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Part Four
During our last installment, Trixie and Honey got Dan up to speed on
the specifics of the case. Jim remained in the hospital for observation.
At the Sun… Mart
Belden groaned as he repeatedly tapped the backspace button on the keyboard
of his computer. For someone that loved words as well as he, he failed to find
them now. Every single thing he typed missed the mark. He’d never had so much
trouble completing an assignment, even when he was wet behind the ears as a
rookie reporter. It wasn’t that he lacked interest in the subject of his
article; on the contrary, he had too
much interest in it. Perhaps that’s what made this so difficult. He was too
close to the situation to separate himself from it.
In order to relay an accurate account to his readers, he needed to be
objective. In this case, it just wasn’t possible. His editor
had assigned him the task of writing an article about Amanda Woodward’s
murder. Mart loved his job, and he wasn’t overly fond of Jim’s former
fiancée. However, he found no joy in contributing to the media avalanche
surrounding the premature death of the beautiful socialite. To the masses,
Amanda was a sensational storyline being covered by all the news outlets of
the world. To Mart, she was an acquaintance whose life had been snuffed out
by a psychopath. “I never
should’ve accepted this assignment,” he muttered under his breath. Brenda
Singleton, the columnist that sat in the cubicle across from his, raised her
head, her ears burning with the prospect of gossip. She was just as curious
as Trixie, but Brenda’s curiosity was paired with a sick obsession for
spreading rumors. Her eyes remained
peeled and her ears perked with the hope of gleaning some bit of juicy news. Mart had
once joked that Brenda survived on rumors the way other humans lived on oxygen.
She lived to pass on useless drivel to anyone willing to listen―or
unable to escape. Mart had once spent an unpleasant twenty minutes listening
to Brenda dish the dirt on the employees of the local hair salon. He hadn’t
known a single one of the stylists, but that hadn’t mattered to Brenda. She
simply had to tell everything she
heard. Brenda had
been the obvious choice to write the Sun’s
“About Town” column. She never failed to provide her readers with a steady
stream of gossip centered around the citizens of
Sleepyside. She was wise enough to avoid including names, yet she managed to
make the identity of each subject crystal clear. The facts were mingled with
a smidgeon of fiction, and Brenda tended to exaggerate and draw some
outrageous conclusions. No matter how outlandish her information was, she
never had to provide a source since she never included names. If a reader
happened to recognize himself in the column and lodged a complaint, Brenda
would point out that she hadn’t mentioned anyone by name. It was her “get out
of jail free” card, and she used it frequently and avoided any
accountability. As long as readers kept subscribing, the editor was
happy. And, much to Mart’s chagrin as
a true journalist, Brenda’s gossip column was one of the paper’s most popular
features. The more rumors she spread, the more papers they sold. Because of
her reputation as a gossip, Brenda Singleton was the one person to whom Mart
didn’t care to speak, today in particular. Everyone knew of his connection to
Amanda. Brenda would be salivating for a scoop she could share with that crew
of nosy biddies with whom she associated. He mentally kicked himself for
drawing her attention. “What’s
wrong, Mart?” she asked, her innocent expression ineffectively masking her
malicious intentions. “Nothing,”
he answered. Using some of the acting tips he’d gleaned from Diana through
the years, he flashed her a dimpled smile. “My
fingers just got tangled in the keys and caused me to type a bunch of
gobbledygook.” Peering over
at him through the huge glasses perched on her nose,
Brenda resembled an owl with her magnified, wide eyes. “Are you having
trouble with your story?” “No, not at all. Why would you think that?”
