The Raping of Ava DeSantis Page 12

  ***

  All four were seated at the north end of a sixteen-person, carved mahogany dining room table fit for a royal estate. Miss Eloise was in the background, preparing to serve the meal.

  “I know, wasn’t he fabulous?” shared Michelle. “I tell him all the time that was born to be a TV talk show host.”

  Wesley smiled humbly. “Thanks, baby.”

  “Everyone’s talking about the case, Wesley, especially at church. Last night, we spent an entire hour exploring why some women are willing to subject themselves to public humiliation all in the name of money,” said Miriam. “It’s a new form of gold-digging.”

  “I’m not so sure the girl is lying,” added Thomas.

  Miriam puffed out her large, manufactured chest. “How can you say that, Thomas? Haven’t you been reading the papers? The girl was a prostitute before she became a paralegal. I think that’s enough cause for reasonable doubt.”

  Wesley shot Michelle a look that said: here we go again.

  “Well, whatever really happened will eventually come out.”

  Miriam smiled softly. “Lies can stay buried for years, Thomas. You know that.”

  Thomas sharpened his gaze. “The Honorable Walter F. George once said that the truth always comes to light in order to demolish those who stand in its way…And I, with all of my heart, believe this statement to be true.”

  Wesley was internally troubled by his words.

  “As you can see, your father is very fond of defense attorneys,” joked Miriam.

  “Well, I married you, didn’t I?” he replied.

  Michelle naively jumped into the crossfire. “You know, I still can’t figure out how you two ever hooked up, let alone stayed married for thirty-seven years?”

  Thomas and Miriam exchanged a look.

  “Opposites attract,” said Miriam.

  “Either that, or I’m a masochist at heart!” laughed Thomas.

  Michelle giggled again, as she always did after Thomas spoke. She genuinely loved him more than her own father: a thrice-divorced, drunken truck mechanic in Tifton, Georgia.

  “So how many days do we have before my beautiful baby arrives?” asked Thomas.

  “Technically three, but my doctor said that only ten percent of babies are actually born on their due date.”

  “Wesley was born on his due date, practically on the hour,” said Miriam.

  “Never met a Scarborough man who didn’t show up on time,” added Thomas.

  Wesley looked at Michelle’s large pink belly. “No pressure, little guy. No pressure.”

  Michelle crouched her eyebrows with sarcasm. “Yeah, right.”

  “So, have we decided on a name yet?” asked Thomas.

  “They said they wouldn’t announce the name until after the baby arrived,” interjected Miriam. “As I recall, Michelle’s family has some sort of…superstition about such things.”

  “Well, actually, we have a surprise for you both tonight.”

  Miriam and Thomas perked up.

  “A name?” asked Miriam.

  Michelle smiled. “Yes.”

  “Well, what is it?” begged Thomas.

  Wesley cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “We’re naming the baby…Thomas James Scarborough.” Thomas and Miriam erupted into pure joy.

  “We’ll call him T.J. for short,” added Michelle. “It was my idea.”

  “That’s wonderful!” added Miss Eloise. “Baby T.J.”

  Thomas leaned over to Wesley. “Now that’s what I wanted to name you, but of course your mother had other plans.”

  “I can’t wait to tell Aunt Mary,” said Miriam.

  Thomas pointed to Michelle’s belly. “Now I’ll save my monogramed dress shirts for the little one since we’ve got the same name.” He then stood up and raised his champagne glass full of whiskey. “A toast…to the arrival of the future heir of the Scarborough dynasty. May he be as smart as his grammy, as gorgeous as his momma, and have much better taste in furniture than his pappy!”

  Everyone laughed and toasted. “Here, here.”

  Miss Eloise served the first course of the meal: a bowl of white, creamy lobster bisque. Michelle licked her lips. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse and chase down the jockey!”

  Miriam reacted. “So have you thought about a plan yet to lose the baby weight?”

