Loren nodded her understanding.
“Then you also understand that this meeting is an interview and not a guarantee that we will take your case?”
Loren folded her hands in her lap, but Adeline paid close attention to the slight shake of her shoulders.
“You are aware that we are not your normal private investigator service? As such, our fees reflect our exceptional services.”
Again, Loren nodded. “I really do hope that you take my case, though.”
Sunday looked away from her computer and met Loren’s eyes. “As you’re aware, one of our services includes helping women whose husbands are . . . assholes?” Loren suppressed a laugh. “Since you’re here, I’m assuming that the mayor has been very, ummm, assholey?”
“To say the least,” Loren concurred.
“We need you to tell us why you are here.” Melanie shot Adeline a glare for not waiting her turn.
“Please excuse my colleague,” Melanie snapped. “We aren’t trying to rush you.”
“Well. . . actually, I kinda am,” Adeline quipped.
“Adeline.” Melanie gritted her teeth.
“He’s the fucking mayor, that spells trouble.” A big part of the Iron Ladies’ success was dependent on staying below the radar, and there was nothing above the radar more than a fucking politician.
Olivia interrupted, “I think most of the talking needs to come from Loren.”
“Agreed.” Melanie nodded.
Loren looked down at her hands as if she was contemplating each word. “I met Greg when I was an intern at his law office. I like to think I was actually on my way to being a talented lawyer, but when Greg made me an offer to work alongside him in his organization, I took it without hesitation.” Loren paused to study the faces of her audience.
“Go on, Loren,” Adeline encouraged her.
“So, I worked for him as an intern. At first, I was intimidated by him since he had such a temper. You know, one moment calm and the next, there were papers and objects flying across the room. He got stirred up by the littlest things. He hid it well, and only those closest to him ever saw it. Everyone else thought he was perfect. I knew he had goals to run for office, so I overlooked a lot because I knew it would be great for my career.” Loren laughed, but it was a watery sound that had Olivia passing over the box of tissues they kept in the room for just that reason.
“Thank you.” Loren wiped her tears and forced a tight smile. “I’m fine. Anyway . . .” She pulled in a calming breath. “We started dating a few months after I took the job, and a year later, we were married. I genuinely thought that he had loved me, but all he really loved was what I did for his image. It took me five years to figure out that the only reason he married me was because he needed a wife who fit the ideal image for his political aspirations.” Loren played with the tissue in her hands, and slowly shredded it without realizing her actions. “Our marriage, it isn’t real, nothing about it is real. We never talk, well, not unless we are in public, then he seems interested in me. He’s a good actor . . .” Loren let out a chuckle. “Even I was fooled. Occasionally, we had sex . . . plain old vanilla, emotionless sex. But that isn’t even once a month. We all know that if he isn’t getting it at home, he’s getting it somewhere. Every time I try to ask him about it or even ask him if he’s coming home, he goes off on me. We are probably up to World War eighteen thousand in our house. Everything turns into a war.”
Adeline leaned forward and gave Loren’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
“The thing is, I’m tired of the pretense, of the coldness. I want a real marriage, not just something that appears perfect from the outside. I want to be happy. I want my daughter to be happy. I’ve endured all this time because of my little girl, and I’ve realized that she shouldn’t be in a loveless family. I want to teach her that she deserves to be loved.”
“Have you called an attorney? Why not just file for a divorce?”
Loren grabbed another tissue and played with it like a worry stone. “No, I haven’t, because as soon as he catches wind of this, I won’t be able to fight him. If there is anything in this world Greg cherishes, it’s his reputation, and guys like Greg don’t allow their wives to leave them. It’s as much about control as it is anything else.”
This was always Adeline’s least favorite part of the interview process, not because she hated meeting new clients, but because this was when it felt like pulling teeth just to get a straight answer. Nothing was short and to the point.
“Do you think that Greg would try and hurt you if he found out?”
“Not physically hurt me, but I need you to know that Greg is up for reelection and he has aspirations for governor someday. He views appearances as a vital part of his image. His career comes before anybody else. He can be ruthless, and when this all blows over, he isn’t going to spare me. If I don’t have enough evidence against him, then he will use his clout to make the courts view me as a bad mother. He doesn’t want custody of Noelle, our daughter, but he’ll do it just to hurt me and try to control me. Noelle is scared of him, she hides from him because he screams all the time. I desperately need your help.”
Something in Adeline’s gut was telling her that this case was a hard no, it was spelling trouble. “What do you think we might be able to find about Greg, what kind of evidence?”
“My grandparents owned a lot of property around central Florida and they left me a parcel of about five-thousand acres as part of my trust. It has been valued at about five million dollars and is prime real estate. Just before Greg and I got married, I had an attorney set it up for a trust for our first child. Once Noelle was born, I had her name put on the property. I asked Greg about it a few months ago, because I didn’t get a tax bill this year. It always comes in my name as the custodian for Noelle. He said he’d look into it, but when I asked about it again he got mad at me. So, I went to the property appraiser’s page and looked up the information, but the info was hidden.”
“Hidden?”