Mart
resisted the urge to gag at Brenda’s obviously feigned compassion. “Why is that?” “Well,
everyone knows that poor girl was engaged to Jim Frayne, and Jim’s one of
your best friends. Because of that connection, I’m sure it must be difficult
to cover Amanda’s death.” “It
certainly isn’t easy.” Brenda nodded,
her features carefully trained in an expression of sympathy. “How’s Jim
doing? I’ll bet he’s just devastated.” Since he was
naturally blessed with the gift of gab, it was a struggle for Mart to keep
his response to a minimum. However, when dealing with Brenda, he was reminded
of KISS, an acronym he’d once heard―keep it short, stupid! “Yeah, he
is,” was his vague reply. Anyone else
would’ve respected the fact that Mart didn’t care to discuss this topic and
changed it, but not Brenda. Determined to get some inside info, she continued
to elicit every single tidbit possible much like an oral surgeon would
extract a tooth with stubborn, tangled roots. “Do the
police have any suspects yet?” “I don’t
know.” “Do you have any guesses who the killer might be?” she prodded hopefully. “Nope, I
sure don’t.” Brenda
exhaled noisily, visibly frustrated that she hadn’t gotten more from Mart.
“Well, it certainly is a tragedy, and goodness knows that Jim has had his
share of those in his short life. It almost makes you wonder if the poor boy
is cursed.” Mart refused
to dignify that comment with a response. “Of course,
these things happen for a reason,” she murmured. “Just between you and me, I
never thought Jim and Amanda made a good couple. Jim’s the salt of the earth,
but from everything I’ve seen, that fiancée of his seemed like a real diva.
Amanda certainly did her best to avoid Sleepyside. I guess we weren’t classy
enough for her. At least, I’m assuming
that’s why I never saw her around town…” Clearly
Brenda was waiting for Mart to respond to her bait, but he refused to bite.
She decided to put something else on her hook. “Yes, sirree, I wish Jim all the best,” she continued.
“Goodness knows he deserves it. You’d never meet a nicer guy, with the
exception of you, of course, Mart. All you Bob-Whites are just as sweet as
you can be. So beloved by the entire community…” Mart was
wise enough to avoid getting stuck in the trap Brenda had set for him. He’d
seen several unfortunate souls find themselves hopelessly stuck in the pool
of sugary syrup that dripped from Brenda’s lips. “Yes, I
certainly wish Jim the best,” she went on. “I only hope he can bounce back
and find happiness someday. Speaking of that, do you know who I wish Jim
would end up with? Not right away, of course, but after he’s had a chance to
grieve. Do you know who I’m talking about, Mart? Do you?” Mart sighed
wearily. In the name of all that was good, why had he talked to himself? He
should’ve known better. He’d worked long enough with Brenda to know how she
operated. He should’ve sat in his cubicle, holding his breath and not moving
a muscle. If he’d done that, maybe Brenda would’ve left him alone. Unlikely,
but there would have been a slim chance… “Do you,
Mart?” Brenda repeated for the fourth time. Knowing she
would continue to pester him until he responded, Mart buckled. “No, I’m
afraid I don’t, Brenda.” “Well, that
should be obvious, Mart! The answer is your sister― Trixie! Really, I
can’t believe you didn’t think of it yourself. Those two were made for each
other, and now fate has given them a second chance. Maybe Jim’s luck is finally
changing.” Mart was
tempted to tell Brenda that he had a feeling she’d get her wish, but he knew
if he did, it would spread like wildfire. Instead, he bit his tongue and
prayed Brenda would go back to work. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. Brenda
leaned across her desk and assumed a conspiratorial tone. “I was at the
country club at the big New Year’s Eve party. Goodness knows I always mind my own business, and I
wasn’t trying to spy on anyone, but
I saw Jim and Trixie sitting
together at that big table with you and the rest of your group.” Mart braced
himself. Oh, boy. Here we go… Brenda
motioned for him to come closer. “Just between you and me, those two looked
awfully cozy, but rest assured, I didn’t say a peep to anyone. Not a peep!” Huh, between you and me? Mart
thought bitterly. More like between you
and me and the rest of Sleepyside! “You know
me, Mart. I’ve never been one to
speculate, but as chummy as those two looked, I thought for sure that he and
Amanda had broken up and that he and Trixie had gotten together,” she
elaborated. “I mean, that’s the logical conclusion, isn’t it? As honorable as
Jim is, he’d never cheat on his fiancée. No, not Jim Frayne.” Lord, I’ve never been one to wish ill on someone, but if You’d
see fit to strike this woman deaf, dumb, and blind, I wouldn’t complain, was Mart’s silent prayer. “Then, when
I saw them kiss at midnight, I was sure
I’d pegged it!” Brenda’s voice grew louder and more high-pitched with each
detail she revealed. “Why, I was so sure I was right that I checked the
supermarket tabloids first thing Thursday morning to see if Jim had broken
his engagement. Mind you, I usually don’t read that trash, but I figured the
gossip rags would be the first ones to break the news. But I didn’t find a
peep about Jim and Amanda in any of them. Not a peep!” She looked
expectantly at Mart for a reaction, but much to her disappointment, he
maintained a poker face. This time
when she spoke, her voice was much quieter. “You can imagine my disappointment
since I’ve always wanted Jim to end
up with Trixie. You know me, Mart―I’m constantly thinking of others.
