Wicked Game (22 page)

“I’m sorry, baby.” Was all he said before she heard him walk away.

“Where is that vodka?” She looked up at the two women passing secret meaningful glances. “And there better not be any tranquilizers in it. I’ll kick both of you in the ass if you try to slip me something. I don’t care whose mom you are.”

* * * *

Functioning on very little sleep, Jaime paced the hallway waiting for the commissioner’s panel to finish questioning Cass. After she’d calmed down, after a glass or two of liquid courage that didn’t stay inside her, and after the cavalry arrived, the game plan for the day took shape. Armed with photos of his property, the blackmail letters, and all of the packets of damning photographs along with Detective Ryan’s stalled investigation, Mitch was able to mount a defense that should save Jaime’s job. Public opinion was another matter altogether, but that was for a later date.

The blogger, LuSINda Cummings—God, what a monster—gave testimony as well. Under extreme duress, she admitted that she received the photos from a woman claiming to be Jaime’s jilted fiancée. She admitted the sneak attack on Cass the day before, and naturally assumed that Lisette was the jilted fiancée when she wrote her scathing “cheating scumbag” story about Jaime, going so far as to call Cass a whore for taking his money while she was screwing him. She published the bondage photos as proof of Jaime’s philandering ways. Never mind that he and Lisette had parted ways months before that happened.

Mitch had been unsuccessful in reaching Lisette, which left Jaime to wonder why she would have gone to such lengths to punish him. Especially when he could ruin her if he chose to retaliate. Why find a nasty skank Perez Hilton wanna-be? Why blackmail him? Why didn’t she just ask him for the money outright? There were too many whys and too many lies.

When Cass stepped out of the office, she looked shaky but she held her head high, and color had returned to her cheeks. She looked lovely in a white skirt and blue silk blouse that set off her eyes, another pair of killer ankle-wrap shoes on her feet, these in navy blue. She left her hair down, and he wanted to run his hands through it, pull her into his arms, and just hold her until it was all better. But he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“How’d it go?” He settled for taking her hand while they waited for a verdict.

“Fine. They asked me a lot of questions about, well, everything. How I came to be employed by you. How long we’ve known each other. If I knew about the photos. I told them the truth about everything. About all those years of fighting with you and that we were both surprised to find ourselves attracted to each other. I told them I’d never met Lisette, and to my knowledge, she had not attempted to contact you. Why is this so important anyway? They can’t make the pictures go away. They can’t stop the scandal that’s escalating outside this room. They can’t give me my dignity back.”

“I know, Cass. I’m sorry, but as horrible and selfish a thing it is to admit, the first step is to make sure I am cleared of any wrongdoing. Sexual misconduct isn’t tolerated in the league anymore. I know that sucks. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I’ve already filed defamation charges against that Lusinda creature, and if we find Lisette, I’ll … I’ll wring her neck. Then all we can do is hope it goes quietly away.”

“But Jaime, what if…”

She stopped talking when the coaches and commission representatives walked out of the room. Her hand gripped his tightly as they waited.

“We’re going to turn this matter over to the proper authorities; stalking and harassment does not fall within our purview.” A gray-haired man with a strong grip shook Jaime’s hand. “We trust this will go away as quickly as possible.”

“We can only try, sir.” He made himself remain cordial, but his nerves were to the point of fraying beyond his control.

“Jay, we hate to do this, but the press is waiting. We want to get a blanket on this fire as quickly as possible. I’m sorry, but this is the only way. Just tell the truth—this was a consensual, private matter, and Miss Cummings clearly has a vendetta. We’re all here for you. The coaches, the team, everyone is outside.” Marcus Wells came to his side, his hand on his shoulder giving him comfort.

“Okay, Coach.” He cringed inside. He didn’t mind talking about the game in interviews but this—this was too personal, too close to home. He squeezed Cass’s hand. “Are you up to this, Pepper? You can stay here if you want to.”

“No, I’ll come. I might pass out or puke during it, but I’ll be right there with you.” The smile she wore was tight. He could see her pulse racing at the base of her neck. She looked as frightened as he felt.

“Well, okay then, let’s get this over with.”

