Misconception

by Christy Hayes

  He heard her jog up the stairs giggling as he answered the phone in the kitchen.

  “Just the man I was looking for.”

  The nasally sound of Frank DeAngelo’s voice was the last thing Jason expected to hear on the other end of the line. “DeAngelo?” He glanced behind him toward the empty staircase. “I thought I asked you not to call me at home.”

  “No choice, Mr. Kelly. I need to speak with you about something important.”

  Jason positioned his body so he stood by the kitchen pantry door, the only spot where he had a clear view of the stairs and into the den where the boys still sat in front of the television. He peeked up the stairs, relieved to find no sign of Pace. She’d probably gotten naked by now. “I got your email and I’ve authorized payment. Was there a problem with the card?”

  He coughed into the receiver and Jason pulled the phone away from his ear. “Card’s fine, but there is a problem. It’s about the fee. I’m afraid it’s going to be a little more than we discussed. Well,” he said with a chuckle, “quite a bit more.”

  “You’ve already sent the invoice. How can the fee be more than we discussed?”

  “I’ve got some more pictures. You’re going to want to see them, but you’re going to have to pay for them first.”

  “More pictures? Why didn’t you send them with the invoice?” Why was Jason treating this like a business transaction gone wrong? More pictures meant more evidence against Pace. “What’s in the pictures?”

  “Like I said, Kelly. You pay first.”

  Shit. He’d figured out how to hide the three grand, but more… “How much?”

  “I’d say they’re worth at least fifty.”

  “Fifty thousand?” Jason rechecked the stairwell for Pace after almost screaming into the phone. “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Figure I could get more on the open market. Your choice.”

  Mitchell came into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to graze. “What are you talking about?” Mitchell handed Jason a Gogurt and he opened it with his teeth, smiled, and ushered him back into the den. Neither one of them remembered he wasn’t allowed to eat out there. “What open market?”

  “You didn’t tell me who I was following. Your wife’s Senator Whitfield’s daughter. I almost didn’t catch it at first, but I sure am glad I went out on a limb after their fancy lunch at the Ritz.”

  “I’m not paying you fifty thousand for something I haven’t seen.”

  “I’ll give you a preview, but it has to be in person. And you’d better bring the cash.”

  “When?”

  “Three o’clock. There’s a diner on the corner of Cypress Street and Sixth.”

  “Today?” Jason wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t get fifty thousand dollars in cash today.”

  “Hey, I’m giving you three hours to figure it out. So figure it out. Three o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  He gave Pace a lame excuse about a work emergency and made it to the bank two minutes before they closed. He was willing to beg, borrow, or steal the money, but on the way to the bank he remembered the escrow check from the Belton farmer he’d deposited just a week and a half ago. Fate, certainly a cruel twist of it, seemed to have a hand in the twenty-five thousand dollar cashiers check sitting on the dash of his car as he pulled into the dump on the corner of Cypress and Sixth. It wasn’t enough, but hopefully DeAngelo would accept it as down payment or a good faith investment until he closed on the land at the end of the month. Jason prayed it would work because it was all he could get.

  DeAngelo sat alone in a booth near the back of the diner along a filthy stretch of wood paneling that looked like it had come right out of a 1970’s basement. He acknowledged his approach by sitting up and slinging an arm along the red vinyl back. “You’re punctual.”

  Jason slid into the seat across from him. “Where are the pictures?”

  DeAngelo’s eyes darted to the lone waitress, picking at her nails behind the counter and flirting with a customer who resembled a gang member. “Show me the cash.”

  Jason pulled the envelope with the cashier’s check from his back pocket and slid it across the table, but didn’t let go when DeAngelo tried to yank it from his grasp. “The pictures.”

  The detective cocked his head and pulled a letter size envelope from the inside pocket of his coat. “These are just a preview.” Jason snatched it from his hand and pushed the cashier’s check out of DeAngelo’s reach. “And they’re copies.”

