, or bought any real estate in his name in years. Two years to be exact. It’s almost like he fell off the face of the earth. My bet is that he had a new identity made. I’ve reached out to a few contacts in that field, but I know they aren’t going to give up any information, even if they have it. At least I can say that I tried all avenues.

  It would be much easier if I had a photo of him, but those are all gone as well. He has millions in unpaid debt between the medical bills and the various companies he owes. When he closed up shop, leaving a lot of people unpaid, he also cleared out all web pages related to his business. He has literally disappeared. I’ve been concentrating on looking at all the construction companies in the area hoping to get a hit on one of them. Through the years, I’ve learned that most people don’t change careers just because they are trying to avoid a debt collector.

  Once I resign myself to the fact that I’m getting nowhere with this case, I decide to finally look up Jake and Victoria’s information.

  First up is their home. I pull up the records. “That’s strange,” I double check the address is correct. It is, but it makes no sense. The home is under the name of Victoria Johnson. I could have sworn she introduced herself as Victoria Taylor. Maybe that’s her maiden name. And why isn’t Jake’s name on there? Maybe this is one of the reasons he can’t divorce her; the house is in her name. I have so many questions. Maybe the background check will give me some answers.

  I look at the clock and realize that I’ve spent too much time working.
I need to prepare for Rich’s arrival.

  ∞∞∞

  I hear Rich’s car pull up just as I’m setting out the last dinner plate. My plan is to give him a false sense of security before I go into attack mode. Even though I’ve prepared for this, practicing lines in the mirror, I feel queasy. I try to stop my hands from trembling, showing how jittery I am. “Deep breaths. In 1-2-3. Out 1-2-3.” I repeat the breathing until I feel the tension in my body ease. My hands are still shaking from adrenaline, but I hope that I can hide it.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Rich calls out in a deep timbre voice.

  I take another deep breath. “I’m in the dining room,” I call back.

  Entering the room, Rich takes in the table before settling his eyes on me, seated to the right of the head of the table. My folder of evidence is hidden beneath the linen tablecloth in the chair next to me. “What’s all this?” he asks.

  “I knew you would be tired and hungry after a long weekend, so I wanted to give you a nice relaxing welcome home,” I lie smoothly. “I decorated the dining room over the weekend and wanted our first meal in here to be romantic.” I don’t tell him that I had a very sexy, tall man helping me to move the furniture around and fill the high shelves of the tall buffet. Or that this would be his first, and last, meal in this dining room.

  Rich seats himself at the head of the table. He fills me in on his weekend between bites. I smile and nod, acting like the good fucking wife I used to be. I don’t know what is bullshit and what is real with anything he says.

  “The boss man informed me today that they are having a celebration in two weeks. It’s a black-tie affair. He has some special announcement to make,” his voice increasing in excitement. “It’s to celebrate how great the company has been doing. And, I think that announcement could be my partnership.”

  “I hope so. You really deserve it with all the long hours you’ve been putting in.”

  “Yes, And I’ve brought in the most clients with the highest sales. I do deserve that promotion.”

  I try not to gag or scream out liar, “I know you will get everything you deserve, darling,” I say in my sweetest voice.

  When we finish our meal, I bring out desert Rich’s favorite dessert, chocolate lava cakes. “What did I do to deserve such a fantastic wife,” he croons.

  Time to get down to business. I seat myself before responding in an even tone, “You don’t deserve me, Richard. I deserve much better than a lying, cheating, no good asshole like you.”

  His mouth drops open as he stares at me with shock in his eyes. When he finally manages to find his voice again, he does exactly what I knew he would do. Deny, deny, deny.

  That’s fine, I have this all planned out. I start with the phone call log, evidence that is easily deniable, needing to hear him lie to my face. I want to make him sweat. I want to throw him off his game. I want to make him think that he’s fine before I turn the tables on him. I’m going to put him through the same rollercoaster of emotions that he put me through. He started this game, but I’m going to end it.

  Laying the phone log on the table in front of him, I ask “Why are you calling this number so often? And before you lie, you know what I do for a living and that I know who it belongs to.”

  Rich does a pretty good job pretending like he’s searching his mind for who the number could belong to. “I think that’s a client of mine. Could you tell me the name so I can confirm it?”

  “Lydia Gilbertson.”

  He has his charming smile on his face now and I know what that means. “Lydia? Her and her husband are clients of mine. I was working on an ad campaign for them.”

  “In the middle of the night?” I point to the midnight phone calls on the paper.

  “They kept very unusual hours because of their business.”

  “Then how do you explain the morning phone calls?” the irritation in my voice is not something I have to fake.

  “I can’t control when they call,” he defends. “Come on baby, you know I’ve been working hard. I’m sorry that I have had to go on more trips than usual, especially at a time when you could use help with all the unpacking.” He tries to turn it back on me. “I know you are lonely and stressed out, being in a new neighborhood and having me gone so much. I think your feelings are causing you to think these crazy thoughts.”

