FRAUD: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by R. C. Stephens

  “Um . . . wow. Isn’t it expensive to open a store? I mean just first and last months rent must be a fortune,” I said, not wanting to rain on his parade because he was smiling and seemed happy about the idea.

  “It is expensive, but Mateo and I were talking about getting a bank loan together.” Maybe I was too practical, but that information conjured up more questions in my mind.

  “I don’t think we would get approved,” I said blatantly.

  “Why not?” Marks dark brows furrowed together, and I could tell I irritated him.

  “Because we probably don’t have enough income,” I reminded him. This wasn’t the first time Mark had come home with some outlandish business idea that seemed completely unreasonable, given our circumstances.

  “What if I’m able to get the loan? Would I have your support? Mateo’s name would be on the loan too, and it’s a business loan not a personal one,” he explained.

  I didn’t know how to answer that. We had a large mortgage on our home, and we took out a second mortgage so Mark could buy merchandise for his warehouse. I was making an okay salary, but it wasn’t anything astronomical. A bank loan would mean more interest payments and what if the store didn’t succeed? He wasn’t selling as well because Walmart had started to expand throughout the state. How could he compete?

  “I think we need to consider all options. Walmart is building stores all around us now.” A store close by had just opened. I had also heard construction sites talked about on the evening news. They had suddenly been making a splash.

  “Look, we need to do something fast. I can’t afford my car payments or yours,” he said, blindsiding me.

  “What?” I must not have heard him right.

  Lily’s show ended, and she walked over to me and put her hands out. I was still cooking, so it made difficult to pick her up. It irked me how she didn’t feel like she could go to Mark who had free hands. I hoisted her up on my hip.

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” My insides were shaking as I wiped my hands on a rag and walked over to him. He was in charge of our car payments, electrical bills, and phone bills. I paid the other stuff. We didn’t have a joint bank account, but my parents never shared accounts either. I passed Lily to him when my hands grew tired. He held her a second and placed her on the ground in front of him.

  “I didn’t want to stress you out,” he deadpanned.

  “So you thought dropping this on me last minute wouldn’t stress me out?” My eyes were wide and my chest felt tight. Lily began playing with the rice on my plate. It was getting everywhere.

  He shook his head. “I thought I could figure something out. The store seems to be our best option. Fuck, Nat. I didn’t go to school. I don’t have a degree to fall back on.” He was irritated, big surprise. It also wasn’t the first time he fed me the I-didn’t-go-to-school line as if someone had stopped him. Lately he was always angry about something. He must have felt like he’d been carrying our financial burdens on his shoulders all by himself. I didn’t want him to feel that way. I might not have had a good example growing up, but our marriage was a partnership for better or worse.

  “If the store will make you happy, and you feel like it’s a good opportunity, then I guess go for it.” I forced a smile, fighting to sound enthusiatic.

  “Thanks.” His features softened, and he seemed to deflate somewhat.

  “What are we supposed to do about the cars then?” I asked. I had my Honda Pilot, and he had a small Mercedes SUV.

  He winced. “We have to return them to the dealer.”

  “We’ll lose our deposit.” It was money I had worked hard to save. I tried to keep my voice even, not wanting to argue in front of Lily.

  “Then we lose our deposit,” he said so easily. “I’ll need to get an old van for the store and maybe we can find something used for you too. We need to budget better.” It irked me how calm he was, but I’d take that over angry Mark any day.

  “Yeah, okay.” I didn’t want to sound like a spoiled brat. On my end I thought I was doing a bang-up job of budgeting. I used a spreadsheet Shay had shared with me. I didn’t have my husband’s info on it because Mark was self-employed and not the most organized. I didn’t want to be on his case about it because it irritated him when I was. I tried when he first opened his business, and my wanting to help him out was interpreted as prying and not useful to him and we fought. I didn’t want to fight. After growing up in a home with parents who either fought or didn’t speak to each other, it was the last thing I wanted.