  Jason’s hands were shaking as he removed the black and white photographs of what he assumed were Pace and Trey from the envelope.

  Shock. That was the first emotion he registered when he was able to think at all. DeAngelo must have gone for the shock factor when he decided to place the particular photo on top of the stack. It took a moment to recognize Colin’s naked ass thrusting into someone who was definitely not his wife. He flipped through the rest quickly, just to be sure there weren’t any of Pace and felt both relieved and disgusted to realize they were all of his father-in-law.

  “You think I’m going to pay fifty grand for this?” He shoved the pictures back into the envelope and flung them across the table.

  “Aren’t you?” DeAngelo seemed almost cocky as he carefully folded the envelope and placed it back in his pocket. He linked his fingers together on the tabletop.

  “Those are disturbing, DeAngelo, but they don’t concern me.”

  His brows shot up. “Your father-in-law is banging some cheap whore and it doesn’t concern you?” He laughed and for some reason Jason noticed his perfect teeth. They must have been capped. “I’m sure your wife would be very interested in these pictures. I’m sure the senator’s wife and his constituents would be very interested in these pictures. Oh, wait a minute.” He held a hand mockingly over his mouth. “I’ll bet the press would be interested in these, too.”

  Jason sat back and stared at the sleazy private detective who’d found his wife innocent and who’d condemned him to hell. He was right, of course he was right. While Jason personally didn’t give a damn that his father-in-law, chairman of the congressional ethics committee, had the morals of a horny teenager, Pace sure as hell did. And so did his kids. And so did Tori. Fuck.

  “I want all copies and originals, including your camera’s memory card.” DeAngelo nodded without a second thought and Jason knew he was getting played. But what the hell else was he supposed to do?

  “Hand over the check.”

  Jason released it from his grip and saw he’d smeared the ink on the bank’s logo.

  “This is only twenty-five,” DeAngelo said under his breath. “I said fifty.”

  It’s also my future. “It’s all I could get my hands on with such short notice. I’ll have the rest in a few weeks.”

  “Weeks?” DeAngelo laughed and tapped the check against his open palm. “I’ve already asked around, kid. I could get twice what I’m asking you. If you don’t have the cash, the deal’s off.”

  Panic, swift and sharp as a knife blade, filled his gut and had Jason grabbing DeAngelo by the sleeve of his coat as he pushed his considerable girth from the booth. “Wait a minute. Just wait a damn minute.”

  “I don’t have a minute.” DeAngelo yanked his arm free and straightened his coat. “And I sure as hell don’t have weeks.” He threw the check onto the table and a five dollar bill for the cup of coffee he hadn’t touched and sauntered to the door with surprising speed for someone his size. How in the hell did he blend in with a crowd? Jason wondered as he watched him get into his late model sedan and pull out into traffic.

  The waitress, ready to collect her money, came up to the table. “What can I get for you, honey?” She swiped the five and the cup in one swoop.

  A do over, Jason wanted to say.

  A big fat mulligan.

  Jason felt dirty as he drove to the Whitfield estate, like the detective’s sleaze had smeared all over him, on his hands, under his fingerna
ils, like even if he’d tried to pretend he didn’t know what was coming, there’d be no way to hide the truth. He had to warn Colin, but the thought of admitting what he’d done—to Pace and inadvertently to her father—made Jason nauseous. He felt like he’d played a part the Whitfields had created for him years ago: total fuck-up and good-for-nothing son-in-law. It may have taken sixteen years to shine in his role, but he sure as hell outdid himself.

  The house looked as it always did, perfectly manicured in the late afternoon sun. There sat the trellis he’d tried to climb up to get to Pace’s room one night and had almost killed himself. He never admitted to her he’d tried to sneak in, but failed, even after she’d questioned him about all the scratches he’d gotten from the rose bushes. Seemed like a pattern, him trying to be her knight in shining armor and never quite making the grade. This time there wasn’t anywhere to hide and no way to lie about his mistakes. Facing the music wouldn’t be so painful if he didn’t know the Whitfields had been waiting for him to fall short all these years.

