The Pleasure Set

by Lisa Girolami

  “Theresa set up the whole wine-spilling thing,” Laney said, “so she could leave to turn the camera off and take the tape. She’s been maneuvering her way into my life all along. Choosing my bank to open her account was premeditated. She had been planning this from—”

  Sandrine couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Stop,” she almost yelled.

  Laney shut up mid-sentence.

  “We agreed that you wouldn’t see them again to try to find out any more. That was stupid and dangerous.”

  “But I knew I could—”

  “And that isn’t all.” Sandrine stood, shaking. “We brought Theresa Aguilar in for questioning. Why didn’t you tell me you were sleeping with her?”

  Laney shook her head. “We aren’t anymore.”

  “But you were.”

  Laney looked down and her shoulders dropped. “We were.” Gazing back up into Sandrine’s eyes she said, “But we aren’t now. We haven’t for a while. Not since I found out what she was doing and before you and I ever—”

  “That was an important fact, Laney, and you didn’t tell me. What the hell else aren’t you telling me?”

  Laney’s head fell into her hands and Sandrine waited, furious and hurt. So many thoughts ran through her head. She wanted to yell at Laney to leave. She wanted to tell her that the night they got close was all a lie. She wanted to scream at her for a betrayal she couldn’t quite understand but that had burned inside her since Theresa smugly revealed their liaison.

  While Sandrine angrily paced back and forth, Laney said, “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you what happened. I initially began to hang out with Theresa and her friends. They had formed some sort of secret, exclusive club and invited me to be part of it. It was exciting and something I had never experienced before. Judith had just stomped my heart and I wanted to get as far away from her as possible. These women took me in and made me feel important and special. They seemed strong, like they could handle anything life threw at them. And they made themselves out to be entrepreneurs.

  “At first, I was attracted to Theresa, I admit that. Then I got caught up in the celebrity of it all. But initially I couldn’t see what this group was really about. Some of us went to the bank one night to have a party, before I figured out they were laundering money. I turned off the security cameras but somehow Theresa turned them back on and the tape was recorded. I didn’t know she’d recorded it and taken the tape. So when I found out about the laundering, I got angry and confronted her about it.

  “Now she’s holding the tape over my head and has threatened to use it as proof that I knew about the laundering and was in on it from the start. But I went to you anyway because what they’re doing is a crime and I can’t have that happen.

  “I made some horrible mistakes, and as soon as I realized what I had gotten into, I stopped seeing her and stopped hanging out with them.”

  Laney fell mute, tears welling up in her eyes.

  Sandrine stopped in front of Laney. She wanted to charge out of her house and arrest Theresa. Maybe that way she could make all this go away so she and Laney could start over. If only she had been able to sweep Laney up as soon as Judith left, maybe Laney would have never gotten mixed up with Theresa. But none of those things were possible right now. She was involved as a police officer in this case. “She’s the one you said you were dating. The married one.”

  “She was.”

  “You should have told me everything.”

  “Yes, I should have. I’m sorry for that.” Laney stood and faced Sandrine, her eyes blazing with frustration and earnestness. “I’m culpable of falling into a group that uses sex to lure members. They brought me into the group to use me as a pawn in their scheme. You told me that. And I needed to feel special. Being with them was like a drug at first, and I took it willingly. I feel ashamed. I would never, ever take money for an illegal crime. I’m guilty of naïvely accepting the opulent benefits of celebrity. That was the price I paid for being in an exclusive club, but now I understand that the price I’ll pay for letting my bank get victimized will be more severe than that.”

  The thought of Laney having sex with Theresa burned in Sandrine’s mind, and even though she knew she should separate that from the case, she couldn’t hold back. “Damn it, Laney! You had sex with her. I don’t know what you were doing with me during this time. You say she was just someone to make you forget about Judith, but this has made a mess of what I thought you and I were building. All I can think about is that woman and you. That fucking criminal and you.” Sandrine returned to her pacing.

