Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 01 - Spouse Trap (17 page)

THIRTY

“Okay, here’s the new deal—they caved to the full amount upfront. But in exchange, they want you to leave for Guam tomorrow morning. They’ve got you booked on an 8:26 departure out of LAX. You’ll be gone a total of nine days—”

“I thought it was only supposed to be seven.”

“You lose a day going. Guam is eighteen hours ahead of Pacific Time. Plus, it’ll take you almost seventeen hours to get there.” Her attorney ignored her moan. “It’s almost 6,100 miles from here, and there aren’t any non-stops. But once you get there it won’t be so bad. I’ve heard it’s actually a nice little island. Give you time to rest and regroup. But getting back to the settlement…I’m afraid the jewelry is a lost cause.”

“Those pieces were gifts to me. I want them back.”

“I understand. But according to Mr. Laird, they are no longer in your husband’s possession.”

“What does that mean?” Madeline asked irritably, though as the words left her mouth, she got the picture. Either Steven hocked them or they were used to romance his latest conquest. Barry let the question slide. Now that his fee had been set, there was no reason to drag this case out any longer than necessary.

“The other good news is they agreed to pay my fees, so you can put that in the plus column with the 500 grand.” Madeline swallowed her rancor with effort and tried to focus on what this settlement meant for her.

“So, how does all this work—the money and the plane tickets and all that?”

“You’ll need to sign the agreement, either here or in Laird’s office. It’s probably easier for you if you sign there, but if you feel more comfortable with me being present, then we can arrange for that to be done down here. As it stands, a cashier’s check will be ready by noon, along with the tickets. Just give his office a call and they’ll arrange a time for you to sign the paperwork. You’ll be given the check and the tickets then.”

“Does Steven have to be there when I sign?”

“No, unless you want him to be.”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I’ll make sure Laird knows that.”

“Thank you. Is that it?”

“That’s it. Laird will be shepherding the divorce through the Guam courts with a local attorney. You are to contact Laird’s office once you arrive and the representative will walk you through the process. You can call me anytime if you have questions. I advise you to spend the night down in L.A. in order to make your flight.”

“Well, sounds like it’s all final, then,” Madeline said. She felt dazed and hollow, but she didn’t really feel like everything was actually over. It had all happened too fast to feel real. Something was missing, like a goodbye or “I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked.

“That’s a question you have to ask yourself,” Barry said. “As your advocate, I can say that you are positioning yourself well, regardless of what happens with the criminal case, should you choose to pursue it. The beauty of this settlement is that it takes your life out of limbo, gives you a financial cushion and allows you to step back and decide what legal action you want to take. In other words, I don’t see this settlement as being anything but beneficial for you. If we had evidence against your husband in hand, that would be a different story.”

Though he had told her nothing new, she felt a little reassured hearing it again. She felt like she was about to step off a cliff; she had to at least be sure no one on her side was against her doing so.

Now that it was almost official, Madeline had to think pragmatically. She only had a few hours to prepare herself for the undoing of her marriage and the pilgrimage to Guam. She was grateful now that she only had a few bags of possessions to worry about. But she could hardly board an international flight with a couple carry-ons and assorted shopping bags. She grabbed the notepad and began another list:

Call Laird’s office

Buy suitcase

Call Mike

Arrange for a late check out

She became aware of acute hunger pains, but she was too keyed up to eat anything just yet. She had to dress and make herself presentable, then organize her things before she could think of venturing out of the room.

While piling the odd assortment of belongings she had in her possession on the bed for assessment, she called Mike. The grogginess in his voice made her check the time. Only 9 a.m. and she felt like she’d been awake for days.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked as she took the extravagant, unworn shoes out of their boxes and stuffed them in their protective bags.

“Uh…no…I’m awake, I think.”

“I hate to spring this on you, but can you put me up for the night?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” Mike said, sounding more alert and chipper at the prospect of seeing her so soon. “Hey, I was going to call you. I got a decent offer on your car. The guy’s very interested.”

“Great. You can tell me all about it when I get down there. Oh, do you think you could take me to LAX tomorrow morning? I’ve got an early flight. I probably need to be there by 6:30.”

“Now you’re pushing the friendship limits,” Mike said. She could tell he was delighted to be put out. “Where you headed?”

“Guam. I’ll explain everything when I get down there.”