Why, I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told that I’m considerate to
a fault. It could be my besetting sin.” Mart bit his
tongue a little harder, this time bringing blood. “Well, I
wasn’t sure what to think, but I knew there had to be a reasonable
explanation. After all, Jim has more character in his little finger than most
men have in their whole bodies. And Trixie… What a lovely girl! So refined
and ladylike.” Mart had to
choke back a snort. He was tempted to ask Brenda if she’d suffered any blows
to the head recently. He knew that as thick as she was laying it on, she must
be working up to something big. “Then I
remembered that it was New Year’s Eve, and a person just has to kiss someone at
midnight on New Year’s Eve, so that kiss must not have meant anything. From
where I was sitting, it looked like the kind of kiss that would curl your
toes, but what do I know?” Brenda’s lips pursed in a scowl. “I’ve never seen
Jim and Trixie alone together since. Sure, I’ve seen them together around
town, but they don’t appear to be dating. They always have at least one or
two other people with them, and nobody has seen them act lovey-dovey. I guess
that kiss was nothing more than two friends taking part in a holiday
tradition. I was so disappointed.” Mart
couldn’t tell if Brenda really believed that or if she suspected something
was going on between Jim and Trixie and wanted confirmation. Regardless, he
wasn’t falling into her trap. Anything he said would be twisted in a negative
slant and spread around town in a matter of minutes. As much as he longed to
set the old biddy straight and afterwards tell her off, he sat there and kept
his mouth shut. Brenda made
a tsk-tsk sound with her tongue. “You can’t
help but wonder if it would’ve been better for Jim if he had broken his engagement. I mean, he’d still grieve for Amanda
as a friend, but at least he’d have Trixie. Now, not only is he alone, he’s
landed right smack dab in the middle of a media
frenzy.” Although
Mart didn’t say anything, one single brow shot up in sardonic disbelief. He
wasn’t sure where Brenda was going with this, but he was interested in
finding out. “My heart
just breaks for him,” she remarked, trying her best to squeeze out a tear.
“Why, he lost his father and his mother as a boy, and now he’s lost his
bride-to-be. I only hope he isn’t blaming himself.” “Why would
he do that?” The words were out before Mart could stop them. “Well, because
everyone Jim loves dies.” Brenda held up her hand in protest. “Don’t get me
wrong. I don’t think he actually pulled the trigger. Goodness knows I’d never insinuate something as terrible
as that. But you have to admit that it is
a coincidence that so many of his loved ones have ended up dead. If I didn’t
know better, I’d think he was cursed! Have you ever thought that, Mart? Have
you?” “No, I can
honestly say that I haven’t, Brenda,” Mart snapped. “Well, he
may not be cursed, but he certainly is
unlucky. You can’t argue with that, can you, Mart?” Mart
couldn’t, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Brenda. Brenda
wasn’t bothered by Mart’s lack of response. “Of course, if anyone can bounce
back, it’s Jim. Look how well things turned out for him after his mother’s
sudden death. Not every orphan is adopted by one of the wealthiest families
in the United States. How fortunate for Jim that his father was so close to
Matthew Wheeler. Other kids in his situation would be shipped off to a foster
home or an orphanage, but Jim ended up in a palatial country estate. I’d say
he made out fairly well. Wouldn’t you?” If looks
could kill, there would be one less busybody in the world because the look
Mart shot Brenda was downright deadly. He could bite his tongue no longer.
