Trapped in Paradise (10 page)

“You can tell me to go to hell. But why didn’t you do it?”

“I love my wife and the life we share,” he answered simply. He examined the young man who sat across from him. They’d been on several business trips together over the past year, yet he knew next to nothing about him. Eric would listen to him ramble about Leslie for hours, but never mentioned his own life. He corrected himself. He never allowed the young man to get a word in edgewise. “You’re about to go on vacation, right?”

“It’s Phoenix or bust.”

“We vacationed there the summer before last. Leslie’s people come from Flagstaff.” Seeing he’d veered the conversation to Leslie again, he stopped. An awkward silence filled the room. John could talk about Leslie or business for days, but he found simple small talk difficult at best. Leslie was their charisma. His heart warmed with thoughts of her. She made him complete. Maybe he’d take a few days off and attend a readers’ conference she’d been talking about with her. He wasn’t too excited about her leaving town without him anyway.

Eric finally said, “I’m glad you came to your senses. You have a beautiful wife and everything you’ve ever said about her sounds,” he hunched his shoulders, “I don’t know. I can tell you love her.”

“That I do.” He paused. “I know I’ve made you uncomfortable. I apologize for putting you in this position and for my behavior. Both will never happen again. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Beat that Friday traffic. Don’t worry. I know the boss personally.” They both chuckled.

“I believe I’ll take you up on the offer.” He stood. “I have packing to do.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

 “Leslie.” John stepped onto the marble foyer of their palatial-ranch-style home. She didn’t answer, so he walked through the family room into the kitchen, turning on the lights along the way. She hadn’t left a note on the refrigerator, and dinner wasn’t prepared. He opened the door connecting to the garage and peeked inside—her car wasn’t there. His annoyance quickly changed to worry. It wasn’t like Leslie to leave without contacting him first or leaving a message.

He returned to the family room to check the caller ID. Her mother hadn’t been feeling well. Maybe she’d taken a turn for the worse, and Leslie rushed out. He scrolled through the numbers. Relief washed through him when he saw Leslie’s number. He played the messages, deleting the dozen he’d left before he came upon crying. He held the phone close to his ear. It was definitely crying, and it sounded like Leslie.

“J-John,” she finally choked out his name. “I… I can’t…” The line went dead.

He frantically hit buttons to replay the last message. His Leslie was in trouble and needed him. The phone did everything, except replay the message. He threw the cordless phone across the room. It crashed against the wall and shattered to pieces.

He paced from the entertainment center across the room to the wet bar. What if she were kidnapped? After the feature article in
Forbes
magazine about his distribution company and family, every crazy person out there would know what she looked like and how to find her.

He ran his hands over his short wavy hair, calculating how much cash he could come up with quickly. He’d give anything to get Leslie back. He had three million readily available and had access to another twelve if needed. He bowed his head and prayed for her safety.

A sparkle in the hardwood floor caught his eye. He knelt to examine closer. He picked up her engagement ring. She wouldn’t have taken it off voluntarily. He pulled his cell phone off his belt clip to call his brother, a detective for the Dallas police department, when he saw an overturned photo under the coffee table. He figured the kidnappers must have taken her picture to show her condition.

He reached forward, afraid she’d been harmed and the ransom would be more than he could raise. It didn’t matter the price. He’d come up with the money somehow. He hesitated before touching the photo. Maybe Robert, his brother, needed to dust it for prints. He took the handkerchief out of his front breast pocket and used it to cover his hand. He picked up the photo and flipped it over.

Hands trembling, he held the picture of him sitting in the corner of the hotel bar kissing Carmen. “Oh, my God,” he gasped.  If Leslie saw the picture she’d think he… “Shit!” What if there were more pictures? He couldn’t finish the thought. He had to find Leslie and explain.

He dropped the picture and ran to the bathroom off his bedroom. Her toiletries were gone. “No, no, no!” He rushed into their bedroom and yanked the drawers out of the dresser. Her underclothes were gone. “Please, God, make it stop.”

Breathing ragged, he staggered to the bed. Realizing he still had the cell phone in his hand, he used what little faculties he had left to speed dial his brother.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Autopilot carried Leslie from the Dallas Fort Worth Airport to her hotel room on the edge of Upper New York Bay. Autopilot fully engaged, she checked in and unpacked her bag. She could see the Statue of Liberty from her room, but she wasn’t interested in sightseeing. She closed the heavy drapes.

A surreal Leslie stared into her dark eyes from the restroom mirror: not happy, not sad, not…She ran cold tap water in the sink and splashed her face. It should be safe to turn the autopilot off now. She was over the shock. She filled one of the short glasses sitting on the counter with water.   

She brought the glass to her lips. An image of John slow dancing with a young woman came to her mind. The still water in the glass rippled, as if a small pebble had been dropped into a calm lake. John sitting in the corner kissing the young woman, drawing his hands through her hair increased the ripples to waves. John leading the young woman into his hotel room. She couldn’t breathe. The waters splashed over the rim of the glass. The pictures were so clear. She could see into his room: the woman stripping, him kissing her body, him smiling as he closed the curtains. The sharp clank of her glass tumbling about the sink echoed off the bathroom walls.

Chest constricted, even the slightest inhalation gripped her. She crumpled to the floor. This had to be a heart attack. Where was that autopilot when she needed her? She couldn’t depend on anyone. She crawled to the bed and lay lifeless, waiting on death to take her.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

“Has Leslie Gibson checked in yet? I believe she may be under the name John Gibson.”

The clerk checked her terminal. “Yes, sir.”

“What room is she in?”

“Sorry, sir, but we don’t give out our guests’ room numbers.” The clerk motioned toward a large black phone on a marble topped pedestal near the end of the check-in counter. “You may use the house phone to connect to guests’ rooms.”

