Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit

by Paul T. Goldman

  Placing my hand gently on the back of her neck, I leaned in to kiss her. Her mouth tasted of wine and toothpaste, and her lips were drier than I remembered. After a moment, however, the kiss deepened and I lifted my other hand to slowly trace the outline of her hip, and her waist. My arms encircled her as I pressed our bodies together, while her own arms remained hanging and uninvolved. Determined to engage her, I slowly let a finger travel up her side, exploring her gentle curves, which led me to her full breast, which I began to stroke slowly.

  “Did you miss this?” I whispered, hoping she had as much as I did.

  “Yes,” was all she confessed, but that was also all I needed to hear. I gently urged her over to the bed so I could move onto other places. Six months of memories of lovemaking were finally replaced by the real thing.

  Afterwards, we lay side by side on the bed with only our arms touching. Exhausted and giddy, I whispered in her ear, “Honey, from now on, every night together will be like this.” Without so much as a pause to let me imagine the possibility of it, Audrey laid down the law.

  “No, no, Paul, we’re going to set the alarm for 5:45 and you’ll get fifteen minutes. That’s our new beginning.” Well, it wasn't perfect, I thought, but at least it was a start. I set the alarm for 5:45, and soon exhaustion overcame me and I fell asleep.

  At precisely 5:45. the alarm rang. I turned it off, and tenderly reached for Audrey. She pushed my hand away. “What are you doing, Paul?” she asked, still groggy.

  “Honey, it's 5:45,” I replied expectantly.

  “No, Paul. What the hell's the matter with you. We had sex last night. That makes up for this morning. Go back to sleep.”

  I could see her point, and I did. I reawoke a few hours later, and shuffled downstairs to prepare a breakfast for my prodigal wife. I was disappointed to find that she and Johnny had already eaten. I made myself a cup of coffee, and was immediately approached by Audrey who presented me with a piece of paper.

  “Paul, I printed out the names and addresses for your checks for the health insurance and the student loan. Will you send them today?” she asked, without so much as a smile or good morning. Still feeling groggy, I rubbed my eyes before peering down at the document.

  “I’ll check the bank account. I’ll see what I can do, honey” I said, with a yawn.

  “Please do, Paul. I get a call from these people every day about the student loan. They’re threatening to put a lien on the house,” she said. Her tone was serious and she had not moved. Without the aid of caffeine, I was still a little cloudy.

  “Wait a minute. That can’t be legal,” I considered aloud. “How can they do that? Your name is on the student loan, but not on this house. Only my name's on this house.”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, finally turning away. “That’s what they told me.”

  “That’s just strange. Why don’t you just give me their number?”

  “I don’t have it,” her back was now turned to me as she began to wash the breakfast dishes.

  “Well, next time they call, ask them to talk to me. I want to speak with them.”

  “Sure, Paul,” she said, just above the loud clang of the frying pan. I dropped the matter, picked up my coffee and headed back upstairs to get ready for work. I may have given myself the night off from worrying about my business, but now there was business to be done. I was heading down to Boynton within the hour, leaving Audrey to move the rest of her things back in the house.

  During the separation from Audrey, it didn't really matter in which house Johnny and I lived, so we stayed in Boynton. I enjoyed its spaciousness, and we both loved working in the garden. It was still for sale, or for rent, and if either had come through, we would have moved permanently to Jupiter Lakes. However, despite lowering both the rental and selling price several times, neither a buyer nor a renter materialized. With the slowdown in my business, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to own three houses. Now that Audrey was back, in the coming days I would be moving my files and computer to Jupiter Lakes.

  The day dragged by with no hope of new projects, so I decided to call Jupiter Lakes and enjoy the comfort of knowing someone would be awaiting my call on the other end.

  “Hi honey. How’s it going?” I asked, eager for some distraction.

  “Oh, it’s going,” she said breathlessly, as a radio blared in the background. “I’ve just been finishing with the last of the laundry.”

