Intimate Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page A

people.
    “Glad to hear you and she are getting along. Let me know if you have any problems.”
    “Right, sir. I will.”
    You’d better, asshole,
McEnemey thought as he hung up.
    Fletcher put down the cell phone. He felt a tightness in his belly. He didn’t like the way Paul McEnemey condescended to him.
     And he hated the way he, in return, had to kiss ass.
    But he liked this job. He liked being in charge, ordering people around. He liked the way they kissed
his
ass when they wanted something.
    Fletcher took a quick back-and-forth in the trailer he used as an office. It was parked in the vacant lot adjoining the job
     site, along with the other construction company trailers and subcontractors’ vans and cars. He liked his trailer and thought
     of it as a cozy little home. He had a computer, a cellular phone, a small fridge where he could store sandwiches and beer,
     and a microwave to heat coffee and frozen pizza. There was even a narrow bed along one side, and a can in the back. He used
     both a lot more often than his employer realized. It was better than going home to that cutesy little apartment in the Castro.
     Never shoulda moved in there—the district was full of dykes and queers.
    He reran through his mind the conversation he’d just had with McEnemey. The man was a prick, but Fletcher knew that he’d just
     have to bite back his anger and pretend to have some respect for him. But he wasn’t ever going to forget that his first loyalty
     was not to McEnemey Construction but to the building’s architect, Sam Brody.
    Brody was all right. He’d done a lot for him, and, much as Fletcher hated to be indebted to any man, he had to admitthat he owed Brody. He’d never have gotten this job if Brody hadn’t taken a liking to him.
    Brody had known about his trouble but had been willing to overlook it, which had astonished Fletcher at the time. After all,
     Brody was a golden boy—rich and sophisticated, the type you’d think would sniff in disgust when confronted with the brutal
     facts of a man’s ugly past. What did a society boy like Brody know about life in the real world, the down and dirty world
     of black hearts and mean fists?
    “I don’t believe in judging men solely by their pasts,” the golden boy had said. “What I want to know is this: Are you a stand-up
     guy I can trust right now—today, next month, a year from now? That’s all I care about.”
    “I want to bury the past, bury it deep,” Fletcher had replied. “If you’ll help me do that, you’ll find out that I’m one helluva
     stand-up guy.”
    “Okay,” Brody had said. “You’ve got yourself a job.”
    Brody had kept his word. He’d never once thrown Fletcher’s prison record in his face. He’d never even looked at him funny.
     He’d trusted him completely, and he’d gone to bat for him with McEnerney.
    Fletcher considered himself Brody’s man. He intended to do his damnedest never to let him down.
    Fletcher went to the doorway of his trailer and watched Sam Brody enter the cathedral with the designer and project manager,
     Ms. Jefferson.
    Annie Jefferson.
    Annie.

Chapter Four
    Everything went smoothly as Annie led the visitors through the site, pointing out to them the special details of the beautiful
     building. She was explaining about the installation of the handcrafted stained glass panels, when they all heard the sounds
     of an altercation down at the west end of the cathedral, under the scaffolding for the mammoth rose window that was going
     in at the traditional position above the cathedral’s main entrance.
    Two male voices were raised in anger, and, as they all turned toward the noise, a young man swung down recklessly from the
     scaffolding where he had been working. He made an obscene hand gesture to the man who was still high up on the scaffolding
     above the choir loft, then he stalked off the site.
    “Any idea what that was all about?” Sam asked.
    Annie explained that the rude young man was Vico,