by S. E. Lund
When he finally emerged from the office, his face told me everything.
"The video is live on the internet on some gossip website. They claim it's me, but I watched it and it's not. Not even close. The guy in the video has a pot belly, for God's sake..."
"What?" I said, frowning. "You've never had a pot belly. Not even close."
"I know," Drake said and came up behind me, sliding his arms around me for a hug. "It crushed me to think they'd even suggest it could be me."
I knew he was trying to make light of the situation, but his voice betrayed his true feelings. He was angry and upset.
"When are you going to meet with Lara?"
"Right away," he replied. "We're going to meet at her office. She's asked me to bring her lunch, so I'll eat with her and we can talk about the case while we do. She's meeting with a client at 2:00 so we have to be finished by then. I hope you don't mind..."
I turned around and slipped my arms around his neck. "Of course I don't mind. I know you have to meet with her to figure out how to deal with this. She's busy and you have to work a meeting in around her schedule. I can eat with Sophie. Then, I think the two of us will walk down to the corner store and get some fresh fruit for a fruit salad."
"Make sure you let Mike know," Drake said, reminding me about my bodyguard.
"How could I forget Mike?" I said, only slightly sourly. "My constant companion."
"It's for your protection," Drake chided. "You said yourself that you barely notice him now."
"I know," I said. "I'm being a spoiled brat about it. I just wish we didn't have to worry about it."
"One day soon, maybe we won't," Drake said and squeezed me. He kissed me on the lips and then let go, moving to where Sophie sat in her highchair and giving her another kiss.
He went to the closet to get his jacket and his boots, and then wrapped a scarf around his neck.
"See you soon," he said and waved at Sophie. "Try to enjoy your walk to the store. Pretend that Mike is just a big bear of a man and happens to live in the same neighborhood as you, is out for a walk and would help you if you needed it."
I smiled at Drake, for that described Mike perfectly -- a big bear of a man. A handsome bear, but still big and burly, his biceps bulging from under his jacket.
* * *
After Sophie and I finished our lunch, we took the stroller and went out to the street. Before I left, I texted Mike and he said he'd be waiting outside for me when I was ready to go for the walk.
Sure enough, he stood with his hands in his pockets, a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes, his blond brush cut and square jaw giving his identity as a former Navy SEAL away. I could almost see the bulge of his concealed weapon at his hip -- or at least, I imagined I could see it.
Strangely, it didn't comfort me the way I thought it would. I was almost killed by a car, not a weapon. I'd read recently about a woman who was stabbed in the gut while she was out walking her dog in the morning. She'd bled out before the ambulance even arrived because the knife blade severed an artery. The culprit walked towards her and at the last minute, slipped the knife out of his pocket, stabbing her and then walking on. When it happened, she was alone on the block in the section of Harlem, close to where I lived before. People had passed by, thinking she was a drunk, but her little dog stayed at her side the entire time. It made my heart squeeze to think of her dying all alone while people walked by. I didn't want that to be my end, but there was no way of knowing. The assailant was unknown to the woman. She was a target of opportunity and nothing more.
A convenient human to kill.
I tried to push the story out of my mind and took a deep cleansing breath, walking along the sidewalk to the grocers down the street. Mike walked behind me about twenty feet and I only noticed him when I stopped at one of the fruit stands outside the store. I glanced sideways and there he was, hands in his pockets, glancing away from me quickly.
I did my shopping and after I was finished, Sophie and I went back to the apartment, Mike in tow. I stopped at the entry and fumbled with my keys. Mike came up a few feet from where I stood.
"Having problems?" he asked softly.
"Just trying to do too much," I said and gave him a smile.
"Will you be going out again this afternoon?"
"No, I'll wait until Drake gets home if we go out again."
Mike nodded and stood with his hands folded in front of him.
"You're not going to stand guard outside the apartment, are you?" I asked.
"No, ma'am. I'm going to sit in the van you can see on the street. I'll keep watch until my shift's up at seven. If you change your mind about going out, let me know."
"I will," I said and finally managed to get the lock opened. Mike held the door for me and I went inside, checking the mail on my way. There was nothing but a couple of flyers but there was one letter that looked curious. I checked the postmark and it read from Wards Island, New York.
That was where Lisa was staying. She was transferred to the Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center on Wards Island. She'd attempted suicide and so had been removed to the Center and put on suicide watch.
She'd sent a letter addressed to both of us.
I swallowed hard and went up the stairs, Sophie in my arms, the stroller in the other hand.
Dammit.
The last thing we needed was a letter from her.
Drake
I asked John to stop at a deli on my way to meet with Lara so I could pick up a couple of corned beef sandwiches and drinks for our lunch. I offered to get him something but he already had a bagged lunch and held it up for me to see.
"No, Sir. I'm doing paleo so I have specific needs. No sandwiches for me. But thanks."
John parked close to the deli and on my way, I passed the spot where I almost lost Kate and had to stop. I remembered back to that day with a sense of dread, despite the fact that she survived and our baby, little Sophia, was delivered and was fine. Sophia thrived, in fact, and had done well, leaving the NICU even earlier than usual.
