“Wait a minute, Sherri. Are you sure those are real e-mails? I wouldn’t put it past that scheming heifah to just type some stuff and mail it.”
“They look real to me, with Randall’s work e-mail address. It looks like she just printed them out.”
“This is messed up.” Silence, and then, “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go into a meeting. But listen, don’t do anything drastic until you know for sure about those e-mails. Talk to Randall and really listen to his side. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you, girl. Call me later.”
“I will.”
She heard him when he came in. They were alone. She’d had Blair take the kids to the mall, thinking things might get ugly. It might get loud. But now, four hours had passed since she’d opened Jacqueline’s package. Enough time for her to have calmed down. Enough time for her not to rip Randall’s dick off as soon as they both were in the same room.
“Sherri?”
She took a breath, listened as his footsteps grew silent. He’d left the hardwood floors of the living and dining rooms and was now coming up the stairs.
“Baby,” he said when he reached their suite, “didn’t you hear me calling you?”
She answered without looking at him. “I did.”
“Oh.”
Imagining the look on his face caused her heart to crack. She knew him so well—every expression for every emotion. But then, considering the messages he’d written to Jacqueline, she doubted if she’d ever known him at all.
Randall walked over, his face showing concern. “What’s the matter? Why are you sitting here in the dark?”
She said nothing, just handed him the contents of the mail Jacqueline sent.
For a moment he was silent. “What the hell?” he finally mumbled, almost to himself. He scanned the other papers before crumbling the papers and throwing them on the ground. “This is bullshit, Sherri. I didn’t write that crap!”
“I didn’t want to believe it. But you can’t argue with black and white.”
“It’s obvious she created these to make it look as though we were corresponding. But I swear to you, baby, other than one or two times when I responded to a professional question, I’ve never e-mailed that . . .” Randall ground his teeth together, so angry that he was glad there was distance between him and Jacqueline right now. He wasn’t a violent man and had never hit a woman. But right now, if he saw Jacqueline, he’d knock her smooth out.
He picked up the papers, smoothed them out, and peered at them closely. Then he went over to his briefcase and came back with his cell. Sitting across from Sherri, he put the call on speaker. “I’m going to call my tech guy,” he told her. “Find out how Jacqueline could have done this because as God is my witness, this was set up.”
A half hour later, Randall and Sherri had moved their conversation downstairs to Randall’s office. Using the office phone, he called his tech guy, who said that indeed an e-mail account could be accessed from a remote location and explained how, by using her computer or phone a person could create a false chain of text messages and e-mails. Sherri finally said she believed him, but honestly, Randall felt it was more because she was tired of dealing with the whole situation.
His wife wasn’t the only one. He was more than tired too. So he excused himself for a moment and went down to his office. There was someone he needed to call.
“Listen,” he said when the call went to voice mail. “This has got to stop.Your trumped-up e-mails didn’t work. My tech guy was able to explain your stunt in five minutes. I’m on my way upstairs to sleep with my wife. If you contact us again, in any way—e-mail, text, phone, whatever—you will regret it. The authorities will be contacted, as will human resources at Science Today. This isn’t a warning. It’s a promise. For the last time I’m telling you in no uncertain terms. Leave me and my family alone.”
CHAPTER 46
Just when Jacqueline was ready to climb the country walls, a woman named Constance Riley returned to Raleigh. Since “Wanda” had mentioned the need to take a couple days off, the old biddy said it would be a pleasure to watch her neighbor. It was exactly the answer that Jacqueline needed. Obviously, her package to Virginia had arrived days ago. The conversation between Sherri and her sidekick, Renee, had told her that. Randall talked to James, but not often. Yet a niggling feeling told her that something was going on. Something she didn’t know about. So between getting Randall’s threat and (while in North Carolina) having no remote access to the feeds from the cameras in the Atwater home, she couldn’t get back to D.C. fast enough.
Not wanting to be seen driving the gray Toyota, she drove to the airport’s long-term parking lot and then took a cab to Phillip’s place. She paid the cab driver and on the way up the walk, felt it again, an unsettled something in the pit of her stomach.
She’d had this feeling before, when her school had informed the social workers of her bad behavior, and they had put a team on watch to observe her. This had led to almost one year in a girls’ home, where she’d met and become fast friends with Kris. Kris, the only person ever to truly have her back.
Looking around but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she walked as casually yet quickly as possible up the sidewalk to the front door, slid her key into the lock, and walked inside. The singer Adele was playing on the stereo. “Kris?”
“Hey!”
Jacqueline immediately relaxed. Something about Kris’s disposition always worked to calm her nerves. “Hey.”
Kris paused, checking her out carefully. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I felt funny just now, when I walked up the sidewalk to the house.”
“Probably nerves brought on by paranoia. I wouldn’t make a big deal of it, if I were you.”
“Did anyone come to the door?” Jacqueline asked, obviously unconvinced.
“Huh?”
“A delivery man, anyone soliciting anything, mail delivery, a stranger. Did anyone ring our doorbell or come to the house?”
