“Alright, but you don’t know exactly what happened to him. Correct?”
“Yes, but…” Drew felt deflated. “You aren’t saying you don’t believe me. Are you?”
“No, dear. It’s nothing to do with believing you or not. I’m in a business that requires more than just stories. We need corroboration like police reports and other witnesses. It’s important to have other people who can back up and substantiate what you are telling me. Please believe me when I tell you that I’m not dismissing you. Not at all. But when you are accusing powerful people of such serious crimes, I need verification. Right now, there isn’t even a police report.”
Drew wasn’t sure if she was being placated and talked down to. She asked what she should do next.
“I’m going to assign a reporter to start working on this. He’s very capable. His name is Dallas Brown, and he’s an old-school type reporter that has been around the block enough times to smell bullshit across town. Be totally honest with him about everything you can remember. Start writing things down now before you forget details. Times, dates, other people that can corroborate anything in your story. Get phone numbers and addresses, and don’t think anything is too inconsequential. Just write it all down. I’m going to get Brown on a plane down to Bristol. How can he get ahold of you?”
Drew thought about her phone. She knew she needed to replace it. “I’m going to have to call my parents for some help. I have no cash and no identification. I’ll have a new phone later today, I’m sure. I’ll just mention it to my mother. That’s not a problem. I’ll get my number moved to the new phone.” She gave Cindy Wells her cell number and her email address. Cindy told her that Dallas would be in touch and not to lose hope in the process.
“If it means anything to you, I accept what my sources tell me on face value. I am skeptical about everything too. I have to be. I’ve gotten this far by being fair but tough. I’m not personally judging you in any way. I’m simply looking for verifiable facts I can publish. I hope you stay focused, Drew. And be careful.”
Drew thought she sounded motherly and professional at the same time. She’d follow her advice. She ended the call and set down the phone. A wave of doubt, depression, and anxiety struck her. What had she gotten herself into?
Maybe I should call the Congressman and apologize? I’ll promise him I’ll be quiet. See if we can agree to bury this whole mess. But I’ll never be able to trust that I’m safe.
“You don’t have a Xanax, do you?” she asked Ben.
“No, sorry. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Diet Coke by any chance?”
“Sure.” Ben placed a Diet Pepsi on the table.
She looked at it and then at him.
“That’s not Diet Coke.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Men.” Drew rolled her eyes.
He offered to run out and buy her a real Diet Coke. She told him she wasn’t that much of a bitch, and she drank the Pepsi. She appreciated that he offered.
Ben asked if she wanted to talk about what the editor had told her.
“It is doubtful,” she mused, “that this story is going anywhere. It’s not like I took a secret video of the night I spent with the Congressman. I’m not that brazen of a hussy. I wish I had been. I don’t have any proof I had sex with him. It’s not like I kept a stained dress afterwards.”
“No, of course not. I believe you. But I see that you can’t just go on television and say you slept with a married politician. Everyone with an agenda would be doing it.”
“I know there’s evidence at the cabin. Bullet holes and damage. And Marc’s missing. But there is no way to tie that back to Boyd. There’s really no connection at all. Nobody is going to believe a blonde model who happens to look like she’s not even out of high school telling a wild story of being hunted down by a trained assassin hired by a respected Congressman. I’m not even sure I didn’t dream the whole thing up myself.”
“It seemed pretty real to me. When I picked you up last night, there was someone chasing you. I can verify that.”
“I hate to bring you into this. Really, if something happened…” She thought of Marc and started to softly cry.
Ben came over to her and gave her a hug. He told her how sorry he was. “I want to help.”
“What would your opinion of me be if I published those nudes? I mean, your honest thoughts? Don’t hold back. I want to hear the truth.”
“I’m no prude or self-righteous asshole. Really. I haven’t been to church since I was a kid.”
“Okay. But what if you… I mean, let’s say you were starting to date a girl. You really liked her, and you wanted her to meet your parents. And then you find out she’s got this potentially embarrassing secret. She posed nude for, let’s say Playboy, or online somewhere like Suicide Girls. She’s not an online hooker or a stripper. But still, it’s not like she’s modeling for the cover of Cosmo either. And it’s certainly racier than being in Maxim.”
“Yeah, I get it. I don’t know. I never really thought about it. I guess it might be kind of weird, but I wouldn’t hold it against her. I wouldn’t be outraged or anything. I guess I’d feel weird thinking about my friends and relatives checking her out. Wasn’t there some old Eighties song ‘My Baby is a Centerfold’ or something?”
Drew Googled it. “It’s ‘My Angel’, but yeah,” she said.
“You should do it, I think. But maybe a magazine like Maxim. You don’t have to be totally nude, right?”
“That’s true. But, oh boy, some of the pictures were really hot,” she teased. “You know you want to see them.”
“Awkward.”
Drew opened her email. There was the file. She considered sending the whole zip file to Ben, but she knew Marc hated his stuff going out before he’d had a chance to edit. Then again, he… She didn’t want to start crying again. She scanned her email to distract herself. She had an email from Jim Aguilar.