  “Yes, I had sex with her.” Laney sat back down.

  Sandrine glanced at Laney, and what she saw clutched her heart. She looked so afraid. The color had drained from her face, and her jaw muscles were clenched so tight it seemed as if they’d both hear the crack of a tooth breaking.

  Laney looked up at her and said, “That’s something I desperately regret. It happened before I knew what Theresa was doing. I haven’t touched her since I realized there was a chance for you and me. Our times together have been a thousand times better than anything with her. I stopped everything with her because of the bank scam but, more than that, because I began to get to know you.”

  Sandrine couldn’t talk about the emotional side anymore. It was just too painful. “I will give the information about Rance’s business agent to Detective Singh in Narcotics. Beyond that, don’t go after these women alone.”

  Laney was about to agree, then stopped short. What had she just heard? “Alone? What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.” Sandrine strode away from her. When she reached the fireplace she gripped the hearth. “Damn it.”

  But she did understand what she had said. It had just come out unconsciously. She paced back and forth, grappling with her thoughts. She wanted to go after Theresa herself, but what scared her was less about the money laundering and more about defending Laney and clearing her name. She understood that Laney had an inside advantage and had even pictured Laney joining forces with her to stomp Theresa out of existence. But the thought of dragging Laney through any more of this terrified her.

  Sandrine sat back down on the couch. Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair. She stared at the carpet and changed the subject to keep her wits about her. Stick to the facts of the case. “Tell me about what happened at the casino.”

  “Other than Morgan telling me about Rance’s business agent, all we did was gamble for a while.”

  “Were all the women gambling?”

  “Yes. Theresa gave each of us ten thousand dollars to gamble with.”

  Sandrine looked up. “She gave you money?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many of you were there?”

  “Theresa, Morgan, Kay, and me.”

  “So she had at least forty thousand dollars with her?”

  “At least.”

  “She was cleaning.”

  “What?”

  “Cleaning the money. It’s how they disappear and then reappear money—a simple casino scam. You go to a casino and buy some chips and gamble. It doesn’t matter how much or what games, you just move the money from cash to chip and then back to cash. You can then go home with a story about the Vegas trip and justify the winnings on your taxes.”

  “I didn’t know they were doing that. Shit.”

  “That’s why I didn’t want you to stay involved with them.”

  Laney took Sandrine’s hand. Her touch felt warm and Sandrine closed her eyes. She didn’t want to pull her hand away, but she also burned inside from the jumble of feelings that twisted her gut.

  “I’m so sorry, Sandrine. I won’t do any of that again. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  This was the woman she had desired for so long. This was the woman she had shared dinners with and let into her most intimate place. And though Laney’s eyes were swollen and red, and lines of stress and worry marred her face, all Sandrine could see were hope and possibilities from deep insid
e her soul.

  She gave in to her yearning and kissed Laney, closing her eyes, trying to erase Theresa and the money laundering, trying to shut out what might happen tomorrow. She found Laney’s tongue and connected with the woman she knew she was falling for. She felt exhilarated but helpless in her need. She longed to protect Laney but wanted to protect herself from the pain.

  Sandrine kissed her harder, hoping that she could get lost in Laney and nothing else. But she couldn’t. She pulled away, and when Laney reached for her, she put her hand up. “I’m sorry. Will you please go now?”

  Laney rose from the couch and Sandrine closed her eyes until the door clicked shut.

  Chapter Twewnty-Four

  It was late afternoon in France when Sandrine called Pierre Girard, her father. She fondly pictured him drinking a black coffee and reading Le Monde, his favorite newspaper.

  “Ça va, ma fille?” Her father’s deep voice had always comforted her.

  “I am well, Papa. How are you?” She cleared her throat in an attempt to keep tears of frustration and pain back.

  “Je deviens vieux.”