  He was surprised when Tori answered the door in a fancy jogging suit and reading glasses. She pulled them off and let them hang at her chest by a jeweled chain. “Jason? Were we expecting you?”

  “No, Tori. I’m sorry for interrupting.” More sorry than she would ever know.

  She let him in the foyer and, after shutting the door, turned to face him. “You’re not interrupting.”

  “Is Colin around?”

  She glanced over his shoulder just as Jason heard Colin’s loafers on the polished marble floor. “Jason.” Colin heartily slapped his shoulder. “This is a surprise.”

  He had no idea. Jason returned his handshake. “If you’ve got a minute, Colin, I’d like to speak to you.”

  He eyed his wife inquisitively and winked at Jason like the politician he was. “Sure, sure, always have time for you.” He led him into the study and, as if he knew Jason would like some privacy, shut the double pocket doors behind him. The study had always intimidated him, with Colin’s law books lining the walls and the dark country club furniture. Jason felt like a caddy who’d been summoned for a scolding. Colin took a seat in one of the Chippendale chairs by the fireplace and looked up at Jason quizzically. “What can I do for you?”

  He was sweating even though they kept the house cold, so cold Colin wore a sweater with his perfectly pressed slacks. Jason felt ridiculously casual in his jeans and ratty t-shirt. He ran both of his hands through his hair and blew a breath out of his mouth. Because he couldn’t sit still—and hadn’t been offered a seat—he began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace where he could spill the ugly truth without having to look Colin in the eye.

  “I hired a private detective to follow Pace while I was out-of-town last week. He took some pictures of you at the Ritz after you’d had lunch with Pace. Some…” Christ, how did he say this? “…damaging pictures. He asked me to pay him fifty thousand for them, but I could only come up with twenty-five. He said he could get more elsewhere. He called it the open market. I thought you needed to know.”

  Colin sat as still as a statue in the chair, his fingers laced together over his crossed legs, staring at Jason as if he’d just sung the national anthem slightly out of key. Colin said nothing, his expression gave nothing away. He finally stood up and walked over to the desk in the corner. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and after a moment said into the receiver, “I need you here. Now. There’s a situation.” He paused, said, “Fine,” and hung up the phone. He sighed and turned to look Jason in the eye.

  Now Jason could see the rage on his face under the veil of his normally affable expression. There was a vein pulsing on his forehead and his fists were clenched at his sides. “What were you thinking having Pace followed? Do you really think my little girl deserves to be stalked around town like some kind of cheap whore?”

  It was everything he expected to hear and yet it still stung. “Colin…”

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you have any idea what kind of effect this will have on my campaign?”

  It took him a few seconds to realize he’d said campaign and not marriage. Silly, naive Jason, he thought Colin would have worried about his marriage.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t want to have to tell you. I didn’t want my mistake to turn into your problem.”

  “You.” He pointed his manicured finger in Jason’s face. “You’ve never understood your role in this family. You’ve never understood what you signed on for when you married Pace.”

  He was so sick of hearing about the responsibility of being a part of the Whitfield family. “With all due respect, Senator, I married Pace, not you and your wife.”

  “One and the same.”

  He snorted his disagreement and was about to argue his case when Trey burst through the doors and shut them before turning around to sneer at Jason. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse.

  “I should have known.” Trey panted breathlessly and his normally perfect hair looked tussled.

  “Do you live here now?” Jason asked.

  Colin moved to stand between them and focused his attention on Trey. “Jason hired a private detective. He’s got pictures of me and a woman.”

  Jason almost enjoyed the look of shock on Trey’s face. Almost.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Look,” Jason leaned over Colin’s shoulder, “I’m not answering to you, you son of a bitch.”

  His pale cheeks turned red with anger. “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.”