  Miss Eloise, still serving the soup, exchanged a look with Thomas.

  “No, not yet. I’m just worried about getting through labor first.”

  “Well, I lost all of my baby weight with Wesley the day after he was born.”

  Thomas reacted.

  “But then again I only gained about twelve pounds during my pregnancy. How much have you gained? Forty-five? Fifty?”

  “At my last appointment, twenty-five pounds.”

  Wesley was proud of Michelle for fibbing.

  “Twenty-five? I doubt that, sugar. I can see a difference every time we meet.”

  “Miriam,” said Thomas abruptly. “Eat your soup before it gets cold, darlin’.”

  Miriam ignored him. “Well, start thinking about it now because it’s very important that you start watching your figure again. You used to be a very attractive girl.”

  Michelle reacted shamefully. Wesley slowly angered.

  “A man like my son needs to have a beautiful, svelte wife by his side at all times. It’s very important for his public image.”

  Thomas dropped his spoon on the table. “Darlin’, why don’t we go into the kitchen and help Miss Eloise serve the next course.”

  “I prefer to stay here, Thomas.”

  “Come on, sweet cakes. Keep me company.”

  Wesley shot Thomas a look that said, thank you.

  “I’m not that hungry anyway.” Miriam begrudgingly threw her napkin on the table and exited the dining room. Thomas quickly followed.

  Wesley whispered to Michelle. “I’m sorry, baby. You deserve better than this.”

  Michelle became emotional. “No, she’s right. Your mother is always right.”

  ***

  Thomas and Miriam entered the kitchen. It was a gigantic, stainless steel commercial kitchen with equipment usually reserved for high-end restaurants. Miss Eloise stood by the triple-decker oven, waiting for her baked chicken to crisp before serving.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” said Miriam.

  “I’ll save my breath then,” replied Thomas.

  “I am so tired of you always trying to control what I do, what I say and how I say it. I can’t wait until that baby finally gets here!”

  “I’m counting down the days like Christmas myself.”

  Eloise smirked as she opened the top stove and checked on the chicken.

  “Can’t you see that Michelle has become an embarrassment to our family, Thomas? You and I both know Wesley can do better than her. She just needs to be reminded of that before she gets fat and makes a mockery of my son.”

  “You mean our son.”

  “He’s only yours by name, Thomas. And even that may be in question. Your dead sperm probably wasn’t even good enough to make him.”

  Thomas was unmoved by Miriam’s emotional spear, for this was not the first time she hinted that Wesley may not be his biological son. And in the back of his mind, he knew that this was indeed a possibility…The evidence? Miriam’s three-month affair with a twenty-year-old Swedish tennis instructor around the same time Wesley was conceived. Couple this with Thomas’ inability to father any other children since Wesley’s birth in 1970. But for the sake of all things, neither Miriam nor Thomas ever formally requested a DNA test. No, Heaven forbid. And for obvious reasons, they both made sure Wesley never suspected a thing.

  “Miriam, with all of the murderers, rapists and child molesters that have stepped into my courtroom over the years, I can honestly say that you are the coldest bitch I have ever laid eyes upon.”

  Miriam slapped Thomas hard across the face.

  “As soon as that baby arrives, I am going
to file. That means you only have a few days left to live in this house. I hope you’ve got your slaves starting to pack for you now.”

  Miriam shot Eloise a dirty look then exited the kitchen. After she left, Eloise and Thomas stood together, side by side near the stove in silence.

  “Remind me to not throw a party the day that woman dies,” said Eloise. “I wouldn’t want to see Jesus dancing in a conga line.”

  Thomas gave Eloise a serious look, then ruptured with laughter. “Well, hell. I sure would!” He mimicked dancing with an invisible conga line, right there in the kitchen.

  “Don’t mind her, sir. You’ll be a free man soon enough.”

