by Nina Howard
Until. Until one night Mike woke up in a cold sweat and deep panic. He couldn’t explain it, his future looming ahead of him terrified him. He tried to wake up Brooke to explain it to her, but she just murmured and rolled over. Over the next few weeks, he couldn’t shake the panic. It was just wrong. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do, but following in his father’s footsteps definitely wasn’t it. He begged Brooke to come with him to New York, to help him find his path.
Brooke wouldn’t have any of it. She wanted to be the bohemian artist in the family, on the other hand, someone had to keep the money flowing in. That was their deal. If she wanted to live on the Lower East Side in some piece of shit industrial apartment waiting tables, she wouldn’t have needed Mike Towner. So Mike packed his bags for New York and Brooke went back to looking for Mr. Right in Harvard Yard.
After working as a bartender, taxi driver and bike messenger in Manhattan, Mike was not one bit closer to figuring out what he was going to do with his life. Okay, he didn’t want to be Mick Towner 2.0, yet he really wasn’t enjoying his current career path. Menial labor had its virtues, though he felt virtuous enough by now. He toyed with being a public defender, though from what he saw in his part of New York, he figured that most of these poor bastards he’d be representing were guilty.
One afternoon Mike was drinking in a dark bar on the Lower East Side (long before it even hinted at being fashionable) and got into a discussion with a very drunk guy at the end of the bar. Before long Mike was able to ascertain that his new friend was an agent for the FBI, working on an assignment. Obviously not a very good agent, since it didn’t take much for Mike to learn almost everything about the guy in less time than it took him to drink two Scotches. Mike liked the idea of working a job that let you drink in the middle of the afternoon. More than that, it appealed to his inherent sense of right and wrong. He liked the idea of taking on the ‘bad guys’.
Getting hired wasn’t easy. Apparently the FBI had a greater need for accountants than agents. With his law degree, they offered him a place in their legal office down in Washington, although Mike wanted to be on the street. He eventually got himself hired in the Organized Crime Unit and quickly worked his way up the ranks, eventually gaining the position of Chief Investigator. It wasn’t what he had set out to do, it was what he was meant to do. There was a freewheeling element to OCU that appealed to the rogue in Mike. Act first, get permission later. These guys were the cowboys of the criminal justice system.
Of course, that fly-by-the-seat of your pants approach didn’t work too well in the Federico case and it cost him. They took him off his desk and sent him over to White Collar Crime, which was considered the arena of pencil pushers and accountants. It was meant to be a bitch slap, and it was.
Which is how Mike found himself waiting for Clark Donaldson to finish his phone call. After hanging up, Clark apologized again and turned his attention to Mike. A pleasant guy, Clark wasn’t really happy to be put in the role of jailor for Michael Towner. He was a good agent, and had a great reputation in the downtown office. He had heard about Mike’s troubles, as well as his reputation for going off script. He knew Mike wasn’t happy where he was, and wasn’t going to be very happy about where he was going.
“Mike, thanks for coming in,” there was that damn politeness again. He handed Mike a manilla folder. “Robert Vernon, 48, runs RPV Investments. Run-of-the-mill Wall Street Guy. Except it looks like Mr. Vernon has skipped town and has taken quite a bit of his clients’ money with him. Chances are good that he’s left the country. Not very imaginative, your basic embezzle and run. The difference is that this guy took a lot of money from a lot of very influential people. People with connections to Washington. Between the amount of cash involved and the people who want it back, we have to make sure we find him.”
Mike nodded. He had heard of Vernon. Anyone who read a newspaper in New York had heard of Robert Vernon. Okay, bad guy took someone else’s money. That story was getting old in New York.
“ That’s where you come in. Find him.”
Okay, this wasn’t too bad, Mike thought. They needed him to jump on a plane to the Caymans or Switzerland to track old Trippy down? He knew the drill with these weasels. “Great, Clark, whatever you need.”
“I really appreciate your help Mike. So here’s the plan.” Clark handed him a second manilla folder. “I need you to keep an eye on Victoria Vernon.”
