Love With A Stranger Read online

  Cass decided that Peter’s conclusions were credible about using a beautiful model to advertise beef products from his San Antonio ranch and company, or his seafood company in nearby Brunswick, or his golf cart company in Augusta, Georgia. Tom also had an electronics firm in Brunswick, Big-G Real Estate in New York City, A Taste Of Heaven restaurant, and A View Of Heaven art galley in Aspen, an import/export company in Los Angeles, and small investments in other men’s companies. She had seen ads and commercials for those businesses in the past, and always with beautiful half-clad women in them. “Is that what she said to the detectives?”

  “They didn’t say, but I told them what I just told you.”

  “How did they know Miss Lowrey had flown in with Tom?”

  “Dad’s pilot told them when he was questioned Tuesday morning before we left for LA. From what I gathered from those detectives, they went to see Miss Lowrey that evening. Obviously they didn’t find anything suspicious about her because they let her leave town on Wednesday.”

  Cass wondered why Peter hadn’t mentioned the woman to her, as the pilot must have told Peter about her on Tuesday. “Taking her to the Embassy Suites explains what he was doing on the highway so late at night and in the opposite direction from the airport to home, but Beals thought it was odd I was in bed when Tom was on his way home.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Cass; you told them the truth. I suppose he got busy and forgot to phone you about his change in plans.”

  Cass took a deep breath before she asked Peter, “You don’t think Tom was…murdered, do you?”

  “If he was, it’ll be one of the biggest shocks I’ve ever gotten.” It’ll rank right up there with my discovery of his dark secret and his news about marrying you. Soon, Cass, I’ll have you right where I want you, out of your skull and under my thumb.

  Cass felt as if bugs were crawling around under her skin and were taking tiny bites of tissue inside her head. She felt excessively warm, though the early March temperatures were comfortably cool. “I hope and pray you’re right, Peter. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss?”

  “No, and you’re looking exhausted, so I’ll leave you alone to relax.”

  Cass observed his departure. She locked the door and pressed the code to set the burglar alarm system, picked up the box of cards, flipped off the light switch, and headed to her bedroom.

  She made certain her drapes were drawn so Peter couldn’t see her pacing the floor as she attempted to walk off her mounting tension. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so keyed up if she hadn’t drunk two cups of strong coffee. She glanced at the brown bottle on her nightstand, but decided she wouldn’t take a Valium until she was sure she needed one. She had never taken tranquilizers until this tragedy struck, but Tom and Peter’s local physician had recommended them after she became so upset by her husband’s sudden and violent death. The medication had calmed her Monday and helped her sleep that night, but she feared becoming dependent upon it. Yet,-she felt as if she wanted to jump out of her skin and scream at the top of her lungs for relief from whatever was attacking her mind and body.

  Cass decided to unpack her luggage instead of going through the sympathy cards, which might only increase her anxiety. As she worked; she sipped water to quench her unbearable thirst. When the cases were finally empted, she put them in a large closet in another room and returned to hers to prepare for bed.

  Sitting on her closet floor, Cass noticed the brown paper grocery sack and Tom’s briefcase. She had forgotten to tell Peter that Killian had brought them over this morning, as Tom had left his luggage aboard his private jet to collect the next day. She decided she should pull out anything personal to her and turn the rest over to the officer tomorrow. She retrieved the sack and emptied its contents on her bed: keys, wallet, two tattered gift-wrapped boxes, a current novel, a demolished video camera, and other small possessions. It was amazing to her that the intelligent Peter hadn’t missed his father’s belongings and asked about them before now. She couldn’t help but wonder if Beals and Killian had studied the items.

  The wallet held credit cards, three pictures of her, one of the two of them, and over seven hundred dollars in cash. The novel, an unusual choice for him, was a historical romance by one of America’s best-selling authors; perhaps, Cass concluded, Miss Lowrey had left it behind by accident. She knew that Tom often had carried a video camera with him in case he saw something he wanted to record or to tape meetings when a secretary wouldn’t be there.

  Cass unwrapped the two boxes with their mangled paper and ribbons. She was astonished by the sexy garments within. One box contained a fiery red silk teddy with black lace trim and a crotch slit; the other, an ebony nightgown in a see-through sheer material; both had lacy cut-outs so the woman’s nipples would protrude. They were hardly the type of garment that Tom normally purchased for her and she couldn’t imagine why he had done so. Then Cass noticed they were not her size. That observation baffled her even more, because Tom chose most of her clothes and shoes and knew her sizes by heart. Obviously the store clerk had picked up the wrong sizes or, more likely, she reasoned, the wrong items to gift wrap for him. She tossed the naughty lingerie aside.

  She looked at the remaining items in the sack, but found nothing more of interest to her. Her fingers toyed with the keys on Tom’s ring as she eyed his briefcase and wondered if she should open it. Since there might be something for her inside and he was her husband, there was no reason why she shouldn’t open it and check its contents.