Hey Girl,
I hope Marc told you I was working on your shit. Nice work. Hey, listen, you know that project I was working on, that steampunk stuff we were talking about? I wanted to know, before I asked Marc about it, if you wouldn’t mind if I took a few of your shots for that? I’d be adding enough stuff that nobody could recognize you. I’d run them by you first. You could really help me out of a jam. A few of the poses work perfectly for these CGI backgrounds I’ve created.
We should get together and drink. It’s been too long.
~ Jim
P.S. You really look great. You have any idea where you are going to publish these? I have a few ideas. Have Lisa call me.
Drew thought about that. Maybe she should call her agent. Lisa Chung would at least be able to start thinking about good places to market the photos. This story would likely hit the press. Marc had talked about getting the media in a frenzy with her having an affair with the Congressman and then hiding out in the woods while the world went nuts trying to find her. Marc had said there was a Congressman this had happened to once. She asked Ben about it. “You ever hear of a story about a Congressman who was having an affair, and then the woman went missing? Apparently it created a huge media event. People were speculating that he may have killed her. Marc mentioned it to me.”
“No, never. But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Google it.”
She did. The name Chandra Levy came up. “Oh God. It’s a real story. This was kind of like Marc’s plan. Well, except for me actually ending up dead.”
“Crazy.” He was reading the Wikipedia page over her shoulder.
“Marc figured if I was missing and people started accusing Congressman Boyd, they’d investigate enough to push him into admitting the affair. He’d deny like crazy that he had anything to do with my disappearance, of course. Meanwhile, when the story was front and center on the news, Marc was planning on contacting my agent. He’d tell her I was hiding out and to start a bidding war on my nudes. God, can you imagine?
They’d be worth a good fortune.” She blushed. “I don’t mean because I’m like Marilyn Monroe. I mean…”
“I know what you mean. I don’t think you’re vain, honest. If anything, you’re too humble. Maybe we… I mean, maybe you can still make this work out for yourself. You should call your agent.”
“Alright. It can’t hurt to start the process. Maybe I should hitch a ride to Los Angeles with you. I’ll start a new life. We can share gas money.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
“Thanks, but I have things going on. Besides, this is still dangerous.”
Drew called her agent. She didn’t tell her everything, but she explained the gist of the situation. She asked her to remain secretive about it, and told her to contact Jim. They knew each other from some previous projects, and Drew trusted them both.
“I’ll get to work on this. Let’s talk in a week.”
“Well, that’s settled,” Drew told Ben. She was scanning her emails when a new one showed up from her father.
Drew,
I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. I’m sure we can work through this together. You, me, and your mother. You aren’t answering your phone. Where are you? Let’s call a truce. How about you go get a late lunch with your mom? She’s worried about you. So am I. We’ll work this out, but I can’t help you if you aren’t around.
Call right away, please?
Love you, Dad.
She read the email out loud to Ben. “What do you think?”
“Well, they are your parents. Maybe give them one more chance? I understand how hard it is to go against family. I’m not saying just give in to them, especially if they don’t believe you. But maybe, one more chance?”
Drew was silent.
“What could that hurt?” Ben asked.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
It is exactly the fear of revenge that motivates the deepest crimes...
~ Christopher Hitchens
It’s shameful to admit, but I think my daughter’s sex life endangered the free world. I hope I’m wrong, but terrorists don’t quit and must be exterminated. This is a simple fact.
~ Peter Stirling
Drew Stirling called her parents’ home number. Her mother answered.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. Drew tried not to sound cold and distant even though that was how she felt.
“Drew, honey.” Her mother spoke in a tone of voice that communicated a reminder that she had given birth to Drew. That she’d suffered. That Drew owed her something.
“Yes, Mom. I’m here. I got Dad’s email. I’m willing to talk.”
“That’s good, honey. We just want to help you.”
“I don’t have my phone. I need to replace it. I’m afraid to go back home right now. Maybe we can go pick up some clothes?” She normally hated it when her mother bought her things. It wasn’t like she didn’t have her own money in the bank.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come pick you up. We can go together. We’ll get whatever you need. Talk mother-to-daughter. Okay?”
“Sure, that would be nice.” Drew gave her mother the address and put down the phone.
“Hope this was the right decision,” she said more to herself than to Ben.
“I’m sure it’ll be okay. She’s your mother, after all. Flaws and all.”
“Ben. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m so glad to get to know you. I hope we can stay in touch. Maybe you really will come to California.”
“Maybe.”
Drew thought how strange it was that a crisis and working together could fast-track a relationship. She’d known Ben for less than a day, but they had talked so much and shared so much that she really felt like she’d known him for a long time. She felt a bit of sadness thinking about him leaving, but that was life. It was hard to plan a life around so much chaos.
You know a guy for years, and right after you sleep with him a crazy killer takes him out. Then you spend a few hours with a guy, and as you realize how great he is, you also realize he’s leaving the state and starting a new life.
