CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Stacey
“Mom, I don’t know,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure who made that video of me, the police are still looking.”
Virginia was silent for a moment.
“Are you sure there isn’t someone who hates you?” she asked. “Have you made enemies somewhere, maybe on the job? I’ve been working in banking for years baby, sometimes you have to trample other people to get to the top.”
That gave me moment for pause. There were a couple girls at work who were jealous, who’d love to cover my beat, but would they go to these lengths? After all, hiring someone to videotape me at my hotel room was pretty hardcore, there was a lot of gum-shoe involved.
“I don’t think so, Ma,” I said tiredly. “I’m not like you. I’m ambitious at work, but I’m not crazy. I’ve tried to keep good relationships with my co-workers, I don’t think someone would do that.”
“You never know,” Virginia warned, “it’s always the people you never expect.”
I nodded my head in agreement. We were sitting at home, the two-story house in White Plains. I’d come here for some relief, just to get away from the stress of the City, the unending public eye that dogged me everywhere now. It was nice being in the living room with its hopelessly outdated chintz furniture, the overstuffed sofas and worn coffee table oddly comforting.
Just then Gordon came in. He was the same, an older, smaller version of his sons, but still handsome, commanding even with his diminished stature.
“How are you Ana?” he boomed. “Peyton and Pax tell me you’re on speaking terms again.”
“Oh I’m good, they’re good,” I said mildly. Speaking terms was an understatement of course, but no need to get into it. The lines we’d crossed again and again were too much for any parent to know, too X-rated, too dangerous.
Besides, my steps and I had reached a good place. Pax and Peyton were helping with the investigation, hiring their own team of PIs, former cops, security, even PR spinmasters to manage the situation. We’d get to the bottom of this video somehow.
“Have the police reviewed the hotel tape?” asked Gordon casually. “I know it must be painful to watch, but the perp must have cased your room.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly, “but that’s the weird part. There were definitely cameras in the hallway but that footage is missing.”
That made my mom sit up.
“What do you mean ‘missing’?” she said with a frown. “Tape like that shouldn’t just disappear.
“That’s the thing, Mom,” I said slowly. “It shouldn’t because the cameras are going twenty-four hours a day, but the footage is gone,” I said simply. “There’s a missing reel in the archives and the hotel has no idea what happened to it.”
Virginia frowned.
“Odd,” she said slowly, “maybe if I put my people on it, we’ll get some answers.”
“No Mom,” I answered tiredly. “No need. The Atlanta PD are already on it, plus Pax and Peyton are helping out too.”
“Oh really?” asked Gordon with his eyebrows raised. “Helping, how so?”
For some reason I decided to be vague.
“Pax and Peyton just wanted to make sure everything is double-checked, all I’s dotted and T’s crossed,” I said. “So they’re sending their own team of folks to investigate.”
“And who would these people be?” asked Gordon curiously. “How do your brothers even know who to contact?”
How did they indeed? But football players with a ton of money had resources beyond the reach of the average man.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “But your sons are on it.”
“Hmph,” grunted Gordon. “I’m going to have to talk with them.”
“Stop it,” interrupted my mom, “Why are you fixating on your sons when it’s Stacey who’s hurting? And don’t call her Ana, she’s Stacey now.”
Both Gordon and I looked at her with surprise. Ever since their wedding, Virginia had fawned over her husband, it was always “Yes Gordy this, yes Gordy that,” so it was strange that she was suddenly angry. My stepdad looked surprised too. He was so used to having her at his beck and call that this was new.
But his face remained calm and he gave no indication that he’d heard my mom’s outburst.
“We care about you Ana, I mean Stacey,” he corrected himself. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Thanks Gordon,” cut in my mom coldly. “Your care is noted. I can take care of my daughter from here on out.”
And I turned to her again with wide eyes. This was so out of character I didn’t know what to think. After all, Virginia had moved us from Manhattan to White Plains five years ago, forcing me to transfer in the middle of senior year all so she could get hitched to this guy. Her sudden turnabout was surprising.
But their marriage troubles weren’t my business.
“Thanks Mom, thanks Gordon,” I said politely. “Trust me, Pax and Peyton are on it, they’re working with the police, with hotel security, with everyone to figure out this missing video thing. We’ll figure out who it is,” I said with a tired smile.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said slowly, “I’d like to take a nap. Mom, can I stay in my old room?”
“Of course baby, of course,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs reading.”
I shook my head.
“Mom, you guys should go out and do things, go to work, keep going with your regular lives,” I protested. “No reason for life to grind to a halt.”
“No honey, as long as you’re here I’m going to stick by you,” she said firmly. “If you’re in this house then I’m going to be too.”
And I gave her a puzzled look but shrugged my shoulders. It wasn’t like Virginia not to go into work, but she was a professional and could make her own decisions.
“Okay,” I said, already headed up the stairs, trudging with slow steps. “Don’t wait for me for dinner.”
“We will, honey,” called my mom, her voice wafting up after me. “We will.”
Did she mean they’d wait or wouldn’t wait? I didn’t know because my mind was so fuzzy, so tired, that I fell into bed, asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.