  Thomas continued conga dancing by himself. “That’s right, I’ll be a free man. A free man? A free man!” Thomas pulled Eloise from the stove and conga danced her around the kitchen. “Yeah, baby, a free man! Whoo hoo!”

  Eloise laughed hysterically. “You so crazy.”

  Thomas stopped the dance, turned her around and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “But I’m sure as hell gonna miss you, Eloise!”

  “Please. You know I’m gonna come visit.”

  ***

  Later that evening, all four had returned to the dining room table, silently eating cheesecake and sipping coffee.

  The phone RANG loudly nearby. Miss Eloise answered it in the adjacent serving suite. “Scarborough residence…Yes, ma’am, this is, how can I help you?…No, I haven’t seen him this evening…” Miss Eloise shot Wesley a look of concern. “…May I ask who’s calling?”

  Wesley’s heart started beating like a bass drum. Fuck.

  “No, I’m sorry he’s not. You may want to try him at another number…Yes, ma’am, you too. Have a good night.” Eloise hung up the phone and shot Wesley another look.

  Wesley was worried. Seconds later, his cell phone RANG.

  The table noticed.

  “I hate those things, Wesley. Could you please turn it off at the table?” asked Miriam.

  “Yes, I’ll turn it off.”

  “Wait. What if it’s Lilly?” asked Michelle.

  The phone continued RINGING. Wesley quietly looked at the caller ID:

  Unknown Caller

  He debated letting the call go to voicemail, but since his staff often used disposable pre-paid cell phones during investigations, he answered it abruptly. “I’m having dinner right now. This better be good.”

  “Meet me at the club on Fourteenth and Belvedere,” said Ava on the other line in her deep voice laced with a mild New Jersey accent.

  “How did you get this number?”

  “Be there. Ten o’clock.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tonight.”

  The table now peered at Wesley for talking on the phone.

  “I hope your wife liked the gift basket I brought her today.”

  Wesley’s stomach sank to the floor. His pool blue eyes widened with fear.

  “Just wear something nice.”

  CLICK. Ava hung up the line.

  “Tonight? Wow. That’s late, Lilly, but I’ll be there,” said Wesley to the dial tone on the other side. “All right, see you then.” He quickly pressed END CALL and placed the phone down on the table.

  “What was that all about?” asked Miriam.

  “This Saffroy case. It’s eating us alive. I need to get back to the office tonight.”

  Michelle, sitting closest to Wesley, was devastated. She missed the first part of the conversation but overheard the loud dial tone while Wesley pretended to speak with Lilly. “Excuse me,” she said quietly as she rose from the table and headed to the bathroom nearby.

  Wesley and Miriam continued eating their cheesecake in silence while Thomas glared at Wesley.

  “So, Lilly calls your cell phone regularly?” asked Miriam.

  “Yes, she calls me day and night.”

  “Then why did you ask her how she found your number?” continued Miriam.

  Thomas looked at his son with severe disappointment.

  “I was being sarcastic, mother. Why are you always so damn critical?”

  “Because I raised you better than that,” she replied.

  “Yes, Miriam. You raised him to be just like you, a professional liar,” added Thomas. He moved his napkin from his lap and rose from the table. “Your wife is about to give birth any minute, boy. How could you be so stupid?”

  “What? I don’t understand?” replied Wesley.

  The air thickened in the room. Time appeared to stand still. “Son, you have no idea how much I would give up for a chance to start over with you.” He then walked away from the table and exited the dining room.

  Wesley cradled his head in his hands. “Shit.”

  Miriam continued picking at her dessert, shaking her head like a disappointed schoolmarm.

  ***

  Everyone but Thomas stood in the foyer saying good-bye.

  “Now, which way do I turn when I go through the hospital main entrance?” asked Miriam.

  “I can email you the instructions they gave me if you like,” replied Michelle.

  While they were speaking, Miss Eloise pulled Wesley aside. “Before you leave, let me show you what I’ve done with your old tennis trophies in the library right quick.” She shot him a look that said, come with me. Automatically, Wesley followed.

