The Wages of Sin

By Brenda Savoy

Brooke Carlin is an international news correspondent when she meets and marries Fortune 500 Rey Saldana. Charmed by his persona and his good looks she marries him. All seems welluntil seven years into their marriage, when Brooke makes the acquaintance of the debonair Miguel Della Rico and starts a torrid love affair against her better judgment.

She finds herself unable to resist Miguela man with wealth, good looks, talent in the bedroom, and a mysterious and questionable past. Although Brooke is well traveled and brilliant, she remains blind to the lethal schemes that Miguel has involved her in and continues the affair, even after the murder of her husband, possibly at the hands of her lover. When Miguel is arrested for gun smuggling and murder at Port Said, Egypt, he asks her to work undercover as a corrections officer to help him escape.

As Brooke decides whether to help him or to wake up to reality, her life has become unrecognizable compared to what it once was. She has lost her husband, and now her freedom may be at risk. If she had known this would be the result of her adultery, would she have loved Miguel anyway?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491703601

Brenda Savoy

Dr. Brenda Savoy is a native of Baltimore, Maryland. She is and educator and master criminologist. The Wages of Sin is her second novel in a planned trilogy. She is also the author of Diamond: A Girl’s Best Friend. You can visit Brenda on Facebook, Brenda H. Savoy; and follow her on Twitter, Dr. Brenda Savoy @Dymond5.

Book preview

THE

WAGES

OF SIN

DR. BRENDA SAVOY

iUniverse LLC

Bloomington

THE WAGES OF SIN

Copyright © 2013, 2014 by Brenda Savoy.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-0357-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-0360-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013915167

iUniverse rev. date: 02/07/2014

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

In Memory

Of

Corey Charles Brogden

Mrs. Essie M. Hatcher

And

Mrs. Louise V. Brogden

I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood.

Audre Lorde

Special thanks to

Beatrice Ashford and Valery Viner

Chapter 1

Life on Coronado

My grandparents were considered the idle rich. Shedding their New England life for the beachfront paradise of Coronado, they moved West in the early seventies. Clyde Carlin, my grandfather, owned a chain of bed and breakfasts in Toronto, Canada. A self-made millionaire, he had a pragmatic way of dealing with people. My grandmother, Miss Lillian, was the exact opposite, sort of like a fairy tale princess, and I was caught somewhere in between.

As a teenager, one of my favorite things to do on Coronado Island was to walk along the beach at night to watch the lights from the boats as they reflected upon the water. And then there was fabulous Tent City for which I had a deep fascination. It had the atmosphere of a carnival with its quaint shops of flashy clothes, art work and souvenirs. Tourists came from the world over for Coronado’s ‘Tent City’ experience. I’d left this unparalleled paradise for Manhattan when I graduate from college. My grandmother’s death had however, forced me to take a leave of absence from my job to return home and settle financial matters.

My grandparent’s beachfront home on Ocean Drive was in mint condition and my realtor told me it would sell for at least ten million. As I surveyed the place of my charmed upbringing, I wondered what I would do with all of the expensive antiques, paintings and furnishings that my grandmother so greatly valued. The memories alone were painful enough but now I had the surplus task of either selling or giving these dust collectors away. One thing I knew for sure, if I have children, I will be more considerate than to leave them to this awful task upon my death.

My birth parents, Kimberly and Martin Carlin, were the last of the original hippies. They were a glimpse of the Beatles mind’s eye ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart Club Band’. Theirs was an era full possibilities, and they were just the ones to grasp them. My mother, a beautiful African-American woman, wore a huge Afro that complemented her pretty brown face. She’d met my father while they taught ‘Peoples Politics in South America’ at Berkeley. They fell in love, married under the stars and took off to help the insurgents in Nicaragua.

After I was born, my grandparents had enough of their son’s reckless behavior. Intervening on my behalf, they offered my parents a monthly stipend of twenty-thousand dollars, to allow them to adopt me. My parents accepted the offer with the agreement that I was never supposed to find out. I was twelve when I accidentally stumbled upon one of my grandfather’s canceled checks made out to my father. This was the time my grandparents made the decision to tell me how I came to live with them. After listening to the camouflaged array of distasteful details, I became petulant and depressed. My grandmother thought it wise to take me to a shrink to help me understand why my parents had given me up for adoption. The psychologist explained that the reason my mother gave me away was because she had no real attachment to me. This was probably because she was born to a teenage mother and was given up to foster care at birth. The homes that she’d grown up in were so terribly dysfunctional that she’d attempted suicide several times. My father, on the other hand, was a spoiled rotten brat and cared very little about anything or anyone other than my mother. I usually heard from my parents on holidays and sometimes on my birthday. I really didn’t miss them because I didn’t know them and whenever I talked to them, I felt like an equal.