Still, that day was the result of mistakes on my part. I'd become involved with an unstable woman -- without my knowledge of course -- but she was still unstable. I failed to contact anyone early enough in the whole business to deal with it properly, and Lisa had gone off the deep end and tried to murder Kate to get her out of the way.
I was responsible. No doubt about it. I should have been more thorough in my vetting of Derek's submissive. I usually was, but I trusted that Derek had done his own due diligence. I trusted that Lisa was mature enough and mentally stable enough to know what she wanted when she signed that contract and NDA the nights we were together.
That was in the past, and there was nothing to be done about it except to try to be the very best husband and father that I could be. That was my goal every day of my life with Kate and Sophie -- and hopefully soon, Liam.
I wanted to be the very best father and husband. The best family man -- like Ethan.
I purchased the sandwiches and then John drove me the rest of the way to Lara's office, letting me off half a block from the entrance. My mind was so focused on the case that I almost ran into someone and had to apologize when the older man called out, "Hey! Watch where you're going, buster!"
I walked towards Lara's building and exhaled as I approached the entry. I had to get control over my emotions and not dwell on the case and trial. I was a bit player in it and would have my small role to play, providing testimony for the prosecution as they built their case that Lisa had planned and carried out the murder of Derek Richardson with the help of Jones, her submissive partner.
Then, she coerced him into killing himself -- probably threatening him and making him think that he'd end up in a prison for life, at the mercy of a bunch of prison sadists who wouldn't care about his wishes. From what I had read in the papers, and what Lara and I had discussed, Jones had been suffering with clinical depression for years and when the whole events with Derek transpired. When Jones was arre
sted, he spiraled back down. Lisa had worked her evil ways with him, and convinced him that he was going to be in hell if he was convicted.
She'd told him he might as well kill himself, according to Lara's contact in the prosecutor's offices.
Lisa was a horrible woman.
I sighed and entered the building, taking the elevator to Lara's floor, bag of food in hand. I greeted Chrystal, the woman who sat at the front desk, and she got up and led me down the hallway to Lara's office. Of course, I knew my way around the office, having visited countless times before, but I gave Chrystal a smile and let her lead me.
"I hope everything goes well for you at the trial, Dr. Morgan," she said as she took hold of Lara's doorknob for me while I balanced the tray of drinks and bag of food. "I think it's horrible what that woman tried to do to your wife and what she did to Derek."
"Thanks," I said. "I'm sure everything will turn out fine." She opened the door. "Did you know Derek?" I asked, stopping to look her in the eye.
"Yes," the young woman said, a blush rising on her cheeks. "We met at a party at his house. This was after Lisa and he ended their relationship. It's very terrible what happened."
"It is. Thank you for the help," I said and went inside. She nodded and closed the door.
Lara was seated behind her desk, on the phone of course. She pointed to the side of the room where a sofa and two chairs were positioned around a small coffee table. I went over and placed the drinks and food down and removed my jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair. I sat and waited while Lara finished the call, trying hard not to listen in. She did most of the listening so I didn't hear much, and besides it was at the end of the discussion.
She hung up and came over.
"There you are," she said and bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek, before sitting across from me. She reached out to take a drink and one of the sandwiches, which I had laid out on the table. "I'm starving. What did you get for us?"
"Corned beef from a little deli around my place. I know you love it."
"I do," she said and placed a napkin on her lap before lifting the sandwich to her mouth, smiling.
We ate our food and talked of nothing serious for a while. I told her about Sophie's latest antics and she told me about her plans to go on a cruise in the Caribbean in January.
Finally, both of us were done with our food and we sat back. She wiped her mouth carefully, giving me the once-over.
"So, tell me how you're really doing," she said and took a final drink from her cup. "I'm sure this must be really stressful."
"I'm fine," I said. "Just feel bad that all this is happening. It shouldn't have if I did my work and vetted Lisa better before I became involved."
"Don't," Lara said and pointed at me. "You can't control someone else's mental illness. She's suffering from erotomania combined with borderline personality disorder and probably, sociopathy. That's a powerful combination. She didn't even have to have sex with you for it to happen. I've read of cases where the person merely met the object of their obsession and built a whole fantasy world completely without even exchanging a word with them. Once you met her and she latched onto you, that was it. It was only a matter of time."
"The thing that gets me is that in the year between when I stopped seeing her and I met Kate, she'd been concocting this whole plan to get involved with me."
"She must have been livid when you met Kate. People like her go way overboard, imaging that the relationship exists despite the fact that nothing happened. Or in your case, nothing more than sex happened."
"We barely said two words to each other outside of scene," I said. "You know what it's like."
"I do. I had no idea she was sick."
A knock came at the door and Lara called out. "Come," she said.
Chrystal entered and came over, handing Lara a small envelope. "Here it is."
"Thanks," Lara said. "You can go now. Don't forget to put in for half a day."
