Amazing Grace Page 15

  Predictably, and much to her relief, Jake didn't call her once they got back. Ashley did several times, and spoke to her mother, but Melanie didn't take the calls. She told her mother she was done.

  “Don't you think you're being a little hard on her?” her mother said on Saturday afternoon, while Melanie got her nails done at the side of the pool. It was a gorgeous day. Pam had booked a massage for her later that afternoon. But Melanie felt guilty now, being so lazy, and wished she were back at the field hospital with Maggie, and seeing Tom. She was hoping to see him soon. It was something to look forward to now that she was back in her familiar world in L.A. She missed them both.

  “She slept with my boyfriend, Mom,” she reminded Janet about Ashley.

  “Don't you think that was more his fault than hers?” Janet liked Ashley, and had promised her she would talk to Melanie when they got home, and everything would be fine. As far as Melanie was concerned, it was not so fine, in fact not at all.

  “He didn't rape her. She's a consenting adult. If she cared anything about me, or our friendship, she shouldn't have done it. She didn't care. And now neither do I.”

  “Don't be childish. You two have been friends since you were three.”

  “That's my point,” Melanie said coldly. “I think that was worth a little loyalty. I guess she didn't think so. She can have him. But I'm out. Over and out. That was a shitty thing to do. I guess friendship doesn't mean as much to her as it does to me. That's a good thing to know.” Melanie wasn't budging an inch.

  “I told her I would talk to you and everything would be okay. You don't want to make me look stupid, do you? Or like a liar?” Her mother's wheedling and interference only made Melanie's position more firm. Integrity and loyalty were a big deal to her. Particularly given the life she led, where everyone wanted to use her, every chance they got. It went with the territory of her success and stardom. She expected it from outsiders, or even from Jake, who had turned out to be scum. But she didn't expect it, nor would she accept it, from her best friend. She was angry at her mother for even trying to convince her otherwise.

  “I told you, Mom, I'm done. That's the way it's going to stay. I'll be polite to her when I see her, but that's all she's going to get out of me.”

  “That's going to be very hard on her,” Janet said sympathetically, but she was wasting her breath. Melanie didn't like the fact that her mother was championing Ashley's cause.

  “She should have thought of that before she crawled into Jake's sleeping bag. And I assume she did that all week.” Janet didn't comment for a minute and then tried again.

  “I think you should give it some thought.”

  “I did. Let's talk about something else.”

  Janet looked distressed and walked away. She had promised Ashley she'd call her, and now she didn't know what to say. She hated to tell her that Melanie said she'd never speak to her again, but that was essentially the case. As far as Melanie was concerned, their friendship was dead. Sixteen years of friendship down the tubes. And her mother knew that once Melanie felt betrayed and said it was over, that was it. She had seen her do it before, about other things. A boyfriend who had cheated on her before Jake, and a manager she'd trusted who had stolen money from her. Melanie could only be pushed so far and had healthy boundaries. Janet called Ashley that afternoon and told her to give Melanie a little time to cool off, she was still very hurt. Ashley said she understood and burst into tears. Janet promised to call her again soon. Ashley was like a second daughter to her, but she hadn't been like a sister to her best friend when she slept with Jake. And Ashley knew her well enough to realize that Melanie wasn't going to forgive her.

  When the manicurist finished doing her nails, Melanie jumped in the pool. She did laps for a while, and then her trainer came at six. Pam had set that up for her too, and then had gone home. After the trainer left, Janet ordered Chinese takeout, and Melanie ate two softboiled eggs. She said she wasn't hungry and needed to lose a little weight. The food had been too good at the camp, and too fattening. It was time to get serious again before her concert in a few weeks. She thought of Tom and his sister coming to it, and smiled. She still hadn't told her mother about them yet. She figured there was time before he showed up. He was going to be in San Francisco for a while. There was no way of telling how soon he would come to L.A. And then, as though her mother had read her mind, she asked Melanie about him as she sat in the kitchen eating her soft-boiled eggs. Her mother was gorging on Chinese food, saying she had been starving for the past nine days, which was hardly the case. Every time Melanie had seen her, she'd been eating doughnuts, a Popsicle, or a bag of chips. She looked like she'd gained five pounds in the last week, if not ten.

