Chapter 33
Under the late August heat, Meredith pressed the doorbell and waited. She felt nervous. Sweat dripped between her breasts and she fought the urge to slide her hand down the v-neck of her silk top and wipe it off.
No one came to the door and she pressed the doorbell again. The house stood in a peaceful, tree-lined street in the Lincoln Park neighborhood. She watched two young mothers pass, pushing strollers. The sight did nothing to calm her nerves.
Meredith had texted Tess with the address of her destination and, while at the time it had seemed like a silly precaution, now, as the door opened and Thompson stood in front of her, she was happy she had done it.
“Meredith.” He stared at her with a mix of surprise and apprehension. “Why are you here?”
She couldn’t blame him for looking taken aback. In her purse, she had his business card with his home address written on the back. She had his phone number, too, but hadn’t called him to let him know she was coming. She had wanted to catch him by surprise, just like he had done to her.
“I’m here to finish the conversation you started.” As she spoke, she didn’t feel the confidence she tried to project.
“Come in.”
Meredith took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Thompson had been barefoot when he greeted her at the door. He couldn’t have looked more at ease in his jeans and white t-shirt, a strong contrast to the suit he had worn the day she discovered him sitting in her living room. He still had his arm in a cast and while she wanted to know what had happened, she didn’t want to appear overly invested.
He offered her a choice of coffee or wine. Even though it was only two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, Meredith went straight for the latter. It helped with the mantra she kept repeating in her head: You got this. You totally got this, Meredith.
“It’s time I hear your side of the story. But, just so you know, I don’t trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” she said.
“You’re straightforward. I appreciate that. And you’re a curious young woman, aren’t you?”
He wore a traditional-looking wedding band on his left hand and Meredith tried to remember if he’d had it on the day he stopped by her apartment.
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” she replied, taking in her surroundings.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but Thompson and Tatiana’s home felt comfortable and lived-in. She wasn’t fooled, though. Nothing under that roof had come from a garage sale. From the scuffed-up hardwood floor to the antique trunk in the corner, to the oatmeal curtains that so beautifully filtered the afternoon sun, there was only one price tag for all of it—expensive vintage. Remembering Tatiana’s criticism of how much Meredith spent on herself, she wondered what she would find if she looked inside Tatiana’s closet. By the décor of Tatiana’s home and the understated, yet wealthy appearance of the man sitting in front of her, Meredith figured it would be wall-to-wall designer.
“You look nervous.”
Meredith focused on Thompson. “Do you blame me?”
“You have nothing to fear. I came to you because I’m scared for my wife. Otherwise, I would have kept my distance.”
“My father told me that you and Pam went to college together. That you were the one that introduced them.”
“Yes. She was my girlfriend throughout undergrad.”
After watching them at the Art Institute of Chicago this didn’t surprise her. “Are you two sleeping together?”
“Set on protecting your father from his cheating, power-hungry wife?”
Meredith remained silent.
“We’re not,” Thompson clarified.
“Do Pam and Tatiana know each other?”
“As far I know, they’ve never met.”
“Is Pam aware that you and Tatiana frequent The Raven Room?”
Thompson hesitated. “Yes.”
“Does Pam go to the club as well?”
“Have you seen her there? Have you seen anyone you know there?”
“It’s a big place. Tatiana and Julian didn’t run into each other up until the day I went there with him.”
“That’s because Tatiana avoided him.”
“How did you and Tatiana get a membership?”
“I obtained access to the club because of Tatiana. And before you ask, I don’t know how she came to know about the club or how she got a membership. That’s something she always refused to share with me. I’m sure you have experienced the same with Julian.”
“He and I haven’t been married for ten years.”
“You’d be amazed at the things you are willing to do, or overlook, to make the person you love happy.”
“Is hitting them one of those things?”
“I have a temper. I’m not proud of it. I was lucky enough to grow up in an affluent home. Unfortunately, mixed with such affluence was the lesson that it’s normal for a husband to hit his wife.”
Meredith almost laughed. “Sounds like an excuse.”
“Not an excuse. Just an explanation.”
“I don’t understand why Tatiana would waste a decade of her life, her youth, on you.”
“Do you understand what true commitment is, Meredith? Loyalty?”
“Don’t patronize me.” His words made her think of Julian, but she was quick to put any thoughts of him aside. She took a sip of her wine. “Tell me how you two met.”
“At the time she was waitressing at Balzac’s, in the Loop. It’s since closed, but I used to go there every Friday night, after leaving the office. I’d go by myself to think. I had just gotten divorced from my first wife. We weren’t married long but it didn’t make the breakup any easier. Before I went through it myself I would always roll my eyes when I’d hear someone say that going though a divorce is similar to going through the death of a loved one.” Thompson’s expression changed and his voice lost its lighthearted tone. “Nothing changes your attitude about something faster than experiencing it yourself.”
“Let me guess, you then fucked the young waitress to alleviate your sorrow over your failed marriage?”
“Tatiana and I did end up fucking, but it took us a year to get there. We became friends. I would go as far as to say she became my best friend. She was pretty, but her personality is what set her apart. She was captivating.” He smiled. “She is captivating.”
“Now you think your wife is hiding with Julian and you want to make sure she’s OK.”
“Yes. I want to see her, talk to her. Julian is not the man you think he is.”