"Thanks," Chrystal said. "I will."
Then she left.
"Give me a moment," Lara said and held up the envelope. "I have to check this out."
"Go ahead," I said and waved at her. I sat for a moment in silence, while Lara went back to her desk, removed something -- a flash drive -- from the envelope, and appeared to plug it into her computer. She clicked on her mouse and watched for a moment and I heard some sounds that sounded muffled.
"Come and take a look," she said and waved me over.
"What is it?" I asked and went to her side. She leaned over her desk, watching a video on a small screen. I glanced at it, standing behind her. From where I stood, it looked like pornography, except the woman was wrapped up in rope. It was a bondage scene. I recognized it immediately.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"It is," she said and stepped out of the way so I could see better. "The full video. I had a friend in the prosecutor's office make a copy and smuggle it out so we could see it and discuss."
"That's supposed to be me?" I said and watched as a man, naked except for a leather jock strap, wrapped ropes roughly around the woman's hands, before hooking them up to a winch on the ceiling. The camera swung around to show the young woman, who was clearly Lisa. While we watched, the man began to strike Lisa, slapping her across the face. Then, he took a riding crop and began to slap her breasts with it, laying a dozen smacks across one and then the other.
"That's clearly not me," I said, and turned to Lara. "I would never do that. Not at that point. I'd already decided several years earlier that I didn't like inflicting pain on my submissives, which was one reason the three of us didn't work out. She's with someone else in this video. That's clearly not me. I don't have that much hair on my chest and back. I never wore a leather jockstrap."
"I know," Lara said. "The problem is that you don't ever see his face. You see some dark hair and a dark beard, but there isn't a single camera angle that reveals the guy's face. It's impossible to prove it's you – or prove it's not you."
"Is there a time stamp on the video?"
We looked more closely, and down at the bottom corner was a time and date. It fit with the time I had met with Derek and Lisa. A year before I met Kate.
"I don't know what we can do to prove that's not you, except check what you were doing that day. I suspect that Lisa already figured out that you'd have no alibi for that date or there's no way they'd release that if we could prove you weren't there."
"Great," I said. "Why are they doing this?"
"To deflect guilt from her onto you and Derek."
The video ended, and so I went back to her small seating area and flopped down, rubbing my forehead.
"What's our strategy?"
"Let's check that day in your Daytimer. I have a record here of yours from the year before you met Kate. We'll see what you were doing and who you were with. Hopefully, you have someone who can corroborate that wasn't you."
Then, Lara opened a file and started to skip through the pages, which I assumed were photocopies of my Daytimer, which I'd given Lara before Kate and I went to California. She flipped through for a few moments and I remembered the images on the video. I hoped that I had something on that night so that we could easily refute the video, but if that night was my normal, I would have come home from work at NYP, had supper, and then gone to bed by ten.
"What day was that?" I asked, wondering if it were a weeknight or weekend. On the few occasions I played with Derek and Lisa, it was a Saturday night. During the week, I had either practice with Mersey or a meeting with my submissive.
"You were between submissives at that point," Lara said and stopped at a particular page. "According to your Daytimer, you worked late that night and then came home and went to bed."
She glanced up at me. "I was hoping you had something to show so we could prove you weren't with her when that video was taken, but according to this, you had nothing planned at least. Unless you did something on the fly. Can you remember back to that week?"
&n
bsp; I made a face. "What month was it?"
"November. The week before, you had a conference in Southern California on Robotic Neurosurgery. San Diego."
"Oh, yes, I remember that week. I was exhausted that week. I seem to recall coming home every night and just going for a run or watching television so I could catch up on my sleep." I shrugged. "Sorry I don't remember anything on the fly but even if I did, I wouldn't have written it down in my Daytimer."
"Yeah, too bad." She closed the file. "Oh, well. It's not like you're going to be charged with anything even if that was you. She was a consenting adult, and the police already know she's a nutcase. It just makes her appear more sympathetic with the jury, who might think her being used by adult professional men was exculpatory."
"Do you think they'll feel that way?" I asked, a sinking feeling in my gut. "She's locked away in the Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center. That's got to show that she wasn't of sound mind when she got involved with Derek -- and me. That is probably exculpatory."
"She knew the difference between right and wrong enough to try to cover her tracks and create this huge fiction around you being involved in the attack on Kate."
"It's just noise, Drake. And besides, she just wants to hurt you and thinks this will accomplish that. You have to write this completely out of your mind. Ignore it. We'll find out who that is. There must be some record of who he is. I mean, they'll learn who took the footage and contact them, find out who it was. It wasn't likely Lisa. It was likely the Dominant who took those videos. Hopefully, someone will come forward and either prove it wasn't you or say it was them."
"In the meantime, my reputation will be even further shredded in public," I said wearily.
On her part, Lara nodded and came over to where I sat. "Nothing to be done about it, but at least we have seen the footage and can plan our response. I think we should find one of your former submissives who's willing to come forward and say that wasn't you. Let me see if there's anyone who might be brave enough."