Madeline sat in Mike’s Mercedes, staring at the cashier’s check for half a million dollars. She knew she was lucky to have gotten anything at all, considering the devious monster she had married. But the victory felt empty, and not because the settlement was far less than she should’ve gotten. She had been ejected from her beautiful life with a fat check as a consolation prize. She had failed to stay married to the only man she truly loved. But her biggest failure came from misjudging his character.

She dabbed at her weepy eyes, dismayed to find herself crying again. Over the last six days, she had vacillated between sobbing wretchedness and an insatiable desire for vengeance. She’d hoped the check would’ve put a finality to all that, but now she realized money had only given her comfort when she had no worries and no scars in need of healing. She had no idea where she’d find a cure for what ailed her now—a violated psyche and a broken heart.

As she left her bank, Burt’s phone rang.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Fine. I signed the divorce agreement and walked out with a cashier’s check and a roundtrip ticket to the middle of nowhere.”

“When do you leave for Guam?”

“Early tomorrow morning.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be leaving so soon,” Burt said. Madeline felt the first pangs of separation anxiety; her private investigator had become her protector and key ally. The 18-hour time difference was going to make it hard for them to stay in touch.

“It was part of the deal. Apparently, Steven can’t get rid of me fast enough.”

“I wouldn’t take it personally. Sociopaths never let anything or anyone stand in the way of what they want.” Madeline let out a sad sigh.

“For years I thought all he wanted was me.” She was sounding pathetic, even to her own ears. “You’ll have to forgive me for being so maudlin. It’s not like me. I’m usually all sunshine and laughter,” she said, her flippancy falling short of convincing.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve weathered this like a champ. Most people would be out of their minds with terror and grief by this point. You’re a lot sturdier than you look.” Madeline had to laugh at that.

“Thanks. You really cheered me up.”

“All in a day’s work,” Burt said. “Speaking of which, I better get back on the case. I’ll send you text messages to keep you updated on my progress while you’re away. You might want to turn off the sound when you go to bed so I don’t wake you up.”

“That’s a good point. Well…”

“Call me anytime—I mean it.”

“Thanks, Burt. Hopefully you won’t hear from me at all.”

THIRTY-ONE

“Jeeze, you’d think you were planning on staying there a year,” Mike chided her as he lugged her baggage over the threshold.

“This is all the stuff I had at the hotel. I had to take it with me—everything else is in storage.”

“You can leave some of it here,” Mike suggested, as they passed into his living room.

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. I’ve got a carry-on with nothing in it that I certainly don’t need to lug all the way to Guam. Wow, what a gorgeous place,” she said, stopping to take it all in. “You weren’t kidding—this is like a time capsule. I bet you have to beat the women off with a stick having a pad like this.”

Mike beamed at her praise. He was quite proud of his refined digs. They hinted at a more dignified side to his persona than his physical appearance suggested.

“Are all the units this nice?”

“They’re all sweet, but this is the manager’s unit. It’s 1,500 square feet of ’40s Hollywood glamor.”

“You’re a lucky bastard,” Madeline said as she took in the view of the courtyard fountain.

“Yeah, I know. Credit goes to my dad—he was smart enough to know value when he saw it. There are fifteen other units here—who knows when I might have an opening…” Madeline caught his meaning and smirked at the insinuation. “Rents are a little steep, but you can afford them now.”

“Thanks, but I can’t see myself living in L.A.”

“This is a great spot. Sometimes I forget I’m in the middle of tinsel town.” Madeline was clearly unmoved by his sales pitch. “Your room is over this way.” Mike stood aside and let her check out the guest suite. Now he knew she was impressed.

“If the manager’s unit ever becomes available, let me know,” she said.

“Ha, ha. There’s plenty of room for two here…” Madeline ignored him and fell backwards on the bed.

“Ugh,” she moaned, kicking off her shoes. “I can’t believe how long this day has been!”

“It’s not over yet. I’m going to take you out for the best high-end Mexican food you’ve ever had,” Mike said, as he flopped onto a chair in the corner of the room.

“Do they deliver?”

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” Madeline nodded weakly. Mike got up and slid onto the bed beside her. “I’ll take you there when you get back. I’ll run out and get us some Chinese or something in a bit.” Madeline closed her eyes. It felt so good to lie down, it hurt.

“Do you have any eggs?” she asked.

“Yeah. You want me to make one of my famous omelets? That sound good?” Madeline smiled at the thought of Mike’s spinach, cream cheese and green onion omelet. She’d forgotten how good simple food could be.

“What really sounds good is a stiff drink,” she said. Her eyes popped open at her faux pas. “Sorry,” she said, rolling on her side to face him.

