THE GREAT BETRAYAL (5 page)

“
Oh, I usually bring something, but yesterday a few of us went to the new Macaroni Grill. Why, is something special going on?”

“
No, no, I was just going to invite you to join Melanie, Shirley, and me. We work together in HR and go out most days. You’re free to join us anytime.”

Dawn smiled. “Aw, thanks, Leslie. That’s so nice of you. Where are you guys going today?”

“
We never know. Sometimes we don’t actually make up our minds until we get in the car!”

She joined the club. Dawn began lunching with the “HR gang,” as they’d been nicknamed by coworkers. She soon realized, as she got to know each woman, that of the three, Leslie Phillips was the most stable.

Melanie Burkis was the twenty-seven-year-old mother of four, whose boyfriend was currently serving a stiff sentence for turning their living room into a meth lab.

Shirley Wells was a thirty-two-year-old Cher wannabe who was engaged to husband number three after recently divorcing husband number two.

Leslie Phillips’s life was far less colorful. At twenty-four, she was single, lived with a roommate named Amber, had no children, and was “sort of” dating a guy named Paul who worked in IT.

It didn’t escape Dawn’s notice that aside from an occasional remark during polite conversation, Leslie was reserved about personal matters. So Dawn was quite surprised the afternoon Leslie put her on the spot—at least, that was how it felt—for the exact same thing.

They were at a table in Applebee’s waiting for their food in the middle of the lunchtime crowd. Melanie had just finished a rant about how her boyfriend called the house every night, which was sending their phone bill soaring through the roof. She was debating whether or not she should continue accepting the charges. After all, they’d long since run out of things to talk about.

“
So, Dawn,” Leslie began, sipping her Pepsi. “I remember you were getting married to this hunk when we were in school—looked like he could give Mike Tyson a run for his money! How’s the hubby?”

Up to that point she hadn’t shared very much about herself. Only that she had no children, and lived ten minutes away from C&C…nothing more. It had been all she could manage with virtual strangers.

“
Uh…” She hesitated. “Michael died. He was killed three years ago. Car accident.”

“
Oh, my God.” Melanie gasped.

“
Oh, you poor thing,” said Shirley, reaching for her hand.

Only Leslie said nothing. She just sat, staring at Dawn.

“
It’s okay, you guys. I’ve learned to live with it, and it’s gotten a lot easier to talk about him. I feel like I have an angel in heaven watching over me. My Michael.” She gave a warm smile.

Finally Leslie spoke. “You lost your husband?” Her tone was unusually low, and she was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Dawn nodded reassuringly. “Thanks. It
has
been rough, but as my mother reminds me: I’m still here. I am still very young, and life must go on. I’ll always have Michael in spirit.”

The waiter came with their lunches then. By the time he left—to Dawn’s relief—Leslie had prudently segued into another subject. But she’d definitely seen something in the other woman’s eyes.

What was it?

Dawn was glued to her desk one afternoon, diligently crunching numbers, when Leslie phoned from downstairs.

“How much do you pay for rent where you live?” When Dawn told her, she continued, “I’ve decided it’s time to get a place of my own. Amber’s driving me crazy. She’s got a different guy coming in every other night, and as time goes by the choices seem to be getting worse. Last night it was another one she met at the nightclub, and he was as drunk as a skunk. He absolutely reeked—stank up the entire apartment. Disgusting.”

Her roommate, Amber Mancini, was a working girl. She stripped at a club called Jiggles and seemed to think that dating all the paying customers completed her job description.

“I’ve had enough,” Leslie told Dawn. “I need my own abode.”

“It must be awfully hard to live like that, having strangers parade in and out of your house every day. The rent’s a bit on the high end at my place, but since I live alone I like having the security of the gates, and there’s an alarm in the apartment, washer/dryer, private entrances, et cetera. It’s really nice. Suits me fine.”