  When they arrived in the library, Eloise stopped and whispered: “You better do something about that crazy girl from college before your father finds out.”

  Wesley was stunned. “You know about her?”

  “Of course I know about her, Wesley. There ain’t nothin’ that goes on in this family that I don’t know about.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I know that.”

  “And you know that I been in this house raising your daddy since he was ten years old, and that I love him just as much as I love my own nephews.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And you know that it would tear his heart to pieces if he knew anything about you and that girl, and what we did after.”

  “He’d never speak to me again.”

  “You damn straight. Now out of nowhere, that girl is calling your momma, at least once a day, sometimes twice. And she’s refusing to talk to her. Pretty soon, your daddy is gonna start asking questions.”

  “Shit.”

  “You need to handle this, Wesley.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Find out what the hell she wants and give it to her so she’ll leave this family alone.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good. Now, go home and be a good husband to that beautiful bride of yours, and forget we even talked about this, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Miss Eloise gave Wesley a warm hug, beaming her wide gap-tooth smile to the sky…

  As Wesley stared into the book-lined abyss, unsure of what to do next.

  ***

  Wesley and Michelle did not speak for most of the drive home. There was no traffic, not even another car on the road. It was bizarrely empty for a usually busy weeknight in Buckhead. But tonight, it was so dark and silent that it felt as if the world had ended and just the two of them—still arguing—had survived.

  “Are you mad at me?” asked Michelle.

  “No. I just don’t want you talking to our neighbors.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “Like that woman who brought you the gift basket today? She’s trouble, Michelle. Stay away from her.”

  “You mean Ava?”

  Wesley was shocked. “She told you her name? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did tell you her name but you never listen to me! Remember I told you that her husband’s name is Wesley too? Ava and Wesley. I told you!”

  “Don’t say those names together.”

  Michelle was confused. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I just don’t want you talking to those people. Period.”

  Silence.


  Michelle started to cry…“I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed you by getting fat.”

  “What? Michelle, that’s not what I mean…”

  “I’ve always known that I’m not good enough for you, but now I just don’t know what to do about it,” Michele whined through her tears.

  “Stop that. You know not to listen to my mother! She just says stupid things. She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  Michelle turned her head away to look out the black window.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Michelle. And I am very proud to call you my wife.”

  “Then why don’t you want me talking to the neighbors?”

  “Because Ava is not our neighbor,” he thought on his feet. “She’s a reporter trying to take advantage of you to get information about me.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Well, it’s true…I saw her at the press conference on Monday.”

  “And how do you even know what she looks like?”

  Wesley was caught. “I mean, I know her name. I know who she is. She’s a reporter for some political website.”

  “Well, we can settle this right now.” Michelle unlocked her seatbelt, grabbed her pink Prada purse from the floor and began digging through it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “She gave me her cell phone number. I’ll call her right now so we can settle this once and for all…”

  “No!” Wesley yelled at the top of his lungs. “Don’t do that!”

  Michelle was stunned, literally frozen in place with her pink Prada purse held tightly in her grasp. Wesley had never yelled at her before. And to yell at her while she was in such a fragile condition was beyond comprehension.

  Her innocent face crumbled like a baby about to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Michelle, I don’t know. Maybe I am just being paranoid.”

  Michelle was too heartbroken to respond.

  “You’re right, I think I may have her mixed up with someone else. I’m just under so much pressure right now, I don’t even know half of what’s coming out of my mouth…I’m sorry, baby. I won’t bother you about this anymore.” He looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was nine thirty.

  “You’re getting paranoid, Wes, and it’s making me crazy,” she said like a disappointed child. “Please take some time off from this case. I need you to be strong for me in the delivery room…I’m scared.”

  Wesley turned onto their street. “I can’t take time off, Michelle. I wish I could, but I definitely can’t tonight.”