Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery (27 page)

“I might need this,” she said referring to the gun.

“We probably don’t have to worry about Plum anymore tonight,” I said, shamefully.

“I wasn’t talking about Plum,” she said and slammed the door again.

Reality began to sink into my throbbing head. I had cheated on Maggie, something I swore I would never do—this on the heels of the incident the other day with Patty. What the hell was wrong with me? I took my wedding vows very seriously. I’d been through a lot over the past nine days, but that was no excuse. A difficult experience does not justify immoral behavior. My thoughts went back to Dr. Whitley warning me about self-destructive behavior. She was right, but it was too late. I really was losing it—just like after Christine’s murder. But my situation was different this time. I had responsibilities—a marriage, a daughter, a career. I really needed to get a grip. Dear god, help me keep it together.

I went into my bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and shook out a couple of aspirin. What the hell. I shook out two more. My head was splitting, but I totally deserved it.

I’d never felt so ashamed in my life, and I could barely look at myself in the mirror. What would I do if Maggie ever found out? Things like this always have a way of coming back to bite you. In fact, this was exactly the kind of dirt I’d been very good at digging up while working at the Herald.

Oscar jumped down off his chair and followed me around as I pulled on a pair of blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms and checked the guesthouse doors. With my head up my ass, they could have all been standing wide open with an engraved invitation for Plum to waltz right in and do his customary hack job.

We went outside, so he could pee and see what the garden smelled like at three in the morning. He didn’t seem all that impressed, and the two of us shuffled back in and climbed into bed. I thought about Maggie. I would be devastated if she slept with one of the Chippendales. The thought of it made me sick.

All I could do now was make sure it never happened again. My solemn promise to myself didn’t help much, though. I wrapped my arms around Oscar like a security blanket. He had already forgiven me and snuggled up. But I would never forgive myself.

I wondered how Netter and Cox were doing in Lainie’s apartment. We would have heard something if Plum had attempted round two.

Several hours later, the sound of running water coaxed me from sleep. Lainie was up. The clock said 7:15, and I needed to drag myself out of bed, shower, and face the music.

When I finished dressing, I opened my bedroom door and walked into the living area. Lainie was standing by the large window looking toward the main house. She was wearing blue jeans and an ivory colored blouse.

“Hi,” I said softly.

She glanced at me and then stared back out the window again. “Hi.” She looked confused and remorseful, like she wasn’t sure what to do.

“Maybe we should talk,” I said.

She continued to look out the window as she spoke. “Look, Ben. There’s nothing to talk about. I know you’re happily married. It’s totally obvious you love your wife very much. I shouldn’t have let things get out of hand like they did.”

“I’m very, very sorry,” I said. “I just don’t know what happened last night.”

“Actually,” Lainie said, “I don’t think anything really happened last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember that you passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow … and I just drifted off … I think.” She paused momentarily. “But the issue is that something could have happened … and that’s a slap-in-the-face wakeup call to me.”

She sniffled once and backed up slightly. “Well,” she added. “One thing’s for sure. I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll check into a hotel.”

“No way, Lainie! I’m not giving that lunatic a chance to hurt you because of my idiocy.” She started to argue. “No!” I said firmly. “You’re staying here, and that’s the end of it! We now understand the situation, and we can deal with it.”

She looked at me warily, unsure. “Do you honestly think something like this won’t happen again?”

“Positive,” and I meant it. “I swear to god I won’t let it happen again.” We stood and just looked at each other for several moments. She never did answer, but I could tell from her deep sigh that she’d agreed to give it another night.

She looked at her watch. “I have to get to the task force meeting, but we need to stop for coffee, bad.”

I did my best Netter impression. “How about a quad venti super-doop skinny Austrian goat milk upside down mocha crappuccino?”

She finally broke a smile. “That’s better. Thank you, Ben.”

After throwing my golf clubs in the Jag’s trunk, we headed out to hunt for joe. Thirty-five minutes later, after cruising through a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru, I dropped Lainie off at the Cary PD. We agreed that I’d give her a call after my golf game with Marcus.