Mike was visibly deflated. The Park Avenue Princess? He had heard of her too.
“Clark - you’ve got to be kidding. Let me track him down. I know this kind of guy. I know his moves, I know how he thinks.”
“We’ve already got people working on Mr. Vernon. We need you on Mrs. Vernon,” Clark said as he closed his folder and stood up. Clearly the meeting was over.
###
Trip Vernon never came home. Not that night, and not the next. Every day that passed should have brought Victoria closer to the edge, instead she went into offensive mode. For the next two weeks, she kept every appointment, went to every gala, and attended every meeting on her calendar. When appropriate, she would attend functions alone, telling people that Trip was out of town on business. Which technically was true. On the couple of occasions that she needed a ‘date’, she dragged Andrea Howard up from Tribeca.
She and Andrea had first met when they were repping wine, both out of college. Andrea had gone to the University of Michigan, majored in chemical engineering and got straight A’s on every report card since she was five. Andrea had always wanted to be the next Patti Lupone, so upon meeting her commitment to her parents and gotten a degree that she could fall back on, Andrea moved to New York to hit it big on Broadway.
There was only one small hitch in her plan: Andrea couldn’t sing a note. At 6’1” with long curly strawberry blonde hair, a freckled nose and hands the size of a man, she looked more like an imposing Irish innkeeper than a international singing sensation. Fortunately for her, Andrea had a razor-sharp sense of humor, and was the first to appreciate the irony of her situation.
Andrea more than made up for her lack of talent with a treasure trove of determination. After years of selling wine, waiting tables, and hawking cosmetics (not a good career fit) Andrea hit theatrical gold when she was cast in an independent film by a fellow waiter at the Mongolian BBQ where she was waiting tables. The film, “Call The Devil His Name” won Best of Show at Sundance and went on to capture gold at Cannes and garnered the then-unknown female lead a best-actress nomination.
Although she didn’t win, the roles came pouring in. Andrea Howard became a household word overnight. She became a steady regular in all the celebrity magazines, with constant speculation as to whom she was dating. Most of Hollywood men were out - they were all much too short - so she was often paired in the press with pro athletes and ‘producers’. There was great speculation that she was seeing a married movie star. Victoria never asked, and Andrea never offered.
They had stayed close over the years, even though they could go months without talking to each other. With Andrea’s filming schedule, and Victoria’s travel plans, it was rare that they were both in town at the same time. Luckily for Victoria, Andrea was between projects when Victoria’s world began to unravel.
Because of her celebrity, Andrea rarely went out, so when she did it was a big deal. When Victoria arrived with Andrea Howard, no one even thought to ask about Trip. Which was just the effect Victoria had intended. Andrea was the ultimate distraction. She hadn’t been very excited about going out, but she knew that Victoria would not have asked if she didn’t need the favor. Trip’s mysterious absence wasn’t lost of Andrea.
###
As they were leaving the Guggenheim on a Tuesday night after a particularly tedious event, Andrea asked Victoria about it. She was as straightforward as a shot of whiskey.
“So what’s up with Trip? Did he finally leave you for that pool boy?” Andrea had always maintained that Trip was gay. When Victoria didn’t respond with a joke, Andrea c
hanged her tone. “Seriously, is everything okay?”
Victoria faltered, if only for a moment. If she was going to confide in anyone, Andrea was the girl. Not yet. She thought she could still control the situation.
“Sure. It’s just that Trip’s working this big deal...” Victoria faded off.
“Of course,” Andrea said. “I know how it is.” Andrea didn’t believe a word she said. And Victoria knew it.
###
Although her major cards had been cancelled, Victoria was still able to shop. She used her Bendel’s and Barney's cards, as they hadn’t cut off her credit yet. Bloomingdales and Bergdorf’s too. She sent her kids to school, lunched with friends and really started to believe that Trip would be back after he had a chance to sort things out. She did have to reschedule the house party in Hobe Sound, she just rescheduled, didn’t cancel. She never considered calling the police, since it wasn’t uncommon for some of the men they knew to take a little “break” from reality. Trip may need some help, though he wasn’t going to get it from the police. It wasn’t until she started running into financial roadblocks at every turn that she had to take action.