“No, Jacqueline! Really, girl, you need to chill.”
Jacqueline ran a hand through her thick, soft tresses, picked up the mail from the table in the foyer, and walked into the living room. “Where’s Phillip?”
“He and Marco went on vacation. They’ll be in Europe for over a month. That’s why I decided to stay.”
“Oh, that’s right. He sent me an e-mail. I’m glad you’re here.” She walked into her room and looked around. The feeling she had wouldn’t go away. She looked at her watch, reached for her phone, and called Phillip. Placing the call on speakerphone, she began to undress.
“Phillip! I’m glad you answered.”
“I almost didn’t. Marco and I are headed to the beach.”
“Where are you?”
“Barcelona.”
“I’ve never been there.”
“You’ll have to visit. It’s a beautiful place.” She heard Phillip muffle the phone, then come back to her. “I hate to rush you, Jacqueline, but—”
“No, it’s okay. I just wanted to ask you a question. Did anyone come by here before you left?”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. Someone asking about me, maybe?”
“No.”
“Did you have friends over, or maybe a repairman?”
“No, Jacqueline. Why all these crazy questions? What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just couldn’t find something that I thought I’d left on the table in my room, that’s all.”
“Oh, you’re back in D.C.?”
“Just for a couple days.”
“Are you staying somewhere else now?”
“Uh, just helping out a friend in New York. Look, I have to run, Phillip. Give Marco a hug for me. Have fun and be safe!”
“You too, Jacqueline.”
She hung up the phone, and after a quick shower she poured herself a glass of wine and settled down in front of her monitors. She rolled back the tapes and for the next two hours got c
aught up on the happenings around the Atwater home front. She heard the argument, saw Sherri confront him with the papers, and laughed when Randall balled them up and threw them on the ground. Her smile disappeared when they left the room, went downstairs, and she could no longer hear them.
“Where’d they go?” She searched the other screens. All of the monitored rooms were empty.
Obviously, when she’d posed as the cleaning woman, there was a room she hadn’t gone in, one she hadn’t set up for her surveillance.
This was a problem.
When she turned back to the screens, she found herself eyeing a situation that was even worse than not knowing what she didn’t know. Randall and Sherri had returned to their bedroom. And they were making love.
“That’s enough,” Jacqueline mumbled through gritted teeth, as she watched. “He’s mine!”
Jacqueline turned off the screens and marched out of the room. There was something she needed to do, but she knew even this may not be enough to send Sherri packing. So far nothing she’d done was enough to separate them.That was unfortunate for the good little wife. Because when the opportunity ever presented itself, Jacqueline would take care of Sherri . . . for good.
CHAPTER 47
Sherri walked into the kitchen, grateful that the house was empty. Both of the kids were busy with activities and Randall had texted her to say he’d be late. With this information, she’d informed the chef that he wouldn’t be needed and moved her appointment with the masseuse to another day. She needed time alone to digest what she’d just discovered. To think about the secret bank account that Randall had been hiding, the one with information she couldn’t access. Given the runaround she received when she called to inquire about it, she believed that the balance was a substantial amount.
He’d lied to her. That morning when she’d walked into his office and caught him on the phone, she’d asked what he was discussing, had thought she’d heard something about finance. He’d blown her off and attributed whatever she’d heard to business. Then later, when he continued to act funny, she’d asked him point-blank if there was something he was hiding, if there was anything at all he wanted to share with her. He’d turned the tables by blowing up, acting as though he was the one who’d been wronged and had a right to be angry. So much so that she questioned her actions, allowing Renee and Debbie to convince her that she was rushing to judgment, finding problems where there were none. Now, things were different. Now she knew for sure that there was a secret bank account. This was a serious problem. Because if he’d lied about this, what else had he lied about? Sherri was afraid that she knew the answer. Confirming it was just a matter of time.
Walking into the kitchen, her mind was racing. For the life of her, she couldn’t get what had happened to make sense. Even if Randall were having an affair, they already each maintained separate spending accounts. Why would he have to place money into yet another account at a totally different bank? As she was reaching for the orange juice, an answer surfaced, one so shocking that she almost dropped the glass bottle.
Is he going to divorce me? Is he preparing to leave me and the children and he’s lining his ducks up in a row?
For the next two hours, she gave herself a headache trying to figure out the mystery, solve the puzzle. She wore a path in the plush upstairs carpet and felt the knot when it formed at the base of her neck. She heard the garage door and sprang up from where she’d been sitting. She walked over to where she’d thrown the letter that told of the account. She stood there, shoulders heaving, breath coming in spurts. She’d promised herself that she would remain calm, cool, and collected. She almost pulled it off.
“You lied to me, and this time you won’t be able to explain it away!”
“My God, Sherri. What has she done now?”
“Would you believe that for once I’m not mad at Jacqueline? No, Randall, this one is all on you.”
She advanced, paper in hand. “The bank where you have your secret fund made a mistake, and instead of sending this to your office they sent it out to your home address. You still don’t have anything to tell me, still have nothing to hide?”