The Highlands Country Club was only about fifteen minutes away. I was surprised to see the parking lot only a quarter full as I hoisted my golf bag from the trunk and headed for the clubhouse.

Marcus was already there, and he looked like—a golfer.

“Nice duds,” I said.

We shook hands, and he took my bag. “Mine’s already in the cart.” He walked over to it and put my bag next to his. “You take this strap and feed it around the bag and through the handle, like this. Then you put it through here and close the lever.” He sounded like he was talking to a five-year-old. Well, if the shoe fits.

“Got it,” I nodded. It looked simple enough.

Marcus had already paid for both of us. I tried to pay him back, but he waved me off. We spent the next fifteen minutes putting balls on the practice green. It was one part of this little frolic where I didn’t think I looked too stupid. But that was not to last.

Finally, we headed for the first tee.

“It’s just the two of us today,” Marcus said.

“How’d you swing that?” I asked.

He grinned. “A fifty on the side will do it.” He showed me where the green was and pointed to the tee. “Okay, Ben. Show me how it’s done.”

I teed my ball, swung, and bounced it straight in front. But it was enough to make the fairway by a few yards.

“All right!” Marcus said. He grabbed his driver and stepped up to the tee. He drove his ball about two hundred sixty-five yards on the left side of the fairway. I whistled, impressed.

He put his club in his bag. “I gotta tell ya, Ben, with everything that’s been going on, I’m surprised you haven’t got that cannon with ya.”

We climbed into the cart and sat. “Who said I didn’t have it?”

He looked at me surprised.

I thumbed behind us. “It’s back there in the bag. I’d have it on now if I could swing a golf club while wearin’ that damn shoulder holster.”

The frolicking continued. I sucked, but I have to confess, it was fun. We finished the third hole, and Marcus drove us to the number four tee, looking up at the clear blue sky.

“God, what a day! Can I pick ‘em, or what?” He flipped open the scorecard. “So what were the damages back there? I had a five.”

I looked back at number three. “Frankly, I can’t remember whether it was thirteen or fourteen.”

Marcus chuckled. “I’ll give ya thirteen. Cause that’s the kind of generous guy I am.” He pointed to the sign by the tee. “This is a long one, Ben. Five hundred forty yards … dogleg to the right around those pine trees … and then another dogleg to the left.”

“The others weren’t long?” He grinned and didn’t answer.

He grabbed his driver and hit his usual drive about two hundred sixty yards to the left half of the fairway.

I hit my shot and was surprised to see it sail through the air. I spun around and looked at Marcus. “Did you see that? I must have hit that baby two hundred and seventy yards!”

He pointed to where the ball landed. “You know that’s out of bounds over there, right?”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I really creamed that son of a bitch! I think I like this game.” His expression read five-year-old.

“Tee up another one,” he said.

I pulled a second ball out of my pocket and teed it up. As I was setting up to take my swing, I said, “Okay, Marcus, I know there’s another reason we’re out here today. Cough it up.”

He came clean. “There’re three things I need to tell you. I think of it as the good, the bad, and the ugly. What do you want first?”

“Just get on with it.” I took my shot—bouncing straight ahead about eighty yards.

Marcus adjusted his shades. “Senator Mitchell is retiring at the end of his term and will not seek reelection.”

“And?”

“There’s a search committee for a replacement. They feel that Margaret, with her highly successful corporate experience, name recognition, and impeccable social standing in the community, would be an excellent candidate for the GOP. They’re looking for a more likable alternative to Harvey Richards, and Margaret being female also helps.”

“Aw, Jesus!” I said, deflated. “That’s all I need … Republican Senator Marshak. You know I’m a registered Democrat, right?”

He smiled and said, “I always had you figured for a damn donkey.

“Anyway, if this happens, there will be a lot expected of you in terms of campaigning and public appearances. The press will be following you around, looking for dirt. Is there any dirt to be found?”

Damn. I really didn’t want to answer that question. My silence caught Marcus’s attention.

Finally, I said, “Something happened when I was a teenager.”

“Are you referring to Christina Morgan? And your hospitalization?”

I gasped. “You know?”

“I know everything about you, Ben. When Margaret announced her intention to marry you, Nora had me check you out—she’s a mother, ya know.”

