Betrayed Chapter 8

I had embarked upon a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse. I wasn't one to sit back and let events run their course, regardless of the outcome. That is not what commodity traders do. I was determined to discover the nature of the 'hammer', and who was dropping it on me.

I had my attorney and his investigator on my side. I had not divulged anything about 'Lisa' to them; at least, not yet. My attorney would have had a stroke, with such a revelation coming on the heels of the warning he had just given me. I could not go to The Media. Publicity was the one thing I was trying to avoid at all costs. If the story did break at this point, the conspirators would simply crawl back under their rock and gloat, having accomplished what they set out to do.

I could not go to the police, either. I had learned enough through Dianna and the girls at Ringers to know cops abuse transgenders worse than Society at large. In their eyes, 'Lisa Layne, Executive Vice-President' would appear to be a T-girl scam of epic proportions. At the same time, Jeff Spencer was an idol to every macho jerk in Chicago – particularly the ones wearing badges. Chicago's Finest would more likely take Susan and Jeff's side than mine, unless I could provide iron-clad proof of criminal conduct on their part.

I would have to draw the conspirators out in the open to obtain that proof. To accomplish that, I would need to dangle some bait. Hey, maybe I was in the fishing business after all.

Rob didn't know that heavyweight plastic surgeon personally, but Jim did. His ex-wife swore by the doctor's work – and she had reason(s) to know. Rob gave his enthusiastic Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval and Jim made the call. Chicago is all about Clout; Rob and Jim had it. Yeah, that's right; Five PM, that afternoon, offices on Superior Street, for the consultation.

Before I kept that appointment, I needed to get with Paul, A.S.A.P.

I was glad I didn't have to give up the Mercedes when I gave up 'Lance'.