Her Perfect Revenge (29 page)

Maddie waved to her and Christina came over.

"I thought you'd like a change of pace from all that Havenwood glitz," Maddie greeted.

Christina laughed, "This place is so you, Maddie." She followed Maddie's example and sat down cross-legged opposite the older woman.

"It wasn't once, you know. I used to be queen of glitz. Now look at me. I'm sitting on the floor for my dinner."

"Do you ever miss your other life?"

"Sometimes, but I think I miss my son more. And I do miss being part of a family unit, even if the head of that unit was a stubborn, old mule named William Havenwood."

Christina laughed again, "I'm sure you two have quite a history together."

"Oh yes, we go way back; but it wasn't all bad. We did have some good times together."

"Would you ever consider getting back with him?" Christina dared to ask.

Maddie laughed. "I've thought about that alot lately but it was a bad divorce and I don't think William has ever forgiven me."

Christina's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Interesting response but you didn't really answer my question."

Maddie's gaze lowered. "Yes, I do love that old goat and if we could somehow work it out, I'd like to try again. Being away for five years and having had time to think about things… where we went wrong… yes…I can say I still love him. But sometimes, Christina, love is not enough, especially when you do mean things to each other and you don't have forgiveness."

Christina sighed, "Yes, William is very stubborn."

Maddie laughed, "And an asshole too; let's not forget that! But he's not all bad. He just has very definite ideas about how people should act and be. And he's been especially hard on our son… and rightly so, I might add. Bill was a real, spoiled little shit growing up. I'm his mother, so I can say that. And I can also say that I overindulged him and his father was too busy and ignored him… and the drinking got out of control."

"I know Bill's had a problem with that… since high school."

Maddie nodded. "Oh yeah, we sent him to several rehab programs when he was growing up and every time he came out, he went right back to his partying ways. I've been scared for his welfare for many years, Christina. I kept expecting the phone call where they'd tell me he'd gotten into a drunk driving accident or the one where they said he'd died of alcohol poisoning." Maddie involuntarily shivered. "Thank God he's now in recovery and stopped drinking."

Christina was shocked. "You know about his sobriety?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I? Bill tells me everything. He and I have always been open and honest with each other."

"But… he doesn't want to tell his father… he's very adamant about that."

Maddie nodded again, "It would make my son's life easier if William knew, I know that. But…" She shrugged her shoulders, "Men! They have their own ways of relating to each other, I guess."

"I guess." Christina was deep in thought. So Bill told his mom everything? What had he said about her—and him—and their phony marriage?

As if reading her thoughts, Maddie suddenly, patted Christina's hand. "My dear, my son has told me that he loves you very much and he's going to do what he can to make you happy. He said you were the one for him and he's so grateful to fate for bringing you into his life. You know, I've never seen him like this… so full of life… so hopeful for the future…so… in love."

Christina was skeptical. "He… told you all that?"

"Of course, he did. And I'm glad he's found you too. He needs an ally in that house and I know you're strong enough to stand up to William's controlling ways." She smiled at Christina before picking up the menu. "Now let's eat. They make a delicious tandoori chicken here."

And for the rest of the meal Maddie kept the conversation light. They talked about Christina's job as a photojournalist and Maddie's new life on the commune in Arizona. Maddie did not ask personal questions of her daughter-in-law-to-be nor did she put Christina on the spot about her relationship with Bill.

Christina was surprised about that. She'd come here tonight prepared to face an inquisition and it hadn't happened. These Havenwoods never did what you thought they were going to do!

In fact, Christina enjoyed herself so much with Maddie, that she felt a little sad and alot guilty that she was deceiving this sweet person into believing she would one day soon be her daughter-in-law.

On saying their good-byes, Maddie gave Christina a big hug and welcomed her into the family. And she said that she hoped this would be one of many wonderful meals they would share together now that Christina would be marrying her son.

Maddie was such a nice person! Too bad Bill wasn't more like her. No, he was more like his father—and just as devious, considering the hell he was putting her through this week.

But if Maddie thought her son was honest with her about everything then she was sadly mistaken. What was all that malarkey he had told her about being in love with Christina?

That wasn't being honest—that was called being a big, fat liar to your mother's face. In love with Christina, indeed! Guess he had to say that to keep the story going.

