The Gideon Affair (35 page)

Enjoying that she seemed to be having the time of her life, he was picking up a signal that intrigued. What his father had always said was right—figuring out a woman was a lifelong project because when God gave out surprises, the ladies got the bonus pack. Just when you thought you’d seen it all, she busted out something new. In Paige’s case, it was a near constant commentary about families.

“Did you see that? Oooh, a family would love that.”

“This’d be great for families.”

“I’d bring a family here. Wouldn’t you?”

“They should do more to accommodate families.”

She was a broken record on the subject. What the hell was that all about? Did she want to start a family? He was confused but waiting for her to toss out more clues was also hella fun.

They were leaving Nellie’s Ice Cream Emporium, after sharing a double-scoop cone, on their way to check out a store selling cowgirl gear—oh, lord—when it happened.

“Um, excuse me, sir.”

Edward looked around for the voice and found a young boy. He was maybe eight or nine, standing next to Paige at a display of tourist brochures that she was busy stashing in her bag.

“What’s up, little man?”

“My brother thinks I’m crazy for asking, but you’re Sergeant Duke, aren’t you?”

Sergeant Duke. Oh, my fucking god. The action hero character that made him a superstar. The look of certainty on the kid’s face, mixed with unmistakable hero worship, gave him no choice.

“Yep, that’s me. But don’t tell everybody, okay, my dude? My gal and I are on vacation, and you know how girls are.” He rolled his eyes to include the kid in the off-hand slice of guy talk.

The boy smiled. “My mom makes dumb lists. Stuff we have to do. Does your girlfriend do that? I hate lists.”

Edward chuckled and shoved his hands in his pants. “Nah. Mostly she makes suggestions.”

The kid laughed. “My dad says there’s no such thing.”

“What do you mean? No such thing as a suggestion?” He liked where this was going. Never too early to start a boy off on the right track where women were concerned.

“Yeah. Says moms order, not suggest.”

A smile spread across his face. He looked at Paige, who was grinning and already rustling around in that bag of hers. They both knew where this was going.

“Hey,” the kid yelped. “Can I have a selfie?”

“Sure but do you have a phone? Aren’t you a little young for that?”

“No … but my brother does. Hang on!”

Keeping the grimace off his face proved difficult. Shit. And fuck. And shit again. Seconds later, the eager young boy returned with his brother, a taciturn-looking nerd-type sporting a NASA t-shirt and carrying an iPhone 6x.

“See, Shayne. I told you. It’s Sergeant Duke, and he said I could have a selfie. You take it and do it right.”

Well, looked like there was nothing to do but be this kid’s superhero. Edward dropped to his knee so his bulk didn’t overwhelm the youngster and threw an arm around the kid’s shoulder. With his free hand, he made the Sergeant Duke signature move, a clenched fist, and held it up for the picture.

Suitably impressed, Shayne snapped a couple of pictures until Paige moved in to their midst. She whispered, “All I found was the scratch pad from the last campground. It’ll have to do.”

“Okay, guys,” he drawled as the two kids freaked out over the selfies, “who wants an autograph?”

He scribbled a peace sign on the scratch pad, signed his name along with Duke’s initials, and handed each kid the souvenir. Another minute of thanks and the boys ran off. He looked at Paige, slid his sunglasses on, and shrugged. What could he do? Kids were always the exception.

Less than twelve hours later, the shit hit the fan.

Planning for two more days of sightseeing before heading to the Banning homestead, Paige was in heaven or at least in close proximity. She couldn’t have hoped for more than this time with Edward. In a way, going off alone as they had gave them a chance to experience what the future would be like. For a newly engaged couple, what could be more important?

There was life for them beyond Hollywood. She was sure of that. When it was time to put down roots and start a family, she didn’t imagine for a second that Southern California would be where they chose to live. It was exciting to think about what the future held.

The lodge where they were camping was a great big old thing with a restaurant and gift shop and a mini museum full of artifacts and memorabilia from the Wild West days. The place was crawling with families and her mind was ticking along on overdrive.

“Excuse me, Miss Turner?”

She was browsing the gift shop for souvenirs when the pleasant woman who checked them in approached her.

“A package came for you from Los Angeles. I have it at the front desk. Stop by on your way out, okay?”

A package? How was that possible? Carolyn knew where they were, but she hadn’t sent a text saying to expect anything. Everything had been going so well that she didn’t want to be Debbie Downer and immediately assume the worst just because something unexpected happened. But …

One hundred and forty-seven dollars and thirty-six cents of souvenir crap later, she made her way to the front desk of the lodge and tried not to react as if she was walking into an ambush.

The package turned out to be one of those padded envelopes, addressed to her with a return L.A. address that she knew at first glance was bogus. Ventura Boulevard was not part of Glendale. Nowhere close.

Balls. It looked like their off-the-radar adventure was dead in the water.

Hurrying back to Ass-Gard, she’d be alone ‘cause Edward was off riding ATVs with a bunch of snowbirds getting their rocky mountain fun times on. She stowed her purchases and then studied the plain brown mailer. The To/From addresses were on labels, so there was no handwriting to examine. Besides the obvious fiction of the return address, nothing was amiss.

Carefully slicing it open, she peered inside then upended the pouch on the table. A piece of paper and a flash drive fell out. Unease slithered along her spine.