  Did he just turn it back on me and imply that I’m lonely and crazy? Oh fuck no. Time for bigger guns.

  I pull out the map I made, my little art project. I used different colored markers for each day that he was at a specific location. I made neat little notes indicating the date and time that he was at these locations. Martha Stewart would be proud. “How do you explain your phone being in Gresham Park when you were supposed at in Massachusetts?”

  “What the fuck is this, Sam?” He seems to be getting a little flustered, but is covering it up with indignation, “You have been spying on me? Un-fucking-believable!”

  “Oh sweetie, that’s not all. Would you like to see what’s behind door number two?” Before he can answer, I slide out a copy of the hidden bank account and check. First I set down the bank statement. “Mind explaining why you are hiding money?”

  He blows out a frustrated breath. “How did you get into my accounts? Never mind, you know now, so there’s no sense hiding it. I’ve been saving up my vacation time and part of my commissions. I wanted to surprise you with a cruise and tour of Greece.”

  He’s so full of it. “Okay,” I say sweetly. I want him to think he’s got me before I pull out the next piece. “I didn’t realize that Greece has French hotels. I guess it’s my bad that I thought La Petite Mort was something entirely different.” I’m killing the innocent look right now. Hollywood here I come.

  His face goes white as his brain catches up with my words and his eyes take in the copy of the check that I set in front of him. “I suppose you have done your work and found out that it’s local.”

  “Yep,” I pop my P. “The one that your phone has been at on my little map here.”

  He seems to recover quickly, “But what you don’t know is that I was offered an investment opportunity by the owners. Lydia, and her husband Todd, were impressed with my sales pitch and offered me a chance to become a silent partner. That is why there are so many phone calls between us and why I’ve been there.” He looks at me pleadingly, “I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. Hotels are risky.”

  I give him credit for being quick on his feet. He is a very skilled liar. I’m sure he knows the website looks like a normal hotel and it is very difficult to find the members only portions. He has always underestimated my skills. I feel like letting him relax a little. I’ve practiced this scenario in my head multiple times, and I’m prepared to play this game to the end.

  “Maybe you're right,” I give an exaggerated self-deprecating sigh, “Maybe I’m just lonely in this house and miss you so much that it’s putting silly ideas in my head.”

  Rich starts to give me words of comfort and I let him for a moment. I even squeeze out some tears.

  When I know that he thinks I’m going to drop it and feel like a terrible wife, I go in with the rocket launcher, “Or maybe I was right all this time.” I slide a picture out of the folder, one that I had taken, and lay it down on the table in front of him. “I also know that la petite mort is French for the little death. A reference to an orgasm in their culture.”

  He hangs his head, tears forming in his eyes. He knows he’s been caught. Yet I still don’t expect the truth from him. I’m waiting with bated breath to hear what kind of story he will try to spin.

  “I know this looks bad, but I swear I didn’t have sex with any women,” his voice pleading. “I met Lydia and Todd as clients and did their ad campaign. I wasn’t lying about that. We got to know each other, and they offered me… us, they offered us a discounted membership to their club. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Us?” I question, “Then why were you there alone doing this without me?”<
br />
  “They have very strict membership guidelines. I had to try it out with them before they would allow you to join us.”

  “LIAR!” I shout. “You know me better than that. You know I wouldn’t ever be into this kind of thing. I am not a swinger, nor do I enjoy watching men fuck. We have our kink and you damn well know this is not a part of it! And if you think that cheating is okay because you were trying it out before you brought me, you are fucking nuts.”

  He has tears dripping from his eyes now, “Please listen to me,” he begs. “I wanted to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time. I’m attracted to men and women. I have been for as long as I can remember. I was actually secretly dating a guy in high school. Then I met you and we were- are so perfect together. I fell in love and never thought about doing anything with a man again. Until I met Todd.”

  “Look Rich, I don’t have anything against you being bisexual.” I’m not totally heartless or close minded. “Just because it doesn’t turn me on, doesn’t mean I think it’s wrong. It doesn’t mean I think you're wrong.”

  He looks up at me with hope. I almost feel bad that I’m going to crush it. “But what I can’t deal with is the lying and cheating. You made vows to me and you broke them. You’ve obviously found happiness somewhere else and I’m not what you need.”

  “You are Sam. I’ll stop. I won’t go there again, I promise,” he begs.

  “The thing is Rich; I can’t trust you enough to believe that. I don’t want to live my life sneaking around, following you, spying on you. What we had is over.”

  He begs me to change my mind, but I won’t. I can’t. “I’m done Rich. My attorney is drawing up divorce documents.” I decide to lay my demands on the table, “Here’s what is going to happen, Rich. You can spend the night in the guestroom. But you are going to leave this house tomorrow. You are going to continue to pay for all the bills for me to keep this house until we get our financials sorted out in court.”