  Cass sat on the bed, placed the case between her spread legs, and unlocked the catches. After lifting the lid, she saw papers, pens, a current business magazine, a calendar with a spiral binder, an address book, note pad, a jewelry and a cigar box, and two videotapes. She opened the oblong black velvet box first to find a gold bracelet of hearts with a diamond in the center of each. Her eyes misted and she winced in painful sadness as she touched the parting gift she assumed was for her.

  Cass opened his calendar and read notations about appointments. She gazed at the large “G” penned in on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, March first through third. Oddly, “Home” was written in on Monday, the day after he flew in and the one following his death. Obviously Tom had meetings with Gretchen Lowrey for three days and wasn’t expecting to come home until after the weekend. “Pick up packages at Marie’s” also was recorded on last Friday’s square. She glanced at the boxes nearby and saw gold stickers with that boutique’s name on them.

  An unbidden thought came to mind, If he bought them for Gretchen, they wouldn’t have been in the car when he was killed after dropping her off at a hotel, unless he forgot to give them to her. If they were for another woman and if not for the accident, she would never have seen them, since only Tom used the Aston Martin DB7 Volante convertible.

  Cass scolded herself for such wicked thoughts and kept reading the March, February, and January entries. She saw other meetings listed and unknown names penned in here and there, sometimes only a woman’s or a man’s first name. No less than every other day it said: “Call C.” Sometimes “Send flowers” or “Send gift” was included. It almost sounded as if he required a reminder for his “thoughtful” gestures.

  Her fingers flipped through the pages of his address book and her gaze found the same names featured on his calendar, but only first names and phone numbers, no addresses. It bewildered and intrigued Cass that she didn’t recognize those names.

  Most of the papers her eyes scanned pertained to business. Those she would pass along to Peter. She looked through a collection of receipts held together by a gem clip, as Tom was a stickler for matching them to monthly bills. There was a receipt for the naughty lingerie in the wrong size, more costly than she had imagined, so it should be returned for a credit. Another was for the gold-and-diamond bracelet, an expensive item from an exclusive jeweler in New York City. There were restaurant bills and two for hotels: one for the local Embassy Suites where he had paid in advance for Gretchen Lowrey to stay there for
four days; the second was for a hotel in New York, which didn’t make sense to her because Tom had an apartment there. He could have paid the bill for a business associate or consultant, but she was still puzzled because the registration was in his name, not in the person’s who had used it and run up an expensive room service tab in the process.

  Her fingers checked the lid pockets of the case and withdrew several coin-shaped items. She gaped in horror at the condoms in her palm. Tom had no need for contraceptives since she was on the pill and he never used them with her.

  Slowly, yet rapidly, horrible suspicions entered her aching head. It was as if a sadistic puzzle had been tossed into her lap and she was putting it together, and watching it form an ugly picture of betrayal. She did not want to believe what she was thinking. It couldn’t be possible, she told herself. Tom had loved her, only her!

  Cass’s darting gaze touched on the two video tapes. Something told her to watch them carefully, for answers. She snatched them up, leapt off the bed, and walked to the entertainment unit in the sitting area of the master suite. She slid the first tape into the narrow slot, and sat down on the edge of the small sofa. She pointed the remote control at the TV and turned it on, then did the same with the VCR before pressing the Play button. As colorful images filled her vision and voices flooded her ears, Cass instantly knew she was not prepared for what she was discovering about the man she had loved and married.

  Chapter Three

  At first, Cass was too shocked and numbed by what she viewed to cry or become furious or to even press Stop. The tape began with her husband and a beautiful blonde she assumed was Gretchen Lowrey having sex in various positions and ways. During one episode, Gretchen held a camera—probably the demolished one lying on her bed nearby—and filmed the steamy action while Tom performed oral sex on her, with the model laughing in amusement, or moaning in ecstasy, or giving instructions as to what felt best or for him to do next. Anguish knifed Cass’s ravaged heart every time Tom lifted his head to smile or speak or to run his tongue over his lips before he returned to feasting on Gretchen’s willing body.

  Eventually it was Tom’s turn to film and be pleasured, and the blue-eyed female appeared to do her task with skill and enjoyment. Cass heard him moaning and saw his hips writhing in delight. She heard him saying crude words in a strained voice as he gave his orders or praised her actions. As Gretchen’s mouth and tongue and hand lavished his engorged member with near feverish attention, Tom cautioned her to slow down and then told her to halt before he climaxed too soon. “You can finish later, you little witch, he chuckled. “Right now, I want to fuck your brains out; mine, too. Just let me set this thing up over there. Where’s the Off button? I found—”

  Cass knew there was a time lapse when the camera was turned on again, positioned on a chair at the foot of the bed. She assumed they were in a hotel room because she didn’t recognize the setting. The camera was angled perfectly to capture a close-up view of their ensuing intercourse.

  Cass squirmed in rising agitation. Her mouth was dry, and her body was warm and itchy. She needed relief from whatever ailed her, but some dark force was coercing her to discover the extent of Tom’s sins.

  Cass pressed the Fast Forward button and discovered other sexual episodes on other dates. It was evident there was nothing Tom wouldn’t do for, to, or with that blond bitch; and Gretchen did the same for him. She cursed and damned the passionate couple who were razoring her very soul.