  “That’s great. I wish I could be there to help. I miss you already,” I said, wishing I was home with her.

  “Me too,” she responded flatly, before moving on to more important things. “Did you get a chance to mail out either of those checks?” Here we go again with the checks, I thought. Her persistence was not the response I was looking for.

  “I sent Florida Health the check for your health insurance. I don’t have the money for your student loan yet,” I said, as I checked my email.

  “You made the check out to FLHC, right?” she asked, turning down the radio as she spoke.

  “Yes, honey, just like you wrote on the paper.”

  “Great. Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you later,” she quickly added, preparing to hang up the phone.

  “Wait. Hold on. Did you get a chance to fire your lawyer? I informed mine of our arrangement and that is all taken care of.” Peter had actually seemed amused when I told him what we had agreed to at Dr. Tanner’s. He told me to keep his number if I ever needed any legal advice in the future. I thanked him for his time and he wished me good luck as we hung up. It was a nice sentiment, though I thought I sensed some sarcasm in his voice.

  “Oh, I’ve been so busy, Paul. I’ll get to it when I can.” Busy? I realized she had a few suitcases and some small boxes to take care of, but how hard was it to take a minute to give a lawyer a phone call? It wasn’t only that she hadn’t done something she promised, her failure to do so disrespected our new beginning. I told myself to let it go; we had to keep moving forward. When I returned home that evening, I asked her again if she had called her lawyer. This time Audrey said she had, but was only able to leave messages.

  The next two weeks passed, and I adjusted to life of a full-time husband with a daily 5:45 wake-up call. Though I couldn’t complain about the frequency, our time together lacked emotional intimacy, making me feel like I was collecting daily rent rather than deepening an emotional bond with my wife. There was no anticipation since it was the first order of the day; nor was there any creativity or excitement involved. For lack of a better term, I was simply being serviced and then sent along to go about my day. I was, however, happy to have Audrey back and our children were excited about living together as a family. We were moving in the right direction and every day felt like an experiment in better understanding one another. One thing I couldn’t understand, however, was why Audrey still hadn’t fired her lawyer.

  A few days later, I asked Audrey again, “Honey, did you hear back from your lawyer yet?”

  “I guess he’s been so busy he hasn’t gotten the message, honey. I’ll call and remind him again,” Audrey explained, not really showing any concern.

  “Thanks, honey. I hate to keep nagging you about this, but I guess it'll finally make me feel like we’ll be together forever, you know?” I explained, hoping I would inspire her to follow up.

  “Of course we’re going to be together forever,” she said, while reading her magazine. While she casually flipped the pages, never averting her eyes from her reading, she said blandly, “Like I told you lots of times, this is my forever marriage.”

  One week later, I got a call from my own lawyer, Peter, telling me he had yet to receive the paperwork from Audrey’s lawyer so that he could dismiss the case. I told him I would look into it and I felt my irritation turn to anger. I slammed the phone, and immediately picked it back up again to call Audrey. No answer at home, so I called her cell, which she finally answered on the fourth ring. “Honey, I just called the house, and there was no answer. Are you at home?�
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  “Of course, I'm home. Where else would I be?”

  “I don't know. Anyway, I just spoke with my lawyer, and he tells me your lawyer hasn't dismissed the case yet. What's going on?”

  “Oh, well, I just talked to him and he said he won’t dismiss until I give him money, Paul.”

  “Money? He would not have represented you if you hadn’t already paid a retainer. What money could you possibly still owe him?” My words were measured as I tried to stay calm. We had made it almost a month without any argument and I didn’t want to break our peace because of a divorce lawyer.

  “I don’t know. That’s what he told me.” I knew Audrey well enough to know she was not this dim. She knew more than she was telling, but I couldn’t figure out what that might be. I knew I needed to confront her, but, reflecting on the outcome of the parking lot fiasco, I also knew I had to pick the right time and approach. Not knowing what that might be, I began to think of what I might say when I was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I said a quick good-bye to Audrey.