They stepped out into the bright sun-covered field. Jaime shielded his eyes as he looked over the crowd assembled in the fan area. Cameras, microphones, mini recorders—every sort of device he’d ever seen, trained right on him and then onto Cass. She held her head up and walked with him, holding his hand for comfort. Just as he stepped up to the podium loaded with microphones, she squeezed his hand before letting him go.

“Well, I guess you all know why we’re here today. So I’ll skip right to the good part if you don’t mind.” He cleared his throat, feeling sweat break out on his upper lip. “Lusinda Cummings alleged on her blog that I am cheating on my supposed fiancée with Cassandra Pendleton. The truth is, Lisette and I split in the early spring. We discovered that we had nothing in common. To my knowledge, she is still in Europe, and I’ve had no contact with her since April before Cass came back into my life.

“The photos that Miss Cummings posted on her blog were offensive and damaging. Alluring and titillating, too. I guess.” There were some snickers in the crowd. He ignored them. “But the fact of the matter is those photos were taken of me and Miss Pendleton without our consent or knowledge. All of the photos, and yes, there are many more than what Miss Cummings posted, were taken while we were alone in the privacy of our home. Some of the photos were shot through windows with telescopic lenses. There are others of Cass and me sleeping in our bed. These photos should not exist. The person who took these photos came onto our property without our permission and violated our privacy. And now, whoever this person is, who is using Miss Cummings as a mouthpiece for his or her vile agenda, has posted our most intimate moments for the titillation of the Internet and to harm my and Miss Pendleton’s reputations and our careers.

“I will not apologize for what I do in the privacy of my home. I have only one thing to ask you to consider before I take Miss Pendleton home so we can try to put our lives back on track. If someone were secretly filming you in your bedroom, what would the world see? Think about that before you judge us.”

People started shouting questions, but Jaime wasn’t going to answer questions. He reached for Cass’s hand and started to lead her away from the podium when a voice shrieked over the others.

“Liar. You are a liar, Jaime Dalton.” The speaker dropped the J sound in his name, replacing it with the H sound, and to his knowledge, only one other person in Miami had ever called him Jaime.

“Alicia? What are you doing here?”

“You brought that whore into our home.
Our
home. You brought her right in the front door, and you kicked me out on the street. I begged you not to bring her home. I begged you not to hire her, and what did you do? You made me carry that whore’s luggage into my room. You gave that whore my room, and you tossed me aside like garbage. Oh yeah, whore, you better look scared—you took my room, my man, my life. I owe you big time.” Alicia slurred the words, stumbling over them as she pushed her way through the crowd, seemingly oblivious to the cameras recording every word out of her deranged mouth. Her accent slipped, becoming rougher, more guttural the longer she ranted.

Jaime stepped in front of Cass, hoping to keep her out of the line of sight of the woman who, as he watched, reached into her handbag and pulled out a small handgun. “Alicia, be reasonable. You didn’t live in my house; you were just my cook. We weren’t in a relationship. And … and Cass has nothing to do with you. She…”

“Oh baby, we were so in love, right up until you went away to Paris with that … that
puta
. She tricked you into loving her, and when you came home, you didn’t even have the decency to break my heart in private. You paraded your whore under my nose saying she was your … what did you call her? Your Girl Friday. Yeah, that was it. I knew just as soon as my back was turned that you’d be screwing her.”

“You threw a sugar bowl at my head. I fired you, Alicia. There was never anything between us. I paid you to cook my meals.”

“It’s a pity I missed your head. But with this, I’m not going to miss. I sent those pictures as a warning. You didn’t take my warning, and now you and your slut are going to pay.”

Jaime didn’t think he took a step off the podium. He made eye contact with two of his men, who pushed through the reporters who were just standing there in stunned silence while this whole thing played out. He hit the ground running, just as Darnel Johnson hit her from behind.

Time seemed to play funny things with his head. He saw the gun flash just before it flew from her hands, the retort coming a second later. He stopped dead in his tracks. Darnel had the laughing woman on the ground, holding her, his eyes looking past Jaime, horror filling their dark depths.

