The Demise

by Diane Moody

  She suddenly remembered her manners. “Oh, I’m sorry. Hi, my name is Ju—”

  “You’re Julie.”

  Her smile froze in place. “Yes, but—how do you know my name?”

  “Aren’t you Julie, the Lanham’s Girl on TV?”

  “Oh!” she cackled, recovering. “Yes, that’s me, I’m afraid. Julie-the-Lanham’s-Girl. Right here. At your door.” Julie cringed at her own silly blabber. “Are you Jenny Gresham by any chance?”

  The girl’s smile faded imperceptibly as she swallowed before answering. “Yes.”

  “I wonder if I could talk to you for a few minutes.”

  Jenny turned to look back into the house before opening the door wider. “My son is napping, but he’ll be up soon.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t stay long.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Jenny led her into the kitchen.

  “No. Well, maybe. Water. A glass of water. With ice. If that’s not too much trouble.”

  Jenny glanced at her over her shoulder as she took two glasses from the cabinet. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

  “Oh?” Julie took a seat at the small kitchen table. “What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know; I guess you come across so self-confident and professional on those commercials. Pretty, but also educated. Smart.”

  “Which means I’m acting like a total ditz now?”

  “No!” Jenny said, handing her a tall glass of ice water before sitting down across the table from her. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, I know,” Julie shrugged. “The thing is, most of the time I’m pretty sure I’m just a clown masquerading as the face of a grocery chain. Not a whole lot of ‘professional’ going on under all that hair and make-up.”

  Jenny’s brows knitted close. “I doubt that seriously.” She took a sip then set her glass down. “Julie, I know why you’re here.”

  “You do?”

  Jenny nodded slowly, averting her eyes at first, then looking back at Julie. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Peter Lanham’s death.”

  Julie blinked, caught completely off guard. She closed her eyes for a second then relaxed with a sigh and reopened her eyes. “First, I need you to know that no one knows I’m here. Absolutely no one. And when—if they find out I was here, I’m going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  “They?”

  Julie paused. She hadn’t thought through this conversation and wasn’t sure how to say what she needed to say, or ask what needed to be asked. “Those investigating Peter’s death.”

  Jenny nodded slowly. “Am I under investigation?”

  “What? No! Of course not. Because no one knows about—well, you know.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “Me? Well, I, uh . . .” Julie busied herself brushing crumbs from the plaid tablecloth. “See, the thing is, I kind of, well, sort of just . . . stumbled onto it, if that makes sense.” She flattened her hands on the table, feeling a mighty rush in her mind as the words came tumbling out. “Here’s what happened—I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see and then I couldn’t help myself, I just had to know what all those checks were for and who you were and why Patricia was making Donella send those to you every month—same amount, same day of the month—when I had no idea Peter even had a child because he’s the kind of guy who would’ve busted his buttons, showing off baby pictures and parading the little guy around the office—”

  “Not hardly.”

  Julie gasped for air, thankful Jenny stopped the familiar verbal steamroller before she got herself in real trouble. “What do you mean?”

  Jenny shook her head. “First, I need to ask you something. How well do you—did you—know Pete?”

  Pete. Wow. Never heard anyone call him that.

  “Pretty well, I’d say. I’ve worked at Lanham’s for a couple of years, primarily as receptionist, but also doing the commercials. Why do you ask?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. How well did you know him?”

  “Oh . . . you mean—ohhhh, yeah, no. There was nothing between us. Ever. A lot of flirting at first—on his side, not mine—but I set some boundaries and he respected my wishes.”

  Jenny sat back in her chair and folded her hands on the table. “I actually met you once.”

  “Me? Are you sure?”

  She nodded again. “I was only there at the office on one occasion, and I remember you greeting me at the reception desk.”

  Julie sat back. “When you opened the door just now, I knew you looked familiar. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you.”

  “Not a problem. I’m sure there were lots of girls popping in now and then to see Pete.”

  Julie responded with a resigned nod, but didn’t say anything. Jenny didn’t need to hear how right she was.

  “That was the day I told Pete I was pregnant. I thought for sure he’d be as thrilled as I was. At the time, we’d only been back about a month from our trip to France. We had such a magical time there, and even though I knew he was married, I thought he’d be so happy about the baby.”

  “He wasn’t?”

  Jenny shook her head slowly as she stared out the kitchen window. “No, in fact he was quite angry with me. He assumed I was on the pill and couldn’t understand why I’d let this happen. He insisted I get an abortion. Immediately. I was devastated, seeing him so anxious to get rid of my ‘problem’ as he put it. He made me sit there in his office while he made a few calls and finally set up an appointment for me for the end of the week.

  “I knew when I walked out his door that I’d never see him again. I barely made it to the elevator before I broke down.” A single tear broke free but she made no attempt to wipe it away. “I know you must think I’m an awful person—”

  “No, not at all. You were in love with him. And believe it or not, I understand that. Peter could be so warm and charming. He made everyone in his presence feel important and valued. You just can’t help but love the guy, even if you know he’s—well, you know. He truly was larger than life.”