Drew and Ben exchanged hugs and contact information. They promised each other that they’d stay in touch.
Drew waved goodbye to Ben as she got into her mother’s Cadillac. She leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks for picking me up, Mom.” Drew smiled at her. “It sucks not having a car.”
Her mother frowned. She hated the word sucks. More than once, Monica had accused Drew of using the word on purpose to annoy her. She was probably right.
They drove to the mall and didn’t start any serious discussion until after they’d bought Drew a new iPhone, several outfits, and three pairs of expensive shoes. They sat in the mall food court with a couple of iced teas. Monica Stirling looked at her daughter and frowned. “Your father is worried sick.”
“I know, Mom. But I’m not lying. That’s the thing. I wish it wasn’t true.”
“Honey. You’re going to have start taking responsibility for yourself. You can’t go around accusing a married man of raping you.”
“Mom! Rape? Who said anything about rape?”
“Well, certainly, you can’t expect me to believe you’d be attracted to him? He’s your father’s age.”
“He’s a handsome man, Mother. Surely you’ve noticed?”
Her mother blushed. She looked down and then sipped her tea.
Drew knew her mother was more complicated than she let on. Her mother lived under the shadow of a strong character. Peter Stirling had built his business and his life on principles he believed in: hard work, his word, honor, and integrity. He believed that a man’s job was a man’s job and his wife had her place. Drew was happy she hadn’t been born a son. She’d never have escaped his shadow. The fact that he’d partially rejected her turned out in the end to be the key to her freedom. She knew her mother was well cared for and would never lack any of the material things in life, but Drew was happy she had a different life than her mother.
“Drew, dear. You can’t expect people to believe that Congressman Boyd was trying to have you killed. Even if they believed the story about unfaithfulness and adultery, that’s a long way from believing he would hire mercenaries to kill a young woman to keep her quiet about it.”
“That’s the thing. He wasn’t trying to kill me for some crazy reason or because of sex. I accidentally picked up this thumb drive—”
“Yes, I know about that. Congressman Boyd told us about that mix-up. But that’s not a reason to kill someone. He’s a United States Congressman. He’s an old friend of your dad. Really, honey, it’s crazy. You see that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I see. But I’m promising you, I’m not lying.”
“Where’s this thumb drive?”
“Marc had it. He’s missing.”
“And you two up there in the woods. Were you doing anything? Some kind of drugs?”
Drew frowned.
“Don’t be insulted.”
Drew’s frown deepened.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s a fair question. Honestly, dear. Your father and I will get you help.”
Drew realized it was a losing cause. Her mother wasn’t going to accept her story. She’d have to talk to her father. “Mom, I need to go to the bank and get some cash. I have to cancel my credit cards and get a new bank card. At some point I’m going to have to get a new driver’s license. Shit. Can we go now?”
“Yes, honey, but please don’t swear when you’re with me.”
Drew knew her mother was disappointed with her. But she wasn’t going to placate her and pretend that none of this was real. She’d done that kind of thing when she was in her early twenties. Not now. Not ever again.
They finished the rest of Drew’s errands and pulled up to the house close to five.
“I’ll have dinner on at six. Let’s not have any more discussions about this until after dinner. I’ll speak to your father, too. L
et’s have a nice, friendly dinner. I love you.” Drew’s mother had domain over two areas of her marriage: the meals and entertainment. Her father would honor his wife’s request.
Drew kissed her on the cheek, she knew she’d have a couple hours of peace. She carried her bags up to her old room. Her room was close to what it had been when she moved out the year after high school. She knew her father was in his office. She’d let her mother talk to him uninterrupted. She knew he’d be debriefing her about their afternoon together. He wasn’t going to be happy. Drew laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Where did it all go? The years? Her childhood? Why did her mother stay? Some questions had no answers. They just were.
Dinner was served on china. The table was completely set. A pitcher of ice water and two kinds of iced tea were served. There was sweet tea, which her father liked, and green tea, which Drew liked. An opened bottle of Cabernet was breathing. A baked appetizer, mushroom caps stuffed with crab, had been served as well. Her mother set a table like she was running a restaurant. When Drew finished her salad her mother asked her to help bring in the main dishes from the kitchen. Her father, “As you well know,” she said, “doesn’t like salmon.” Drew joined her and went into the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble. I would have been fine with whatever Dad’s eating.”
“He’s having beef. I didn’t think you were eating beef.”
“I do on occasion. I’m just saying. You didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”
“It’s what I do. Now grab that.” She pointed to a dish. “Be careful, dear, it’s hot, and come along.”
They finished eating dinner and made small talk. They talked about the weather and next year’s vacation plans. The Stirlings were going on a river cruise in Europe. They always invited Drew and she always declined. It was sort of a tradition to ask her to come on a vacation they knew she didn’t want to attend.
Undressed To The Nines: A Thriller Novel (Drew Stirling Book 1) Page 21
