Going For Broke

by Nina Howard

  “Vicky, you’ve done enough. You know they’re with their father. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt them. I’m sure you’ll hear from them tomorrow.”

  She looked at him, thankful again for this gentle man in their lives.

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise. Now let’s get you to bed.”

  ###

  Victoria slept hard, and was surprised when she realized that she didn’t wake up until 9:30. Her mother and Bud were at the kitchen table, talking softly.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “You needed the sleep.”

  “What if they had come home?”

  “We would have waken you up, then. There’s nothing you can do but wait. Sleeping isn’t a bad idea. Besides, you need all the energy you can get today.”

  Victoria didn’t want to talk about it. It was so emotional draining, and she wasn’t used to being drained in this way. She shuffled over and poured herself a cup of coffee in her mother’s NPR mug. She nearly spilled it when she heard the doorbell ring.

  She ran to the door, expecting the police, hoping for her children. Instead, there was someone holding an enormous bouquet of flowers standing there.

  “Uh, delivery for Mrs. Vernon,” the voice behind the flowers said.

  Victoria hung her head. This was too much to take. Who was sending her flowers? Mike? This arrangement had to cost hundreds of dollars, and that just didn’t seem like his style. He was more likely to send a pizza. It could be from Scott, in a ‘Thanks for last night’ move. Maybe Andrea - it would be just like her to send a ridiculous arrangement. Knowing her, she instructed the florist to make it as big and ostentatious as possible. Her mother appeared behind her at the door and pushed past her to take the flowers. She tipped the delivery man and waited for Victoria to read the card.

  She opened the card and gasped.

  “Victoria - I’ve missed you more than you know. Love, Trip.”

  She crumpled the card and made a fist. “I’ll kill that motherfucker.”

  “Victoria!”

  She turned the card over. It read: Meet me at the Peninsula, Room 1417.

  The Peninsula? Of course.

  ###

  Victoria got out of Bud’s Buick in front of the massive marble Chinese Lions that guard the Peninsula. The stylish doorman greeted her with a smile as he opened the door for her.

  “Welcome to the Pen,” he said.

  She wondered if Trip got the irony of a man on the run staying at the Pen.

  She got in the richly-paneled elevator and rode upstairs to the lobby in silence. She was too angry to appreciate the rich paneling of the elevator, or the quiet elegance of the five star hotel. She walked into the cavernous lobby and took a minute to get her bearings. On a different day she would have stopped to appreciate the plush thickness of the carpet, the hushed deference of the staff, the elegant appointments.

  Instead, she located the bank of elevators that would bring her to the 14th floor. She pushed the button over and over, as if that would make the elevator appear more quickly. As it slowly rose, her mind raced as she tried to figure out her next move.

  What do you say to a man who you thought you knew who left you and your two children to fend for themselves against the likes of the FBI, Treasury Department and the social world of the Upper East Side? He left them with no money, no possessions and no explanation. What was left to say?

  She walked down the hall and was surprised to find that 1417 was the double doors at the end of the hall. Victoria had stayed in enough hotels to know that Trip’s room was a suite, and knowing Trip, it would overlook Michigan Avenue and the lake. She knocked lightly on the door, and realized that she had stopped breathing.

  The door opened and Trip stood before her with a huge smile on his face. He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her long and hard.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he said into her hair.

  Victoria pulled herself away. Was this supposed to be some kind of romantic reconciliation? Was he kidding? He kept his hand at the small of her back and steered her into the living room of the suite.

  “Where the fuck are my children?”

  “Shhh, now Victoria, they’re likely to hear you.”

  She was so busy looking for her kids, she stepped on a shopping bag as she entered the room. It only took a glimpse and Victoria could recognize the signature orange of an Hermes shopping bag. She looked around the room and noticed that it wasn’t the only one. Gucci, Ferragamo, even a small red Cartier bag was strewn around the room. What the hell was going on?

  “Parker? Posey?” She started opening doors, determined to find her kids.

  “Mommy!” They both came out of the bedroom of the suite, happy to see her. Thankfully unscathed. She bent down and hugged them until they squirmed out of her hold.

  “Isn’t this awesome?” Parker said. “Dad’s back!”

  Yes he is, Victoria thought.

  “Daddy picked us up in a jimo yesterday,” Posey said. “Just like Aunt Andi.”

  Aunt Andi didn’t kidnap you from school. Victoria didn’t want to alarm the kids so she played along.

  “That’s awesome. Did you guys have fun? What an adventure! Now you need to go back in the bedroom to get your things so we can get you home.”

  They both cried in protest.

  “We just got here. Dad just got here.” Posey grabbed Trip’s hand, which made Victoria feel guilty for one short second.

  “You let us miss school with Aunt Andi,” Parker argued.

  “That was different. Besides, we get to go to Oz tonight!”

  They jumped up and down, excited to get back to their big night.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she whispered. She had a hard time controlling her anger.

  Trip smiled condescendingly at her and sat down in one of the armchairs. She noticed that he looked really, really good. Tanned and rested, he looked like he had been on sabbatical for the past two months, not running from the law. “Sit down, Victoria. Calm down.”