  “A-1 Painting Service, may I help you?” I asked, moving seamlessly from one compartment of my life to the other.

  “Hi, yeah, my name is Jose and I’m the foreman for the builder of the Lakeside Condominium Project. Your painters are threatening to quit. They tell me they haven’t been paid in a month.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked incredulously. My concerns over Audrey were promptly replaced by new concerns, concerns I had not at all anticipated. I reached across my desk and began to thumb through the files in my top cabinet. Locating the file for Lakeside, I quickly scanned my invoices and payroll and found what I already knew to be true.

  “That’s wrong. I paid them last week,” I contended. Lakeside was a huge, sixty unit condo building and was also our largest account. There is no way that payment would have been overlooked, and it wasn’t. “According to my records, the building should be pretty much complete. All that should be left are final touch-ups.”

  “Uh, yeah, you better get down here,” Jose suggested, not at all sounding convinced.

  “I’m on my way,” I replied. I hopped in my car and sped to the site. This all had to be a big misunderstanding, but even a misunderstanding could signal trouble for an already struggling business. Reputation was everything in our line of work, and with an anemic market, we couldn’t afford to make mistakes. On the way, I called Daniel to find out what I could from him, but I ended up leaving multiple messages and getting no answers.

  When I pulled up at the building, I was immediately confronted by a dozen painters standing idly out front. Their white Dickies served as a stark contrast to their dark expressions, my first signal that what Jose had told me was, in fact, true. I got out of my car, and walked slowly up to the foreman, both of us hoping the other had an explanation.

  But there were none.

  And then there was one.

  Though it took a few days, the truth emerged, as the truth always does. It seems Daniel had taken the money for the painters, and paid them about a quarter of what they were due, while making up stories of future payments to keep them working. After four weeks of pocketing the majority of their pay, Daniel and his girlfriend Maria had enough money to split town, which they did, leaving his wife Lana and their baby daughter to fend for themselves.

  My first thought was to chase Daniel down and turn him in to the cops, but before that I needed to fulfill my obligations. So, I used everything I had to pay the painters their back wages and complete the building. This setback proved financially fatal, and my business went under. While rumors eventually came my way that Daniel had resurfaced on the beaches of Venezuela, I was forced to try to rent out my California home as well as the Boynton home just to make payments at Jupiter Lakes.

  When all was said and done, I lost a business, a trusted friend, and the security I worked so hard to establish for myself and my family. I hoped to work the business for ten years and save enough money to send Johnny to college and retire. Instead, the company lasted less than two years, and the best man at my wedding had gotten the best of me. I had no choice but to seek comfort in the love of my family, with a wife who for some unexplainable reason still retained a divorce lawyer.

  Regardless of that little annoyance, I hunkered down with Audrey, believing that things couldn’t get much worse.

  But they did get worse. A lot worse.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FLHC and a Trailer

  There is no singular event more transforming in a man’s life than when he becomes a father. No longer living for himself, everything of importance the father does and says is either done for his child, because of his child, or in the interest of showing his child how to live a life of integrity. At least it should be. As I sat in the cooling shade of our backyard, I began to reflect on the choices I had made and the legacy I would leave to my son. Unaware of his father’s ruminations, Johnny spent his own time quietly turning over dirt pile upon dirt pile in search of the world’s biggest bug. I smiled while I watched him work, his brown curls hanging loosely around his face, his brows furrowed and his lips pursed in determination.

  With the recent betrayal by Daniel, the failure of my business, and amidst a second struggling marriage, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow let Johnny down. There was certainly a lot to be proud of, but at this particular point in my life, all I could think about were the people who had used me. Talia, Daniel, and even Audrey had or were using me as a means to an end. I felt foolish and adrift, and I knew that any reversal of fortune would have to come from me. The sound of a chirping bird passing by interrupted my thoughts, and my eyes followed Johnny’s as he looked up, curious and imagining. It was at that moment that I determined I would never again be anyone’s fool. That was a promise I made to myself, and to my son.

