Ripple of Secrets: Rose Gardner Mystery Novella #6.5 (Rose Gardner series Book 3)

by Denise Grover Swank

  I shook my head slowly. “No, sir.”

  “She’s been in here with me for a good ten to fifteen minutes,” Roberta said, pulling out a mixing bowl. “Why you askin’?”

  He looked over his shoulder, suddenly unsure. “Never mind.” Then he walked out of the room, leaving us behind.

  Roberta carried on with the cookies for a few minutes before she looked down at me, terror in her eyes. “I don’t know what you saw in that man’s office, but you can never tell a soul any of it, you hear?”

  I nodded, tears filling my eyes again.

  She licked her lips, then leaned down until our faces were only inches apart. “Evil goes on in that office, baby girl, so you best stay far, far away.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and snugged me into a side hug. “That’s my good girl.”

  Chapter Ten

  Hilary

  I heeded Roberta’s advice and stayed far away from J.R.’s office after that day. I also never told anyone about what I’d seen. In the beginning I felt guilty that I hadn’t done anything to help that poor woman. But as I grew older, I realized two things: one, it would have been pointless because no one, even the police, crossed J.R. Simmons, and two, J.R. would have made my life utterly miserable. And I told myself that Della’s husband must have done something terribly wrong for J.R. to hurt her like that as payment. She had to have known that going to him would be painful.

  And as the years went by, Joe and I began to date on and off. He would often leave me for breaks with other girls—a behavior that displeased my parents, but made Joe’s parents even more unhappy.

  When I was seventeen, Joe had broken up with me for the fourth time and was dating some white trailer trash girl who was known for her epic drinking and whoring. I was at home eating dinner with my parents one Friday night. In the middle of the meal, my father let me know how disappointed he and my mother were with my failure to keep Joe in line.

  “I’m doing my best,” I said in a huff, once again wondering how I’d gotten stuck in this mess. I loved Joe, I truly did, but why would I want to be with a man who always seemed to want someone else? Yet when I mentioned that fact to my parents, my mother leaned over the corner of the dining room table and slapped my face.

  I clutched my stinging cheek, fighting back tears as she pointed her finger at me. “You have no idea what’s at stake, Hilary. Your father’s future is riding on this.”

  “No one asked me if I wanted to marry Joe Simmons!” But despite my protests, I would have done anything for him to say he loved me. I would have sold my soul to get him to propose.

  “J.R. wants to see you,” my father said in a brusque voice.

  My body froze in panic. “Why?” I forced out.

  “He and Betsy want to talk to you about Joe.”

  At least Betsy would be there too. Some of the tension left my body. “When?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 7:30.

  My mother put her napkin on the table. “Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up and put on a pretty dress before you leave? You can wear the peach one I bought you last week.”

  My hands began to shake. “Why? I’ve never dressed up just to talk to Betsy and J.R.”

  My mother’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe that’s the problem, Hilary. You’re not putting enough effort into your appearance. If you were….”

  The unspoken implication was clearly understood by everyone. If I had put in more effort, period, none of us would be in this situation.

  I stood, clenching my fists at my side. “I don’t want to go. Someone else can marry Joe Simmons.” It ripped my heart out to say it, but I couldn’t handle the pressure all four of them were putting on me. It had only gotten worse now that we were in the second semester of our junior year.

  My father’s fist banged on the table. “You will go to the Simmons house even if I have to drive you there myself and drop you off at the door. Do you understand?”

  My tears broke loose. “Daddy.”

  His eyes softened. “You have to go, Hilary. No one tells J.R. no. You should know that by now.”

  I did. All too well. I went upstairs and brushed my hair and put on the conservative peach-colored dress, then headed downstairs. My mother was in the kitchen, looking over her shoulder so she could catch me before I left. She hurried over to me, cringing when she glanced at my face and saw the fading marks from her hand.

  “Hilary, my darling. You are so much like me.” She offered me a soft smile. “I’ve always told you that Joe Simmons is your future, but your father and I think that tonight J.R. is planning to break the deal he made with your father.”

  Cold dread crept up my back. “What does that mean?”

  “It means if you don’t give him the answers he wants, your father will probably lose his seat on the bench. And he can kiss his Arkansas Supreme Court nomination goodbye.”

  I studied her face in wonderment—too stunned to feel anger. Seventeen years ago, J.R. had made an arrangement with a man who was nearly his equal. It was obvious the balance of power had shifted more than I’d anticipated. But even more shocking was the fact that my parents had placed my father’s entire career on the ability of their teenage daughter to snag a boy.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  As I drove to the Simmons house, I found myself hoping Kate was home. We were nearly mortal enemies by that point, so no one would be more shocked by that hope than Kate. But I knew I’d feel safer if she were in the house.

  I pulled my BMW into the circular drive and parked, taking deep breaths before I could make myself get out of the car. I was being silly. Why was I so nervous? Would it really be the end of the world if the Simmonses decided I wasn’t worthy enough to continue my pursuit of their son? No, it would be a huge relief. They could yell, but they would never strike me. And if my father lost his spot on the bench? Well, it would be his fault, not mine.