  “Calm down? Really? You disappear for months and then arrive from God Knows Where only to kidnap my children? You want me to calm down?”

  He motioned to the other chair. “You look good.”

  “Just give me my children and let me go home. Maybe someday you’d like to tell me where you’ve been for the last few months.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to explain to you, darling. Sit down.” He stood up and walked to the minibar. He poured himself a glass of Scotch. “Can I get you something?”

  “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” she replied.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Victoria, sit down.”

  She did, almost reflexively. He sat across from her and took a long sip of his drink. He tried to take her hands in his, but she wouldn’t let him.

  “Let me start at the beginning. You’ll see it’s not as terrible as you think it is. It’s working out fairly well,” he said. It all started about two years ago. Things were going well at the firm, but I realized that there was a simple way to “borrow” money out of the firm’s account and use it to make side investments. Which, by the way, were incredibly lucrative, and supported a lifestyle that you seemed to enjoy quite a bit. It was a brilliant, scheme, really. My investments were leveraged, so the risk was minimal, and with the impressive profits I was able to produce over and over, I was able to repay the company not only what I borrowed but the interest that the money would have made, had it sat in the company’s accounts instead of my own. So, since the company never lost a dime, and really took on no additional risk, what I was doing wasn’t really stealing. High-end, professional borrowing was more like it.

  “The only hiccup came, for me, as well as thousands of others that we know,

  was when Bernie’s Ponzi scheme came to light. The margin calls on the money I had

  borrowed came without notice, and I couldn’t get the money back into the proper

  account in time
.”

  Victoria was dumbfounded. First of all, she really didn’t think Trip had the mental capacity to pull off such an intricate scheme. She honestly thought that he got his job through the old boy network, but never would be the guy that was going to run the show. That had been fine with her. Between his impressive salary and his family money, she never thought twice about money coming in.

  “Wasn’t your income from the firm enough? What about your family trusts? Didn’t we have more than enough money?” Victoria couldn’t believe he did it for the money.

  “The brewery had been going through some seriously hard times for the past eight years or so. Not only had the income from the trusts been shut down, I funneled a fair amount of my own money back into the family business to try to keep it afloat. I had a responsibility to you, to my family, to my children.” He got up and knelt at her feet. “I did this for you, Victoria. For us.

  Victoria didn’t move. She didn’t know what to say. Trip stood up and started pacing, taking frequent sips of his Scotch. Victoria was rethinking that drink just about now.

  “When it looked like things were coming to a head, I moved my accounts offshore - to insure that they would be protected. When I got wind that Feds were after me - I panicked. Maybe I made a mistake, but I wanted to have a chance to make it all work out -- for us.”

  Victoria’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “You left without even a note. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.”

  “I couldn’t implicate you. If the authorities asked you -- or anyone, for that matter -- you had to be able to be completely honest.”

  “Which is more than I can say for you.”

  “Victoria, you don’t get it,” Trip brightened up and Victoria thought he looked just like Parker did after getting chosen for the baseball team. “It’s going to work. It’ll all be okay.”

  “Trip, the FBI is looking for you. The IRS, The Treasury - half the US government has a team trying to track you down.”

  He shook his head. “That’s where I outsmarted them. I’ve been in Belize - they always look in the Caymans.” That explained his George Harrison tan, Victoria thought. “I’m here on a fake passport - they have no idea.”

  “Trip - they’ve got everything we own. All our accounts are frozen. They came into our home and took it all. The artwork, the antiques, the jewelry. They even took Parker and Posey’s toys. We’re not getting away with anything.”

  “I’ve got all that and more! Don’t you see - everything is going to be better than ever!”

  “How did you know where to find me? My mother’s house is hardly the first place anyone would look for me.”

  “Jack told me.”

  “Jack? When did you talk to Jack?”

  Trip walked the window and looked out at Michigan Avenue below him. “I talk to Jack every day. He’s my attorney, Victoria.”

  Of course he talked to Jack every day. “Did he tell you I was frantic? Did he tell you I had to drive back to my mother’s house in a trailer? Did he tell you that your children were traumatized, not knowing where you were you were?” Two out of three were true, she thought.

  “I knew it was only for a little while. We’re all back together now. It’s all good.”

  Victoria looked at Trip and for the first time that he may be more than just a bit unbalanced. “Trip, they’re going to find you. You can’t hide out in the Peninsula forever.”

  “Of course not. We’re going back tomorrow.” He walked over to the desk and picked up a file. “I’ve got a plane taking us out tomorrow.”

  Victoria couldn’t believe it. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “Belize! You’ll love it. I found a fantastic house on the beach. It’ll just be us, the sand and the surf. Help is cheap and the weather is beautiful.”

  “So I can see. What about our children, Trip?” she asked.

  “They’ll love it. We can all learn Spanish together. It’ll be an adventure!”

  “I can’t do anything today,” Victoria needed to buy time. “I can’t do anything tomorrow either. Give me a couple of days.”

  “Victoria, we need to move fast.”