  “It was his smile.” Jenny reached for a napkin and pressed it to the corner of her eye. “He could just look at you with that great big corny smile on his face . . . and that was all it took.” She looked down at her hands. “I knew about all the other women, of course. But I convinced myself things were different with us. That our relationship would last. I even believed he’d leave his wife for me.”

  Julie reached over and squeezed Jenny’s hand. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “I just never expected him to react the way he did when he found out about the baby. So I let him believe I’d keep the appointment, but even then I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t know what else to do, so I packed my bags and moved up here. Well, not here in this house—that came later. I rented a mobile home until after the baby came.”

  “How did you support yourself at first? Before Patricia—”

  “At first I got a job waitressing at a steak house not far from the campus. But I quickly learned that tips in a college town aren’t great, so I got a job working at a church daycare center. The pay wasn’t great, but I figured it was a good way to learn how to be a parent. Working there, I found out how much I loved kids. The women I worked with were incredibly kind to me. When I started showing, they didn’t ask questions; they just made me feel loved and cared for. Made sure I didn’t do any heavy lifting. Went with me to my ob-gyn visits. They even gave me a baby shower. I couldn’t believe all the beautiful things they gave me for the baby.” She smiled as she continued. “I still work there, and those women are my friends. All of them.”

  “I love that—how they took you in. They must be very special.”

  “They are. I feel extremely blessed.”

  “It sounds like you were in a good place—a job, lots of good friends. So what made you contact Patricia?”

  Jenny took another sip of water. “I didn’t contact Patricia. I sent a letter to Pete, an
d she intercepted it. I’ve kicked myself a thousand times for not sending it to his office, but I assumed his secretary probably opened his office mail for him. I even typed the envelope so it wouldn’t look like a personal letter. But knowing Patricia as I do now, I know that was a mistake. She’s a very controlling person, so of course she would open Pete’s mail.”

  “You’re being very kind in calling her ‘controlling’. We all call her the Ice Queen.” Julie shivered. “It’s like getting frostbite every time you see her.”

  Jenny’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Exactly.”

  When she didn’t say more, Julie had a thought. “Do you mind if I ask how you and Peter met?”

  “I don’t mind.” Her face brightened a little. “I was on my way to work one day. It was pouring rain, and I hit a pothole and blew a tire. I pulled beneath an underpass and tried to decide what to do. I’d never changed a tire in my life. I was trying to pull out the spare when a car pulled up behind me. This impeccably dressed, handsome man got out and asked if he could help. Next thing I knew, he’d taken off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and started changing the tire for me.

  “Afterward, I asked if I could pay him. He said no, of course, but insisted on following me to work to make sure I didn’t have any more problems with the tire. I worked at Fleming’s at the time—”

  “Oh, I love Fleming’s. I’ve only been there once, a long time ago, but I remember the ambiance and service were amazing.”

  “It was a great place to work. Phenomenal tips. Anyway, Pete followed me there, then came in for a drink. On the house, of course. It was early—the dinner shift hadn’t started, so we had a few minutes to talk while I rolled napkins. He seemed so kind, so interested in learning more about me. He started showing up on a regular basis, and on his third visit, he asked for my number.”

  Julie smiled. “Oh, the charm of Peter Lanham.”

  “Oh yes. And romantic? I’d never been treated like that in my whole life. He literally swept me off my feet. I knew he was married, but I was so much in love, I didn’t care.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “I realize now how stupid and naive that sounds, but all I cared about was spending time with him; however much he could give me. I chose not to think about the rest.

  “Occasionally he’d take me away for the weekend. We went to Vegas a lot, New York, Miami; you name it. Then he took me abroad on several trips, and wow—I’d never been west of the Mississippi, let alone out of the country. It was all so exhilarating and romantic. I wanted nothing more than to live in Paris with Pete the rest of my life. But then we came home, and . . .” She shrugged, looking down at her hands again.

  “You came home, discovered you were pregnant, told Peter, and he demanded you get an abortion, so you disappeared and had your son.”

  “That’s it, basically. Unfortunately.”

  “When you wrote Peter, what was the purpose of your letter? Just to let him know he had a son, or to ask for financial help?”

  “If there were any other way, I would never have contacted him. But when Pierre was born, there were complications. He had to be delivered by C-section and came out seriously jaundiced so they wanted to keep him for a few days. Then, while I was recovering, I threw a blood clot and had to remain in the hospital for another ten days.”

  “Which ran up a hefty hospital bill.”

  “Exactly. I was so weak by the time we were discharged, I could barely function. And poor little Pierre was colicky, which meant neither of us got much sleep. My friends tried to help when they could, but I got so stressed out. Then the hospital bills and doctors’ bills started piling up, and I got so scared. I finally realized I had to have some financial help. I never would have tried to contact Pete if I had any other way, but I was desperate. So I wrote the letter.”

  “Which never got to him.”

  “Never got to him, thanks to Patricia. But as much as I despised her and hated the way she treated me, I know I never would have made it without the money she offered to pay me.”

  “What were the conditions?”