“Thank you.”

She handed his credit card back to him. “Enjoy your stay.”

“I will.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Robert tossed his cell phone into John’s lap. “How could you cheat on Leslie?” He sped his Lexus down the highway to John’s office. The defeated shell of a man who sat beside him couldn’t be the brother he’d always looked up to.

John watched out the passenger window as the sun rose over the city. “I swear I didn’t.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that is you in the pictures kissing someone other than your wife. Hell, they even got shots of you in the hotel room.”

“I swear to God.” He sorted through the damning pictures. “After I closed the curtains, I came to my senses. I didn’t do it.”

“Well, you should have because no one will believe you didn’t. You were set up.”

“I can’t believe this.” He stared at the stack of photos. “Who would do such a thing? No this can’t be.”

“I know you like to think you’re the big mac daddy and all, but my contact in LA confirmed Carmen’s a con artist. Who stands to gain from throwing your family into upheaval?”

Defeat rearing its ugly head, John fought back. He picked up Robert’s phone. “I’ve got to call Leslie and explain. I can’t lose her.”

“Oh no you don’t.” He snatched the phone from John. “You’ll be lucky if you get one chance with her. When you speak to her, we’ll have all of the evidence. No matter what, your ass was wrong. You shouldn’t have fallen for the trap, but maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll consider the extenuating circumstances to your lax in judgment. The other day you were talking about buying out some small Internet firm. Maybe one of the partners doesn’t want to sell. Everyone knows Leslie’s your life. If you’re busy chasing her, you’ll forget about them.”

John shook his head. “That sounds flighty. This whole thing’s a mess.”

“I don’t know the who or why. I do know that someone set you up, and we need to figure out who fast or you’ll lose your business and your wife. Have you angered your assistant?” He merged onto the off-ramp.

“Sheila isn’t involved in this. You’re letting the cop in you go overboard.”

“Who else knew your whereabouts? Someone had to give Carmen and the photographer the information.” He stopped at the light, then turned right.

“At least a dozen people knew what hotel I’d be staying at.”

“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary at the office? Anyone acting strange?”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t think of anything. Except.” He shrugged. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“What?” Robert turned into the parking garage.

“One of Leslie’s pictures is missing.”

“Who the hell would steal a picture?” He pulled into a parking space.

Fear returned with a vice grip. “What if someone is after Leslie?” John bolted out of the car. “What if she’s in trouble? I’ve got to find her.”

“Slow down.” Robert followed close behind. “You’re too emotional. I’ll handle this.” He grabbed his brother’s arm, stopping him. “Put your faith in me. I know what I’m doing.”

John ran his hands over his face. “If anything happens to her…” he trailed off. “I love her. I can’t lose her.”

Robert prayed he’d never see his brother so broken again. He embraced John. “You two love each other. It’ll be a lot of work, but you two will make it through this. First, we need to find out what we’re dealing with.” He released his brother. “Come on. We need to snoop through Sheila’s desk and anyone else who knew your whereabouts.”

“I have to tell her I love her.”

“Stop forcing yourself on her. You’ve already called four times since I’ve been with you. She needs time alone. She would have answered had she been ready to speak with you.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Leslie stared at the room phone. To answer or not answer rumbled through her mind. She’d known John would find her eventually. Decision made, she’d let it ring two more times, then answer. The ringing stopped.  “Coward,” she called herself. The phone began ringing again. He’d never give up. She drew in and released a deep breath, then answered the phone with a calmness she didn’t feel. “Hello.”

“Um, I’m sorry, but is this Martin Harris’s room?” asked a smooth male voice.

She felt like the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders. “Sorry, but you have the wrong number.”

“I apologize, but I’m glad.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Glad? Okay,” she drawled out.

He chuckled. “Yes, glad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have heard your lovely voice.”

Totally embarrassed, she flushed. She had no idea what to say.

“May’s come in with a bang,” he continued. “It’s beautiful outside. I hope you aren’t stuck inside all day.”

The only light in the room escaped between the drawn drapes. Hiding from the world wasn’t working. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t working. “I hope you get out to enjoy this beautiful day also.”

“I will. Good-bye.”

She hung up then opened the curtains. Sun rays poured into the room, blinding her right after she’d seen how correct the man was about the day’s beauty. He’d actually complimented her voice like she was a radio personality or something. She wondered what the woman kissing her husband sounded like. She grinned as the sound of chickens clucking came to her mind. 

Leslie strolled along the boardwalk toward the Statue of Liberty. Happily married twenty-one years then bam. When had things gone wrong? Why hadn’t she seen the signs? They argued from time to time, but nothing out of the ordinary. Leaning against the railing, she prayed for composure. She’d never felt insecure before, but was making up for lost time in the insecurity department now. Why wasn’t she enough for him? He’d always been enough for her.

Her eyes burned and throat tightened. Settled on one of the benches, she watched ferries of tourists enjoying the bay. She loved John with all of her heart, but was old enough to know that love wasn’t enough. She deserved—no—demanded that along with the love came trust, respect and commitment.

A couple nodded as they passed. The man was older and had the woman on his arm like a trophy. John was ten years her senior. She could remember the times he’d paraded her around. She’d thought their relationship was deeper than the superficial, but he obviously wanted to throw the old trophy in the closet for a brand new shiny one.

Past sick of feeling sorry for herself, she gave herself sixty seconds to wallow in self-pity then she had to quit. She looked at her watch. Sixty seconds passed. She didn’t feel better, but she did head back to the hotel. She’d left Dallas in a hurry and needed to go shopping for more clothes. No matter how much she wanted to crawl into a hole, she had to keep living life.  She wouldn’t fall apart. She’d make it through this rough patch.