  “Posey’s in a play,” she said. She didn’t know how it popped out.

  “A play?”

  “A school play. Tonight. I have to go. I can’t go to Belize.” Now that the shock of seeing Trip again was wearing off, she was just exhausted. She stood up to go.

  “Wait, Victoria! Let me come with you.”

  The was the last thing Victoria wanted. She could only imagine her mother - or worse yet, Mike - catching sight of her fugitive husband.

  “I’ll be back. Tomorrow afternoon. I promise,” she had to make him think she was on his side. She wasn’t sure who’s side was who’s. She looked around at the bags. “Stay out of the stores.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The next morning, she was up and out before anyone else. Bud had agreed to get the kids to school on their last morning. She was sad she had to miss it. Their little school was starting to grow on her. Just a little.

  She got to Mercedes’ office well before it opened. She didn’t have an appointment, but couldn’t take no for an answer. With her fugitive husband holed up in five-star comfort, she needed legal advice and needed it now. She stood leaning against the door to the Legal Aid office and felt like one of the homeless people that littered the surrounding blocks. Delores, the receptionist arrived early and let her inside to wait for Mercedes.

  She sat in the little waiting area and flipped through magazines halfheartedly, too distracted to read. She laughed as she picked up the latest People magazine that had Andrea’s face on the cover. ‘Single and Loving It!’ it read. No mention of the married co-star, but this was People after all. They ran stories of puppies that saved their owners and ‘where are they now?’ articles about child stars. Leave it to the trashier tabloids to get the real dirt on Andrea’s torrid affair. Single or no, Victoria was pleased to see that Andrea had booted John and Kate up to the corner spot.

  Mercedes interrupted her. “Do you just come here for the reading material?”

  Victoria jumped up, ready to hug Mercedes. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

  “If I had a nickle...” Mercedes said. She looked at her watch. “Honey, we don’t have an appointment, do we?”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s an emergency.” Victoria clasped her hands, pleading.

  Mercedes looked at her client and thought of the demanding woman she had met the first time Victoria had walked through her door. She had grown to respect and like Victoria, and wanted to help her. “Come on - do you want to split my bagel?”

  Mercedes laid it out for her: If she turned Trip in, she could cut a deal. Chances are, she’d probably get some, but not much of the money. Trip would owe it all in remuneration and penalties. She would walk away. If, however, she didn’t, they could go after her. Great, either rat out my husband, or go up the river with him. Great options.

  “What about filing the divorce papers? Doesn’t that show - I don’t know - prior intent?” Victoria asked.

  “It would have had to be prior to the crime.” Mercedes explained. Victoria crumpled a bit. “I didn’t think so,” Mercedes said. “Where’s your little buddy?” She said, tilting her head toward the reception area where Mike usually waited for Victoria.

  Victoria turned to look at the empty sofa. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if I were you, my friend, that’s where I’d start.”

  ###

  After she left the Legal Aid office, Victoria started back to the train. She stopped, and did something she really had never done before: She hailed a taxicab. In New York, she never took cabs. They were way too dirty, they smelled like some ethnic dinner and you always had to fight to get one. No, she always had a car and driver. The toughest part about that was trying to figure out which car was hers parked in line outside Bendel’s, a gala at the Met or Phillipe’s. The cab, as feared, was both dirty and fragrant.
Today it felt like better than Meredith Sommer’s Bently.

  “The Peninsula,” she said and leaned back into the vinyl as if it were fine Corinthian leather.

  ###

  Back at the Pen, Victoria knew exactly what she had to do. She didn’t head directly up to Trip’s room. Instead, she went to the bank of phones that were housed in small individual rooms, each with a phone, desk and bench. Victoria had learned years ago when she was selling wine that the better the hotel the better the public restrooms and telephones. She hadn’t needed one in years, but it was perfect for today.

  She shut the door sat down. She spent about five minutes fishing Mike’s business card out of her purse. She had thrown it in there when he gave it to her months ago, and it was still there, a little worse for wear. She picked up the phone and put four quarters in the phone - no credit card to bill to. She took a deep breath, and began to dial.

  She got his voicemail. The sound of his voice really shook her - more than she anticipated. She wasn’t prepared for voicemail, so she hung up the phone. She didn’t want to leave a message. She got the number for the Manhattan branch of the FBI and asked for Mr. Michael Towner. She was transferred to another line, where a woman answered ‘Organized Crime’. What the hell - was Trip involved with organized crime too? She asked for Mike- and they told her to hold for Agent Towner. It was the longest three minutes of her life.

  “Towner!” he barked into the phone.

  Victoria hesitated. “Mike? It’s Victoria.” She wanted to be professional. She could barely hear him, the static on the line was terrible. “Victoria Vernon.” She yelled into the phone. Thank God for the private phone room.

  “Hello?” Mike couldn’t hear a word she said.

  “Mike, I need to talk to you. Can you hear me?”

  “Vivi?” Was he under water? Under fire?

  “Mike, I need you to come to Chicago!” she was nearly screaming now.

  “...nothing. I can’t hear you,” he was breaking up. The line went dead.