“It’s okay. I don’t start frothing at the mouth when someone talks about booze. Why, I can even walk down the liquor aisle of the grocery store without breaking into a sweat.”

“I forgot for a second,” she said.

“I do too, occasionally. Don’t worry—I haven’t slipped up in four years.”

“Is it hard being sober?” Mike laughed.

“No harder than constantly apologizing to people. It’s my new normal. I have no problem hanging with it. And you shouldn’t feel like having an open container around is going to expose me to toxic fumes and drive me right back into the bottle. It’s not going to happen.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. What’s so funny?”

“You’ll never believe what I do on Tuesday nights.”

“What?” Madeline asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

“I tend bar at a little hole in the wall around the corner.”

“No way!”

“It’s true.”

“How can you do that?”

“You mean, does it violate the principles of sobriety, or how do I keep from drinking straight out of the bottle? Really, it’s like therapy for me. Every week I get reminded of how pathetic I used to be when I drank.” Madeline grinned and scooted closer to him. He slipped his arm under her neck and they lay there in companionable silence.

“You were the only person I could count on to help me,” she said. Mike kissed the side of her head.

“I’m glad I was here for you. Makes being sober worth it.” After a couple minutes passed, he asked, “Do you think we would’ve stayed together if I hadn’t been such a raging asshole?” Madeline rolled over to face him.

“That’s like asking me if I’d have married Steven knowing what a psychopath he is.” Realizing how harsh this sounded, she qualified her statement. “In other words, pointless.” Mike looked at her thoughtfully for a minute.

“Given what you know about both of us now, do you ever see yourself giving me a second try?” Madeline sat up and scooted away.

“I’m barely out of my first marital wipeout and you’re asking me a question like that? I’m not even divorced yet.”

“Yeah, but you will be soon,” Mike argued.

“Look, maybe it was a mistake to impose on you like this…” she said, swinging her legs off the bed.

“Hold on a sec…don’t be like that,” Mike said, reaching out to grab her arm, but she was too quick for him. “Come on, now—you’re starting to hurt my feelings.”

“Oh, please. You expect me to believe after all this time you’re ready to mix things up again?” Madeline barked, though she could hardly keep from laughing at the sight of Mike Delaney, lady killer, humbly submitting his heart to her. “And don’t expect me to believe you’re not already involved with someone, or several someones. I’m sure you had to do quite the tap dance to clear the decks for my arrival.” Mike’s sly smile betrayed him.

“Not true. I live a monk-like existence. I’m a changed man. Spend some time with me—you’ll see.”

“Ha! I bet if I opened your closet I’d find all sorts of evidence to the contrary.”

“Oh…did I tell you I perform in a transvestite bar every Wednesday?” Madeline laughed.

“Just as I figured. What did you tell them all, that you had a maiden aunt coming for a visit?”

“You know, this isn’t a very nice way to treat your host,” Mike said, almost managing to pull off a hurt look. “Is it really so farfetched for me to still have feelings for you?” After all the spoofing, this appeal caught Madeline off-guard.

“Okay, okay,” Mike relented. “I shouldn’t be hounding you in your vulnerable state. But I just have to know one thing…” Madeline braced herself. “Did you stop to fill up the Mercedes?” Madeline laughed, in spite of herself.

“See, I made you smile…” he teased her. “It’s a good thing I didn’t ask if you feel like getting lucky.”

“I’ve got to pee,” Madeline said, completely ignoring her host’s remarks. “Oh, this is so darling!” she said of the adjoining bathroom. “Did you do all this yourself—the decorating and everything?”

“Of course. What do you think I am—a tasteless slob?” he asked, rocking himself off the bed to stand vigil beside the bathroom door. “You never answered my question.”

“About getting lucky?” Mike heard the toilet flush and the sink water run.

“No, about the gas.”

“Oh, no—I didn’t even think of it,” she said as she came out of the bathroom. “Sorry.”

“New plan—I’m going to call in a pizza order, fill the car up with gas, and stop to get you a bottle of anything your heart desires. How does that sound? How about a nice Chianti to go with the sausage and meatball pizza, just like the old days…?”

“You’re my hero,” Madeline said, folding into his arms for a hug. The proximity had more of an effect on them than either was expecting. Madeline kissed him on the cheek, breaking the spell.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy. Just make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, Mike. You’re too good to me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said, treating her to one of his wicked smiles before disappearing out the door.