It was almost 8 p.m. at night and Christina was driving back to the mansion. Her cell phone rang and she saw it was Robert, the Streetwise reporter who was checking out the 1625 Shelley Ave warehouse for her.

"Hey, Robert," Christina answered her cell.

"Hi Christina, I've got some info for you about that warehouse."

"Great, shoot."

" First off, it's owned by some investment firm in the Cayman Islands."

"The Caymans?" That rang a bell with Christina. That's where Bill was going to take her for their honeymoon.

"Yeah, the Caymans are these small islands in the Caribbean that are notorious for anyone who wants to hide a paper trail for anything. Their banking system is as sophisticated and secretive as Switzerland's."

"Really?"

"Yup. And from what I've been able to piece together from the other small business owners on Shelley Ave, the only people who seem to use the warehouse are some sort of environmental group who meet there occasionally at midnight."

"Midnight? What kind of time is that to meet?"

"It's a perfect time if you want to keep a low profile."

An idea popped into Christina's head as her calculator brain was starting to put two and two together. "Robert, do you think this has anything to do with the GME group?"

"Why do you say that? Where did you get the address, Christina?"

"I can't say right now... not until I've checked things out myself but do you think it could be them?"

"Maybe; I don't know. The people I talked to didn't seem to know who they were except that they were environmental."

"Did you find out anything else?"

"No, that was it."

"Let me do some spying on my own and I'll let you know what I find out."

"Okay but be careful, Christina, it's not the best part of town."

"I will. Bye Robert."

She closed her phone and promptly made a U-turn with her car. Might as well go to her own apartment in the city and get her cameras ready—for a midnight stakeout.

As Christina drove, the thoughts raced in her head. Why did Bill have that address in his pocket? Was the environmental group that was meeting at the warehouse, GME? Was Bill having the place staked out for his father? And where did the Caymans fit into all this?

Hopefully, tonight she would find her answers.

Christina was parked half a block away from 1625 Shelley Ave and she had her zoom lens trained on the entrance. It was almost midnight now but, so far, no one had arrived. The street was deserted and quiet, as the area was mostly industrial and didn't have a lot of street traffic.

The clock ticked on—past midnight—past 12:30 a.m.—past 1a.m. but no one came.

Empty-handed, Christina drove back to the mansion but she was determined. She'd be back tomorrow night and the night after that—as long as it took to find out if this was a lead or a dead end. Either way she had to know.

* * *

He was being so nice to her that he was making her crazy. He still hadn't made any moves towards her—just that quiet, serial-killer politeness which he always showed her whenever they bumped into each other in the house. So, over the next few days, Christina spent little time at the mansion.

She'd taken on another assignment for the Magazine and during the day, she was busy photographing a new up and coming artist and at night, she was staking out the Shelley Ave. warehouse. By the time she'd get home, it would be after 2 a.m. and the house would be quiet.

And no sign of him—thank God.

* * *

Her wedding date was less than two weeks away and she still didn't have anything she could use to get herself out of this jam.

Part of her—the part that loved him—yearned to marry him. She wondered what it would be like to be his wife, to come home to him every day, to talk and laugh with him, to be with him, to make love to him and wake up in the mornings wrapped in his strong arms.

But the other part of her—the cool, rational part knew—that he didn't love her. And she couldn't stand to be tied to someone who only saw her as a means to an end for money.

She couldn't live like that. To always be so close to him and know that he didn't have any true feelings for her would eventually break her heart and her spirit.

And what about that little girl that she'd been all those years ago? The one who'd been so hurt and who'd had her life so drastically pulled from under her when he'd played his stupid prank on her? Christina had promised that little girl that she would make him pay somehow for what he'd done. Could she break a promise to herself?

It was true that she was a big girl now and saw things differently but she still felt the hurt at what he'd done to her.

She'd thought that getting revenge on him could erase that hurt but could it? Or would it make it worse? Was forgiveness the way to erase that pain instead? But could she forgive him?

No, not when he was being a bastard and forcing her into something she didn't want to do for his own selfish purposes.

No—she wouldn't marry a bastard.

All these thoughts ran through Christina's mind as she staked out the Shelley Ave warehouse for the fourth straight night in a row. She checked her watch. It was 11:35 p.m. and it looked like it was going to be another wasted evening with nothing to show for it.