“Anyone that knows Jim knows he couldn’t care less about money,” he asserted.
“He’d trade every penny he has in exchange for the lives of his biological
parents.” “Oh, sure,
but you’ve got to admit that it worked out better for him than it does most,”
Brenda said, ignoring Mart’s blatant hostility. “If your parents are going to
die, you might as well get yourself adopted by American royalty.” “Get yourself adopted?” Mart repeated
with a snarl. “Lady, I’m not sure where you got your information, but you’d
better check your sources. Getting adopted by the
Wheelers was the last thing on Jim’s mind! In fact, he ran away and didn’t
plan on coming back. Matt and Maddie had to seek
him out to tell him they wanted to adopt him. Furthermore, Jim didn’t even know that Matt was his dad’s best
friend in college. When Jim came to Sleepyside, he was looking for his
great-uncle, not Matthew Wheeler.” Brenda
nodded eagerly. “Ah yes, that is
right. As I recall, James Frayne the First left a sizable inheritance to Jim.
It’s such a shame that the old man passed away so unexpectedly after his
nephew arrived in Sleepyside. Just another reason to wonder if Jim is
cursed…” “Exactly
what are you insinuating?” “Oh,
nothing, nothing at all,” she answered in her most angelic voice. “I’m just
pointing out yet another one of those unhappy coincidences. James Frayne was
the picture of health until Jim came to town.” “The man was
82-years old and too miserly to buy himself a decent
meal!” Mart exploded. “The picture of
health, my foot! He died of pneumonia complicated by malnutrition. Do you
actually think Jim infected him with the sickness? And I suppose it was Jim’s
fault that his uncle hadn’t eaten a decent meal in ages?” “Don’t be
ridiculous, Mart. Nobody would believe that Jim withheld food from James.
That’s just silly.” Mart noticed
Brenda didn’t address the possibility that Jim had caused the elderly man’s
illness. “Jim wasn’t even in
Sleepyside when his uncle got sick,” he pointed out. “By the time he arrived
at Ten Acres, my dad had already taken him to the hospital.” “How
convenient for Jim,” she remarked in an offhand manner. Nearing his
boiling point, Mart pointed his index finger at her. “I don’t know what you’ve
been smoking, but you’re crazy! You’ve been watching too much Nancy Grace.
For someone that supposedly admires Jim so much, you sure are accusing him of
some awful things.” “Why, I’ve
done no such thing, Mart Belden,” Brenda protested, placing her hand over her
heart and assuming a wounded expression. “I’ve told you repeatedly that these deaths are a horrible coincidence. I’m
Jim’s biggest fan. I think the world of that boy, bless his heart.” “Sure you
do,” Mart spat. “I’m warning you, Brenda, if any of those lies end up in your
column, Jim will sue you for libel so fast your head will spin. And don’t
think you can worm your way out of it by claiming you didn’t use any names. I
heard you make these accusations with my own ears, and I’d be happy to testify
on Jim’s behalf.” “Why, Mart!
How can you think so little of me? After what a good friend I’ve been to you?
I believe I’ve made it clear that Jim is unlucky. I never once said that he
killed anyone. Furthermore, even if I did
believe such a thing, I’d never level such ugly accusations in my column
without proof. After all, I am a serious journalist; I only
publish the facts.” This time,
Mart was unable to hold back his snort of derision. If Brenda heard it, she
didn’t acknowledge it. “As I’ve
said time and time again, poor Jim is merely the victim of coincidence,” she
reiterated. “I’m talking candidly with you, friend to friend. I would never breathe a word of this to anyone
else. My job requires me to tell tales occasionally, but when I leave the office,
I zip my lips. I have a reputation of being the most trustworthy person you
could ever meet. Hey, when I hear something questionable, I put it in the
vault, and nobody is able to get it out.” Mart’s eyes
narrowed into suspicious slits. He knew Brenda was feeding him a load of
crap. Even if she didn’t plan to
include her suspicions in her column, she’d share them with anyone she could
force to listen. Before he could voice his concerns, Brenda’s cell phone
rang. “Nice
talking to you, Mart. Please pass along my condolences to Jim,” she said
before answering the call. “Hello? Hey, girl! Have you been following the
murder of Amanda Woodward? Did you know that I work with Amanda’s fiancé’s
best friend? Can you believe that?” Mart expelled
a shaky sigh of relief as Brenda took her cell phone into the break room to
continue her conversation in private. He was trembling with fury, but if he
wanted to complete this assignment, he’d have to block out any outside
distraction. “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” he muttered,
refocusing on his computer screen. He’d managed
to write a few paragraphs when another unwelcome visitor stopped by his desk.
