A Taste Of Revenge Read online

  A TASTE OF REVENGE

  ANDREW WESTMONT

  AuthorHouse™

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.authorhouse.com

  Phone: 1-800-839-8640

  © 2012 Andrew Westmont. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  Published by AuthorHouse 1/9/2012

  ISBN: 978-1-4685-4179-3 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4685-4180-9 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4685-4181-6 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012900524

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

  and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  This book is printed on acid-free paper.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  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

  ONE YEAR LATER

  CHAPTER 1

  A

  lthough the temperature soared a record one hundred and four degrees in mid July, everyone in the city was bustling around the paper littered streets filing into the variety of markets that has managed against the odds to stay open.

  Patrons were once again filling their carts with meats, vegetables and other necessities that had been unavailable from extensive atmospheric conditions resulting in ecological damage to the environment decimating the soil resulting in a shortage of vegetables and meats.

  This condition had persisted for almost two years but now it appeared as though this predicament was behind them as the shelves were once again abundantly filled with everything that the consumer needed.

  Above the chatter of the shoppers, the merchants were happily ringing in their sales and greeting their once weekly customers that they had watched dwindle forcing many unfortunate proprietors to close their shops for good.

  Nevertheless, as it generally goes, with circumstances seemingly back to normal most of the folks were only concerned at this time with their current love affair, the stock market, other investments, or whatever else that was stimulating their interest for the moment.

  Such was the case of Babbette who live in the several miles out of the city limits.

  Turning in her luxurious king-sized bed adorned with a white silk coverlet and various fluffy feather pillows Babbette slowly opened her eyes and lazily stretched raising her arms over her head.

  Yawning she looked over at the clock that sat on her cherry night stand beside the bed noting the time was now ten after eight.

  Abruptly swinging her long shapely legs over the side of the bed she began fishing for her slippers finally locating them with her brightly red polished toes slipping her dainty feet into them. She stood and slowly padded across the plush pale blue carpet going to the bedroom window looking out into the bright sun light morning. Her eyes gazed once again on the vast sprawling land that lay before her and no matter how many times she viewed it, it always left her breathless. She stood there for a few moments continuing to look over the grounds as she always enjoyed the quiet of the morning.

  She spied a beautiful red bird dangling something in its mouth, a worm she guessed; and watched as it perched itself on a limb of the dogwood tree that was in full bloom with lovely pink blossoms. It was only when she tried to push the window open to get a closer look did it flutter its wings and quickly fly away.

  Her eyes then rested on the view of the slopping lanes graced with numerous tall water oak trees draped with hanging moss reminding her of a tattered veil on an old worn hat.

  At the top of the long winding driveway a sunken garden had been strategically placed from which an array of flowers in colors of white, reds, yellows, purples peeked up from the cobblestones that surrounded it. When she had first moved into this home the land was as barren as her life had been at that time in her life.

  She smiled closing her eyes remembering how it had taken over a year just to cultivate that landscape that she so loved. She had spent a lot of time and money finding her house that was secluded from the road giving her the much-needed privacy and security that she demanded.

  Unexpectedly an ephemeral warm breeze drifted through the window gently blowing her long black hair and bringing with it the unmistaken smell of the saltwater from the nearby ocean. For no reason that she could think of she suddenly began to tremble and that old saying of someone walking on your grave came to her mind. She quickly closed and locked the window hurrying across the room entering her lavish bathroom artfully decorated in several shades of lavender and pinks two of her favorite colors.

  After forcing the water full blast in spiral shaped shower she slipped out of her short silk night gown she stepping into the steamy hot water feeling its tingle on her skin as it flowed over her body. Instantaneously the anxiety that she had earlier experienced began to slip away.

  After lathering her slender body, she then washed her black silky hair before stepping out and wrapping herself in a thick terry robe with drips of water leaving the imprint of her feet on the thick carpet.

  At her pink petal sink she brushed her perfectly shaped teeth. She had spent a small fortune having them repaired after she had graduated from high school. Painful memories still lingered from when her classmates had teased her from the time she had entered first grade up until she had graduated as her teeth had been crooked and uneven during those years. The kids had started calling her Bucky somewhere along the way sending her running home crying more than once, now she could be proud of them.