“You don’t know what I think of him.”
“I’m going to show you something that, hopefully, will motivate you to do the right thing.” Thompson fetched a laptop that was on the coffee table. “It infuriates me that I can’t do anything with it.”
A video began to play on the screen, showing two people in what looked like a bedroom. From the angle of the image, Meredith figured the camera must have be mounted on the wall, close to the ceiling, giving the watcher almost a bird’s-eye view of the bed in the center of the room. It didn’t take Meredith long to recognize the naked man. His large tattoo, which ran along his left arm, confirmed that it was indeed Julian. A younger-looking Julian.
“What’s this?” she asked.
Thompson raised the volume on the laptop. “Just watch.”
The young woman who was with Julian on the bed rolled over and Meredith got to see her face for the first time. The realization of who she was didn’t hit Meredith right away. It crept in slowly, flooding her mind with a mixture of surprise and dismay. Rebecca Glendon. She looked almost exactly like she did in the picture Meredith had found at her brother’s house. On white sheets that almost glowed under the lighting’s deep red hue, Julian moved behind Rebecca and Meredith heard the loud moan that escaped the young woman’s lips when Julian entered her. Meredith couldn’t look away. She knew exactly how Rebecca felt in that moment, to have all her senses heightened by the intense and swift sensation of taking all of him—of Julian, deep and unyielding, inside of her.
The sex unfolding on the screen intensified. Closing his hand on the front of her neck, Julian pulled Rebecca toward him, her back pressed to his chest. They continued to move together, with Julian’s free hand squeezing her breasts, then moving toward her stomach and continuing past her navel. Rebecca spread her legs wider in response. Fully open to Julian’s thrusts and his fingers, she started to pant.
The video began to have an effect on Meredith. Her body’s response didn’t surprise her. She felt her arousal seeping into the fabric of her lace underwear, and even if she weren’t completely engrossed by the footage, she wouldn’t have dared to look at Thompson. She felt his body only a few inches from hers; she smelled his cologne mixed with the warmth of his skin and the aroma of the red wine. For a brief second, she knew that if he touched her she wouldn’t rebut him. That realization scared her more than anything else since arriving in his house. What did that say about her, Meredith wondered.
At that point, Julian started to speak, explicit words, demands, pleas, so many of which Julian and Meredith had also said to each other to intensify each other’s pleasure, to make each other lose control. Meredith was about to stop the video when she heard Julian say one word that made her snap out of her erotic trance—Tatia. He called Rebecca Tatia. And he repeated it over and over again. Rebecca didn’t hesitate or stop him to ask why he called her by the name. She continued to match Julian’s movements with eagerness. Seemingly out of nowhere, Julian held a knife and he caressed Rebecca’s skin with the blade, over and over again, starting at her neck and then moving to her collarbone.
Simultaneously afraid and enthralled, Meredith watched on. Every time she heard Julian say Tatia’s name Meredith’s heart beat faster. Julian’s hand, the one holding the knife, returned to the side of Rebecca’s neck, and with no warning, blood started to ooze from a cut along the young woman’s collarbone, drip down her torso, and fall on the sheets. As Meredith gasped, Rebecca put both of her hands to her neck. Her eyes were wide open, fixated on empty space. She didn’t scream. She didn’t try to move away. Julian continued to thrust in and out of her and Meredith watched him orgasm as more blood covered the young woman’s body and soaked the bed. Meredith tasted the metallic tang of it in her own mouth. She almost gagged. Rebecca appeared lifeless as Julian held her in his arms. Meredith waited for Julian to do something, maybe scream, maybe try to help the young woman, but instead he just continued to hold Rebecca.
The video came to an abrupt end. Meredith didn’t speak and neither did Thompson. He eventually took the laptop away from her.
“Do you understand now why I’m worried for my wife? He’ll kill her.”
Meredith covered her face with her hands. “What do you want from me?”
“My wife.”
“Have you showed this video to the police?”
“I can’t. If I did I would be as good as dead.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“The organization protects Julian. I’m sure no one since has laid eyes on the woman we saw on that video. They are experts at disposing of their trash.”
Meredith reached for her wine and gulped it down. She needed it. Her throat felt so dry it hurt.
“I’m leaving.” She stood up so fast that she was surprised she didn’t stagger. Her fingers found her purse and she held it tightly.
“Meredith—”
“I want nothing to do with you,” she said, not letting him continue. “Stay the hell away from me.”
As she started to walk toward the front door her vision became blurry with tears. Suddenly, Meredith heard a loud, sharp cracking sound coming from behind her. She turned and saw Thompson standing, a hand pressed to his stomach. Red bloomed on his t-shirt. He had been shot. As she rushed up to him, she glanced around but didn’t see anyone else.
Thompson slumped to the floor. She kneeled by him, putting pressure on his stomach.
“You’ll be OK.” If she didn’t call an ambulance right away, Thompson would die. “You’ll be OK,” she repeated over and over again.
He gripped her arms.
“I need to call 9-1-1,” she said, her voice rushed. “I need to get help.”
“Meredith—” He looked past her with terror in his eyes.
She turned around and before she could see who now stood behind her, she felt a sharp, deep pain in the side of her head. She tried to remain upright but her vision blurred. She didn’t have a chance to cry out.