I was dumfounded. “No, it’s fine … really. It just surprises me. I didn’t think anybody knew.”

“Only Nora and me. But now I think it’s time that you tell Margaret.”

“Sure,” I said, nodding. I then thought it best to change the subject and omit my indiscretion with Lainie. “Okay, what else?”

“Margaret has asked me to prepare the legal documents necessary for you to adopt Julie.”

I looked at him, stunned. “What? She didn’t tell me about this. I don’t like it that she tells this stuff to you and doesn’t talk it over with me first.”

Marcus grinned. “That’s because I work for her, and I can’t get pissed and stomp off.”

“Okay, okay, I did that. But it felt like she didn’t trust me, like I wasn’t good enough.” I paused and admitted, “It hurt my feelings.”

“It wasn’t you she didn’t trust, Ben. She doesn’t trust herself. She’s madly in love with you, but she was also in love with David, and she’s still dealing with deep emotional wounds from that relationship. I can tell you she feels very bad about the way your adoption discussion went the other night. She’s afraid that now you think less of her.”

“I guess I was also being oversensitive. Thanks for explaining this.” I felt even worse now about my little episode with Lainie.

“So,” Marcus said. “Should I continue with the paperwork?”

“Yes, of course. I love Julie.”

We climbed in the cart, and Marcus drove to my ball. I hopped out and pulled a number three metal from my bag.

“What, pray tell, is the last thing?” I asked.

Marcus cleared his throat. “As you know, Margaret is the co-executor for the Marshak Family Trust. She doesn’t trust Katherine or Robert with the care of Julie and Nora … and even Roberta. When Henry died, his Marshak stock was awarded fifty percent to Nora, fifteen percent to each of the children, Margaret, Katherine and Robert, and the rest split between me and Roberta. Margaret and Nora are changing their wills to name you as the trustee for Julie until her thirtieth birthday in case something should happen to Margaret. Also, Margaret and I will both be petitioning the court to appoint you as our successor to be co-executor of the Marshak Family Trust in case something should happen to either of us.”

“The money! I knew it! The skunk finally crawls out of the woodpile. It’s always the damn money!” I fumed, and finally asked, “How much money are we talking about here?”

“Eight hundred forty-five million,” he said.

I was flabbergasted! “Eight hundred?” I asked loudly.

Marcus was enjoying this. “And forty-five … million.”

“No way! No fucking way!” I jabbed my finger at him. “And you go back and tell her that!”

“I ain’t tellin’ her shit. She’s
your
wife.”

“What?” I looked at him, astonished. “You’re afraid of her!”

He nodded vehemently. “Ya damn right I am. And so are you. Look, I love her like a daughter but she’s also my boss, and she rules with an iron fist. Look, Ben, you might as well just roll over and do it. Margaret always gets what she wants when it comes to the family business. As in
always
. Even when it looks like she might be losing, she still wins, because … well … you know … she brings out the secret weapon.”

“The secret weapon?”

“Yeah. You know what I’m talkin’ about. She’ll sit there steel-faced with her perfect posture and glare at the opposition until they give in. If it doesn’t work in the first meeting, she will continue to call follow-on meetings until the opposition is beaten down and exhausted.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. “Actually,” I said, “I’ve seen that look … a time or two.”

Marcus smiled sympathetically. “I figured,” he said. “Anyway, a few years ago, we had a special meeting with the board of directors where Margaret presented a plan to add two new stores, but the board didn’t want to do it. She was asking for a total of twenty million dollars to build a 103,000 square foot store in Charleston, and a 95,000 square foot store in Asheville. She argued with them for two hours, but they weren’t budging. Then she transformed into calm, silent steel and glared. I’m tellin’ ya, I never saw anything like it. I wanted to flag her attention and get her out of there as fast as I could, so she wouldn’t be mortified.”

“So what happened?”

“The board caved and approved the money … but they gave her twenty-five million, five million extra to cover
contingencies
. They would’ve done anything to get her out of there. As soon as they approved the project, she smiled sweetly and said, ‘Thank you, gentleman. I knew I could count on you,’ and walked out.”