CHAPTER 22
Trey and Tylar were on a cruise. Tristan and I were helping out with Preston while Jean spent some time with her family. I was so happy when Tylar had come home. She and Trey were working things out.
Tristan was pulling babysitting duty at our apartment while I worked the upstairs bar on Saturday night. Trey and Tylar were due back tonight. They were going to be stopping over the following day to collect Preston and tell us about their cruise.
We didn’t have live entertainment scheduled this evening, so the club was not overly crowded. I was hoping that I could duck out early and go home. I was pretty sure that Tristan could use some help with the babies. I was taking inventory of the liquor when Eddie cruised over from the other bar.
He leaned over as I was crouched down counting.
“Hey Gina, when you get a second, check out that couple sitting back against the far wall in Booth 7. That chick looks kind of familiar. She’s with some old geezer. I swear to God her hand is inside his drawers and I think she’s whacking him off.”
“What?” I stood up quickly, banging my head on the edge of the counter.
“Shit,” I said, rubbing my head.
“Sorry,” Eddie said sheepishly, heading over to a table to get their order.
I went over to the CCTV underneath the bar and switched it on. Tristan had installed cameras for real about three months ago. I pressed the button that corresponded with the area of the bar where Booth 7 was located. The camera activated from above and the screen showed the couple. Eddie was right; she was definitely doing something to him underneath the table. Her hands were out of view, but you could see movement of her upper arms and shoulders.
(Holy shit! That is Amber Stratton!)
I adjusted the focus on the camera to zoom in. I loved this high-tech shit. I recognized the old geezer as well. It was one of Trey’s partners at the law firm. His name was Pierce, I think. The camera now had a clearly focused view of Amber leaning over and kissing Mr. Pierce; her hands were all over his crotch. His hands were under her sweater.
This was definitely a photo opportunity that shouldn’t be passed up.
(And press ‘record’. There, that should do it.)
I went about my business allowing the bitch to dig her own grave. I smiled to myself as I hatched my plan against the bitch.
They left about an hour later. I got a new DVD out of the box and put it into the PC to burn a copy of what the camera had recorded.
(Voila)
When I got home later, I put the DVD in to watch. About halfway through, Tristan came into our room and saw Amber and Mr. Pierce on our flat screen.
“What the hell? Is he doing what I think?”
“Yep. He’s finger banging her pretty good there, isn’t he?”
“That’s Amber,” he announced, finally figuring it out.
“Duh?”
“Gina, what the hell is this?”
“Just some lewd and lascivious behavior in a public place caught on security cameras, Tristan. Nothing illegal about that, right?”
“Who’s the guy?”
“He happens to be Mr. Pierce of ‘Pierce, Harmon, Richardson & Sinclair. I believe Tylar told me that he is one of the founding partners.”
“What are you planning to do with this DVD?”
“I haven’t decided yet, Tristan.”
“Will do me a favor?”
“What?”
“When you do decide, keep me in the dark, please?”
“You’ve got it.”
I had Preston dressed up in a dark green, velveteen dress, white tights and black patent leather shoes. I had done her hair up in a fancy little braid with a dark green ribbon intertwined.
“There you go, sweetie. You look so pretty for Mommy and Daddy. I bet you’ll be happy to see them, won’t you?”
“Uh huh,” she said, “Mommy, Daddy home,” she squealed, clasping her hands together and smiling.
Tylar had phoned earlier to let us know they were on their way. She had filled me in on what had happened with Trey’s credit cards being cancelled; and coming home to find her clothes had been cut up. How freaking creepy was that? I had decided right then and there to put Amber’s shit in the wind, as we used to say back in Jersey.
I had typed a small note on our computer and printed it out, along with an address label to Mr. Pierce at Pierce, Harmon, Richardson & Sinclair. The label was marked ‘Private & Confidential’ in bold, red letters. The beauty of the DVD was that the camera had been focused at eye level on the two bodies, clinging and feeling all over each other; to the viewer, it would appear as if someone had taken the video with a smart phone, or small digital camera such as a P.I. would use. I was thankful that Tristan had gone to the expense of having the tiny video lenses embedded in wall hangings around the club.
The note was short and to the point:
Douglas,
Your behavior towards my sister is reprehensible. She confided to me that you expect sex from her if she wants to remain a partner. You either end the affair with her or get prepared to have your partners (and your wife) see a copy of this. Amber did not put me up to this. Please do not tell her that I sent you this; otherwise it won’t be pleasant.
- Libby
That should fix her wagon. Pierce would be fairly certain that Amber was behind it, but not being 100% sure, he would be too paranoid to tell her in case her ‘twisted’ sister did send it without her knowledge and decided to carry through on the threat to show the video to others. If nothing else, Pierce would make sure that Amber was neutralized in some fashion. My guess was a pink slip with a nice, hefty severance.
I put the note and DVD into a bubble pack envelope and set it on the dining room table to mail out. I hoped it didn’t backfire. I figured Amber was due some karma.
I had Preston all packed and ready to go. She was in the nursery now, watching Tristan change Reese’s diaper. She loved helping with the baby. I spotted the envelope and decided I had better take it down to the lobby to mail before Trey and Tylar got here, and before I lost my nerve.
Once I had deposited it into the mailbox downstairs, I pushed the button for the elevator to go back up. That is when I heard the commotion from the street. I heard screeching tires, followed by the sound of breaking glass and crumpling metal. A car horn sounded as if someone was thrown up against it.
(Holy shit!)
I went outside onto the sidewalk trying to see what had happened. It was in the next block down. I saw an SUV that had crashed into the building on the corner; smoke was coming out from under the hood. People were running over to it. Probably some drunk driver I thought to myself. Then I noticed another group of people gathering at the cross walk between the corner and the building directly across the street from ours. What was that about?
I stepped out on the sidewalk and heard a loud, wailing scream. Someone was lying face down in the street. I could see a black, suede bomber jacket. People were hollering to call an ambulance. On the other side of the street, yet another group of people were gathering around someone else it looked like. That was where the screaming had been coming from. It had stopped. It was quiet now. In the distance I heard the sounds of sirens getting louder.
I hoped that Trey and Tylar could find a place to park with all of the emergency equipment coming. I turned to go back into the building. I felt funny being a ‘Looky Lou’ when some tragedy occurred like this. Something made me stop and turn back. I went back to the curb, walking north closer to where the man with the black jacket was lying on the pavement. Something was familiar; I looked beyond him over to the sidewalk where I recognized Tylar’s red jacket.
(Oh my God!)
I turned and ran back into the building. I pressed the button for the elevator again and again.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I sobbed, pounding on it now. The door man had seen me run back in; he was now outside on the sidewalk trying to see what all of the commotion was about.
The doors finally opened and I raced inside, pressing the button for our floor, again and again.
By the time I raced through the door of our apartment I was hysterical. Tristan looked up as he was cradling Reese in his arms; Preston was right beside him babbling. She stopped and looked up at me with her big blue eyes, Trey’s eyes. I lost it.