As for my education, several teachers home schooled me until ninth grade. Twice weekly I went into the village for piano, tennis and horseback riding lessons. When I turned fourteen, my grandfather finally found the right school for me, The Chase Boarding and Day School for Girls in San Diego. Affluent people from all over the United States sent their daughters to Chase for a quality education. Chase was an all girls’ boarding and day school, with girls who looked like me: pretty girls of all hues. I was fascinated by these beauties and wanted very much to befriend them. Chase became my home away from home. I was on the archery team, the tennis team, the debate team and a member of the Thespian Society. On weekends, I invited close friends for sleepovers, and other fun things on Coronado. Before attending Chase, I’d never had an African American friend. In fact, I had only one African American relative, my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly a year. During my second Christmas at Chase, I was allowed to visit the home of my best friend Victoria Grayson for a few days. Like me, Victoria was also bi-racial. We looked so much alike that people thought we were sisters.

A few visits to her home and I quickly concluded that her home life was not much different from mine except for the fact that her maid was a much better cook than mine. And she had really adorable twin brothers, Marlon and Malcolm who were high school seniors. It was in this Victorian mansion that I lost my virginity.

Marlon and I dated in secret until my junior year. It was during that year that Marlon became more demanding of me. He was attending Morehouse College in Atlanta; subsequently, we only saw each other during summer vacation or on holidays.

On his last visit home he demanded sex from me. He said if he couldn’t get it, it was going to be over between us. I can get it from any girl I want at Spellman or Clark. Either you’re my woman or you’re not! But you’ve got to decide now because if we don’t do this before I go back to school, you can forget about me.

I knew that what he was saying was true because he was probably one of the finest and best dressed men on campus. It would stand to reason that every woman wanted him. I was so afraid of losing him that I went along with his demand. I believed him when he said that we didn’t have to use anything the first time because I couldn’t get pregnant. Two months later, I was pregnant. Afraid and ashamed to tell my grandparents, I confided in Marlon’s mother.

I asked, Mrs. Grayson, can I talk to you about something personal?

Her teeth glistened like white pearls when she smiled. Sure Brooke, you know that you can always talk to me. Do you want to include Victoria in our talk?

No. I just need to talk to you.

Mrs. Grayson wasn’t at all like my grandmother. A lawyer by profession, she was tall thin, and self-assured. Her eyes were slightly overstated and her petite nose seemed out of place on her broad face but her designer clothes and classy demeanor made her a dime. She was a realist; nice but serious about her finances and her family, especially her children. I genuinely admired her. Her husband, Dr. Grayson who was twenty-five years her senior spent his retirement days at the golf course.

She invited me into her office and asked me to sit down and to have tea with her. Her office seemed mysterious, with its walls covered in bronze leafed metal frames, and a floral wall papered ceiling. I took notice that she sat beside me rather than behind her desk. Mrs. Grayson reaching out to hold my hand gave me a great sense of comfort.

Brooke, would you like some tea?

No thank you. I just need to tell you something.

I fumbled with my skirt wondering how to say what I needed to say.

Mrs. Grayson realizing my anxiety leaned even closer putting her arm around my shoulder and with great sincerity in her voice whispered, What’s bothering you, Brooke? You know that you can tell me anything.

Tearfully, I blurted out, I’m pregnant.

In a flash her demeanor changed, as if she were going through a major metamorphous. She looked demonic as she screamed, By whom? Who the hell are you pregnant by?

With my voice lowered to nearly a whisper, I reluctantly answered, Marlon. I’m pregnant by Marlon.

Mrs. Grayson got up from her chair, walked toward the window, pivoted on the heels of her designer shoes, and gave me a stare so cold that it felt as if an ice pick was piercing my heart.

Now you wait just a damn minute. When did this happen because Marlon has been away at school?

It happened over the holiday.

What holiday are you talking about? Who else are you involved with?

There’s no one else, only Marlon.

Little girl, my son has a future. And just in case you didn’t know, he’s going to be an attorney, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you or any other tramp mess it up for him. So you can just take your little ass back over to Coronado because Marlon isn’t marrying anybody until he becomes a lawyer.

Tearfully I said, Mrs. Grayson I’m not a tramp and I’m not trying to get married. I just wanted to ask your advice about what to do.

Why do you need my advice? Why don’t you ask your rich grandparents what you should do? This is their problem not mine! As far as I am concerned you can just march down to the nearest abortion clinic… or drop it in the toilet. I’m sorry for the day that you walked into our lives. You are trying to ruin my son’s life! Get out of my house tramp!

I got up slowly from my chair, in shock from her harsh words. Turning once more to face my demon, I heard her say, Get the hell out, now!!!!!