“It sounds great. I’m planning to pick up an apartment guide and drive around this weekend…” Leslie hesitated. “I’ll go by your complex first. Do you think you’ll be home? I could drop by before I leave…”

“Oh, sure.” She told her the apartment and building number and they hung up. Before returning to her ledgers, Dawn tapped her number two pencil on the desk, deep in thought. Thus far, though they’d established a comfort level with one another, their acquaintance had not yet ventured beyond the Crystal Clear realm.

Dawn had grown quite curious about Leslie in the weeks since they’d become reacquainted. Who exactly was the well-coifed and trendy Leslie Phillips, off the clock?

Chapter 9

“
Gee-whiz, sis. Must you buy
everything
in bulk?” Brenda Ross complained. “There’s, like, no more room in this pantry for anything.”

“But the stuff lasts longer,” Dawn replied, folding a plastic bag. “And I live to bargain-shop.”

The sisters had just finished putting away Dawn’s groceries. They often shopped together on Saturdays, and since Dawn’s place was on the way to hers, Brenda always stopped over to help her unpack. It was a routine that had started innocuously enough, but Dawn had always suspected there’d been a motive.

They—her mother and sister—felt a need to thread themselves into her life.

“
So, any plans for the evening?” asked Brenda, peeling a banana.

“
Umm. No, not really.” Putting away the rest of the grocery bags, Dawn joined her sister at the table and grabbed herself a banana. “A coworker of mine might be dropping by—Leslie. We had a class together back at PBCC, and now she works in HR at Crystal. I ran into her when I had my interview.” She took a bite. Then, with a mouthful, she continued. “She’s having problems with her roommate, so she’s shopping around for a new place. She might end up renting something here.”

“
Well, what’s she like? Is she someone you could live with? Why don’t the two of you room together? You’d both save a lot of money, splitting the rent and the bills…”

Dawn shook her head. “Nah, I’m managing fine on my own, I don’t want to deal with the hassles of, you know, sharing space with someone else. Besides…Michael’s still here.”

Brenda Ross, a gentle-faced mother of two with short dark hair and deep dimples, looked affectionately at her sister. “But that’s just it, Dawn. Maybe it’s time to…Maybe a roommate would be a good thing. Not to replace Michael’s presence, of course, but to provide some other human stimulation, some other company in the house.” She hesitated. “What do you think?”

Dawn glanced at the drawing of Michael that hung above her kitchen table. It was a caricature they had gotten when they’d visited Busch Gardens in Tampa Bay—only one week before he was killed. One week after their wedding. Boasting a ridiculously wide and exaggerated smile, the likeness was dressed in Levis and a red V-neck. His muscular physique had been comically condensed by the artist’s skillful pencil. His dark hair was cut short, buzz-style.

Dawn stared at the painting, her heart trembling. She looked over at Brenda. “No roommates,” she finally murmured.

“
Dawn…” Brenda sighed. “This can’t be healthy.”

She glanced up again, looking at Michael. “No roommates.”

Brenda was leaving just as Leslie Phillips arrived.

“Leslie, this is my sister, Brenda. Bren, this is Leslie from work.”

The ladies exchanged pleasantries before Brenda continued out the door. “Well, it was so nice meeting you, Leslie. Good luck on the apartment hunt.”

“Your sister seems so nice,” Leslie said, following Dawn into the kitchen and accepting a can of Coke.

“Oh, yeah, she’s the best. But I have noticed that she and my mom got
so
much nicer about three years ago…” Dawn chuckled. “Not sure if Michael’s death had anything to do with it.”

Leslie glanced around. “Is that him in all the pictures? Michael? He’s all over.”

“Oh, yeah. All over. I even have one in the car hanging from my rearview mirror, in my locker at the gym, et cetera. Keeping my angel visible at all times has helped me a great deal.”