Resisting the urge to groan, Mart stopped typing midsentence to look up at
Bill Morgan, the Sun’s photographer
and his erstwhile blackmailer. “Just when I
thought my day couldn’t get any worse,” he mumbled, not bothering to hide his
exasperation. “What can I do for you, Bill? I’m kind of busy here, so I’m
willing to do almost anything to get you out of my hair as quickly as
possible. Unless you’re looking for more blackmail money, that is. I’m flat
broke until payday, so you’ll have to extort someone else.” A pained
expression marred Bill’s good-looking features. “Mart, I need to talk to you.
It’s really important.” Mart leaned
back in his chair and motioned for Bill to speak. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.” Bill glanced
nervously at Brenda’s vacant desk. Although the busybody wasn’t there now,
that didn’t mean she wouldn’t return at an untimely moment, as she was often
prone to do. “How about we go to Wimpy’s and grab a
cup of coffee?” Sensing Bill
had some significant news, Mart agreed. “All right. After the craptastic day I’ve had, I could use a break right about
now, and a cup of coffee sounds good.” The coworkers
made the short trip to the neighborhood diner without speaking a word. Their
relationship had once been cordial; Mart had considered Bill a friend until
the blackmailing debacle. He’d barely spoken to Bill since. Neither
bothered making small talk. They claimed a booth in the back and ordered two
cups of coffee, which were brought to them almost immediately. Unwilling to
speak first, Mart sat quietly, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Bill to
begin the conversation. Bill cleared
his throat. “First of all, I’m really sorry about Amanda. Please pass on my
condolences to Jim.” Mart’s
response was a curt nod. “I know you
don’t think much of me ever since I took those pictures of Jim and Trixie,”
Bill continued. “Oh, I don’t
have a problem with the photos. I mean, you should’ve been minding your own
business, but it’s a free country, and you can take whatever pictures you
like. The problem began when you used them as blackmail. Maybe I’m petty, but
I take offense when a supposed friend illegally extorts money from me.” Bill had the
grace to blush guiltily. “Fair enough. I shouldn’t have taken those pictures
in the first place. I was snapping random shots when I saw Jim and Trixie
dancing, and then I saw them kiss. It just seemed like a prime photo op.” “It was New
Year’s Eve,” Mart interjected. “Everybody in that ballroom was kissing
someone.” “True, but
you’ve got to admit that that was some kiss,” Bill said with a smirk.
“That’s none of my business, though, but unfortunately I didn’t come to that
conclusion until it was too late. This may surprise you, but I was actually
going to destroy them. I always liked Jim, so I never intended to do anything
sleazy with them.” Mart
snorted. “Of course you didn’t.” “I don’t blame
you for doubting me, but I’m telling the truth, Mart. I had a pair of
scissors in one hand and the pictures in the other when Jane showed up at my
place. She saw them and wanted to sell them to one of those gossip magazines.