“Yeah, hidden. You can file to have your property address hidden on all tax records and your driver’s license if you’re law enforcement or in a government position. It keeps people from looking you up and then showing up at your house. Our home address is hidden, but I couldn’t have the land done since it was under my maiden name and Noelle’s name.”
“So, what are you suggesting?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I just know that something isn’t right about the situation, and no one at the property appraiser’s office will release any information to me.”
“But, you’re the owner of the property, right? Why wouldn’t they talk to you about it?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that when I couldn’t find anything online, I called them, and the man who answered told me that he couldn’t give me any information because of the Privacy Act. I tried to explain to him that he didn’t need to protect my own privacy from me, but he apologized again and hung up.”
“And you think that Greg has done something behind your back?” Adeline asked.
“Yes. In fact, I’m almost positive, because I overheard a conversation he had with someone. He was on the phone one night and I heard him talking about the land. That was the night before I called you. He’s the mayor, if he catches on to any of this he will discredit me, so before I do anything, I need proof that he’s having an affair for the prenuptial. I need proof of his temper to keep him from taking my daughter, and I need to find out what he did with my inheritance. He is underhanded. I don’t want him to be able to turn people against me and blame it on me just being a bitter woman. I want undeniable proof that he’s a cheating, underhanded asshole.”
Olivia, Sunday, Adeline, and Melanie were silent for a second, waiting to see if Loren had any other bombs to drop. When the woman just continued to fidget, Melanie smiled and stood.
“Thank you, Loren, you’ve given us a lot to consider. We need to discuss what you’ve told us and do a little research on our own before we can giv
e you our answer. We, of course, will try to get back to you as soon as possible and will keep you posted about our next meeting with you.” Melanie shook Loren’s hand across the table. Adeline, Sunday, and Olivia followed suit, each extending a hand one at a time to Loren.
“It was nice having this opportunity with all of you. I really hope you consider this . . . if not for me, for my daughter.”
Melanie held the boardroom doors open and escorted Loren out. When the doors shut, Adeline, Sunday, and Olivia sighed in unison.
“Holy fucking shit. Loren Delaney, who would have thought?” Adeline shook her head, not believing what she had just witnessed. “On television and in the newspapers, they come across as being a happy couple. Just goes to show you that there’s no such thing as a perfect marriage. What’s this world coming to when women that look like fucking June Cleaver can’t keep a man? I can see the tagline now, don’t take it so hard Beaver.”
Olivia turned to stare at Adeline, her mouth agape. “I have no fucking clue where you come up with this shit.”
Adeline shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a gift, what can I say?”
Melanie shook her head. “Well, let’s get back to business, you know the drill.” She arched one eyebrow and locked eyes with Adeline. “What do you think? It seems like you’re against us helping her, Adeline.” Melanie made a few notes in her notebook.
“Trouble. Politicians are all trouble. He’s going to have every city office coming down on us. We are going to lose our business license and the fire marshal is suddenly going to find fifty things to fine us over before shutting us down.”
“I think she needs our help and we can give it,” Olivia explained.
“Don’t they all?” Adeline asked.
Sunday peered over her laptop. “I liked her.”
Adeline gave her a deadpan look. “I'd like to meet a client you didn't like. You do know we can't save them all, right?”
“Way to have a positive outlook there, Adeline.” Olivia threw her hands up in the air. “Debbie downer…she delivers.”
“Say what you want, Olivia, but it’s shit like Greg Delaney that use their connections to rule with an iron fist. He will make an example out of us and his wife.”
“Okay, Adeline, we’ve heard your side.” Melanie turned her attention to Sunday. “What are your thoughts?”
Sunday shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling, I’ll have the votes on my side.”
Adeline scoffed. “Livi, what do you think?”
“Politician’s wife. Payment shouldn't be a problem.”
Melanie chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe. . .then again he could be keeping her on a tight leash.”
“Love is the issue with her, not money,” Sunday said, defending her stance.
Adeline shook her head. “We don’t know that. Hell, for all we know Loren could be a great liar and actress.”
“Adeline, let Loren worry about how Loren pays, okay? We’ve got shit to do, as long as she can cover the deposit. Besides, there’s always Coco’s.”
“Thank god for Coco,” they all said in unison. Coco was the owner of Queen’s Gold, a notorious pawn shop in downtown Orlando.
“Coco may not be all that willing to help Loren though, you know how she feels about cops. I don’t think she holds much more respect for our Mayor Greg Delaney either.”
“Well, depending on the vote, let’s see what Loren comes up with first,” Sunday explained.
“Sounds to me that Sunday is in favor of helping Loren. Is that right?” Melanie turned to Sunday and Sunday nodded.
“Who else is in favor of Loren?” Melanie held up her hand along with Olivia.
“Not me.” Adeline was the only one not agreeing. Everyone turned to stare at Adeline, amazed since she usually was the first one to want to defend all women.
“You’ve got a knack for being the odd one, don’t you?” Melanie shook her head, once again shocked by Adeline.
“What? I don’t like politicians. They’re grabby. They’re self-righteous, and chances are I'll have to get up close and personal with this one.” Adeline shivered at the thought.