She eyed the flash drive with suspicion. That couldn’t be good.

Snatching the paper, she unfolded it and started reading.

All of the blood rushed from her head to her feet. The notepaper drifted to the floor when her fingers got numb. There was a sound in her head and she had a hard time breathing.

Quick to recover—fury had a way of doing that—she grabbed the flash drive, stomped to her laptop, and sat down to watch.

By the end, she was speechless. Starting, freezing, stopping, and rewinding over and over, she memorized with a hypercritical eye every vile second, swiftly and decisively coming to a few conclusions of her own.

Rummaging about till she found her phone, she texted Edward and told him to get his butt back to the camper.

They needed to talk.

More than an hour had passed before she heard him coming through the door. Stomping the dirt off his boots outside, he climbed the stairs and scanned the camper in search of her.

“Are you all right?”

Always his first question; he checked to see how she was. He didn’t wait for an answer. The tension radiating from every wall and furnishing did that for her.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

A huge sigh ripped from her chest. She must have been holding her breath. Tell him what was wrong. Lord. She had so much to say about so many things that all those thoughts were falling all over each other making her mind a seesawing, jumbled pile of crap.

Wringing her hands, she pointed at her open laptop. “It’s not you.”

His face registered confusion. When he glanced at the computer, a menacing hiss was his only response. And then he slammed the lid on her laptop grumbling, “What the fuck are you watching that for?”

Bah. Paige was messing up big time. She was wound so tight that making sense was a challenge. She grabbed for the paper and handed it over. That’d explain a lot.

He was ashen after reading it. She knew how he felt.

“Edward, it’s not you. I don’t understand.” She shook her head trying to grasp the ramifications of what she knew. “Why haven’t you, I mean … that tattoo. Yeah, it’s similar but … it’s not you.”

“What am I supposed to do, Paige? Go on
Entertainment Tonight
and give the world a detailed tour of my junk? Point out all the finer aspects of whiskey-inspired genital ink?”

She snorted. This had been the problem all along. He was wrapped up in that one thing, knew there was no way to go public, and assumed a defensive posture because what else could he do.

But that was the thing. They could do plenty. Whoever went to the trouble of checking the code to find a time date stamp only proved the point. If it was really Phae in that reflection, she had some fast-talking to do.

“Sweetie, I’ve got this, okay?”

He exploded. “Oh, for god’s sake, Paige, this is a fucking nightmare. If this gets out, everyone will believe I was sleeping with a teenager and I got her a job in my next movie. Phae’s career will implode, and I’ll probably be looking at charges. That’s how this shit goes these days, right?”

It wouldn’t help if he blew a fuse. She cautiously pushed him onto the sofa, murmuring, “Edward, Edward, Edward … listen to me.”

He looked so … wounded. She’d been a fool for not watching the sex tape before now. The obvious had always been there—it just took till now to see it.

His face contorted with the emotions tearing him up. She snapped her fingers two inches from his nose. “Edward! Are you listening?” His answer was a hoarse grunt. Good enough.

“The tape isn’t a fake,” she announced but stuttered to a halt mid-sentence when a look of anger flashed on his face, so she hurried on. “And that’s going to end up being a good thing.”

“Excuse me?”

She suspected that anyone else would have just had their head ripped off.

“Okay, first of all … we need to get this thing to someone who knows about this stuff. Date markers and whatever else. I just watched that damn thing half a dozen times, and it’s definitely Phae in the reflection.”

“Do you hear what you’re saying?”

She chuckled. He glared. He still didn’t see.

“Sweetie, if the time date thing is for real, and it
is
Phae, there won’t be any need for the Banning Private Reserve to suffer further indignity. Your junk is in the clear, lover boy, because … where were we nineteen months ago? Huh? Think about it. Count on your fingers if you must, but there you have it. Do the math.”

She hummed lightly and crossed her arms, waiting. In a minute, he leaped to his feet.

“You’re a genius!”

Paige giggled. “That bonus check just keeps getting bigger and bigger. We were in New Zealand for months. And where did Phae grow up? Cincinnati? Case closed.”

He wrapped her in a huge hug. “Thank you.”

She would have liked that embrace to linger, but there were still issues to address. “I think someone might be following us.”

“I know. After that kid and the selfie thing happened, it was only a matter of time. Last night, when I stopped at the general store, I got a lot of looks and whispers.”

“We should stop dicking around then and head to your parents’ place.”

“I thought you wanted to fly to Texas first and do a quick turnaround with your folks?”

“True, but they’ll understand. Dad was looking forward to Padre Island. He’d much rather go on vacation than almost anything else.”

Edward’s expression shuttered. Why?

“Anyway,” she hurried on, “I’ll touch base with Mickey and put him on the forensic angle. He’ll dig that we found a way to shut this rumor down with facts.”

He asked the question that addressed the four-hundred-pound rotting corpse in the room. “Do you think Joann had anything to do with this?”

She’d already picked that train of thought to death. “Probably. Throwing an underage girl scandal your way seems a great duck and cover. Push some of the pressure she and Markus must be feeling with Alan in jail and the FBI breathing fire over everything.”

Edward looked around at their Ass-Gard chariot and got kind of melancholy. “This has been fun. I’ll be sorry to give our temporary home up.”

“Me, too.”’