1 3 7 – ZOË (22 page)

“Italy was an extenuating circumstance
.  I’m talking about his ethical practices,” he said, continuing our previous conversation.

“Why would you say something like that, Michael?”

“Because I know he’s involved with questionable people.  Did you know that he sells information for money?”

This news startled me and I hid my reaction by fumbling with the gallery keys. 
“What kind of information?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

“Any kind.  He and his
friends
- a crew of investigative reporters- go around looking for incriminating evidence to accuse major corporations of heinous crimes.  His team has been known to blackmail said corporations.”

My heart raced.  “Oh?”

“I caught him looking through my desk once,” Michael continued.  “That was the real reason why he and I fought and stopped speaking.  He was looking for ways to blackmail me, just as he blackmailed one of my colleagues.”

I met Michael’s eyes. 
“He blackmailed one of your colleagues?  Are you sure of this?  I mean, doesn’t Lance have plenty of money from your father’s estate and from the trust fund he inherited?”

“He does, but people are never happy with what they have, especially rich people
.  Don’t you know that by now?  Greed has led many to their downfall and Lance is no exception.  I have accepted him back into my life for your sake, because I know you’re fond of him.  But I’m watching him like a hawk, and you would do well to do the same.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,
” I said defensively.

Michael chuckled without mirth. 
“Oh, no?  Who do you think sold the story of your mother’s death to the tabloids?”

“No…”

Michael nodded with a gleam in his eye.  “Yes, princess.  Lance did.”

“Well, tonight’s visit had nothing to do wi
th conspiracies,” I said shakily.  I desperately wanted to end the conversation.

“I’m sorry I had to tell you such unpleasant information about Lance,” he said gently.  “I know how mu
ch you like him.”

“
Look, right now I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

My mind raced as I
started the engine of my Mercedes and pulled out onto the street.  Was Lance really an informant for the CIA or was he a common blackmailer?  If the latter was true, Michael had every reason to be wary.  I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the headlights of my husband’s car reflected in them. 

Why had
Lance divulged so much disturbing information in Italy? Was it really to warn me or was it merely to gain my trust in order to obtain more information?  Was he using me?  I could still taste the sweetness of his mouth and feel the warmth of his hard body against my own.  The thought of our kiss made me ache and I shifted in my seat.  I pulled up the drive and parked my car.  Michael unlocked the door and followed me up into our bedroom.  Once inside, he watched as I hung up my clothes and took off my shoes. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, coming to stand behind me as I sat at my vanity and brushed my hair.

His hands cupped my shoulders and he bent to kiss the back of my neck.  Disgusted by the memory of seeing him with Maria earlier, I flinched.

His eyes met mine in the mirror’s reflection.  “What is it, p
rincess?” he asked.

“I’m exhausted, Michael.  I
have a throbbing headache.”

“Of course, I understand
.  I’m going to work in my studio for a while.  Goodnight.”

Michael left the
bedroom, but I knew he wasn’t going to his office.  When I got out of my car, I noticed Maria’s car was still parked outside.  My husband would seek solace in the arms of his mistress tonight while I was left alone with my demons.

***

Colin Brady sat in front of the metal desk of his superior; a burly man in his mid fifties.  The brass name plate on the desk read:
Ted Marshall.
 

“The documents
look authentic,” Marshall said, holding Brady’s tablet in his hands and looking at the scans Lance had shared with him earlier.

“According to Ada
ms they’re originals.”

“And where did he find them?”

“Hidden and locked inside a trunk,” Brady explained.  “He still maintains his sister-in-law knows nothing.”

Marshall looked up.  “Do you believe him?”

“I do.”

“Have you ever met her
?”             

Brady shook his head. 
“No, but I’ve seen her from afar.  She works at the Ashford Gallery, and she’s quite a looker, I might add.”

Marsha
ll raised an eyebrow.  “Is Adams fucking her?”

“Don’t know.  Does it matter?
”

“Jus
t trying to figure out why he’s so bent on protecting her, that’s all.”

“Maybe because she really
is
innocent.”

Marshall nodded
pensively.  “I’m going to call Headquarters.  I’ll be in touch.”

Taking
it as a dismissal, Brady stood.  “There’s one more thing,” he said. Marshall looked up expectantly and Brady continued, “I promised Adams we’d give him the heads up before taking action against his brother.  He wants to be prepared.  He’s extremely concerned with his sister-in-law’s safety.”

“How much time did you promise him?”  

“Twenty-four hours.”

Marshall sighed. 
“Fair enough.”

***

I ran around the path in the park until my legs cramped.  I was so deeply engrossed in thought that I’d gone longer than usual.  The twilight sky was the color of ripe apricots and the horizon was bruised by plum clouds.  My wrist-phone buzzed.  It was Lance.

“Zoë!  Thank goodness you’re okay,” he said the moment I picked up.

“Hello,” I replied coolly.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday.  I’
ve been worried about you!”

I
looked out at the lake and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in the process.  “I’m fine,” I said, dropping my wrist.

“Zoë?  Are you there?”

I put my wrist up so he could see me again.  “I’m here.”

“What’
s going on?  I called you the morning after I stopped by the gallery and you never picked up.  I thought…well, with everything that you told me that night you can imagine what went through my head,” he explained.  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’
m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving,” I repeated.