  As Cass was about to halt the tormenting tape, another shocking tryst appeared on the thirty-five-inch screen: Tom having sex with two women, a brunette and a redhead. The television—bought for watching from the bed that was twenty feet away, not this close up—sent out a picture large enough for her to catch every detail.

  As Tom directed and filmed, the women cavorted on the bed for a while, stimulating and satisfying each other, either one at a time or simultaneously. After joining them, he continued to record as the brunette and redhead used their hands and mouths to work on his erect penis as a team, sometimes playfully fighting and arguing over not getting a fair share of him.

  A change in the action and positions indicated a time lapse during the rendezvous. She saw Tom put on a condom before he took turns driving his rock-hard erection into first one woman and then the other as the females lay side by side. The positioning of the camera gave Cass an excellent view of Tom’s face as he betrayed her and their marriage vows with vivid enthusiasm.

  Cass had been struggling to ignore the jitters she had been enduring since dinner with Peter, but the weird sensations were mounting. Those imaginary bugs were chewing at her mind and body as they had this morning before she took two Valium and crashed in bed. She pressed the Fast Forward button and allowed the remainder of the tape to go by swiftly.

  Ugly, accusing thoughts whirled uncontrollably through her mind. You kept those videos locked in your briefcase so you could watch them over and over during our separations and probably masturbate to them, didn’t you, you sorry sex fiend? You selfish bastard! You filthy traitor!

  When the first tape finished, she leapt up and ejected it, then shoved the second one into the VCR so roughly that the unit was moved backward a few inches. It was as if she had to punish herself for trusting him, for loving him, for allowing herself to be so despicably fooled by him. She had to know if there were more sordid accounts on the second tape or if it was blank. She didn’t think she could hear or see anything worse on it, but what she learned was even more devastating.

  Cass’s brown gaze enlarged and her mouth went agape as she sucked in a gasp of sheer disbelief. She was too astounded to press the Stop button to halt the shocking images and sounds that invaded her brain and her once-happy home as she saw Tom having sex in various ways with a man, a young and handsome and virile male. She could hardly believe the things her husband was saying—those endearments and vulgar words—and what he was doing with another man; yet, she could not deny what she saw. The fact that Tom used a condom with his handsome lover provided little comfort. He was probably only interested in protecting himself—not in protecting her.

  Cass could not watch any more. She couldn’t bear to learn if other men or multiple male partners were on that second tape. As she thought about Tom kissing her with that same mouth, touching her with those same hands, and entering her with that same penis with which he’d pleasured so many others during their marriage, a wave of nausea wafted over her. She turned off the TV and VCR, then the bedroom lights. She locked her door to make certain Peter didn’t come in to check on her and see the tapes. Stripping off her clothes she jumped into the shower. She scrubbed herself from head to feet and took a douche, feeling dirty inside and out and urgently needing to cleanse herself thoroughly.

  As she dried off, Cass recalled seeing the name Zak on Tom’s calendar and in his address book. He’d been one of those few strangers at Tom’s funeral. She also remembered seeing those two women’s names in both places, so Tom, she deduced, had been cavorting with all of them on a regular basis. She had no doubt that his secret life was the reason why he had secluded her on Sea Island! She had been fooled, misused, and betrayed in the worst way possible. Humiliation and rage gnawed at her.

  After she yanked on a nightgown she found Tom’s keys and went to his office downstairs. She unlocked his desk drawers and located the item she needed: his calendar for the previous year. She flipped through the pages for last January through December. Her gaze narrowed. She clenched her teeth in fury.

  You sorry bastard, she cursed silently, if you weren’t already dead, I would be tempted to kill you myself! How dare you do this to me! You’ve been screwing around the whole time! You were even meeting your lovers while I was traveling with you! So these were your “important business” meetings! You bastard, Tom Grantham! You’re worse than Brad was. Haven’t you ever heard of STDs and AIDS? You could have caught something and brought it home to—

  Sheer terror engulfed her as that reality stormed her angry mi
nd and she turned her thoughts to a practical bent. Oh, my God…I must get myself tested immediately. Whatever will I do if he’s given me some awful or lethal disease? How did I ever love a treacherous snake like him? How could he fool me so completely and for so long? I never even suspected anything was wrong. I wonder what Peter will think when he learns about—No, no, I can’t tell Peter anything about this; I can’t tell anyone. Think of the horrible scandal! I have to destroy those tapes before anybody finds them and…

  The images of Beals and Killian shot into her head like bullets. If the detectives had used Tom’s keys to get inside his briefcase and they saw those tapes…“That would give me a motive for murdering the sorry bastard!” she muttered. “So will that prenuptial agreement if or when they learn about it. Damn you, Tom, damn you!”

  She copied the names and phone numbers of Tom’s lovers and listed the dates of the probable assignations and any information she knew. She straightened the papers in his desk, relocked it, and went to her bedroom, where she put the notes, the two tapes, and condoms in the safe Tom had installed in her closet for her jewels.