  Colin held his hands up between them. “Just calm down, both of you.” He kept a hand to Jason’s chest and looked at Trey. “What do we need to do?”

  Trey flicked his hair from his eyes and looked at Jason like he’d just keyed his car. “Who’s the detective?”

  “Frank DeAngelo. He wants fifty grand for the pictures.”

  “Did you see the pictures or did he just tell you he had them?”

  Jason cast a quick glance at Colin. He was afraid he’d never be able to forget. “I saw them.”

  “Fuck.” Trey paced toward the window and turned back with a jerk. “Did you refuse to pay?”

  “I didn’t have enough and he said he could get twice as much on the open market.”

  Trey slapped his face with both hands. “You are such a fucking idiot, Kelly. Dammit!” He pounded his fist into the desk and reached for a notepad. “Give me all the information on DeAngelo. Phone numbers, email, everything.”

  Jason pulled out his blackberry, flipped through his contacts, and wrote down everything he knew. He pushed the pad toward Trey.

  “What were you hoping to gain by having Colin followed?”

  Colin sniffed at Jason before he answered, “He had Pace followed. I’m just a side benefit.”

  “Pace?” Trey laughed mockingly. “You had Pace followed?” He shook his head and smirked. “I always knew you were trouble. I always knew you’d bring her down, but this… Colin’s got real competition for the first time in years. This could blow us out of the water and implode the whole campaign.” He glided over to stand in front of Jason, hands on his hips. Jason would have known by the smell of him—the cut grass and sweat smell—that he’d been on the golf course even if he weren’t wearing ridiculous madras pants and a bright green golf shirt. What in the hell had Pace ever seen in this asshole? “You’d better hope I can head this off, but know this much; you’re going to pay for your stupidity, Kelly. I’ll see to it you do.”

  Colin took a seat in the chair and steepled his fingers. “Keep me abreast of whatever you find out.” He dismissed Trey with the flick of his eyes and Trey disappeared through the door.

  “Colin, I never meant for this to happen. If I’d known…”

  Colin silenced Jason with a steely look that betrayed his casual posture. “I’ve put up with your less than stellar attitude towards this family for the sake of my daughter’s happiness. But now my little girl is unhappy and that alone
is reason enough for me to be upset with you. When you throw in the detective…” He shook his head. “I’m taking off the kid gloves, Jason. Trey’s not the only one with an ax to grind now. If I go down, you go down.”

  * * *

  “What in the world was that all about?” Tori asked Colin when he finally reemerged from his study after hours on the phone.

  “Nothing. Just some snafu with a press release.”

  “What does Jason have to do with a press release?”

  Colin seemed startled, like he’d forgotten about Jason’s visit and Trey’s abrupt entry and exit. He made a beeline to the bar in the den.

  “He needed a favor. Some zoning variance he’s having trouble with.” He waved his hand in front of his face and took a gulp of scotch. “I told him I’d make some calls.”

  Tori watched him refill his glass and take another sip. “It’s a little early for cocktails.”

  “Not after the week I’ve had.” Colin paced to the windows and turned around in a fury. “That damn Stan Michaels. He’s never been more than a county commissioner and he’s mounting a full fledged run for my seat. My seat. This country is at a turning point and the last thing we need in the Senate is a wet behind the ears upstart who wouldn’t know a real crisis if it bit him in the ass.”

  Something more than a snafu had lit his flame. She hadn’t seen him this upset in years. “Are you really that worried about losing your seat?”

  “Hell yes, I’m worried.” He slammed his drink on a side table and pumped his fist in the air. “People are tired of the status quo, no matter how hard I’ve fought for their interests. When is this country going to wake up and realize the problem isn’t the politicians, but the whole system—the same system that allows a person with no experience, no background, and not a lick of sense to vote on important legislation that shapes their lives? The man doesn’t even have a law degree! He couldn’t decipher a bill with a year and twenty Harvard aids to help him.”