  Dinner was ready and Mark joined me at the table. Truth is I lost my appetite.

  Mark forked the food on his plate a little abruptly. “Do you not like it?” I asked.

  “It’s Chinese food, Nat,” he answered as if that said it all.

  “I cooked it with fresh garlic and a little soy sauce. I thought you’d appreciate something different since last night you complained I always make the same thing.”

  “It’s fine.” He continued to eat quietly. That conversation had been the most he had spoken to me in six months, and now he was back to being a mute.

  “When is Mateo coming to Florida?” I asked, figuring if I inquire about his friend that would help us communicate.

  “Tomorrow.”

  My eyes widened. “Oh! I didn’t realize this was happening so soon.”

  I felt out of the loop.

  Why hadn’t he come to me with this earlier? And what if I would’ve said I didn’t support him taking a large bank loan? Would he have done it anyway? Mateo was on his way without Mark knowing how I felt, which meant Mark didn’t give a shit about my opinion. My stomach sank.

  “Where is he staying?” I swallowed back the hurt I felt.

  “South Beach, he has a cousin who lives here.”

  “Nice. We should have him over for dinner one night,” I suggested, thinking it made

  sense for me to get to know my husband’s new business partner.

  “Mateo is single, Nat. He doesn’t want to come over for a quiet evening at home. He goes out clubbing and shit.” He huffed. “I don’t remember what that’s like.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

  “Ha! Me neither. It’s been some time since we’ve gone out. Maybe we could go to South Beach soon. You know, do something fun, different.”

  “What about Lily? We don’t have a babysitter.” He reminded me of the reason we never went out. I didn’t want to leave Lily with a random stranger and my mom was too busy with her social calendar.

  “I’m going to ask my mom. Lily’s a little older; it isn’t difficult to get her to sleep. Maybe she can come with Desmond so she has company.” Mom liked to do everything with her new husband.

  “Okay, if your mom agrees, I’m in,” Mark said as he finished the last few bites of food on his plate.

  “Great. I’ll give her a call tomorrow.” I placed my plate in the sink, feeling out of sorts. Mark never behaved this way before. We had always discussed things, he had always been open with me. Everything about our conversation tonight made me feel like an afterthought, and I didn’t like it. He’d been pulling away these past six months, but I needed to fight for our marriage. I had to do something to bring him back to me.

  After putting Lily down to sleep, I took a shower. After my shower I had a one-track mind. I wanted to be close to my husband, and the only way I knew how to reach him was in the bedroom tussled between the sheets. I dropped my towel to the floor, my skin a little dewy from the hot shower. Mark’s eyes heated as I crawled over the bed and slid under the covers. I pressed my lips to his, waiting for his hands to take hold of my waist. Waiting for him to claim me any possible way. I slid my hands down toward his cock to find him limp. Surprised, I pulled my hand away as if I touched a hot flame. This was odd, but I wouldn’t give up. We hadn’t had sex since he returned from LA in the summer. My hands paved a trail across his chest and down his torso, my lips spread light kisses as I lowered myself down his strong body. I gripped his cock in my hand a
nd began to pump. He slowly grew harder, but it wasn’t a full erection. I couldn’t call him on it. I wanted to ask him if he didn’t find me sexy anymore. This was a far cry from our early days as a couple when being close to him caused an erection.

  I knew my husband, and I knew if I said anything it would only make matters worse. I sucked his half limp cock. He didn’t stop me, his breaths grew ragged. I didn’t know if it meant he was enjoying it. Outside of my husband I’d only been with one other man. It was during my senior year of high school and we broke up when I left for UCLA. That experience had been nice. Colin had been a kind, attentive boyfriend. We’d been together since junior year, but we were destined for different colleges and different paths.

  It was clear I was not going to get Mark off with my mouth. I sometimes wondered if my inexperience was coming through. I climbed back up his body. I was horny. I wanted sex. Mark was never in the mood. I could probably count the fingers on both hands as to how many times we’d had sex in the past year.

