Read Online Madam of Maple Court by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
Ads: Link
she had told her housekeeper that she'd have to cut her back to only one day a week. Pam didn't think she could or wanted to do the daily stuff herself, but she had little choice. She couldn't afford someone every day. The housekeeper told her she'd look for another job, but that her sister did day jobs.
She'd been putting things off, but she knew now that it was time to replace much of the furniture in the upstairs. She had no idea how to go about selling the furniture, and she wanted to be totally private about it. When she got home from her visit with Gary—she thought of him as Gary, not as "the detective"—she talked to Carlys, the woman who had sold her the pieces in the first place, and was delighted to discover that for a reasonable commission, the decorator would take care of disposing of the items and replacing them with drastically less expensive equivalents.
She and Carlys began upstairs and continued through the downstairs. They agreed on several more pieces that could go and that would raise significant cash. Pam was shocked to learn, for example, that a small pie crust table, one she didn't like and always bumped into, would sell for almost twenty-five thousand dollars. When she toted up what she could make, she was delighted to learn that, if Mark's budget figures were in the ballpark, the money she got from the downsizing, as she thought of it, would take care of her expenses for another year.
As she'd suspected, the landscapers weren't going to be as easy to downsize. She talked to the company representative and learned that most of the work they did was necessary to maintain the property. He was quite understanding and told her that even with his men doing only what was necessary, it would still cost a lot. This didn't seem to be a place where she could or should cut back. She had to keep the place in tip-top condition in case she was able to put it on the market.
Two days after their initial meeting, Gary Jannson called and asked her to meet him in his office late one Thursday afternoon. Thursday, she thought. Vin's charges to GF+Co were always on Thursdays.
She accepted Gary's offer of coffee, then they settled in the corner of his office on a small angular sofa. After the initial pleasantries, he said, "I don't know exactly how to tell you this, but I discovered that CF+Co is the billing name of a place called Club Fantasy, a very high-end fantasy fulfillment service. The money is routed through several shell corporations but eventually it can be traced it back to the business, a brownstone in the East Fifties." When she looked puzzled, he said, "It's an escort service that caters to very rich men with unfulfilled desires."
She processed, then blurted out, "You mean a whorehouse?"
She watched his shoulders rise and fall, then he nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."
"Vin spent two thousand dollars a week on a whore?" she spat.
Gary reached over and squeezed her hand. "That seems to be the situation. The place is very hush-hush and they keep a very low profile. They've had no trouble with the police in the five years they've been in business, possibly because they have customers who keep them below the radar. I don't know anything about what specific activities your husband was engaged in, but I can try to find out if you're sure you really want to know."
Pam hadn't heard anything after the words "escort service."
"It's a whorehouse?" That couldn't be. She and Vin had a great sex life. Didn't they? Pam tried to remember her sex life with her husband. It had started very hot. While they were dating they couldn't keep their hands off each other. If she were being honest, however, over the years they had been married, Vin had become less and less interested and she'd ceased caring. They had shared a king-sized bed until his death, but their lovemaking was sporadic at best, and plain vanilla when it did happen. It was probably because she couldn't conceive. Vin must have decided that there was no
She'd been putting things off, but she knew now that it was time to replace much of the furniture in the upstairs. She had no idea how to go about selling the furniture, and she wanted to be totally private about it. When she got home from her visit with Gary—she thought of him as Gary, not as "the detective"—she talked to Carlys, the woman who had sold her the pieces in the first place, and was delighted to discover that for a reasonable commission, the decorator would take care of disposing of the items and replacing them with drastically less expensive equivalents.
She and Carlys began upstairs and continued through the downstairs. They agreed on several more pieces that could go and that would raise significant cash. Pam was shocked to learn, for example, that a small pie crust table, one she didn't like and always bumped into, would sell for almost twenty-five thousand dollars. When she toted up what she could make, she was delighted to learn that, if Mark's budget figures were in the ballpark, the money she got from the downsizing, as she thought of it, would take care of her expenses for another year.
As she'd suspected, the landscapers weren't going to be as easy to downsize. She talked to the company representative and learned that most of the work they did was necessary to maintain the property. He was quite understanding and told her that even with his men doing only what was necessary, it would still cost a lot. This didn't seem to be a place where she could or should cut back. She had to keep the place in tip-top condition in case she was able to put it on the market.
Two days after their initial meeting, Gary Jannson called and asked her to meet him in his office late one Thursday afternoon. Thursday, she thought. Vin's charges to GF+Co were always on Thursdays.
She accepted Gary's offer of coffee, then they settled in the corner of his office on a small angular sofa. After the initial pleasantries, he said, "I don't know exactly how to tell you this, but I discovered that CF+Co is the billing name of a place called Club Fantasy, a very high-end fantasy fulfillment service. The money is routed through several shell corporations but eventually it can be traced it back to the business, a brownstone in the East Fifties." When she looked puzzled, he said, "It's an escort service that caters to very rich men with unfulfilled desires."
She processed, then blurted out, "You mean a whorehouse?"
She watched his shoulders rise and fall, then he nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."
"Vin spent two thousand dollars a week on a whore?" she spat.
Gary reached over and squeezed her hand. "That seems to be the situation. The place is very hush-hush and they keep a very low profile. They've had no trouble with the police in the five years they've been in business, possibly because they have customers who keep them below the radar. I don't know anything about what specific activities your husband was engaged in, but I can try to find out if you're sure you really want to know."
Pam hadn't heard anything after the words "escort service."
"It's a whorehouse?" That couldn't be. She and Vin had a great sex life. Didn't they? Pam tried to remember her sex life with her husband. It had started very hot. While they were dating they couldn't keep their hands off each other. If she were being honest, however, over the years they had been married, Vin had become less and less interested and she'd ceased caring. They had shared a king-sized bed until his death, but their lovemaking was sporadic at best, and plain vanilla when it did happen. It was probably because she couldn't conceive. Vin must have decided that there was no
Similar Books