She had been cashing personal checks at her clubs, as she had always done. Victoria refused to use an ATM. She found it repulsive that just any kind of person could be using the machine spreading God knows what germs. Not to mention the risk of getting mugged. No, she stopped at the front desk at her clubs, and they always cashed her checks. Until she tried to cash a check at the New York Athletic Club. The girl behind the front desk took her check, then made a furtive phone call, whispering and stealing looks at Victoria.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Vernon,” she said. “We can’t cash your check.”
“You can’t cash my check?” Victoria repeated.
“It seems that your last two checks were returned. The office has put you on the list.” She held up a short piece of paper. Victoria knew what the list was, though she never imagined that her name would be on it.
“Thank you,” Victoria said. She may be mortified, though she would never show it. The bigger problem was where was she going to get money?
###
The next morning Victoria stood outside of the Northern Trust Bank on East 55th Street, looked up at the skyscraper and took a deep breath. She had called their banker, Sheila Wiener, who suggested that Victoria come down to the bank in person to discuss ‘her situation’. She had always liked Sheila, who knew the complexities of both their accounts here in New York and Trip’s trusts based out of their Milwaukee branch. He might have taken all the corporate money, he wouldn’t have left her and the children with nothing. Surely Sheila could walk her through everything.
There was something calming about a rich trust bank. Unlike the corner branch of your First National, the carpets were plush, the bankers all had offices, people moved effortlessly and everyone spoke in hushed tones. The receptionist walked Victoria to Sheila’s office and left to get her a cup of coffee. She felt better already.
Sheila greeted her with a kiss and a sympathetic little hug, which really bothered Victoria. Nobody had died. It brought her edge back, which really wasn’t the best direction for her to go. She put her hands on the desk and got straight down to business.
“Tell me he left me something.”
Sheila nervously leafed through the papers on her desk and didn’t look up at Victoria. “He didn’t touch the family accounts. Also, it seems that the trusts are intact.”
Well, fine then. Screw Trip, where ever he was, and whoever he was with. That reminded Victoria, she should check to see if that secretary is still at the office.
“I don’t understand why my credit cards have been declined and my checks have been returned. I tried to cash a check at the club earlier this week and they refused. It seemed The Northern returned my checks.”
Sheila nodded her head, and gave Victoria an annoying look of - pity! “Mrs. Vernon, I’m so sorry. The FBI has frozen all of your assets.”
“Can they do that?” Victoria was incredulous.
“They can. And they do. It’s not that uncommon,” Sheila explained. It’s supposed to make me feel better that I’m in the same boat as deadbeats and murderers, Victoria thought.
“I can’t access any of it?” She dug into her large Balenciaga bag and pulled out an overstuffed Bottega Veneta wallet. She quickly counted a pile of cash that would make a drug dealer blush. “I only have about twenty-two hundred cash. That’s supposed to float me?”
“I’m so sorry. Our hands are tied. I’m sure once Mr. Vernon returns, this will all be straightened out,” she said.
Sure. Once Mr. Vernon returns everything will be perfect.
CHAPTER 4
Victoria stood in front of the wall safe in Trip’s library. She kept her really good jewelry at the bank in a safe deposit box, although her mid-level jewelry she kept at home in the safe. The expendable stuff, like a David Yerman bracelet or a Judith Ripka ring, she kept in her closet. If she lost something like that, or one of the staff stole it, no big deal. Her everyday “good” jewelry she kept behind a little Miro lithograph that fit perfectly over the safe door. She punched in the code - Trip’s mother’s birthday - and let the door pop open.
She picked up a stunning 1930’s art deco diamond and emerald tennis bracelet and draped it over her wrist. She’d miss this one. She and Trip bought it on a vacation in Paris soon after they were married. Back then, they stayed on the Left Bank, and spent mornings hunting through dusty old stores and afternoons back in the hotel making love for hours. They’d eat at bistros and walk hand in hand back to the hotel to for another round of lovemaking. It was a magical trip, a magical time in her marriage. She shook off the memory. A different time, they were different people. She knew she had to sell some of this jewelry to get by until - well, she wasn’t quite sure when anything would be resolved. No time for nostalgia.