  “I’m tired, honey.” He rubbed my back as if he were an old friend consoling me. “You can ride me if you want.” Gee how considerate of you to offer.

  “That’s okay. Get your rest,” I said, pulling away while keeping my voice even and sweet.

  His arm came up and held me in place. “It’s okay if you do the work sometimes,” he said.

  I didn’t know what to make of his words. Were they meant as a jab? That is what it had felt like. He made me feel small, inadequate. When we were together at the beginning before Lily was born, he was an attentive lover. Then I got pregnant and things slowly began to change. I figured some men were turned off by a pregnant woman. Maybe my boobs sagged a little now that I had breastfed Lily for nearly a year.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  If he wanted me to ride him, I would. I wanted to make my husband happy. I wanted him to look at me with warmth in his eyes that I once thought were soulful and loving but now seemed dark and absent. I spread my legs and reached for his dick only to find him completely limp. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. “You know what? I’m pretty exhausted myself. Why don’t we call it a night?” I gave him a peck on the lips, hopefully hiding my irritation and confusion. I didn’t want to poke the tiger. He had developed a temper.

  I turned on my pillow and stared at the empty space in front of me.

  How had I ended up here? Like this.

  My parents were against our marriage. They said a man without a diploma wouldn’t be able to support a family. I didn’t care about a diploma or money. Mark and I were madly in love, and I believed he was resourceful. Of the one Christmas I spent with his family, they seemed to be close and loving. They weren’t a rich family by any means, but they seemed content, normal. I’d thought I wanted what they had even if they were struggling financially.

  My own family had been disconnected growing up. Matt and I spend a lot of time together. When Matt reached high school he became a loner. Went to the beach a lot. I knew he took medication, but I didn’t understand it. He began traveling to surfing competitions around the globe. He seemed happy, then he was gone at twenty-three. An accident . . . that’s what my parents called it. I let out a puff of air.

  A family.

  That was truly all I wanted when I married Mark. Such a little thing that never seemed in arm’s reach.

  Chapter Eight

  Hayes

  Spring 2006

  “Hey, man, you coming out tonight?” my friend Simon asked as I was packing up my bookbag after class.

  I didn’t have time to go out like most of my classmates since I was taking a double course load.

  “Nah! Got too much work to do,” I answered. I spent way too much time within the four walls of my flat with my nose stuffed in the books.

  “If you change your mind, a bunch of us are heading to McGuillicutty’s.”

  “Thanks. I could probably use a night out.” I gave Simon a small smile as he turned to leave.

  It was a Thursday night, and I had my regular volunteering job at the soup kitchen. I was applying to grad school within the next year and volunteering helped my résumé. I didn’t know where I wanted to apply to grad school. My grandparents were hoping I’d return to England and attend Oxford like my grandfather had done, but I didn’t see myself returning to the UK. A part of me felt like I wanted to leave my past there and start a new life in America.

  My grandparents were understanding people, but they also wanted to see me, especially now that they were getting older. I felt guilt over that. During our last talk Gramps suggested I apply to Harvard or Yale. I, on the other hand, was thinking something more along the lines of Florida. I had family there and a particular woman I still thought about, even though I hadn’t seen her in well over seven months.

  I arrived at the soup kitchen and dropped my belongings off in an office at the back. I made it in time to serve supper.

  I rolled up the sleeves of my hoodie and got to work serving food. I’d come to know some of the regulars.

  “Hello, Charles.” I smiled to a man who looked to be in his thirties. He didn’t talk much, but he nodded when I said his name. The next man in line was someone I hadn’t seen for a while.

  “Fernando. Good to see you, mate.” He slowly looked up and his dark eyes narrowed.

  “I remember you, yeah.” His eyes moved quickly over my body and then he looked from side to side before leaning in to me. “I’ve been away,” he whispered.

  Truth is, I knew he spent some time in a mental hospital. One of the employees at the shelter was able to get him some help.