Randall reached for the paper she handed him. He looked and saw that indeed the notice was from the bank where he’d set up the account to handle a very special project. He’d wanted it to be a surprise. But he wanted his marriage more.
“It’s not what you think,” he began, then cleared his throat and spoke more confidently. “I’d wanted it to be a surprise.”
Sherri said nothing, just stood there listening, looking as though she could kick his butt into next week.
“Come with me.” He turned and walked toward the bedroom door. When he saw that she wasn’t following, he added, “You said you wanted to know what I’ve been up to, right? What secret I’ve been keeping from you? Then come on.” He didn’t wait this time.
Sherri hesitated a moment before she followed. No doubt she didn’t want to know what he’d been hiding from her, didn’t want to acknowledge the situation that could very well mark the end of their marriage. But this horse was already way out of the barn, so she had no choice but to ride it. She took a deep breath and followed Randall into his office downstairs.
She watched as he walked over to the wall safe tucked behind a picture. Funny, but she’d never thought to look there.
“You’re right, Sherri. I did lie.” He tossed a folder on the desk. “This is why.”
She looked at the folder and then at him. Something about his demeanor unnerved her. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was behind door number three.
“What is it?”
“Go ahead. Look at it. I was going to surprise you, but . . .” He shrugged and turned his back on her and looked out the window.
Tentatively, Sherri picked up the envelope and looked inside. There were pictures of the Bahamas, with an area circled. Leafing through the papers, she saw architectural drawings and maps, and what looked like some sort of deed.
“What is this?” she asked again. This time her voice held no accusation but was rather soft, almost pleading.
“What was supposed to be a surprise for our fifteenth wedding anniversary.” He slowly turned around. “I secretly negotiated the purchase of your very own island in the Caribbean, Sherri. Where I’ve also had a vacation beach house built.”
“I’m sorry, Randall. I thought . . .”
“I know.”
“Please forgive me.”
“Already done.”
She walked into his open arms. “Will we ever get back to normal, where we trust each other completely again?”
“I sure hope so. Maybe our healing can begin on the island.”
“I’d like that, baby. This is the most incredible gift. I can’t wait to go there.Will it be done by our anniversary date at the end of August?”
“I knew you’d feel that way. It’s one of the reasons I wanted it to be a surprise. I just found out that due to delays, the house won’t be ready until November.”
She stepped back and looked at him. “Perfect! We can go there for Thanksgiving.”
“Sounds like a plan. Happy anniversary, baby.”
“Happy anniversary.”
For a moment they were happy, just like in the good old days, the days before Jacqueline.
Unfortunately, the moment would be short-lived.
CHAPTER 48
Randall must have stared at the e-mail link a full five minutes before he opened it. He’d threatened her freedom and livelihood if not left alone. Now, with an e-mail sitting in his in-box with her name attached, he felt anxious, had a sense of foreboding, because somehow when it came to his life, everything this woman touched went from sugar to shit.
You’ve already received racy e-mails, with naked pics of her attached. E-mails and text messages that were also forwarded to Sherri. All it can be is more of the same. It can’t get worse than her legs gaped open in front of a camera lens, right?
He opened the e-mail.
Immediately he noticed that instead of an attachment, she’d sent him a link. He paused, his finger hovering over the mouse, his mind whirling with what the change could possibly mean. Did she send a virus, hoping to corrupt his computer, maybe even somehow damage company files? Randall almost laughed at the thought. Here he was, worried about the state of his company, when she’d already made his home life a living hell.
Pushing the speaker button on the company phone, he sat back wearily as he waited for his IT guy to answer. Brandon was only twenty-two years old, but when it came to anything involving computers, he was a beast. The son of an employee who’d been at the company for only a few months less than the ten years he’d been in business, he’d quickly snapped up the young whiz fresh out of college and hadn’t once regretted the decision. Within six months he’d cleaned out a variety of bugs, spyware, cookies, and the like and had increased the speed of the company network by 15 percent. Likewise, he’d installed a security system with a firewall he swore was akin to what they used in the White House. Still, President Obama may have dealt with a terrorist named Osama Bin Laden, but he’d never dealt with one named Jacqueline Tate. Randall wanted Brandon’s assurance that it was safe for him to click on the link and view what had been sent.
“Hello, Dr. Atwater.”
“Hey, Brandon. Quick question for you. I just received an e-mail with a link attached, and I’m concerned that there may be a virus attached. Can you check it out for me?”
“Sure. Just forward it to my e-mail and I’ll give it a test.”
“Uh, it’s a personal note on my personal laptop, so I’m going to need you to come to my office.”
“Okay, no problem. I’ll be right there.”
Randall tried to busy himself by looking at a report that had just been sent over and checking his calendar for upcoming appointments, but it was no use. His mind was singularly focused on Jacqueline and how to stop the havoc she was wreaking on his life. When his friend James called, he hurried him off the phone. “Hey, man. I’m in the middle of something. Let me call you back.”
The Perfect Affair Page 24