  After brushing, she grabbed the bottle of mouth rinse pouring a small amount into a paper cup, swishing and then gave them one final look, glad that she had made the sacrifice to repair them.

  She shook out her thick wet hair and began brushing it into her preferred style.

  Her flawless skin, copper in color required little foundation and after applying only a small amount of it and mascara to her long lashes that framed her deep set dark eyes, a new plum colored lipstick and spraying her favorite perfume she was ready to get dressed.

  She entered her walk in closet picking out a pale yellow silk suit and chose ivory leather pumps and a matching handbag. She accessorized with her favorite diamond earrings and placed a designer watch onto her arm. Satisfied with her appearance she went into her den and turned on the television for the morning news.

  She listened to the news events that had taken place during the night before as she brewed herself a cup of coffee. After hearing about all the murders and robberies that had taken place during the night before she was relieved when she heard the sound of the car horn blowing in her driveway.

  It was her friend Siana as punctual as always in her new
cherry red Corvette picking her up for work.

  She grabbed her purse and hurried out greeting her friend with a smile and a good morning while sliding onto the white leather seat of the convertible...

  What took you so long and why was it that you did not return my telephone call last night demanded her friend?

  Well good morning to you too said Babbette.

  For starters it did not take me long to get out of the house, I was ready and waiting for you.

  Secondly, is it too much to ask for you just say good morning without any sarcasm?

  I am sorry stated Siana, good morning.

  That is better said Babbette.

  What has you in such a funk this morning anyway?

  I guess it must have something to do with that new man I am dating; he drives me nuts and makes me so angry. Sometimes I think he is a real asshole and if he were not so adorable, not to mention indescribable in the sack I would never see him again.

  I do not know where you pick up these jerks stated Babbette; I have learned my lesson when it comes to men.

  A man is one of the reasons that I am now living here and I

  will tell you something else, I do not intend to ever become involve with anyone else for a long time to come.

  Just because you involved yourself with someone who hurt you does not mean that one day you are not going to meet mister right stated her friend winking at her.

  Let us chance the subject because you know that I will not get into a discussion about my love life stated Babbette.

  The women drove in silence with Babbette remembering how

  she had landed her job at the chic boutique three years ago. She had needed to get away from LA and found herself here in Atlanta too weary to drive another mile and settled into a hotel until she could find a job and a permanent home.

  It took her several days before she embarked on job hunting and after several rejections she found herself walking into a fashionable dress shop expecting to go home again defeated for the day.

  The owner Phylann watched as the beautiful five foot eleven inch frame entered into atrium of her shop and was immediately impressed with the woman. After a brief interview, she offered Babbette a position modeling that she gratefully accepted.

  She worked hard at the agency and enjoyed her work as a model and the unexpected salary that it provided. Yet the ghost of her past seemed to be always there haunting her like a heavy weight on her back constantly reminding her of everything that she wanted to forget.

  The traffic this morning was somewhat congested with the commuters going into the city to their jobs but Sieana was a good driver and maneuvered the car with dexterity and ease.

  The two good friends were total opposites. Whereas Babbette was tall, Siana barely stood five feet tall. She wore lots of soft curls thinking that it gave her added height. She was vivacious and always happy and often times dipping her fingers and nose into where it did not belong. It came as a total shock to people when she opened her mouth and began cursing so bad that the average sailor would blush.

  Siana was vivacious and always looking for adventure. It baffled her that Babbette did not seek the same enjoyment from life. Siana was always reminding her of all of her attributes and often reminded her that she loved her in spite of her unadventurous ways. She also reassured her constantly that she was happy that they had come to be good friends.

  She smiled looking at her friend who was now resting her head on the back of the seat with her eyes closed and wandered why she would not talk about anything personal.

  Noticing a shadow, she looked up in time to see a car about to sideswipe her.

  You S.O.B. she yelled at the person driving the black car as the driver sped down the road.

  Siana jammed on the breaks causing the car to lurch rousing Babbette as she pulled the car to the side of the road bringing it to a stop and she continued swearing long after the car had left her view.

  Her hands were shaking as she reached inside her purse lifting out a pack of cigarettes, one of the long thin kind removing one from the pack and placing it between her red painted lips. Using her sterling silver cigarette lighter, a gift from a former boyfriend she lit the cigarette taking a long drag from it inhaling deeply.

  Babbette had remained quiet watching her friend intently waiting for her to say something.