  “Yes!” Johnny cheered to himself, using his dirt embedded fingertips to uncover a giant palmetto bug. “Daddy, look!” he said, holding the captured insect, now wriggling to free itself. Johnny’s face beamed and he used the back of his free hand to wipe his face, leaving a smear of dirt trailing across his cheek. I nodded, and laughed to myself thinking: the dirtier the boy, the better his day. I walked over to Johnny, closely inspected his discovery, and patted him on the back warmly.

  “Wow. This is one for the record books,” I observed. Johnny nodded in earnest agreement. While we laid the palmetto down on a piece of stray palm, I heard the sound of the sliding glass door open slowly behind us, followed by the flapping of flip flops. Turning my head, I saw Audrey approaching with her cell phone held tight to her ear and her other hand on her hip.

  “Paul, can I talk to you for a second,” she said, holding her palm over her phone.

  “Be right back, buddy. We’re not done with this guy,” I promised, and Johnny again nodded, though this time his eyes were locked on Audrey.

  “What is it, honey?” I asked and slowly got up, wiping the light dirt stains from my own knees, while Audrey ended her phone call.

  “I need another check for health insurance,” she said, looking down at my pants with a scowl.

  “Another check?” I asked, looking up at her. “What for?”

  “I need to have some female tests done and they’re not covered. I need a check for $1,300.50, made out to FLHC again, and sent to the same address as before.”

  “Sure, honey,” I said evenly, returning my gaze to Johnny who was now building a little custom home for the palmetto bug.

  “Thanks,” she said and flipped open her phone and spun away, the sound of her flip flops following her back into the house. I returned to Johnny's side and crouched down beside him, watching him work diligently while I rubbed my chin.

  Keeping my silent promise to Johnny, I decided it was time to really look at my wife. I know that some of my choices concerning our relationship may have been foolish, but I was not born yesterday. There had been times throughout my life when I had to buy my own health insurance policies, and no
matter what type of coverage I had, tests were always included. Even though I had doubts about Audrey's explanation of why she needed more money, I did write the check, but this time I wrote it out to Florida Health Company and mailed it out that Friday.

  The next day, Saturday, I was having lunch with the kids when Audrey returned from the grocery store with her arms full of bags and her face full of annoyance. When I stood up to help unload the groceries, Audrey let out a sigh and pulled open the fridge.

  “Paul, I just heard from the insurance company and they won't process your check.” Audrey began to shelve the perishables in the refrigerator, and I opened the pantry door, while balancing an armful of snacks.

  “What do you mean they won’t process the check? I just mailed it yesterday. How would they have gotten it and put it through underwriting in such a short time? Besides, it’s Saturday,” I responded, curious to hear how she would explain it all, my skepticism confirmed.

  “I don’t know. That’s what they told me.” Her back was still turned to me while she organized the milk, the butter, the cheese, and the eggs. “They can’t process the check because it has to be made out to FLHC.”

  “That’s impossible. You’re telling me that Florida Health Company will not accept a check made out to Florida Health Company?” I was now certain Audrey was lying, though I had no idea why or what she was up to.

  “I’m telling you what they said.”

  “Tell them to send me back my check. I’m not going to have two checks floating around out there,” I instructed, wishing I could see her face.

  “Fine.” She slammed the refrigerator door and walked out of the room, never once turning to face me. I was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by bags of partially unpacked groceries, beginning to realize the reality of my future with Audrey.

  Aside from a few passing words, Audrey and I didn’t speak much for the rest of the day. We moved about the house like ships passing in the night. I was determined to pursue my questions about her insurance, and hoped my suspicions were wrong. If they were, which I doubted, then that would once again open the doors to communication.