  “That I would never see Pete again. That he would never know he had a child. And that I would never tell another soul about our arrangement.” She raised a finger as she turned her head. “Oh, I thought I heard Pierre. It’s about time for him to get up.”

  “Just one more question before I leave,” Julie said. “If Patricia forbade you from telling anyone, what made you decide to tell me now?”

  Her sad smile returned. “The payments have stopped. Pete’s gone. I suppose I just don’t care anymore.”

  A shy little guy peeked around the door, thumb in his mouth and hair sticking out every which way. Julie couldn’t believe the resemblance to his father. A miniature Peter Lanham, all sleepy and sweet. She smiled at him, and he ducked back out of sight.

  “Pierre?” Jenny called. “Come here, little buddy.”

  At first, he leaned his head just enough to see into the kitchen before he darted back again.

  “Sweetie? Come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he flew into the kitchen and onto his mother’s lap, wrapping his arms and legs around her, hiding from the stranger at the table.

  “Pierre, can you say hello to my friend? Her name is Julie.”

  Nothing.

  “Hi, Pierre. I’m happy to meet you.”

  Jenny tucked his head under her chin. “He’s extremely shy around strangers.”

  “That’s okay. I was shy when I was young.”

  He turned his head ever so slightly then waved his cupped fingers backward to her.

  Julie stood and pushed in her chair. She patted him on his back and smiled at his mother. “It was really nice to meet you, Jenny. I still have a couple of questions. Could we talk again sometime?”

  “Sure.” She got up with Pierre still clinging to her. She scribbled a note on a memo pad magnetized to her refrigerator door. “Here’s my number and my email address.”

  Julie dug in her purse and produced one of her cards. “And here’s my information if you need to reach me.”

  As she walked Julie to the door, Jenny said, “I want you to know I’m not who you think I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just saying, I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. My friends talked me into going to church with them after all that happened, and I gave my life to Christ. I’m not sure I would’ve survived all of this without Him.”

  Julie stopped and covered Jenny’s hand with hers. “Jenny, I’m so happy for you.” She glanced at the child in her arms. “For both of you.”

  The tears gathering in Jenny’s eyes were different now. Her smile was different too. “It’s all good. It really is.”

  Making sure that Pierre still had his back to her, Julie leaned close and whispered quietly, “I’m so glad you kept your baby.”

  This time, Jenny beamed. “Me too. He’s my world, and the love of my life.”

  A few minutes later, Julie backed down the long driveway, elated over her visit with Jenny. Then, as she waited for a car to pass before backing onto the street, the car slowed to a stop and turned on its right blinker indicating its intent to turn in the same driveway.

  That’s when she noticed the make of the car.

  A Jeep.

  A blue Jeep.

  Matt’s Jeep.

  Chapter 20

  “You have GOT to be kidding me!”

  Matt could feel his blood pressure rising so rapidly, he half expected his head to explode right then and there. He’d pulled into the driveway behind her, turned off the ignition, and jumped from the car.

  Julie stepped out of hers. “I can explain! Matt, please just let me explain!”

  When he’d seen the car backing out of Jenny Gresham’s driveway, he noticed it looked similar to Julie’s. But there were thousands of black Altimas on the road these days, so he dismissed the thought—until he caught sight of the driver’
s blonde curls.

  If looks could kill, he’d just fired a laser-lock missile at Julie Parker.

  Matt fisted his hands then crossed his arms across his chest as a safety measure. Until he met her, he’d never had anger issues. Not even close. Suddenly, a vision of himself sitting in an anger management class flashed through his mind. There he was, one of the easiest-going guys on the planet, forced to learn how to curb his raging anger problems—all because of her!

  And here she was, smack-dab in the middle of his investigation. Again!

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, she was another step ahead of him. Again!

  “Julie! What are you doing here?” he growled through clenched teeth.

  She raised her hands in defense. “Matt, I know what you’re thinking—”

  “Oh, you have no idea what I’m thinking. I asked you a question, now answer me.”

  She straightened her spine and folded her arms across her chest like his. “Not until you calm down. I won’t talk to you like this.”

  He was shaking. Actually shaking with fury. “Would you prefer I snap some handcuffs on you for obstruction of justice and take you downtown for, oh, I don’t know—TEN TO TWENTY?”

  She jumped back, her face wide with fear. “Stop it, Matt! Just stop! I’ll be more than happy to answer your question, but you have got to stop YELLING AT ME!”

  He was fairly sure steam was shooting out his ears just like the cartoon characters he’d watched as a kid. Any moment now his head would explode in a thousand pieces. He stepped back and tried to rein in the heat firing through his body. He couldn’t stop shaking, which only made him madder.

  What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just stay out of his way and be true to her word? Maybe all that acting stuff had loosened a screw in her head and confused her as to which world was real—the imaginary life on stage or in front of the camera, or the living, breathing existence that brought her here to this driveway. How else could he explain her utter defiance of the promises she’d made to butt out of the investigation?

  He raked his hands through his hair and walked in a wide circle, trying again to regain his composure. He concentrated on slowing his breathing somewhere back to the vicinity of normal. He dipped his head down then brought it back up and stared at her.