I couldn’t do that to Jim and Trixie, so that’s why I suggested we sell them
to you instead.” “You mean, that’s why you suggested blackmailing me?” Mart
corrected dryly. Bill hung his head and stared into his
half-empty coffee cup. “I know what we did was wrong, Mart, but I was
desperate to get Jane off my back. As soon as she saw those photos, she got
dollar signs in her eyes. She was determined to make some money, and I
decided selling them to you was the lesser of two evils. Di’s family is
loaded; I figured you could spare a few bucks.” “For future
reference, Di and I don’t bum money off her parents; we pay our own way,”
Mart informed him hotly. “The money I gave you came from the savings account
that we keep for emergencies.” Since he was getting a twisted form of joy
from Bill’s guilt, Mart didn’t bother telling him that Jim had reimbursed
him. “I’m truly
sorry about that, but I hope you understand that I was looking out for your
friends.” Although he
hated to admit it, Bill’s words rang true. Still, he wasn’t quite ready to
let Bill off the hook. “Well, I appreciate that, Bill, but next time I hope
your concern doesn’t cost me $500.” “Don’t
worry. If I ever take any more incriminating pictures, I’ll keep them hidden,
especially if I know Jane’s coming over. I’ve learned my lesson the hard
way.” Mart’s face
ruffled with confusion. “What does Jane have to do with this anyway? Those
were your pictures. Even if you had sold them, she didn’t deserve a
dime of it.” “Jane needed
money, and I didn’t have any to give her.” Bill appeared to age ten years at
the mention of his sister’s troubles. “If she hadn’t been so desperate, I
never would’ve considered resorting to blackmail. I’ve never done anything
like that before, and I don’t plan to ever do it again. However, Jane made it
clear that if I didn’t get her that $500, she’d take those pictures and give
them to Paul Trent. He’s been trying to sell something to The National Enquirer for years, and
those photos would’ve been his golden ticket.” The anger
Mart previously had felt towards Bill melted into pity. Unlike Brenda, Bill
was telling the truth. The talk around town was that Jane had a drug problem,
and Mart knew firsthand how heartbreaking it was to fret over a wayward
sibling. Although Bobby’s situation wasn’t as serious as Jane’s, Mart could
imagine how Bill felt. “Bill, it
may be none of my business, but the best thing you could do for Jane is stop
giving her money,” he advised. “You’re just enabling her.” Bill’s pale
green eye color intensified. “That sounds good in principle, but sometimes
it’s not that simple. This was a matter of life or death. Jane owed that
money to the wrong person, and she was past due on paying it back. She’s lied before to get what she wanted, but it wasn’t like
that this time. She was really scared, Mart. Her life was in danger. I
would’ve sold my soul to the devil to help her.” “So instead
of dealing with the devil, you blackmailed a friend?” “Yeah, I
guess so,” Bill confirmed with a rueful smile. “You might think less of me,
but if I had to, I’d do it again. I’d do anything to protect Jane. She’s my
sister, and I love her, even if she is messed up.” “Enough
said.” Although he wasn’t as obvious about it as Brian, Mart was fiercely
protective of Trixie, even if it meant putting himself in harm’s way. He couldn’t
fault Bill for being equally protective of Jane. “Thanks for
understanding,” Bill said, his voice husky. Mart nodded.
“I still don’t like what you did, but I do understand why you did it. No
matter how old they get, they’ll always be our little sisters. Sometimes as
big brothers we have to take one for the team.” “Yeah, we
do.” “I only hope
that Jane learned her lesson and doesn’t borrow from the wrong person again,”
Mart remarked. “At least all the pictures were destroyed.” The guilty
expression returned to Bill’s face, and his gaze refocused on his coffee cup.
Mart knew
immediately that something was terribly wrong. “Bill? What is it?” Bill’s voice
was barely above a whisper. “I thought I destroyed them all.” “You thought?” Mart echoed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The sick look
on Bill’s face told him all he needed to know. “For the love of all things
holy, Bill! What’re you talking about?” Instead of
answering Mart’s question with words, Bill opened his satchel and pulled
something out of it. “I could get into a lot of trouble for showing you
this.” “Showing me what?” “God as my
witness, I never intended for this to happen, Mart,” Bill murmured, a
contrite expression on his face as he laid a newspaper down on the table. “A
buddy of mine works at The Post.