  I thought that you had given up smoking she stated not wanting to endure the silence any longer.

  I tried stated the woman taking a drag from her long cigarette but every time I think I have this habit licked something happens and I light up again.

  When that S O B almost ran us off the road it unnerved me.

  After a few minutes Siana snuffed out her cigarette composed enough to continue on with her drive.

  Are you sure that you have no idea as to who that car belongs to asked Babbette? You know that you are always getting yourself into trouble running your mouth at the wrong time.

  You do have a tendency to make many people quite angry.

  Maybe someone has it out for you.

  Hell no, I have no idea who that car belonged to. Never seen it before and you know I remember cars and who drives them.

  I have definitely never seen it before today and it is a good thing that I do not know who was driving it or they would have to answer to me.

  Sure, some people get pissed at me, but I do manage to try to stay away from lunatics.

  Should I remind you that even you earlier said that your new boyfriend acts rather uncivilized sometimes replied Babbette looking over at her friend with a smirk on her lips?

  I did not mean crazy; just somewhat peculiar acting sometimes, but I know that he would not hurt a fly she retorted.

  Well, maybe we should report this to the police remarked Babbette with that analytical mind of hers.

  That is ridiculous snapped her friend.

  We have no description of the car except that it was black. We do not have the license number to the car and we have no description of the person that was driving it. As a matter of fact, we do not even have a witness to verify what happened. Hell, the cops would probably say that we were probably imaging it as there is no damage to the car.

  I guess that you are right about that replied Babbette, but just the same, I do not like not doing anything.

  I too am extremely unnerved about this and since you are the one with the brains just what do you think that we should do ask Siana?

  Babbette was staring ahead not offering a solution and her friend only shook her head continuing to drive. Both remained silent during the next few miles into town. Siana finally pulled the convertible into her usual parking spot in the garage where they worked and when they disembark from the car they looked around anxiously but neither spoke of the earlier event.

  As they reached the elevator, the door opened with a blind man and his Seeing Eye dog stepping out. Both women spoke to him and watched the dog leading his master as it led him inch by inch towards the exit of the garage.

  They entered the elevator pushing the button to the tenth floor of the sixteen-floor building riding up in silence and stepping out into a lobby that smelled sweet from the scent of fresh cut flowers displayed daily among the greenery.

  On the far wall of the lobby the windows where constructed where one could overlook an expansive view of the city.

  The French provincial furniture presented a warm and elegant setting with Renaissance art gracing the walls.

  A water fountain with several alabaster sculptures of women in various poses was erected in the middle of the lobby and the fountain attracted everyone that passed it. There was hardly a time that you did not find someone tossing coins into it with dreams of making their wishes come true.

  What time will you be going to lunch Babbette finally asked her fri
end glancing at her wristwatch?

  It should be around two o’clock or a little after she replied.

  Good stated Babbette, the first show should be over by that time and I will meet you in the dining room.

  Siana turned going down the hall to station herself at her desk where she worked as the receptionist. She was able to see everyone who stepped off the elevator onto the floor and no person without a pass could go beyond her desk.

  The sound of Babbette’s high- heeled shoes echoed through the hall as she made her way down the black marbled floor to her dressing room. As she neared the door a figure came from around the corner startling her. She was relieved when she saw it was Miles, the makeup artist for the models.

  He seemed to be the first person in the building every morning. Sometimes Babbette wondered if he slept there at night.

  Good-morning he cheerfully called out.

  Are you ready to get started?

  Could you please give me a few minutes she asked?

  I need to make a telephone call.

  That is fine he stated walking and talking at the same time. I can grab another cup of coffee and Danish.

  She fished into her leather purse finally locating the keys to her dressing room. The room was ample in size and she had made it very comfortable for the amount of time she spent in it.

  She went to her extremely neat desk almost knocking over the large golden vat filled with white silk roses. Kicking off her shoes and propping herself onto a tapestry print covered lounge she grabbed the telephone and began to dial the number to her psychologist that she had been seeing for the past year and a half.

  Dr. Jermals office may I help you she heard a sultry voice say after several rings.

  This is Babbette and I need to get an appointment as soon as possible she replied. However we are very busy so it will have to be after six during this week.

  I have a cancellation tomorrow at six thirty shall I put you down for that time asked the woman?