Politics. Escorts. Blackmail. (20 page)

Sunday—March 18, 2012

T
he next day, tragically, Money’s trip home was cut short.

Her sister Midori had passed away on March 17, 2012, at the Kitano Hotel, the victim of a murder-suicide.

Money drove back to New York, while her parents flew together.

It was a long drive home for Money, almost nine hundred miles, and more than fifteen hours. Most of it was spent grieving in disbelief, her tears flowing so hard she could sometimes barely see the road and had to pull over. She prayed for someone to take the knife out of her heart. Her head pounded in pain. Her gut was tight. She felt the intense weight of guilt. She should’ve run a background check on that stalker freak Bailey Brenner. Then she would have found out that after he requested early discharge from the Navy to run for a New York congressional seat that he lost, he served time in prison for involuntary manslaughter. He had killed a man when his car went barreling through an intersection while he was chasing his ex-girlfriend, who had a protective order against him. He’d tortured his ex for two days in a motel in Florida until she managed to dial 911 on his cell phone. He was sentenced to ten years and had served only five before being released and moving to New York. He’d been spending the quarter-million dollars he’d inherited after his grandmother passed away.

Money couldn’t figure out why Midori would’ve lied about still seeing Bailey. The police weren’t sharing much with the family. In Money’s heart, she knew there had to be a reason why Midori would meet Bailey on the side. She vowed to find out on her own.

Money’s world was dark and lacked hope. She was filled with regret. The person who had called her the most since he found out was Virgil Daye. He was devastated. Nearly inconsolable. He had told Money that he and Midori were seeing each other again. That he’d bought a place near the water that he’d chosen with her in mind for them to have a future together. That she’d called that evening and left a voice mail telling him that she loved him. That he had sent her a text message that evening in reply, asking to see her later. Money cried with him over the phone, and felt for him, sensing his sincerity. She also felt kind of bad for judging him because of his plans to tap into Mayor Graves’s accounts. He asked her how she could’ve gotten her own sister into the business, and she admitted that she shouldn’t have. That she would have to live with that decision for the rest of her life.

Money felt that she had no one. Her father was even more distant now, blaming Midori’s death on her for setting Midori up with Bailey Brenner in the first place, even though Money had forbidden Midori from seeing him.

Mr. 31—Tyler Copeland—had dared not call since the heat was on. She just had to believe that maybe he’d do all that he could. And once again, Jamie would call when he wanted to and not answer when he didn’t want to.

After placing calls to him at least five times since she began her road trip home to New York, he finally called when she was almost home. She answered using the speakerphone as she drove. “What do you know about Midori seeing this psycho asshole, Bailey Brenner?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You have to be able to call someone. You were a sheriff, Jamie.”

“No one there talks to me. After the internal investigation when I was there, everyone cut me off. I was gonna ask you if the police told you and your parents anything else. You said a guest in the hotel heard them arguing and called hotel security, who found them. But I was thinking maybe your lawyer told you something.”

She explained, “I’m not even supposed to be out of the state. I just need to know how she connected with him. Jamie, I can’t take this. I just can’t. You hear about stupid-ass Johns killing women out there somewhere, but you think it will never hit home, killing you or your family. What in the hell am I going to do? How can I live with myself after this? I can’t.” She screamed out loud.

He yelled, “Money. Money, listen. You have to stop. Don’t do this to yourself. You’ve got to keep it together. There’s too much going on right now. You have to push all of that aside, no matter what else, and focus on Midori and her funeral. That’s it. She’d want you to be okay. You have to know that.”

“Dammit, Jamie.” Money began crying again and coughing like she could gag herself to death. Sharp pains in her stomach stabbed at her. She kept driving, kept crying, and Jamie kept on the phone with her until she arrived at her house, consoling her.

After they hung up, she took herself straight to bed and prayed that when she woke up, it all would be a dream.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

The funeral was at First Baptist Church in Manhattan, though Midori had never attended services there. She wasn’t one to go to church. Her mother had arranged everything according to her daughter’s wishes.

With Midori born in London, her mother had originally wanted her buried there. But it turned out Midori had drawn up a will only weeks prior to her death. She wanted to be buried in New York. In Manhattan. She made Money the beneficiary of her life insurance and also the executrix of her estate.