  “You're not getting all wound up over that boy you met at the camp, are you? The one with the engineering degree from Berkeley.” She was surprised that her mother remembered. She had been so dismissive of him that Melanie found it hard to believe that her mother remembered his education. But she certainly seemed to be well aware of who he was, right down to his degree.

  “Don't worry about it, Mom,” Melanie said noncommittally. She thought it was none of her mother's business. She was turning twenty in two weeks. As far as she was concerned, she was old enough to pick her own men. She had learned a lot from the mistakes she'd made, getting together with Jake. Tom was a different kind of human being, and she loved being part of his life, which was so much more wholesome and healthy than Jake's.

  “What does that mean?” her mother asked her, looking worried.

  “It means he's a nice guy, I'm a big girl, and yes, maybe I'll see him again. I hope so. If he calls.”

  “He'll call. He looked crazy about you, and you're Melanie Free after all.”

  “What difference does that make?” Melanie asked, feeling upset.

  “It makes a big difference,” Janet reminded her, “to everyone on the planet, except you. Don't you think you're carrying humility a little too far? Look, no man can separate out who you are as a person, and who you are as a star. It's not in their DNA. I'm sure this guy is as impressed by you as everyone else. Who wants to go out with a nothing, if you can be with a star? You'd be a real feather in his cap.”

  “I don't think he's into feathers, or caps. He's into serious stuff, he's an engineer, and a good man.”

  “How boring,” her mother said, with a look of disgust.

  “It's not boring. He's smart,” Melanie persisted. “I like smart guys.” She wasn't apologizing for it. It was a fact.

  “Then it's a good thing you got rid of Jake. He drove me nuts for the past nine days. All he did was whine.”

  “I thought you liked him.” Melanie looked surprised.

  “I thought so too,” Janet said. “I was sick to death of him by the time we left. Some people are not the right ones to go through a crisis with. He's one of them. All he talks about is himself.”

  “Apparently, Ashley is one of these people too, that you wouldn't want to go through a crisis with. Especially if she sleeps with your guy. She can have him now. He's a totally narcissistic pain in the ass.”

  “You could be right. Just don't throw Ashley away in the deal.” Melanie didn't comment. She already had.

  Melanie went to her room early then. It was all done in pink and white satin, by her mother's design, with a pink and white fox throw on the bed. It looked like the bedroom of a Las Vegas showgirl, which was precisely what her mother was at heart, to this day. She had told the decorator exactly what she wanted in Melanie's room, right down to a pink fur teddy bear. All of Melanie's requests for stark simplicity had been ignored. This was what her mother said she had to have. But at least it was comfortable, Melanie acknowledged to herself, as she lay down on the bed. It felt heavenly to be so pampered again. She felt a little guilty for it, particularly when she thought of the people in San Francisco in the shelter, and the fact that they would be there for months, for the most part, while she was at home on her satin-and-fur-covered bed. Somehow, it
felt wrong, even if in a way it felt right. But not right enough. If nothing else, it wasn't her style, it was her mother's. That was becoming clearer to Melanie every day.

  Melanie lay on her bed and watched TV until late that night. She watched an old movie, the news, and finally MTV. In spite of herself and the interesting experience she'd had, it felt great to be home.

  On Saturday afternoon, as Melanie and her group winged their way to L.A., Seth Sloane was sitting in his living room, staring into space. It had been nine days since the earthquake, and they were still isolated and cut off. Seth was no longer sure if it was a blessing or a curse. He could get no news from New York. Nothing. Zero. Zip.

  As a result, it was an agonizingly stressful weekend. In desperation, he finally tried to take his mind off his troubles and play with his kids. Sarah hadn't spoken to him in days. He hardly saw her, and at night as soon as she put the children to bed, she disappeared into the guest room. He hadn't commented on it to her, he didn't dare.

  On Monday morning, eleven days after the earthquake, Seth was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee, when the BlackBerry he had set on the table next to him suddenly came to life. It was the first chance he'd had to communicate with the outside world, and he grabbed it. He text-messaged Sully immediately and asked him what had happened. The answer came back two minutes later.

  Sully's answer was succinct. “The SEC is all over me. You're next. They know. They got the records from the bank. Good luck.” Shit, Seth whispered under his breath, and text-messaged him again.