  “You’re not growing old, Papa.” Since leaving for America, she had spoken to him mostly in English. She had grown up in a bilingual home so dual-language discussions were normal, but she had wanted to improve her English and smooth out her accent. Still, just hearing her father transported her to the childhood she sometimes wished she could escape back to. “Tu me manques, Papa.”

  “I miss you, too, honey. Tell me how you are.”

  She talked to him about work and then fell into the story of how she originally met Laney and about their first few dates. How excited she was to finally have a chance to get to know her. Then she described the case Laney had brought her and the difficulty she was now in.

  “I have always had feelings for her, Papa. But this makes it all different. I don’t know what to do. Ethically, this isn’t good for me.”

  “Americans worry too much about what their heads say. Follow your heart, my love. You will not go wrong.”

  “I’m afraid to go further with my feelings. Maybe she isn’t the person I thought she was.”

  “Don’t judge this woman yet, ma chérie.”

  “This may go very badly.”

  “Do you believe her when she tells you she is innocent?”

  “I want to.”

  “So you should reserve judgment until this gets resolved. You will know in the end.”

  “I want to, but I want to run away from this trouble, too.”

  “Il n’y a pas d’amour parfait.”

  “I know love isn’t perfect, Papa.”

  “Ne t’inquiètes pas,” he said, with all the love Sandrine knew he had for her.

  She inhaled deeply. “It’s hard not to worry.”

  *

  “My God, Laney, I had no idea,” Hillary said.

  Laney had shown up on Hillary’s door, eyes swollen from crying and more depressed than she ever remembered. Hillary had led her to the back patio, to a quiet spot away from her lover Cheryl and their daughter Isabelle. Laney at first didn’t know where to start. She had kept her best friend in the dark about all that had happened since the sexual encounter with Theresa right before her husband walked in. But all of a sudden, the tears came and then the words spilled out in rapid fire. In less than an hour, Hillary knew about the Pleasure Set, the money laundering, the murders, the heroin, and Sandrine.

  “I pulled a loose thread and the whole blanket unraveled.”

  “Holy shit. What’s going to happen now?”

  “I don’t know, Hill. The bank will be fine, but if this blows up any more, if Theresa uses the tape against me, I could go to prison.”

  “But you said you didn’t know they were setting you up.”

  “I didn’t. But that’ll be pretty hard to prove.”

  “Have you gotten a lawyer yet?”

  Laney hadn’t even considered that notion. “No, not yet. I suppose I’ll have to.”

  “Unless you can get the tape. That seems to be the only thing that could really screw you.”

  “Theresa won’t give it to me. She said she would, but I’m sure it’s just a ploy to string me along.”

  “What a fucking witch.”

  “With the broom in her court.”

  “And what about Sandrine?”

  “She’s upset, to say the least, and doesn’t know what to believe. And rightly so. I told her the truth but she’s pulled way back. She’s on the laundering case now and I’m more involved than is ethical for her.”

  “But she has feelings for you?”

  Tears spilled from Laney’s eyes. “I don’t know. Yes, she does, but they can’t last through all this. Things are such a mess.” She dropped her head and Hillary wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

  “Let it out, honey.”

  Laney closed her eyes tight, the tears burning on tender skin already raw from crying. She had never experienced such hopelessness and misery.

  *

  “So, let’s look at all of this together,” Detective Bruce MacRae said as he sat with Sandrine and Detective Anoop Singh in a cramped office at the police station. As much as Sandrine chatted with Bruce on a regular basis, they rarely worked together. Her cases seldom included Homicide. She had even fewer dealings with Anoop, in Narcotics. But fate had brought them together with a triple shot of deception, drugs, and death.

  “We’ve got two dead bodies. Bridget Marina and Candace Dooring were both members of this,” he shuffled through his notes, “Pleasure Set group.”

  “Pleasure Set?” Sandrine hadn’t heard the term before.