  I knocked on the front door, expecting Betsy to answer since it was so late in the evening, but to my surprise, it was Gerald, the Simmonses’ butler.

  “Good evening, Miss Hilary,” he said as he opened the door wider.

  I crossed the threshold, overcome with the feeling that something was really off. I took a deep breath and told myself I was being silly. Yet when Gerald didn’t ask to take my light coat, my gut instinct was confirmed.

  “Follow me, please.”

  I almost bolted, but where would I go? My father would follow through with his earlier threat and bring me back. No one in town would help me if I decided to buck my parents’ and the Simmonses’ plan for me, and I had no money. The reality was that I was stuck. I reassured myself with the thought that I only needed to see this night through…then I could go home and come up with a plan.

  Gerald stopped in front of J.R.’s office door, knocking before he pushed it open. “Mr. Simmons, Miss Hilary has arrived.”

  “Thank you, Gerald.” J.R. sat behind his desk, a cigar in one hand, a crystal tumbler in the other. “Hilary, come in.” There was no sign of Betsy in the room.

  I reluctantly stepped inside, surprised when I heard the door close behind me and the lock click into place.

  Cold sweat broke out on my neck, but I kept my back ramrod stiff. My mother had pounded the art of never showing your true feelings into me. I only hoped I could maintain the ruse.

  He watched me, an amused grin forming on his face when I stayed close to the door. I knew him well enough to know he liked to watch people squirm. I decided the best course of action would be to pretend like the meeting was no big deal. I reached for the belt of my coat and started to unknot it.

  “Leave it on,” he said, his voice gruff.

  My hand froze, and I looked up at him in shock. Why would he want me to leave my coat on? Maybe this meeting would be blessedly short.

  But I’d given him exactly the reaction he’d wanted. He’d gained the uppe
r hand. He stubbed out the cigar in a glass tray on his desk, then took a long sip of his drink before setting down the tumbler. “Stay where you are.”

  “Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Because I’m J.R. Simmons, Hilary. I can do whatever the hell I want, and even better, I can make people do whatever the hell I want.” He paused and stared into my eyes, an evil smile tipping up the corners of his lips. “You of all people should know that.”

  My stomach dropped to my feet, promptly followed by the blood rushing from my head. He knows I saw him that day. Panic rose up in my chest, but I pushed it down. Panicking would do me no good. I needed to keep calm and reason myself out of this. I wasn’t sure what this was, but I knew it couldn’t be good.

  “You want to have this discussion while I’m wearing my coat. Fine.” I stood with one hand at my side, making sure my fingers hung loose and looked relaxed. My purse was cradled in the crook of my other arm and I was trying my best to portray the unaffected, aloof Southern woman, just like my mother had taught me.

  J.R. seemed amused. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “My father said you and Betsy wanted to talk to me.” I cast a quick glance at the office door before returning my gaze to him.

  “Betsy has gone to Little Rock for a shopping weekend and won’t be home until Sunday evening. Kate is sleeping over at a friend’s house. I told Gerald to take off for the evening after you arrived. And Joe?” He paused and picked up his drink, staring into the glass before looking up at me. “We both know Joe’s busy screwing a whore.”

  My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

  “Do you know why Joe is screwing a whore, Hilary?”

  “Because he’s like his father and will chase any piece of ass?” I asked, then swallowed the gasp that rose in my throat. Good God. What had possessed me to say that?

  J.R. stood, his face expressionless as he walked around the edge of his desk. “Betsy thinks we should cut you loose. That you’re not enough to hold our young Joe in line. And I was about to agree with her, but first I wanted to see if you have any backbone.” He grinned. “And there it is, kept carefully hidden under your genteel exterior.” He began to walk around me in a wide circle. “Joe is more headstrong than I’d hoped he would be. It’s going to take a strong woman to live up to the task of keeping him in line.”

  I kept perfectly still, wondering what he was getting at and why I still had my coat on.

  “Your parents have done a wonderful job of teaching you how to be a politician’s wife, but almost to the point of driving all the fire out of you. My goal tonight is to see if we can fan those embers to life.”

  I swallowed. “What does that mean?’

  He stopped circling me and stood at my side. “Do you know why Joe is fucking that girl tonight?”

  “Because he’s a teenage boy and he can’t keep his dick in his pants?”

  I expected him to hit me, but he laughed instead. “That’s true. But the real question is why isn’t he with you?”

  Oh, God.

  “Are you a virgin, Hilary?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “It is my business. If you are going to marry my son one day, your sexual history is very much my business.”

  I could refuse to answer, but he’d weasel the answer out of me one way or another. Besides, I had nothing to be ashamed of. “Yes, I’m a virgin.”

  “Has Joe ever tried to screw you?”

  I cringed at his crassness. “You should ask Joe that question.”

  “Joe’s not here, and I’m asking you.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I took a breath, trying to keep from shaking. I wanted to run from the room, but I knew the door was locked and it couldn’t be opened without a key. I wanted to say because Joe was a gentleman who had never treated me with anything other than respect. But the fact that he was currently screwing Kelly Rogers belied that concept.