His expression was a cross between joy and relief.  “You’ve made the right decision.  Leaving him will be hard, but I’m here for you, baby.”

I stared at him.  “No, I’m leaving D.C.,”  I said frostily.

He looked stricken. 
“What happened?  Did Michael hurt you?” he demanded, alarmed.

“There’s always something happening, isn’t there?
” I asked sarcastically.  “No, Michael has never laid a hand on me.”

“Okay, I need to know what’s going on,” he said, gesturing with his free hand.  “Where are you?  I’m
going to meet you right now so we can talk.”

“Why?  So you can get
more information from me?” I snapped angrily.

His face fell so dramatically it was almost comical. 
“What are you talking about?” he asked, visibly hurt by the harsh accusation.

“That’s the real reason why you’re trying so hard to get close to me, isn’t it?  You want t
o get some juicy information and sell it to your little cohorts,” I blurted out.

He frowned in confusion. 
“Sell information?  What the hell are you talking about?”

“Kicking me- or rather
kissing m
e- while I’m down is pretty low, don’t you think?”

I had obviously offended him. 

“Where are you?” he asked in a serious tone while looking over my shoulder to see if he recognized my location.

I held my wrist closer to my face to block out the background. 
“Michael seems to know a few things about you, too.  Neither of you have been completely honest with me, so I came to a decision last night.”

He frowned.  “And what would that be?”

“I’m better off elsewhere- away from
both
of you.”             

The
fear in his eyes almost made me feel bad.  “Zoë, honey, please don’t do anything rash,” he pleaded.  “We need to talk…I have no idea what Michael told you, but I deserve the right to defend myself from whatever he’s accused me of.  I swear I have not lied to you about anything.”

At this point, I began to cry.  I wiped the tears
away with annoyance and placed the wrist-phone behind my back so he couldn’t see me.

“Zoë!  Don’t
do this…let me look at you.”  I obliged him and he added, “I want to swing by the house to talk to you before Michael comes home.”

“Michael left this morning on business.” 

“Good, I’ll be there in an hour.  Don’t go anywhere yet until you hear me out,” he urged.

“I want
proof
,” I insisted.  “Proof of Michael’s involvement with terrorists, proof that you’re an informant for the CIA, proof of everything you’ve told me so far…I want to know which one of you is lying to me.”

“You got it.  I’ll bring proof, but are you sure you’re ready to hear the truth?”

Was I ready?
  “I am,” I assured.

“See you in an hour,” he said and ended the call.

I stared at the blue screen for a full ten seconds before returning to my car.  My mind had been in turmoil since Michael told me about Lance selling information to tabloids.  I tried to discern which brother was the liar, and got so frustrated I decided I’d be better off alone.

I believed ev
erything Lance told me in Italy.  The other night in the gallery he kissed me with such tenderness, such passion, such
love
.  I was incapable of being objective now that my heart was involved.  Lance would have his chance- his only chance- tonight.  If he failed to provide real proof, then I was prepared to go abroad for a few months.  Maybe I’d invite Maddy to come with me. 

I drove home, took a shower and changed into a casual black jersey maxi
dress with straps.  It was a muggy evening.  I pulled my damp hair into a ponytail, put on a bit of mascara and lip gloss and went downstairs to make myself a drink.  I was anxious about meeting Lance alone; I didn’t trust my emotions.  An hour later, the doorbell rang.  When I opened the door I saw Lance with a serious look on his face, and standing behind him was a very muscular man sporting a military haircut.

“You wanted proof, so I’
m going to give you proof,” Lance said. “Zoë Adams, this is Colin Brady of the CIA.”

Brady flashed
his credentials.  I invited them both inside.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Brady,” I said, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Likewise.”

I hoped my nervousness didn’t show. 
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” I said.

“
I asked Brady to let you in on the truth and he agreed.  Before we proceed, you do realize this will change everything,” Lance said, looking at me with great intensity.

“He’s right,” Br
ady added.  “After we brief you there’s no turning back.  You’re not going to like what you hear, Mrs. Adams.  Are you sure you’re ready?”  I nodded and he added, “If you choose not to believe what I tell you, that’s your right.  You can continue to stand by your husband if you wish.  But I warn you, if he goes down, you’ll go down with him.”

I swallowed hard and looked at Lance who said, “We can leave right now if you want us to.”

“No, please stay.  I need to know what’s going on,” I said, annoyed that my voice shook.  “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Got any scotch?” Brady asked.

I nodded.  “Neat or on the rocks?”

“Neat,” he replied.

“Make that two,” Lance said.

After I got the drinks and settled into a chair facing both men, Brady took a sip of his scotch.  He cleared his throat and began to speak
.  “Mrs. Adams, we have been watching your husband for quite some time.”

“
We
as in the CIA,” I said, interrupting him.

“Yes,” Brady replied.  “
It was difficult for Lance to report to us after his falling out with Michael.  Because of you the brothers are reunited again and we have resumed our investigation.  The United States government thanks you for this service.”  He paused to gauge my reaction.  “Lance assured me you could be trusted.”

“I haven’t said a word about anythin
g,” I assured.  “When Lance first told me about my husband’s possible involvement with terrorists, I was shocked.  And I denied it, naturally.”