Lumi knocked at the side of the doorway. “Mrs.? I’m so sorry, but it’s Friday.”
Victoria looked at her, annoyed. “And?”
“And Santiago and me have not gotten the paycheck,” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Last week, too.”
Victoria thought about this for a minute. Her mind really did work like a small computer, so a minute was really all she needed to make a decision. Without hesitation she handed the bracelet in her hands to Lumi. “I’m sorry Lumi. I can’t pay you. Or Santiago. The men with guns took all my money.” Which, technically wasn’t true. They froze all her money. Still, blame it on them.
“It looks like I’m going to have to let you go,” she nearly choked the words out. How was she going to survive without her help? Santiago, she could live without. But Lumi? That hurt. She should have seen it coming. She knew that when word got out that the vultures like Lucy Pearson would be circling. It was a well-known fact that Victoria had the best help on the island, and they’d be dying to snap them up. Over my dead body, Victoria thought. Lumi was mine, and she wasn’t going to just give her away. She preferred to think of it as a loan -- a short-term one if she had her way.
“Don’t worry, Lumi. I’ll make the arrangements for both of you. Let me handle it,” she said. She then poked her nose back into the safe. She might as well find something to tide Santiago over too.
###
Victoria and Andrea sat in the back booth of the 21 Club, with Andrea’s back to the door. The last thing Victoria wanted at this point was to be featured in a background photo of Andrea in the latest Hello! magazine. They both had worn large sunglasses and scarves, and looked like they were going to a Grace Kelly convention. It worked, and they got in and seated at Andrea’s favorite table unnoticed. Andrea ordered two Grey Goose martinis and stopped Victoria when she tried to protest.
“I have a feeling we’re going to need them,” she said. “What the hell is going on with you? It’s Trip, isn’t it.” Victoria nodded. “I knew it!” Andrea was a bit too excited with her correct guess.
“It’s not what you think Andi
,” Victoria tried to calm her down.
“Oooh! He came out, didn’t he?”
“No!” Victoria gasped. She took a gulp of her martini before continuing. “It’s not good, though. Maybe coming out would be better.”
“Oh my God, is he okay?”
“Who knows. He’s skipped town,” Victoria took a tiny bite of her olive, and put it back in her drink. “From what I’ve been able to piece together, he’s cooked the books at the firm and took off. The FBI is looking for him and has successfully frozen all my accounts. I guess they think if they hurt me they can get to him.”
Andrea immediately grabbed her mammoth purse and pulled out a checkbook. “How much do you need?”
“No, I can’t do that to you. Thanks, though.”
“Oh, do be ridiculous! If our roles were reversed, you’d do the same for me,” Andrea started filling out the check. “Do you remember when I was working three jobs and the only way I could eat dinner out was to go from happy hour to happy hour? Who floated me then?”
“This is different. Really, I can’t,” Victoria protested. Andrea would hear none of it. She was an imposing woman without even trying, and when she tried, there was no saying no. Victoria took the check from her, glancing quickly to see that Andrea had made it out for $10,000.
“Andi, this is too much,” Victoria said. “I don’t know when I can pay you back.” She hated owing anyone anything.
“Jesus, it was about ten seconds in a Japanese camera commercial. Besides, I’ve seen you spend money. That’ll barely take you ‘til next Tuesday.” She waved the lurking waiter over for another round. “You in?”
Victoria picked up her empty glass and handed it to the waiter. “Make it two.” Might was well drink while it’s free.
###
Lumi offered to walk the kids to school for the last time. She was devastated to be leaving the Vernons, she had been with them since Parker was a baby. Victoria had found her a temporary job, working for a family in that was going to summer in France and needed the help. She had made sure that Bitsy understood that she only got Lumi for the summer. Victoria assured her that she’d be back with them by the time school started in the fall.
