Bethany K. Scanlon

  Coming Soon! 

Secrets of an Undercover Agent #3

The Downfall

Epilogue

“Sarah, I want you to sit down.” Brady had come home with a disturbed look on his face. I knew it wasn’t good. I promptly plopped myself on the couch while mentally preparing for the worst. “What is it?”

Brady sat next to me and placed his hand on my thigh. “Charise is dead. She died of a heart attack.”

“She lived a very long life. She must have been in her late 80’s.” I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that bad. I had kept tabs on Lady Marmalade over the years. She had been living in a retirement community. And unbeknownst to Brady, partially paid for by me. Brady opened his briefcase and pulled out two slightly tattered black hardbound books. He handed them to me. “What’s this?” I asked running my hand over the worn covers. Brady dead locked my eyes. “They’re diaries. Both have entries with 1954 dates. One is Charise’s and the other is your mother’s. We found them tied together in Charise’s belongings.” My heart seemed to stop. In fact, I’m pretty sure it did. Holding tight to the diaries I jumped off the couch and headed to my study. Locking the door, I crumpled to the floor as a quick shudder ran through me. Before I began reading, I breathed a short prayer. “Lord, help me get through this…”

Lady Marmalade

Prequel to Secrets of an Undercover Agent

Charise

 Abandoned is my real name. I thought as I moseyed into the living room where my mom sat in her rocking chair chain smoking. Our shotgun house reeked of hatred and greed.

“What is it?” I demanded. My step dad’s eyes flared at my insolence.

“Sit down. Your dad and I have to talk to you.” My mom motioned toward the loveseat.

A sickening creepiness tiptoed itself across my stomach, as I listened to them hash out my future.

“You’re a grown woman now. It’s time to start helping out around here.” My beastly step dad Charles began.

“You know how we make money, right?” My mom asked.

“I’ve known since I was ten.” I answered. I knew where this was going.

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” Charles interjected.

“That’s none of your business.” I retorted, mad. I’m not a virgin because you used to rape me behind my mom’s back! I thought indignantly to myself.

“Fact is, it’s time for you to pull your own weight around here.” My mom continued to rock back and forth. “We’ve kept a roof over your head, food in your belly and clothes on your back.”

“You’re not going to at least wait until I’m eighteen?” I asked, dreading her response.

“You’re already giving it away for free to that boyfriend of yours, you need to wise up and start getting paid.” Charles wagged a finger.

“Tonight we have a group of Navy boys ready to party. They’re only around eighteen or nineteen years old and they want someone young. The youngest girl we have right now is twenty two.”

I cut her off. “I get half the earnings.”

“Our standard is thirty percent.”

“Half or I won’t do it.”

Charles stood up, red-faced. “Listen you little whore, thirty percent is more than fair!”

I repeated my demand, undaunted. “Fifty percent or find yourself another girl.”

My mom stopped rocking and leaned forward. She puckered up her tired face and glared at me. “Forty percent, and that’s only because you’re my daughter.”

“Fifty percent, mom. And that’s final!”

Charles began to step toward me and I stood allowing my tough Creole nature to rise up and protect. “Hit me Charles and you’ll regret it.”

Charles stiffened. “You’ll work for thirty percent or you will get out of this house!”

I kept my tone steady. “Good idea. I’ll go out on my own and keep a hundred percent of the profits.”

“You will do no such thing Charise!” My mom was now standing.

I didn’t bother looking back as I walked out the door.

Eight years later, I had taken all of their business and was the top Madam in New Orleans. Two years ago, I moved my company, Lady Marmalade, to New York City.

 Building a business

“What’s your name?” I asked the skinny girl digging through a garbage can in Grand Central. She was bundled up tight in an old thick brown coat.

She looked at me with a tear stained face. After sizing me up briefly determining whether or not I was a threat, she answered. “Lauren.”

“Where are you going?” I often visited the train station looking for strays. I had found and developed thirty two runaways already. All they wanted was someone to love and look after them. We had become quite a family.

Lauren sniffled while sitting on the bench next to the garbage. “Don’t know.”

“Do you need a place to stay?” I asked, sitting next to her. The flecks of gold in her enticing eyes begged wantonness.

“What? I don’t even know you!” Lauren grabbed her coat and pulled it tighter while scooting to the end of the bench.

“Sorry I came on strong, I’m alarmed about a young lady sitting out here with no place to go.” I stuck out my hand placing emphasis on my French accent. “Charise Annabelle Dauphine.”

Lauren laughed halfheartedly and shook my hand.  She was a little too thin with very large blue green eyes and soft but bright blonde hair. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

Lauren nodded while fingering the gold cross pendant around her neck.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A gift from my mom. She gave it to me when I was water baptized.”

 “Where’s your mom now?” I prodded, feigning concern.

My question opened a floodgate of tears.

“She’s dead! They want to stick me in a foster home!” wailed Lauren.

“Where’s your dad?”

“I don’t know where he is!” Lauren stopped crying and coldness washed over her face.

“Are you in school?” I asked. Maybe I should do the right thing and find someone to take care of her.

“I want to go to aviator school. I’m going to be a pilot like Amelia Earhart one day!”  Lauren boldly proclaimed while holding tightly to every ounce of hope she had left. I now had leverage.

I clapped my hands together. “So you’re a fan too? I always tried to find something in common with a target. It built trust. The truth was I could have cared less about Amelia Earhart, or Lauren.

Lauren smiled. “Yes. I know about all of her flights. I’m her biggest fan.”

“How are you going to pay for aviator school?”

Sullenness draped her gorgeous face. “I don’t know.”

“You could work for me. In fact I’ll let you stay at my house until you earn enough money for school.”

Lauren’s face brightened. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course.”

“What’s the job?”

“Oh, it’s fairly easy. Do you like to go to fancy restaurants and parties?”

“I’ve never been to either.”

“Do you know how to dance?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I’ll have to train you.”

Lauren began to get excited. “Can you tell me more?”

“Sometimes wealthy men have to go to parties and fancy dinners to do business deals. They believe that the business deal will go well if a pretty lady accompanies them.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It’s a lot of fun. I have other ladies who work for me too. Twelve of them live with me right now so you’ll   share a room.”

“And you’ll teach me how to dance?”

“Absolutely.”

Feel free to email me! bethany@bethanykscanlon.com