Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) (20 page)

“Hey Tom, there’s this other dream I’ve been having. A really strange one. I’m in the middle of this huge sandstorm and there is a cloud of red dust rolling above me. I’m holding onto a wooden door, I think it’s a room or maybe a house. Pretty sure I’m trying to get in and I can’t. I hear people calling my name but I can’t get to them. It’s creepy,” Cathy said making a desperate attempt to divert his attention from the past.

“Maybe it’s symbolic. You are the sandstorm and people are running to take cover from you. It’s like when you go to a hotel for an inspection, I bet they are terrified of you. Like earlier, the guy at the check-in counter when you arrived. he was ready to have a heart attack the way he was going,” Thomas said, as he felt Cathy elbow him.

Then, after a few moments of silence, he spoke again.

“Good try at changing the subject but I have one last question, for now. Remember, when you told me all that spy stuff, how do they find you? As in how do they know which hotel you’re at or that you haven’t run away?”

Cathy looked up at him and slowly fingered the blue pendant on her chain.

“It’s a tracking device, there were other options, fancy gadgets but I chose the pendant. Plus, I’m convinced someone very high up in MoonStar works with them, reports to them. I just can’t be sure who it is, yet.”

“Ah okay, now we can change the subject. It’s Christmas day Sweets, well its past 6:00 a.m. and since we’re up and rambling about kids and sandstorms, would you like your Christmas present?"

“Of course I would! Let’s go get something to eat as well,” Cathy said as she got out of bed.

“Mmmmm, let’s do something crazy. We could have wine, brownies and ice-cream for breakfast and then I could whip up a proper Christmas feast for the two of us, the Tom Tom way of course.”

He leaned over to kiss her, pulling her close and savouring the moment.

'One day all this mystery would end and all the complications would untangle,' he told himself. But until then, he would not allow her past to take her away from him. After all, she was the one who had brought up marriage. Maybe, she was ready.

“So am I getting that book collection I wanted or is it that glass chess set?” Cathy giggled, as she walked behind the sofa and reached for the red parcel she had hidden there, her present for him. It was the telephoto lens he had talked about for months.

Deep down, she knew the one thing he wanted the most was the one thing she could not give, all of her.

WASHINGTON DC, USA

February 2010

Formerly known as the District of Columbia, Washington DC was declared as the national capital for the United States of America in July 1790. Since then, it has been home to many historical events. One of the district’s most prominent historical disasters was the Burning of Washington on 24 August 1814 when British forces invaded the district and burnt most of the buildings including the White House. Rebuilding was a lengthy process and what the world sees as the current state of Washington DC was completed decades later in 1868.

Fires ravaged its streets again after the assassination of the prominent Dr. Martin Luther King with as many as four commercial streets suffering severe losses and not seeing complete restoration until after 1995. It is also believed that the devastation of 9/11 that hit the Twin Towers in New York was destined for Washington DC but passengers aboard United Airlines Flight 93 had fought the hijackers off and the plane had crashed in Pennsylvania instead.

At least seventy historical landmarks showcase the various stages of progress the district has made. Some of these landmarks include the Tidal Basin, an entire row of Cherry Blossom Trees gifted to the USA by Japan; the National Archives Building which securely houses the country’s Declaration of Independence and the Library of Congress, the largest library in the world with close to two hundred million books and reading materials.

The district continues to remain a canvas for various artistic expressions in the form of the National Symphony Orchestra, John F. Kennedy Centre for Performing Arts, the Warner Theatre, Arena Stage and Ford’s Theatre which also endures prominent tourist attraction for being the site where Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

Resident population in the district may be less than a million people but they enjoy a bustling night scene owing to numerous clubs, cafes and at least three hundred luxury properties located in various corners of the city.

It was at the Northwest corner of Washington DC, late one evening that Cathy stood in a guest room, looking out the window.

“You must be thinking I was stupid enough to have brought all of this on myself,” said the lady sitting on the sofa.

The woman's white silk blouse had a slight rip, her skirt had a huge wine stain and her hair, earlier tied in a French knot was now a mess. At fifty-four years of age, save for a few crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, she barely looked her years. This was Annabelle Rice. Until two hours ago, she had been one of the most popular marriage experts in town. A public speaker and best-selling author, she had organised hundreds of seminars filled with tips on staying happily married.

Each seminar cost an average of $1850 per person for a two hour session. Some couples viewed her sessions as a last resort to seek happiness in their marriage and saved for months before being able to afford the opportunities she offered to keep their marriages intact.

After spending their hard earned savings on her, finding out that her own marriage was nothing but a convenient agreement, disheartened some of her followers. And to find out further that her husband was actually being paid to stay married to her, drove at least one customer raging mad.

It had been past 9:00 p.m. when a small dinner crowd lingered at the main restaurant, The Arrows Lounge had started to receive more guests for evening cocktails and chatter could be heard all around the lobby area of MoonStar Washington DC.

Cathy and the property’s Front Office Manager, Erin were just about to start their dinner when they saw a woman throwing herself at Annabelle and wrestling her onto the floor. Much to their horror, plates and wine glasses shattered in all directions. Between stunned associates and guests, Security was summoned and the two women were separated.

While Annabelle was escorted to her suite, the other woman, Alice was taken to the Security office. She claimed that she and her husband had attended Annabelle’s sessions for the past three months and had spent more than $7,000 on Annabelle’s CDs, books, seminars and private counseling sessions.