  “How far have you and Joe gone, Hilary?” He reached over and trailed his hand down my cheek and down my neck, stopping at the hollow of my throat.

  My breath came in heavy pants. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

  His grin turned wicked. “Does that turn you on?”

  “What? No!” I took a step backward, but J.R. stepped in front of me and gripped my wrist.

  “Today it occurred to me that you don’t know how to make my son happy.”

  “It’s not my job to make Joe happy.”

  J.R.’s free hand reached up for my neck, placing enough pressure on my windpipe to make me uncomfortable. “Oh, but it is.” He slowly removed his hand and took several steps back. “I’m going to give you a very special gift, Hilary. I’m going to teach you the art of seducing a man.”

  I slowly shook my head.

  “When I’m done with you, you could work as a high-class escort…which you might end up doing if you continue to fail with Joe.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  He sat on the edge of his desk. “Not to worry. There won’t be any sleeping involved.”

  “I’m a minor. You can’t have sex with a minor.”

  “I thought we’d already established that I can do whatever I want.”

  “No. I won’t do it.” I turned around and reached for the doorknob, confirming it was locked. I pounded on the door, screaming and begging for someone to help. I expected J.R. to try and stop me, but he merely sipped his drink and waited.

  When I quieted, he said, “You are not leaving this room until I am satisfied that you have properly learned your lesson. We’ll begin when you’re ready.”

  I wanted to break out into hysterical tears, but he’d love that and I would give this man no more than what I absolutely had to give. I took a deep breath, wiped my tears, then turned to face him.

  “Move to the center of the room.”

  I set my purse on the floor by the door, then did as he’d ordered.

  “The art of seduction is catching the man’s attention. Now take off your coat.” I started to unknot my belt, but he stopped me. “No. Slowly unknot it, then take your time unbuttoning.”

  I did it, staring into his amused eyes as I tried to swallow the bile in my throat. I hated this man more than I’d ever hated anyone in my life, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Once my coat hung open, I waited for his next instruction.

  His mouth quirked to one side in a cocky grin. “Yes, you should look the man you’re seducing in the eyes, and given the circumstances, I’ll forgive the defiance. Now slowly slip the coat down your arms and let it fall to the floor.”

  I did as he’d instructed, then waited. If he wanted a striptease with this dress, he was going to be disappointed. It zipped down the back.

  “Come here.”

  Every fiber of my being told me to disobey, but what would be the point? It took five steps to reach him, five torturous steps. And when I stopped, his hands settled on my hips and he pulled my pelvis firm against his erection. I swallowed my nausea. I wasn’t sure I could do this. I couldn’t do this.

  “No.” I jerked backward, but his hands held me in place.

  He leaned back slightly and studied my face, his own empty of any emotion. “No?” Then he spun me around in his grasp. One hand stayed on my stomach, keeping me in front of him, while the other stroked my ass. “You were the one who watched me that day. How much did you see?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled, fear making my tongue heavy. I fought the tears burning in my eyes. I couldn’t lose control. Not with this man. I might not survive the experience.

  “You don’t know,” he chuckled as his front hand rose to my breast. “Do you remember what she looked like, pinned flat to my desk as I pounded her from behind? Do you remember her whimpers and cries? Do you?”

  My eyes squeezed shut and a traitorous tear slid down my cheek. How could this be happening? “Yes.”

  His hands painfully squeeze
d my flesh and his voice took on a menacing tone I’d never heard before. “I can fuck you that way if you don’t cooperate, or I can show you how to make a man so happy he’ll never consider leaving your bed. Which would you prefer, Hilary? The painful way—which can be fun too—or the pleasurable way? It’s your choice, my dear.”

  It was no choice at all, and he knew it. I was tempted to tell him to screw me from behind and get it over with, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “I’ll cooperate.”

  “Wise choice for your first time.” His hand slid down my stomach and my leg, then lifted the hem of my dress. “But you’ll do much more than cooperate.”

  I learned many things that night.

  The art of giving a blowjob.

  The fact that J.R. Simmons clearly took Viagra.

  That sex was power.

  My tears only got him off more.

  It was to be the first of several months of weekly “lessons,” but I didn’t know that yet.

  When he was finally done with my lesson that night, he told me I was free to go. He sat in his leather chair, wearing his boxers and his open dress shirt, sipping the drink he’d made me refresh for him. I picked up my clothes and quickly dressed, making him chuckle as I fumbled with the zipper. I left it gaping open and put on my coat, then bolted for the door, only then remembering it was locked.

  “Don’t make plans next Friday,” he murmured as he rose from his chair. I heard the desk drawer open and close, and I hoped to God he’d retrieved the key. He walked up behind me, only stopping when his chest was pressed to my back. My gasp only earned laughter. “You were a very good student, Hilary. And not to worry, soon you’ll love it when I touch you.”

  That day would never come, but I kept that thought to myself in case he decided to start that lesson tonight. His hand slowly slipped into my coat pocket. “Go see the doctor on that paper and start taking birth control pills.”

  I gasped, realizing we’d had unprotected sex.

  “And get some sexy lingerie. Wear black lace next Friday.” He leaned down and kissed my neck. “And let your father know his position is safe. For now.”