Contracted To Love

Chapter 9

David was in his own world as he sat at his desk on Monday morning. He had been since he’d gotten to work that day. He couldn’t help but replay the encounter between him and his wife over and over. Hell, he’d been doing it all weekend long. Michelle wasn’t just a woman. No. He’d had a number of women in his life, but there was no one who made him feel the way she’d made him feel. Being with her was more than just s*x. More than lovemaking. It was intoxicating. He was far away from her but he could still smell her scent all around him. He could almost see her warm brown eyes almost every single time he closed his eyes. It was impossible not to think about her, or was it that it wasn’t possible to think of anything else but her? He didn’t know. All he knew for sure was that he wanted her again. And again. And again. He thought of the men who’d been lucky enough to have her in the past. Idiots like Jean who’d had her, all of her. Her body and her heart and yet they’d let her go. David couldn’t understand why anyone would ever do that. But he was glad they did. He considered himself lucky to even have a little of her. He’d been counting his blessings that weekend every time he’d claimed her.

On the kitchen counter and then again on the kitchen floor. In the living room. In the shower. In the pool… it was hard for him to think of anything else except when he was next going to have Michelle in his arms.

He was still lost when he heard a soft knock on his door that had him look up to find his assistant standing at the door.

“Alfred Johnson’s here to see you.”

He took a long, deep breath. It was about time. He’d asked his good friend Alfred to look into Michelle’s ex in a bid to help her win back custody of her daughter. David hadn’t said anything to Michelle about it. He was afraid of telling her anything only to disappoint her. He wanted to tell her about it only when his efforts bore any fruit.

“Send him in,” David said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

He took a series of long, deep breaths. He wasn’t so sure what he was going to hear from Alfred. He knew that Alfred Johnson was a great private investigator. He’d done a lot of work for David’s family in the past. He moved like a cat, slowly and silently. Lurking in the shadows as he gathered evidence that would doom a lot of people. Evidence that David used to bend people to his will. It was one of his greatest tactics. That was how he knew to put his faith in Alfred Johnson.

*****

Alfred Johnson used to hate his job. It was a job that would never go out of business, after all there was always going to be a cheating husband or a cheating wife. He often wondered why after so many years people still chose to go to cheap motels when it came to being unfaithful. If it was him, he would go to a nice place. The Four Seasons or something like that. Same thing with hiding. No one would ever think to look for someone in a five-star resort or establishment. The rule was simple. Hide in plain sight. It was so much easier to move around that way because people always paid attention to the shadows. That was where to hide out. In plain sight.

Unfaithful partners in many ways, he’d found, were very much like fugitives. They would almost always choose to go to a Motel Six than a proper hotel with room service. It wasn’t exactly glamorous work but it kept the lights on. He’d done that job for years, taking photographs of people cheating on their spouses. It grew boring after a while. It wasn’t a challenge and there were so many other people doing it that it didn’t bring in the money it used to. That was, until he’d gotten the call that had changed his life.

One day, while working on yet another few hundred-dollar project, he got a call from David Favre. He knew exactly who David was. Everyone knew who David was, it was impossible not to. That family was like royalty.

“I’m looking to expand the business,” David had said. “But my moving ahead depends greatly on the legislation our politicians make.”

Alfred wasn’t sure what to make of that conversation.

“I don’t see how I can be of help,” he’d said.

“I need leverage if I’m going to go up against Congress. Dirt against the people whose names I will give you.”

Alfred had almost gasped silently.

“Congress,” he’d echoed.

“Yes, Congress. I want everything. Their personal lives, their private businesses, finances… everything. Turn their lives inside out. If there’s even a speck of dust, I want to know about it.”

The prospect had excited Alfred. He’d never done anything so big. But he also knew that it wasn’t going to be easy.

“That’s a lot of work and it might take some time.”

“I’ll compensate you, handsomely. Say yes and I’ll wire you on hundred thousand as a down payment.”

Alfred was never going to make that much photographing some sad sap screwing his housekeeper. At least not for a long time. Agreeing to do the work had marked a turning point in Alfred’s life. He started working for David Favre as a private investigator on call, and now, seven years in David’s employ, he was still being called for work. He didn’t mind it. It always gave him a sense of responsibility. A sense of belonging. And how could it not? Working for David had enabled him to grow his rainy day fund as well as finally get a place he could call home. It was a small house in Jersey and it had been everything he’d ever wanted. Having a home had always been important to him and now that he had one, everything was slowly falling into place. First it was the new opportunity that allowed him to get a house. That was all he needed to show Zoe Phelps, a photographer he’d long had feelings for, that he was a responsible man. Afterwards, she moved in and after living together for two years, they finally got married and started their family. The money that he’d saved up came in handy when he was setting up a photography studio in New York, which was their primary source of income. But Alfred had always remained on call should David Favre ever need him and a few weeks ago, he’d gotten the call from David.

The assignment was a simple one. It wasn’t a politician or a high profile businessman. It was just another man from his own neighborhood. Jean-Phillippe Lavoisier.

*****

“Please tell me that you’ve had some success with this Jean character,” David said when Alfred sat down.

“Let’s just say that in the old days, your office floor would have been covered in scrolls,” Alfred said, smiling. “Right now, all I have is this.” He placed a thumb drive on the desk.

“Sixty-four gigs.” David frowned. “There must be a lot of scrolls in this and honestly, I cannot imagine going through all this information.”

“So, crash course?” Alfred asked and David nodded.

“Crash course.”

“Alright. Jean-Phillippe Lavoisier is a French-American accountant, or at least he used to be before he divorced Michelle Smith,” Alfred started. “During his marriage, his assets grew exponentially and even more after the divorce, thanks to the child support.”

David raised an eyebrow.

“He got child support?” he asked, surprised.

“It was more than child support, really. Thousands of dollars monthly, plus the house Michelle had bought when they’d first gotten married.”

That information was blowing David’s mind.

“Michelle bought the house?” he asked even more surprised than he had been about the child support.