Jaime spun in the air, taking two steps back to the podium only to stop again as Cass’s eyes met his. She stood there, shock clear on her face, her hand on her hip, and for a moment he felt relief wash over him. If it weren’t for the dark stain that oozed from between her fingers, marring the white of her skirt as it traced its way ever downward he would have thought she was fine. “
Pepper!
”

He didn’t know how he made it to her before her knees gave out. “Pepper. No, Pepper. No, baby. Stay with me, Pepper. Look at me … Cass. Cassandra, look at me.” She smiled, her eyes focused on him when she laid her hand on his cheek.

“I see you, Jaime. It’s all over, isn’t it?”

“No, baby. It’s not over. Cass, Pepper, don’t … I need help here. Cass, baby. Stay with me, Cass.”

“I love you, Jaime.” Her smile turned wan, her eyes unfocused.

“I love you, Cass. Cass!” A pair of large arms locked around his chest, lifting him away from her just as her eyes closed. “Let me go. Cass!”

“
Cass. Pepper.
Oh my God, what have I done?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Alicia Gonzalez died in a car accident in Texas five years ago.” Detective Ryan sat down beside him in the waiting room, his voice grim.

“So who the hell was that woman who almost killed Pepper?” Jaime glanced out the window at the setting sun as he bounced his legs, his hands balled into fists he couldn’t seem to unclench.

“Her name is Yolanda Gray. She’s thirty-five years old and from New Jersey. She’s wanted in New Jersey and New York for multiple counts of fraud and identity theft among other things. She assumed Alicia Gonzalez’s identity nearly four years ago. The temp agency that sent her to you is scrambling to find out how she slipped through their vetting process. And hoping like hell that you don’t sue them.” Ryan spoke softly, but every eye in the room was focused on them. “And that’s not the worst of it.”

“How can there be anything worse? Some delusional lunatic tried to kill Pepper. I want her buried. I want her head on a pike. I want…”

“Just listen, Jay. We are doing everything we can, but right now, it is starting to look like she really is a lunatic and is trying for an insanity plea. But Jay, the woman’s crimes against you and Pepper go much deeper than just the picture scam.”

“What do you mean? What else could she have possibly done?”

“She’s been living in your house for years. When you were gone, she lived there openly, coming and going as if she owned the place. When you were in residence, she parked down the street and slipped in through the back gate, climbed the trellis to the bedroom you and Cass share. She was sleeping in the house with you, and you never knew. After you fired her and changed the security codes, she found another way in. She’s been in the house with you and Cass. She’s been there alone with Cass. She could have hurt her at any time. And there are more pictures, some taken just a couple of days ago, out by the pool.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cass kept talking about things out of order. Paint cans moved around, the kitchen rearranged. I didn’t listen to her. I thought she was just looking for something to argue about. Alicia or whatever her name is was messing with her. Shit. Fuck. What else? There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Cam Cameron opened his books to us. He didn’t want to. We had to get a warrant to search your financials through Cameron’s firm. Yolanda has been slowly cleaning you out. She stole a set of checks and opened a credit card in your name. She convinced Cameron that she was your fiancée and that you gave her access to the account. He didn’t bat an eye until you called him ready to kick his ass. He’s been hiding since then.”

“There was nearly two million dollars in that account. She couldn’t have gotten it all in a couple of months.”

“She wrote elaborate checks to her multiple identities. Fifty thousand here. A hundred there. Oh and congratulations, it seems you own the house next door now as well. She paid a million for it, so you got it for a steal. She bought it the week after you fired her. She was very adept at acting as your legal representative, had the law lingo down pat. She can sign your name better than you can.”

At this point Jaime was beyond caring; he just hitched his shoulders. “Should I press charges against Cameron? How much can be recouped at this point?”

“That’s entirely up to you. She duped him and he’s ashamed, that’s for sure. At this point, whatever property you can prove she bought with your money is about all you’re going to get back. The house is already in your name. I think the car could be proven. An unemployed woman buying a car with cash, it shouldn’t be that hard. Anything from the credit card. Cameron will have those bills. After that, it’s going to be up to a judge. Look, man, I know right now that you aren’t really processing all this. I’ll just tell you that we have her on so many charges that she will never get out of prison. Trespassing, theft, fraud, stalking, harassment, attempted murder…”