“I say we help her. She needs us, and it is our job to help those who need us. Will it be risky? Yes, but that will only help us in the long run. We will prove hands down that no one in Central Florida is above us or above being busted by us. Think about it, the rumor mill that will be sparked when someone actually catches Greg Delaney red-handed…”
“How about you, Olivia?”
“She’s got a kid. If it was just her, then I’d weigh whether it was worth going against someone who had that much power and money, but there’s a kid involved. We do it.”
Adeline flicked her nails nonchalantly, as though it was no big deal that the others weren’t agreeing with her. “What about you, Mel? What are your thoughts?”
“I think that while we are getting evidence to help protect Loren, we gather a little extra to protect ourselves. You know? Call it an insurance policy. He comes after us, then no matter what happens between him and Loren, we have material to ruin him.”
Sunday clapped her hands together. “Let’s catch the lyin’ lion.”
“Outfox the fox,” Olivia added.
“A lion wouldn’t cheat, but a Tiger Wood.”
“Ohhh, that was badddd.” They all groaned and turned to Adeline.
“What?” Adeline asked, feigning surprise. “Why are you looking at me?”
The other three let out sighs. Whether they admitted it or not, they all kind of loved Adeline just the way she was.
“Since the majority has spoken, you know the rules and will have to learn to cope with your feelings. It is all hands on deck. We’re going to have to do more digging than usual. I have a feeling that Mayor Delaney is especially skilled at hiding his tracks.” Everyone agreed with Melanie’s announcement.
“Sunday?” Melanie went down her list of notes she’d made.
“Yes, homie?”
“You’re gonna arrange a meeting with Loren at the country club, you’re also gonna let her know about our retainer fee.”
“At least make it our elevated fee,” Adeline chimed in.
“Fifteen thousand?” Sunday asked.
Adeline nodded and so did Melanie and Olivia.
“Consider it done.” Sunday gave a mock salute.
“Tires and bullets aren’t cheap these days, you know? And besides we're not messing around on this one,” Adeline defended her reasoning.
“Everyone got their jobs?” Melanie looked at Olivia and Adeline.
“I’ll head over toward the mayor’s office and start scouting the area. I’ll upload photos as soon as I discover anything of use.”
“I’ll start trying to find out where he hangs out and if he’s into brunettes?” Adeline patted her perfectly coifed hair as she headed out to her car.
More than anything Adeline would like to throw on a helmet and straddle a motorcycle, but that was unladylike, and part of their formula for success was to maintain an elevated lady-like appearance in public. Her only public rebellion was her cars. Adeline blamed it on tools of the trade. As the lead tactical driver and instructor for evasive driving maneuvers, Adeline claimed to need powerful cars, and nothing screamed power like good old American heavy duty V8 muscle cars. Plus, often times they provided the added bonus of opening conversations with their targets.
Adeline pulled into a parking lot across from City Hall and parked. She slid on her Zoomies, one of the greatest inventions for a private eye or peeping Tom, take your pick, since the hands-free binoculars looked like nothing more than ordinary glasses. Adeline reclined a bit in her seat, turned on her tunes, and watched the front doors and parking lot of the mayor’s office. She needed to establish a routine for the mayor.
Chapter Two
Riley
“Really, it’s seven o’clock in the fucking morning. Parents need to teach their kids some fucking manners.” Riley’s mood had been shot ever since his sister had calle
d him last night and asked him to come over this morning but refused to tell him why. All she said was, “Don’t say anything to Greg.”
He stayed up half the night worried that his baby sister had cancer, or that something was wrong with his niece. They were the only family he had left. “Now I’m even more on-edge, thanks to some asshat punk who doesn’t realize he can fucking listen to music below eighty-five decibels.”
“I’m sorry, did you say something?”
Riley looked up at the sultry voice and saw the real-life version of a wet dream. She was gorgeous and had curves he could grab on to. He was so busy picturing exactly how he would grab her that he hadn’t even realized that the ear-rattling music had ended. He was more shocked that the gorgeous woman was staring at him, then he realized she was waiting for an answer.
“Oh no, sorry. I was just talking to myself.”
“Yeah I heard . . . asshat punk.” The sultry-voiced vixen smiled at him, then stepped back so Riley could get a good view of the V8 muscle car that had rolled in with music blaring, the one he’d assumed belonged to an asshat punk. “Don’t blame it on my parents, they gave up on me years ago.” The woman winked at him and then removed the gas pump from her car and put it back onto the holder before strutting off.
Yes, she fucking strutted.
Riley rolled his eyes. “Way to go. Way to fucking go.” Returning his gas pump to the holder, he headed inside to grab his coffee and groaned when he saw her smirking at him.
“Don’t tell me you’ve come to give me a hard time for adulterating this fine cup of joe.” She held up a cup that was indeed destroyed in Riley’s book; it had shit in it. Riley liked his coffee black. If he wanted a dessert, then he’d fucking buy a dessert, but coffee was a drink, it was meant to wake you up, and that shit she held in front of him definitely wouldn’t.
“You think that the world revolves around you, don’t you? You blare your music at a ridiculous level, not even considering that other people might be trying to have a conversation.”
Roadster (Iron Ladies Book 1) Page 2