While searching for additional material online, she had come across a YouTube video of Annabelle’s husband Colin picking up two college students at the West Flamingo Road in Vegas. Both girls sat in their car as he was seen talking to them, his head peering through the driver's side window, offering a clear view of his face. One of the girls recognised him as, "the husband of the lady my mom listens to".

Colin had responded to this statement with, “Oh, that old hag. I’m not her real husband. She pays me, I show up. Trust me, I don’t get any fringe benefits. Plus, she’s not even my type. But you and your friend here, now we can have some fun and it will be our little secret.”

Having already signed up for this week’s seminars held at MoonStar Washington DC, Alice had made her way to the property with the intention of confronting Annabelle about the video. However, she said she completely ‘lost it’ when she saw Annabelle sitting down to an expensive dinner, oblivious to the fact that her lies had been uncovered.

“All these years, even before Bill and I had started to see her, I hung on to every word that stupid woman said. My poor Bill had to work extra hours just so we could afford the sessions and then I find out, it’s all lies. And there she was, sitting her pretty ass in a fancy restaurant with her bloody Chanel bag and Gucci suit. I just lost control,” she cried to the Security officers who were trying to make sense of the situation.

Cathy moved away from the window and sat opposite Annabelle, contemplating the past two hours. After a quick update from Security and making sure that the guests at the restaurant were being attended to, she had come to the suite to check on Annabelle. She had found the speaker sitting on the sofa wearing the same clothes and gulping wine straight out the bottle.

When Cathy offered her a hot drink she had quipped, “No, I need to enjoy this moment. My happy days are finally over.”

Annabelle refused to press any charges against Alice and even promised reimbursement for the damages at the restaurant. While neither woman would be arrested, Cathy knew that Annabelle had plenty of explaining to do, for her own sake and for her customers.

“I’m not here to judge you and in my line of work, I completely understand how impressions are everything. But you will have to deal with this in the open, Ms. Rice,” Cathy said.

“Call me Annabelle,” she said and let out a loud cackling laugh.

She then cocked her head, looked at Cathy and continued, “That’s not even my real name, you know. Maria Tucci, your everyday Italian immigrant. That’s who I really am. My parents moved here in 1961 to the Italian Harlem after some relatives helped us with accommodation and other immigration issues. They wanted to provide a better life for their children, whatever that means. Very early on, I realized my distinctive features set me apart from the other girls and it was easy being a pretty face, wherever I went. I’m sure you know what that’s like Cathy, to get away with anything you want because of how you look?”

Cathy smiled, “You wouldn’t be the first person to use your looks to your advantage. It does make your job easier and sometimes a little harder.”

As Annabelle looked out the window, she gulped some more wine. “I had big dreams. I started auditioning for movie parts, soap operas, Broadway ... anything that would give me just one shot at fame. And the closest I ever got was playing an extra in a rucksack commercial. We had to walk on a train platform and say ‘Bandano rucksacks for any girl, for any occasion’. I was convinced that it was my big break. After more than a year of auditioning, I was a muddled mess of broken dreams, with an even bigger hole in my purse. This was my last chance to make some money on my own or I would have to head back to Papa’s shop cutting sausages and marrying Aldo, a greasy and ugly family choice. I would have rather dug a hole and buried myself.”

She paused and swallowed more wine, this time glancing at her clothes. She looked down at her hands, placed the bottle on the table and rubbed her hands together as if trying to remove an invisible stain.

“The director screamed ‘cut’ even before I could say my line. He said the clients didn’t want a foreign voice. In the end, the commercial wasn’t even aired. When I found out, I had my last $10 and I sat in a cafe licking my wounds. A well-to-do woman sat next to me, and she was crying her eyes out. When I asked her what was wrong she told me that she and her husband were going through a rough patch. We talked for the longest time. I told her everything I knew about keeping a marriage together. She was so grateful for the company and for what I had said that she slipped a $100 bill in my hand. A week later, she brought her friend for some advice. Again, I told them what I knew. Everything I knew was based on my parents’ marriage. Fifty-five years they were married and until the day my mother died a few years ago, my father still called her ‘his everything’. People were paying me to share the love story my parents had ... ‘what do I do when my husband does this’ or ‘how do I react when my wife says that’. When people asked me about my own marriage and my husband, I left out as many details as I could, always telling them that my husband was away, working on some big, secret project. I was on a Caribbean cruise this one time and that’s where I met Colin. He was a miserable drunk in desperate need of a job and this seemed easy enough for him or so I thought,” she poured out her situation to Cathy.

“I know it seems like I’m prying but just out of curiosity, did you really think you could pull it off? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell people this was not your story?” Cathy asked.

“You naïve child. And you call yourself a media person! Do you seriously think I would have been this successful? Would you have paid for a marriage seminar from an unmarried marriage expert? It’s hard to explain, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“And it’s hard for your customers to understand the deception.”

“Is this your polite way of kicking me out, Cathy? Telling me that MoonStar does not want to be associated with me?”

“Not at all, Ms. Rice. You’re more than welcome to stay at any of our properties. But as someone that works with people on a daily basis, I would recommend that you tell them everything you told me. You would be surprised what people can accept."

“People are foolish. They only think they want the truth. Dress a lie up in an expensive suit, call it the truth and they’ll never recognise it for what it is. I have to get ready now. Clean myself up and whip up a press conference. If anything there will be more publicity after this incident and I have to be ready.”

“So, you’ll be telling them?”

“Not on your life. And if you repeat anything I have just told you, I’ll sue you and all of MoonStar, just you wait and see,” Annabelle shot back.