What about my life? Wasn’t Marlon equally responsible for the pregnancy? I found it difficult to fathom what Mrs. Grayson was saying. I was hurt and confused because I only did it one time and it was with Marlon. How could she think that I was involved with someone else and why was she talking to me like this? She had often referred to me as her other daughter. She’d always been a calm and reasonable person but now it was as if she hated me. What had I said to enrage her so? The mental picture of Mrs. Grayson raging over my pregnancy changed my opinion of her. As far as I was concerned, she was just plain mean, and I hoped never to see her again.

When I arrived home my grandparents were waiting for me. Mrs. Grayson had already informed them of my pregnancy. My grandmother started in on me as soon as I came through the door.

In her sweet but sarcastic voice she said, Victoria’s mother told us what happened.

My grandfather chimed in saying, We want to know why you didn’t come to us first? Haven’t we always been there for you?

I didn’t have an answer as I tearfully told them of how Mrs. Grayson was really mean to me. She told me to get out of her house and never come back!

My Grandmother said, You don’t ever have to go back there again. We love you. You have us, and we’ll always be here for you.

To my surprise, they were not as judgmental as I’d thought they would be. They said I could take a vacation from school and go to Scarsdale to stay with my aunt. There I would have the time to decide whether or not to keep the baby, but I needed to talk with Marlon before I decided anything.

When I finally reached him, he was furious. I’d never seen this side of him. His attitude was cavalier much like that of his mother. I soon realized that my one indiscretion had caused a multitude of problems for everyone. Brooke, I knew you were young but not stupid. Why didn’t you come to me first? What was the point of telling my mother? I hope you know that you messed it up for us. She doesn’t ever want you at the house again!

Is that all you care about, your mother’s feelings? What about me? What about the baby? He said, What about you? You got your grandparents. They’ll know what to do. Don’t you understand that I’m trying to finish school? What am I supposed to do with a baby? I thought you knew how to protect yourself.

I was so confused that I was hardly audible as I said, But you said I couldn’t get pregnant the first time.

His voice elevated to an ear piercing sound. I said what?

You told me that I couldn’t get pregnant the first time!

Listen up little girl, I never made a guarantee that you couldn’t get pregnant. Hear me! This is on you!

I didn’t understand. Why was he pretending it was my fault when he promised me that I wouldn’t get pregnant? He was just as uncaring as his mother, but his words hurt much more because I loved him. Should I get an abortion?

There’s no other way. We’re too young for a baby.

Can’t you at least come home and go with me? I can’t do this alone.

With anger in his voice, he emphatically said, No, I can’t come home! I’ve got midterms. You’re stressing me out with this shit!

His words cut like a knife, and I could hardly breathe when I put the phone down. My thoughts became scattered, and I was having difficulty defining my self-worth. I began to think that maybe I wasn’t fit to live. My parents didn’t want me, and now Marlon hated me. My world was crumbling fast. Marlon had been the center of my life for the past two years, and now it was as if I were a stranger to him. How could this have happened?

That night, I overdosed on sleeping pills. When my grandmother came to look in on me, she found me on the bathroom floor unconscious and turning blue. I survived, but the baby aborted itself.

I returned to Chase two weeks later with the thought that my classmates would ridicule me, but instead I was celebrated like a rock star. Even Victoria championed me.

When Marlon returned home for the summer, he called to ask me out but my grandfather told him, as well as his mother, that if he ever called or even spoke to me again, he would be finishing his career at the local jailhouse facing a statutory rape charge rather than matriculating at Morehouse. After all, I was only sixteen and he was twenty.

That summer, my grandmother and I had the best heart to heart talk ever. I can still hear her saying, Brooke, I want you to work hard and become the valedictorian of your class. You’re beautiful and you’re smart. You have to show the Graysons that you’re made of strong stuff and that they were a mere pebble in your shoe. Never forget success is always the sweetest revenge.

As valedictorian of the senior class, my address to the graduating class spoke of character and integrity when pursuing goals and ambitions. It further spoke to taking responsibility for your actions, rather than passing the buck or circumventing issues that belong to you. I hoped that both Mrs. Grayson and Marlon realized that I was directing the crux of my speech to them. After the ceremony, people stood in line to congratulate me on my speech, including the Graysons, but I purposely ignored them.

Most of the class would attend a faraway Ivy League College, but I chose the University of California at San Diego. I wanted to stay close to home because of my grandfather’s illness.

Chapter 2

Rhyme and Reason

On Tuesday morning around 11 A.M., the first clients came by. I was spellbound as three of the most gorgeous persons on the planet walked into my house accompanied by realtor Sylvia Spreckles.

Good afternoon, Ms. Carlin, let me introduce Mr. Rey Saldana. He’s the client that I told you about. He’s very interested in purchasing a beachfront property on the island. I told him that your house is not only beautiful but spirited and intimate as well.

I could hardly look at this handsome man for fear of him looking through me and reading my mind.

I extended my hand, "Mr. Saldana, it’s very nice to meet you. Please feel free to ask me any questions that you