  “And how are you doing now?” I asked. Someone like Fernando probably needed to be on medication for the rest of his life, but given he lived on the street, it probably wasn’t plausible.

  “I don’t know.” He paused and suddenly his head whipped to the side and he began a completely different conversation. He clearly had multiple personalities. “I didn’t mean to. I told you it was an accident. You are the stupid jerk who distracted me,” he said to himself.

  “Fernando.” I said his name and waited. It seemed like a curtain had come down over his face when he spoke again.

  “Yes?” he asked, looking me right in the eye.

  “Is everything okay?” I inquired.

  He shook his head. “I made a mistake a long time ago. Gus got in my way, I didn’t see what was happening. We were in the water. Something bad happened,” he explained, pursing his lips. Before I got in another word, he was back to having conversations with himself, although he paused for me to put food on his plate.

  “Here you go.” I grinned.

  He gazed at me for a few beats, his eyes dark and withdrawn. “They can’t find me. I think I’m safe now.”

  “Who can’t find you?” I asked.

  “The bad men,” he answered. He shook his head almost like a nervous tick and suddenly he had another conversation as he burst into laughter. “Give me the drugs and shut the fuck up,” he snarled. “That’s right. Ya. I say what goes down. Not you.” He went from sounding like a drunk to mafia warlord in a matter of seconds.

  I made an internal note to talk to Brian later to see if there was anything we could do to help him. He shouldn’t be wandering the streets.

  I continued to serve food while keeping my eye on Fernando. There were moments he was really upset, shouting he would never go back to Mexico.

  “Hey, Brian.” I caught him as he was heading out the door.

  “Hayes. What’s up, man?” He gave me a fist pump.

  “I was wondering if there was more that could be done for Fernando. His condition seems to be out of control.” I pressed my lips together. I was a volunteer but Brian ran the place and had more resources at his disposal.

  “Yeah, man, I’ve seen that. It isn’t so easy because he’s been hospitalized a few times already, and he does well so they release him.” He sighed and turned to see Fernando mouthing something off. “He sounds like he’s watched too m
uch Scarface.” He frowned.

  “I wonder if Fernando has been through something traumatic. The way he looks over his shoulder all the time and says the bad men are coming.”

  “I don’t know, man, but I can see he needs the help again. I’ll make a few calls and keep you posted.” He clapped me on the back.

  I nodded in appreciation.

  “Have a good one,” he said and turned to leave.

  By the time the supper rush was over, I was exhausted. I left by foot toward my flat. At least school was out in six weeks. I was counting down the time because I needed a break. I thought of Simon and some of my other friends at McGuilicutty’s. I didn’t have the strength to walk there. My feet ached and I was too worked up after volunteering. Sometimes I wished I could be a simple guy who led a normal life. Spent my time drinking and partying like my buddies from uni, but nothing about my life had been simple. There were things I could never erase from my mind. It made me wonder if Fernando felt the same way, only he cracked and was dealing with all these personalities as some sort of post-traumatic stress. I had an urge to stop at the liquor store to get some whiskey to drown my sorrows, but I thought back to the soup kitchen. Charlie and Fernando came to mind along with the many others who came there for sustenance. There was a fine line between the life I led and the one they did. A rope held me connected to my studies, to succeeding, to helping people, and that bottle of whiskey was like a match. If I chose the wrong route, it would burn the rope and break the one thing that tethered me to the life I wanted to lead. I couldn’t let the rope snap.

  I held on thinking of mum’s last words. I hadn’t known I’d never see her again when she spoke them. “Hayes, there is a special goodness in you. Use it to change the world. You are the one thing I did right.” Sometimes I thought she said that because mothers always think their children are special, other times I believed deeply I had something to contribute to this crazy world, and then there were times like tonight when I was tired and lonely. I thought of a bottle of whiskey, and I knew one bottle could send me overboard and flush my life down the toilet.