  “Did they arrest you?” he inquired of Sully.

  “Not yet. Grand jury next week. They got us, bro. We're fucked.” It was precisely the confirmation he had been fearing for over a week. But even knowing what would probably happen, Seth felt his stomach sink when he read the words. “We're fucked” was an understatement, particularly if they had the records from Sully's bank. Seth's was still closed, but wouldn't be for much longer.

  It opened the following day, and Seth's lawyer had told him to do nothing. Seth had literally walked to his house to talk to him, since he couldn't reach him by phone. Anything Seth did now could incriminate him further, especially since Sully was under investigation. And having lost part of his house in the earthquake, Seth's lawyer couldn't meet with him till Friday. As it turned out, the FBI beat him to it. On Friday morning, two weeks after the earthquake, two special agents from the FBI showed up at the house. Sarah let them in. They asked to see Seth. She showed them into the living room and went to get Seth. He'd been sitting in his office upstairs, where he had been holed up in terror for two weeks. It was starting to unravel, and there was no telling where it would go.

  The FBI special agents spent two hours with Seth, questioning him about Sully in New York. He refused to answer any questions about himself without a lawyer present and said as little as possible about Sully. They had threatened to arrest him on the spot for obstruction of justice if he refused to respond to any questions about his friend. Seth looked gray when they left. But at least he hadn't been arrested. He was sure that would come soon.

  “What did they say?” Sarah asked him nervously after they left.

  “They wanted to know about Sully. I didn't say much, as little as I could.”

  “What did they say about you?” Sarah asked, looking anxious.

  “I told them I wouldn't discuss it without my lawyer present, and they said they'd come back. You can be damn sure they will.”

  “What do we do now?” Seth was relieved to hear her say “we.” He wasn't sure if it was just out of habit, or showed her state of mind. He didn't dare ask. She hadn't spoken to him all week. And he didn't want to lose that again now.

  “Henry Jacobs is coming here this afternoon.” They finally had their phones back. It had taken two weeks. But he was terrified to talk to anyone. He had had one cryptic phone call with Sully, and that was all. If the FBI were investigating him, he knew they might be tapping his phones, and he didn't want to make things any worse than they already were.

  When he came, the lawyer stayed with Seth in his office for nearly four hours. They covered the waterfront. Seth told him everything, and when it was over, his attorney wasn't encouraging. He said as soon as they got his records from the bank, he would probably be called before the grand jury and indicted. And arrested shortly thereafter. He was almost sure that he would have to stand trial. He didn't know what else would happen, but the preliminary visit from the FBI agents was not a good sign.

  It was a nightmarish weekend for Seth and Sarah. The Financial District was still closed, without electricity or water, so Seth still couldn't go downtown. He just sat at home, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It did on Monday morning. The head of the local FBI bureau called Seth on his BlackBerry. He said their main offices were closed, and he asked for Seth and his attorney to meet with them at Seth's home the following afternoon. He reminded him not to leave town, and informed him that he was under investigation, and that the FBI had been notified by the SEC. He told Seth that Sully was appearing in front of the grand jury in New York that week, which Seth already knew.

  He found Sarah in the kitchen feeding Ollie. The baby had applesauce all over his face, and Sarah had been talking to him and Molly, with Sesame Street on in the background. They had gotten their electricity back over the weekend, which much of the city still hadn't. But it was coming back on here and there. They were among the lucky few, probably because of the neighborhood they were in. The mayor lived a few blocks away, which never hurt. The electricity was being turned on by grid. They were in the first grid, which was fortunate for them. And a few stores were open again, mostly supermarkets, food chains, and banks.

  Sarah looked terrified when Seth told her about the FBI meeting scheduled for the next day. The only good news for her was that as his wife, she could refuse to testify against him. But she didn't know anything about it anyway. He had never said anything to her about his illegal transactions at the hedge fund. It had come as a complete shock to her.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked in a choked voice.

  “Meet them with Henry tomorrow. I have no choice. If I refuse, it looks worse, and they can get a court order to force me. Henry is coming over this afternoon to prepare me.” He had called his lawyer the minute he hung up the call from the FBI and insisted he come over immediately.