Suddenly, a van pulled up to the curb in front of the building. From her position inside her parked car concealed half a block away, Christina quickly raised her camera with the zoom lens and began taking pictures. She took a photo of the van's license plate number, then furiously began snapping as five men piled out of the vehicle. They looked like a scruffy bunch—hippy types.

And Christina immediately recognized them all!

They were indeed members of the GME group that had been picketing outside the Fido Foods building. She knew all of those faces since she'd taken many pictures of them when she'd been on assignment for the magazine. And she even recognized Tommy, the one whom she'd spoken to.

Christina saw Tommy reach into the van and pull out what looked like a folded wheelchair. He unfolded it on the sidewalk, then went back into the van and carried someone out in his arms—another man—and carefully deposited him in the chair.

It was Jake Monroe!

Christina gasped, "Oh, my God, it's Jake!"

She continued to snap picture after picture. This was incredible!! Jake Monroe was associated with GME but why?

And did Bill know that his best friend was betraying him?

Suddenly, a Jaguar pulled up behind the van and she gasped, "Oh my God!"

It was him!

Christina was stunned! Jake Monroe wasn't stabbing his friend in the back. No, Bill Havenwood was part of GME and he was the one stabbing someone in the back—his father!

Christina kept taking all the pictures she could. She got pictures of Bill getting out of the Jag, of him shaking hands with the protesters and of them all high-fiving each other. It was clear that Bill was one of them. Suddenly, they all entered the warehouse and Christina lowered her camera.

"Checkmate, Bill Havenwood," she whispered to herself.

She had him!! And she wouldn't have to marry him. And she'd get her revenge for the past by showing these pictures to William.

In the span of five minutes, her whole world had tipped on its axis—as had his. But Christina didn't feel any joy or relief. She felt sad—sad that it was now finally all over.

Suddenly, she wasn't satisfied with what she had. She needed to know more. Why was he involved with them? What was this all about? And what was he thinking!!????

Christina stepped out of her car into the dark, deserted street and quickly made her way to the warehouse.

Approaching the building, she ducked into the narrow alleyway that ran along its side. A shiver went up her spine.

Crouching low, she crept to a window and carefully peered inside. The lights were on and everyone was seated on chairs—except Bill. He was standing in front of them, speaking but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

Christina's eyes roamed to the back of the warehouse and saw that a backdoor had been propped open. If she wanted to hear what was going on, she needed to get as close to that door as possible.

Crouching back down, she scooted along the wall until she reached the backyard that turned out to be a messy area filled with stacks of wooden crates piled on top of each other and a large trash bin.

Christina dashed to the trash bin and snuck behind it. From her vantage point, she was well concealed and could see into the warehouse through the open back door. And she could clearly hear what Bill was saying too.

"Everything's in place and his plan is going into effect as we speak," he was saying to the guys.

Then Christina heard Jake ask, "Do you know which detective firm he's using?"

"Websters & Lloyd," Bill responded.

"Man, they're good," Tommy added.

"Yeah, only the best for my old man," Bill smirked. "And if he's putting you guys under surveillance, then Jake and I can't come here anymore. We can't meet again until this heat dies down, and we'll have to be very careful about how we contact each other from now on. He may have your phones bugged, illegally of course."

Someone else piped up, "What about the money, Bill? How are you going to get it to us?"

"Yeah," Tommy added, "And the insider info you supply. You know we can't do without that?"

"Don't worry. I'll come up with a plan that Jake will somehow let you know about. As for the money, that'll start coming through the Caymans." Frustrated, Bill paced. "Instead of putting a stop to that damned oil spill, I should have known he'd hit us head on; so typical of him." Christina heard disappointment in his voice.

"Do you want to quit, Bill?" Jake said that.

"Hell no! I'll never quit." Everyone nodded in agreement and Bill continued, "I started this because he wouldn't listen and I'm going to keep going until he does."

Christina's mouth dropped open in shock. GME had been Bill's brainchild from the beginning? She hadn't expected that!

Tommy was now speaking, "What about his plan to plant spies inside our group. For God's sake, we can't screen people who want to join. That's not what we're about."

"I know," Bill agreed. He then expelled a frustrated breath as he exclaimed, "God—I can't have this thing blowing up in my face just before my wedding."