“Well,” Leslie began brightly—perhaps a little too brightly—“I loved the apartment model they showed me here. This seems like a pretty quiet place, but would you like to drive around with me? Look at a couple others? I saw a few nice ones in the guide, and they looked pretty good, price-wise.”

“Sure,” replied Dawn, heading toward the hallway. “Just let me use the bathroom and grab my purse.”

By late afternoon they’d visited three apartment complexes around the perimeter of town before Leslie found a model in Palm Beach Gardens that she simply couldn’t refuse. The development was brand-new, the last two buildings undergoing the final touches of construction. It was called Solidity Isles.

With its colonial architecture, green stucco design, and beige trim, the complex was very attractive to drivers approaching from the palm tree-lined road.

Leslie chose a one-bedroom, one-and-a-half bath unit that had an attached garage, washer and dryer, and plenty, but plenty, of closet space. Her apartment would be in building seven (one of the two to be completed) and would be ready for occupancy in early February.

“
I’m going to give Amber notice,” Leslie told Dawn as they were walking back to the car. “Then I’ll buy my way out of the remaining portion of the lease.”

“
Will she be angry, do you think?”

Leslie snorted. “Hell, at this point, I really don’t care. She’s had plenty of warning, and I’m through beating up my gums. Let her get one of her countless strip-club patrons to walk her dog at night and help her foot the rent every month. I’m out of there.”

Chapter 10

They were heading to the Palm Beach Valley Mall in Leslie’s car, a late-model Toyota Celica, when it occurred to Dawn…

Leslie was an HR generalist, an entry-level position. As far as Dawn knew, they didn’t exactly break the bank with net pay. Still, Leslie Phillips seemed to have the finest of everything. New car. Designer clothes. Chic handbags. Stylish jewelry. And she’d just laid down a hefty deposit for a luxury apartment, complete with an attached garage. The rent was nearly double what Dawn was paying over at her place. And it didn’t even include water and sewage!

After leaving Solidity Isles, Leslie had suggested a visit to the mall, which, as luck would have it, was just a stone’s throw from the development.

Dawn glanced over at Leslie as she drove. How was she affording such a lush lifestyle? Did she work a second job? Have rich parents? Or perhaps her beau, Paul from the IT department, just happened to be an extremely generous lover? Maybe she just had lots of money saved?

Well, although her curiosity was piqued, Dawn decided against verbalizing her provocative questions, ever the diplomatic soul.

But even more than diplomacy
, she thought,
it’s simply none of my business.

“
Oh, this is too gorgeous! I wonder if they have it in solid colors…It’d look terrific in blue.”

They were in Saks Fifth Avenue, browsing the Michael Kors collection.

Leslie was walking around a blouse rack holding a shimmering, multicolored top—scoop-neck style, with three-quarter sleeves. She shuffled through the hangers.

“
Ah,” she said in satisfaction. “Found it in blue!”

“
That is a pretty one,” Dawn agreed. “Gonna try it on?”

“
Oh, no. I know my clothes—it’ll fit. I never waste time trying anything on…” She shuffled through the rack again. “Um. Now look at the green,” she said, lifting one from the rack. “Gorgeous, too, don’t you think? I think I have a pair of green sandals that would match this perfectly.”

“
So, go with the green, then,” said Dawn, pointing at it. “Both colors look great.”

“
Which one would you go for?”

Dawn looked back and forth between the two. “Hmm…I’d have to say the green. That jade really brings it alive…but the blue looks just as pretty also.”

“
Well, that settles it then. I have to get both. Thanks.” Smiling, Leslie turned toward the register, which was in the center of the clothing racks. She had both tops in tow.

Dawn hesitated before following her.
Goodness
. She was going to buy them both! Seeing as they were Michael Kors, Dawn wondered what they cost. Lifting the sleeve of one of the tops on the rack, Dawn eyeballed the tag: IRIDESCENT ITALIAN SILK BLOUSE: $450.00

Dawn’s fingers went limp. The tag slipped from her hand.