Money’s real father, sadomasochistic Jimmy, attended the funeral, but he still didn’t know he was Midori’s birth father. He attended as a friend of the family. He and Midori’s father, Arthur, had fallen out years ago about Jimmy having had sex with Midori, but they got past it, though their friendship was never the same.

Virgil and Money and Jamie and Kemba all sat in the same row as Money’s mother, heartbroken over not being able to talk to her daughter before she died, and Money’s stepfather, silent and even more distant with everyone but his wife. Leilani was a no-show. Jimmy sat in the very back.

Standing strong, Money spoke about her sister to the small crowd of a couple dozen people, mainly family and neighbors, including the man in drag Money had met the day she took Midori from the streets.

Money kept her sights on her mother and said, “My younger sister and I were born in London. We traveled a lot and went to many different schools, but we were always together. When we were young I made sure to try and keep her out of trouble, as she was very adventurous.

“I remember one time when she ditched school, and I couldn’t find her when it was time to walk home. Turned out she was at this ice cream shop, sitting with the old lady who had dementia. Midori waited with her after having the ice cream shop owner call the police because the lady couldn’t find her way home. My sister had a heart, she was always willing to forgive, she was beautiful, and she was too young to die.” She looked over at her sister’s shiny white casket with a spray of colorful wildflower variations, and she said with a shakiness to her voice, “I love you, Midori. God rest your soul, now you’re free. I’ll see you again. One day.”

As Money stepped down from the altar, she passed the closed casket with a tear in her eye as the song “Wildflower” by New Birth began. As the song continued, her tears geared up into full-on streams of sorrow and regret, for not saving her sister one last time.

Wednesday—March 28, 2012

I
n spite of all that had gone down with Midori’s death and Money’s pending trial, which kept getting put off due to the defense lawyer’s requests for continuations, Leilani kept her aim focused on making the most out of the attention. The media and the public were still curious about her and her past. It was her fifteen minutes of fame, and she was ready to milk it.

Today, it was
Access Hollywood
. They actually came to her home to set up for the interview. She sat tall, as if proud of her life’s accomplishments, basking in the attention. This time a male interviewer asked the questions for a special show they were doing on men of power.

With porcelain skin and perfect hair, Leilani was dressed in a short, low-cut plum dress, showing off her firm legs and looking proud.

They sat on her sofa as a room full of people looked on. The interviewer asked, “Are you amazed by all of the attention coming your way since the allegations against the escort service you worked for came to light?”

“I am.”

“I’m assuming you no longer work for Lip Service.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Did you quit?”

“Well, it was a contract gig, so the work stopped, and I suppose the contract basically, like, ended because of all that’s been going on. I had signed for another six months, and I guess you could say it technically expired.”

“So, you weren’t technically an employee, I suppose. Did you get a 1099?”

“Let’s just say I pay my taxes.”

“Got it. We understand you’ve been offered a job to write a sex column for
Climax
magazine.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to do a layout for them?”

“I am.”

“I see. Tell us. Is it true that nude photos surfaced that will hit the Internet soon? At least that’s what TMZ reported.”

She replied like it was no big deal. “Yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m doing a nude layout with
Climax
, so it’s not like I’m shy about showing my body. I don’t think
Climax
will be in competition with pictures I took years ago. They were taken with a digital camera. The
Climax
photos will be professional and beautiful. I’m not worried and I don’t think they are, either.”

“Who took the photos?”

“The same person who is releasing them. An ex-boyfriend I had while in Vegas. We broke up and, well, I guess this makes him feel like he’s getting me back for whatever. I don’t have time for him. I guess he got paid. At least I hope so.”

“There’s also rumors that you dated a top basketball player in the past who still plays for the Lakers. Is that true?”

She gave a nervous giggle that had a triumphant edge. “Yes. I dated a lot of athletes. I have a past like anyone else.”

“Would you tell us who it is?”

“No. I can’t. Sorry.”

“Okay. Why do you think everyone is so interested in you?”

“I think originally it was because I kind of shed so much light on a dark world that few get to see; the world of escorting with high-profile names associated with it. Plus, I don’t know, some say my looks are marketable. I guess some wonder how I ended up on the road I was on. I don’t consider it a bad road.”

“I also understand that there’s a sex tape out there as well.”