  “Yeah, that’s what we got from some of the people we questioned that are on the periphery. And it isn’t a complimentary name. Seems they’re some kind of secret, snobby club of rich women.”

  The name hit Sandrine in the stomach. To be in a group of women was one thing, but for it to have an actual name meant that Laney had somehow gotten involved in a group considered so objectionable and immoral that others had labeled them. Laney’s participation, whatever the depth, made her nauseous.

  “Anyway,” Bruce said, “both deaths have been ruled murders, and both were caused by gunshot wounds and from the same caliber handgun. Let see, we also have a money-laundering scheme that’s close to being confirmed. Is that right, Sandrine?”

  “Yes, it is. We have all the records from the First Bank of Rodeo and will be turning this over to the Treasury Department soon.”

  Anoop joined the conversation. “And we have a possible heroin connection, which may be the impetus for laundering money. This laundering seems to be running through the Morgan Art Gallery on,” Anoop rifled through some more notes, “Melrose Avenue. It’s run by Morgan Donnelly, who’s also part of this group.”

  “The apparent ringleader,” Sandrine said, “is Theresa Aguilar. She lives in Holmby Hills.”

  “And Laney DeGraff is connected to this group as well.” Bruce looked at Sandrine in a sympathetic way that let her know that he was uncomfortable with what he had just said, given that Sandrine had confided in him at the shooting range about her feelings for Laney.

  “She is, in that she’s the president of the bank,” Sandrine said, “and was the one who alerted us to this crime.”

  “But if she’s also a member of this group,” Anoop said, “we can’t rule her out as a suspect in the heroin dealings or the deaths.”

  With all her heart, Sandrine wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. “You’re correct. We can’t.”

  Bruce pulled out a magazine photo. “This photograph was taken the night before Candace Dooring’s death. We questioned—”

  Sandrine snatched the photo from Bruce’s hand. It only took a millisecond for the information captured through the camera’s lens to smash into her brain. Candace Dooring was shown outside the art gallery with her arm around Laney. Just how close to this mess was Laney, really? For a few seconds, it was impossible to hide
her shock.

  Anoop nudged her. “You look like you just choked on a baguette, Girard. What’s up?”

  Knowing her hands had begun to shake, Sandrine put the photo down. “I just hadn’t seen this.”

  Bruce apologized and Anoop stared in confusion at both of them. Bruce eventually continued their meeting. “As I was saying, we questioned Ms. DeGraff, who wasn’t able to give us much information. We’re waiting for Dooring’s autopsy report, since the coroner’s office can’t seem to roll the bodies out quick enough. We do have Bridget Marina’s report. Shot with a twenty-two caliber at close range. In the head. No weapon found. No prints at the scene. No witnesses. What else do we have?”

  “Well, as far as the heroin is concerned,” Anoop said, “we have prior intelligence on Jimmy Pick, the business agent of the boyfriend of one of the group members. Pick has been under surveillance for six months. That info is based on another tip, but we haven’t been able to gather anything useful. There’s a lot of talk, but nothing concrete.”

  Sandrine knew where all of this was going. Laney was the best candidate to tie everything together. She had the most information and was definitely deemed a person of interest. With a sour taste rising quickly in her stomach, Sandrine knew that when someone was a person of interest, they were oftentimes just one step away from being a suspect.

  “What have we found out about Candace Dooring?” Anoop picked up the magazine.

  Bruce scanned his notes. “Shot in the head, same as Bridget. They’re testing the evidence to see if the same weapon was used in both murders. And I’d pretty much bet on it. Anyway, Dooring was in her driveway, getting out of her car.” He looked at Sandrine. “The same night that picture was taken.”

  This time, Sandrine steeled herself to keep her expression neutral. But inside, she was spinning. What the hell did Laney know that she hadn’t told her? How deep in this shit was she?

  “And in this case as well, there wasn’t a spot of evidence or any witnesses at the scene. At this point, we have to produce either the handgun or a confession.”