  Henry Jacobs arrived looking somber and official that afternoon. Sarah opened the door for him, and led him to the upstairs den where Seth was waiting, doodling nervously at his desk, and staring bleakly out the window from time to time. He had been lost in thought all day, and after his brief conversation with Sarah earlier, Seth had closed the door to the room. She knocked softly and let Henry in.

  Seth stood up to greet him, waved him to a chair, and sighed as he sat down. “Thanks for coming, Henry. I hope you have a magic wand in your briefcase. It's going to take a magician to get me out of this mess.” He ran a hand through his hair as the somber-looking lawyer sat down across from him.

  “That's possible,” Henry said noncommittally.

  Henry was in his early fifties and had handled similar cases before. Seth had consulted him several times, in reverse actually, wanting detailed information about how he could cover his shady dealings before they occurred. It had never dawned on his attorney that that was what he had in mind. It had all seemed very theoretical, and Henry had assumed that the questions had been to assure that Seth didn't do anything wrong. He had admired Seth for being so diligent and so cautious, and only now did he realize what was going on. He passed no judgment on it, but there was no question, Seth was in a serious bind, with potentially catastrophic results.

  “I take it you've done this before,” Henry commented as they went over it again. Seth's dealings sounded too practiced, too thorough, and too detailed for this to have been the first time. Seth nodded. Henry was astute, and good at what he did. “How often?”

  “Four times.”

&
nbsp; “Has anyone else been involved?”

  “No. Only the same friend in New York. We've been friends since high school. I trust him totally. I guess that's not the point now.” Seth smiled grimly, and then threw a pencil across his desk. “If the fucking earthquake hadn't happened, we'd have been fine this time too. Who would have thought? We were running a little tight on time, but it was just rotten luck that his investors’ auditors were coming in so quickly after mine. It would have worked if the earthquake hadn't shut everything down.” The money had sat there frozen in the banks, which had allowed their scheme to be discovered.

  For two full weeks, Seth's hands had been tied, with Sully's investors’ money in his accounts. The point he was missing was not the misfortune of the earthquake to keep them from covering up their crime, but the fact that they had transferred the funds at all. It didn't get much more illegal than that, other than emptying the accounts and absconding with the money. They had lied to two sets of investors, created an illusion of enormous funds in their accounts, and been discovered. Henry wasn't shocked—defending people like Seth was his business—but nor was he sympathetic about the problem the earthquake had caused. Seth could see it in his eyes. “What are we looking at here?” Seth asked bluntly. There was terror stamped all over his face and leaping from his eyes, like a rat in a cage.

  He knew he wouldn't like the answer, but Seth wanted to know. He was running scared. The grand jury was meeting in New York that week to indict Sully, by special request of the federal prosecutor. Seth knew he wouldn't be far behind, given what he'd heard from the FBI.

  “Realistically, the evidence is fairly solidly against you, Seth,” Henry said quietly. There was no way to dress it up for him. “They have hard evidence against you, in your accounts at the bank.” Henry had told him not to touch the money the moment he'd called. He couldn't have anyway, there was nowhere to go with it. Sully's accounts were already frozen in New York. And he couldn't just take out sixty million dollars in cash and hide it in a suitcase under his bed. For now at least, the money was just sitting there. “The FBI is acting for the SEC in an investigative capacity here. As soon as they report their findings after they talk to you, I think it's safe to assume they'll have a grand jury hearing here. They may not even ask you to be present, if the evidence is strong enough against you. If the grand jury moves for an indictment, they'll bring charges against you pretty quickly, probably arrest you, and move toward prosecution. After that, it's up to me. But there's only so much we can do. It may not even make sense to push this to trial. If the evidence is rock solid, you may do better making a deal with them, and trying to plea-bargain. If you plead guilty, we may be able to give them enough information to nail down their case against your friend in New York. If that appeals to the SEC, and they need us, you may do less time. But I don't want to mislead you. If what you say is true, and they can prove it, I think you'll go to prison, Seth. It's going to be tough, worse than tough, to get you out of this. You left a neon-lit trail behind you. We're not talking breadcrumbs here. This is big money. A sixty-million-dollar fraud is no small thing to the government. They're not going to back down on this.” He thought of something else then. “Are your taxes in order?” That would be a whole other can of worms, and Sarah had asked Seth the same question. If he had committed tax fraud too, he was going to be away for a very, very long time.