Leilani explained, “You have to understand, if I were a news anchor or politician, it would matter. But I’ve been a showgirl and a stripper. I worked in burlesque. My mother gave birth to me in jail, God rest her soul—she was drug addicted and arrested for prostitution. I watched my mom die from a drug overdose. Now people can add that up any way they want, but the bottom line is that a video or photos do nothing to damage me in any way. I’m not ashamed. I was dealt these cards in life. I’ve had to survive.”

“I understand. But is there really a video?”

“I don’t know. Like, he may have recorded me on his laptop or some other way. Nowadays, women need to be totally careful before they take their clothes off. I’m just telling you. I mean, you never know what device is in the room of anyone you’re with, your sweetheart or not. Honestly, nothing surprises me.”

“What direction are you going in now?”

“First is the
Climax
spread and the column for them.”

“Is it true that they offered you one million dollars?”

“I can’t say. What I can say is that I’m very happy about it.”

“You know, I’m wondering.” He gave a chuckle. “Maybe you should go into politics. Your answers say just enough to not say too much.”

She laughed out loud. “Oh no. That’s one direction I’ll never go in. Politics. Guaranteed.”

“Okay. So what else is going on with Leilani Sutton? Anything we missed?”

She sounded vague. “Well, like, I’m hearing from some people about doing some things. We’ll see.”

“Are you dating the owner of Strip Video in Las Vegas?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Will you move back to Vegas?”

“Probably.”

“And, are you thinking about doing work for Strip Video, his adult video company? Maybe porn movies? You said in one interview that your bedroom skills have been compared to Linda Lovelace.” He smiled like he was impressed.

She uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. “No. But I do have an offer to work for a female-owned video company. We’ll see. I will say I have some tips for people who are curious along those lines.”

He gave a look of curiosity. “Like what? I mean, if we can keep it clean, perhaps you could share maybe?”

“Well, for guys, I will say, stop pushing the woman’s head down, please. Most women really don’t like that.”

“Oh wow. Okay.” He looked around at the crew who looked at each other. “Dare I ask for another?”

“And to the women, totally concentrate on your breathing. Your viewers can keep up with me on ClimaxMagazine dot com for more info. The column is called ‘Sex-corting by Leilani.’”

“Clever. As in ‘escorting’?”

“Yes. It’s meant to be along the lines of someone, like, sort of talking you through or escorting you through sex topics. You know.”

“Clever. I think.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Okay. Last questions. What do you have to say to the critics who are upset that, as they put it, you’re getting so much attention stemming from a possibly illegal activity? Especially in the wake of one of your fellow escorts, Midori Moody, being killed during an apparent visit with a former Lip Service client. And considering that the owner of Lip Service is still under investigation with charges pending. And considering what Darrell Ellington and his family are having to face in terms of the allegations against him. Are you making money off of everyone’s misfortune?”

“What people don’t understand is that I totally didn’t ask for this. People came to me from the moment this story broke. I’m sorry for what everyone’s going through. I’d only met Ms. Moody a few times, but I pray that her family will stay strong. That’s one of the risks for women who play for pay. Women need to think twice, whether it’s streetwalking or the supposed high-class call girl. Women can find themselves in compromising situations with men. Our safety should be the priority, not the money. Actually, I hope to be able to help. I do think prostitution should be legalized. Certain states have legalized it and studies show they have fewer crimes against women.”

The host asked, “Don’t you think some will say you only stopped escorting once everything came unraveled? I mean, you haven’t admitted to sex for money, but your warnings might seem opportunistic to some. You must admit that.”

“No. I have stopped because I was meant to stop. It was time for me to move on. I don’t wish to go back. If my knowledge and experiences can help others who might think it’s glamorous, I want them to think again.”

“Sounds to me like you’re admitting to exchanging sex for money.”

“No. I’m not. I’ve been an escort. I’m just telling you about what’s going on out there.”

“Well, you do have a lot of knowledge about the business, I will say that, and interest in this case and your life has been tremendous. Your name is the number one search on Google right now. We’re all curious, I suppose. Hopefully some of this will shed light on the situation as to what escorting is and isn’t. Thanks for talking with us, Leilani.”

“Thank
you
.”

She had finally gotten what she wanted. Fame.