At the mention of the word 'wedding', Christina involuntarily brought her hand up to her mouth. As she did so, her elbow bumped one of the wooden crates and the entire stack fell over, making a loud, crashing noise. Squeaking with fright, she slinked deeper behind the trash bin as a dog in the distance started to bark. Paralyzed with fear, Christina held her breath.

She heard someone inside say in a panicky voice, "What was that?" and then she saw Bill appear at the open door, peering into the darkness. A light switch was turned on, illuminating the entire area.

Oh God, Christina thought, please don't let him find me! Please!

Bill stepped outside and approached the spot where the crates had fallen. Looking around, he waited for anything to breathe, for anything to move but all was quiet. He tapped one of the crates with his foot and suddenly another stack fell.

Frightened, Christina shut her eyes tight and covered her mouth to prevent any sounds from coming out. She then heard him walk closer to the trash bin—and closer to her hiding spot.

Oh no, he was going to find her and then—what?

The rest of the guys were watching Bill from the open door.

Christina heard Tommy say, "Forget it, Bill. It's nobody. Those crates are always falling and we're having this mess cleaned up next week."

"Yeah," another of the guys agreed. "Come back in and we'll finish up with our meeting."

With the excitement over, some of the guys disappeared back inside. Not quite convinced, Bill slowly walked back.

Reaching the open door, he glanced around one last time before shutting it with a strong thud. The light was switched off and pitch darkness once again enveloped the area.

Christina sighed with relief. Slowly standing up, she stealthily crept back along the side of the building and back to her car.

* * *

It was 4 a.m. in the morning and Christina was sitting at her kitchen table in her dumpy apartment, staring hard at the pictures she had taken tonight of Bill and the GME members.

Unbelievable!

Incredible!

Shocking!

GME had been started by Bill to fight William; and if William were to ever find out, it would spell the end for his son—wedding or no wedding.

To use William's own money against him—was a masterstroke of sheer genius and courage. Christina's opinion of Bill went up immeasurably as did her admiration for him. He was as good at games and deceptions as his father was, and that was saying alot.

And Bill was doing it for a good cause too—to heal the planet. That meant he had a good heart concealed somewhere in that handsome bastard's body of his and Christina admired that even more than his smarts.

After leaving the warehouse, Christina had driven to her apartment in the city to download and print up her pictures. She had then created another 'blackmail letter' but this one was addressed to William. With pasted, cutout letters from magazines, as she had done for Bill's letter previously, she created a 'letter' that stated "Every Caesar Has A Brutus – Look To The Son."

With the added pictures of Bill associating with GME, it clearly indicated that Bill was behind GME. She had then addressed a manila envelope to William at his office and stuffed the letter and pictures inside. She licked it shut and put stamps on it.

All Christina now had to do was mail it out—and all her problems would be solved. In one fell swoop, she wouldn't have to marry him—and she'd get her revenge, so why was she hesitating?

She propped the envelope against a drinking glass on the kitchen table and stared at it hard.

If she sent this to his father, Bill's world would crash down around him like hers had all those years ago. William would throw him out of the house and out of the money. It would destroy what father-son bond they had and cause a rift in their relationship that could never be healed. William was not a forgiving man; even Maddie had said so.

And it would be Christina's fault.

No—not quite. It wasn't Christina that had made Bill start GME. It wasn't Christina that had made him lie to his father, that had made him use his father's money to fund the protests that had caused their company share prices to fall—it wasn't Christina that had made him stab William in the back. But it would be Christina's fault if William were to find out about his son's betrayal. Could she go that far?

Yes—he was a bastard. And yes—he didn't love her but she loved him and in the end, she couldn't do it.

She still wasn't going to marry him though because he didn't love her and she had too much self-respect to ever tie herself into a situation like that. But she wouldn't be the one to tell William about his son. If she had to, she'd use the information she found out tonight to threaten Bill with if he refused to let her go—but no—she wouldn't be the one to tell his father.

Getting up, Christina suddenly had an overwhelming urge to go back to the mansion and sleep in her own bed there.

Funny, that place was beginning to feel more like home than this place was—even though it wouldn't be home for long.

She reached for her purse and left her apartment, leaving the sealed envelope addressed to William propped up on the kitchen table—against the drinking glass.