This is the issue that’s hitting the newsstands in the morning. He knows I’m
friends with Jim, so he sent this to me, on the condition that I wouldn’t
share it with anyone else. I agreed, but once I saw what it was, I knew I had
to give you a head’s up.” Mart was
known for having a stomach made of stainless steel, and it took a lot to make
him physically ill. However, one glimpse of the picture taking up most of the
front page was enough to make him queasy. Bile rose in his throat as he
looked at the photograph of Jim and Trixie; it had been taken during the New
Year’s Eve party at the country club. If that wasn’t enough to make him sick,
the headline would’ve finished the job. “The
Grieving Groom-to-Be?” was written in large bold print under the picture. “How did…
How did the Post get this?” he
rasped. “I thought you gave me all the pictures you took that night?” “I did! I
gave you every single one them, just like I promised!” “Then where
did this come from?” Mart growled. Bill shook
his head weakly. “I honestly don’t know, Mart. Maybe I wasn’t the only one
snapping pictures that night.” “No, I’m
positive this is one of yours! I specifically remember seeing it with the
others.” “It does
look like one of mine,” Bill admitted. “But I swear on my mother’s grave that
I gave you all the photos of Jim and Trixie that I took that night.” Mart’s
entire body shook from the effort of bridling his fury. “What about the
negatives? When I asked for them, you told me that you’d already destroyed
them.” “I did!”
Bill insisted. “Are you
sure you didn’t lay one or two aside for a rainy day?” “No, Mart, I
swear on a stack of Bibles that I got rid of the entire roll of film. Jane
and I burned every single one of those negatives!” “You let Jane help you?” Mart slapped the palm
of his hand against his forehead. “Are you really that stupid, Bill?” “What are
you insinuating?” “I’m not
insinuating anything,” Mart informed him. “I’m flat out telling you that your
no-good sister stole one of those negatives and sold it to the Post!” Bill shook
his head. “No, that can’t be it. Jane’s got a lot of problems, but she isn’t
completely heartless. She wouldn’t do that you, and most of all, she wouldn’t
do that to me.” “Stop
kidding yourself, Bill,” Mart snarled. “You don’t
understand! Jane felt really guilty about blackmailing you, especially since
it was her idea to sell the pictures in the first place. She said the only
way she could make up for it was to help destroy them.” “You really are that stupid!” Mart thundered. “Of
course she wanted to help… or rather, help herself to those photos when you
weren’t looking!” “No, Jane
wouldn’t do that.” One of
Mart’s sandy eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Oh, really? Do you mean to tell
me that she would get hooked on drugs, risk her life by not paying her
dealer, and screw around with married men, but she wouldn’t steal a negative
or two from her brother? Use your frickin’ brain,
man!” “Jane might
not be a goody-two-shoes, but she wouldn’t betray me
like that.” Bill’s voice sounded more hopeful than confident. “Sure she
would,” Mart spat. “Don’t fool yourself, Bill. She’d do that and a whole lot
worse to get a fix. She’s an addict, and the only thing she cares about is
getting high.” Still
unwilling to believe his sister would do such a thing, Bill shook his head
numbly. “There must be another explanation…” “She screwed
you, pal.” Mart clutched a fistful of sandy hair as he looked down at the
enlarged image of Jim and Trixie. “She screwed you, she screwed me, and most
of all, she screwed Trixie and Jim.” “I’m so
sorry, Mart—” “Sorry? That
doesn’t even begin to cover it!” “Well, at
least that picture isn’t as bad as some of the others.” Mart cursed under
his breath. Jim and Trixie had been completely oblivious that they were being
photographed. Like the others, this picture had been taken on the dance
floor. Jim’s head was turned slightly to the side; however, you could clearly
tell it was him from the profile. This particular shot prominently featured
Trixie as she gazed up at Jim. It was obvious by her expression that she was
in love with him. “It’s bad
enough,” Mart muttered. “Has the article been printed?” Bill nodded.
“Turn to page three. Once again, it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. Like I
said, I could get into a lot of trouble for giving you a sneak peek, but I
feel like I owe you.” Wincing as
if he were picking up a hot coal rather than a newspaper article, Mart
flipped to the correct page. “Well, what a surprise!” he exclaimed, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. “This story was written by Trent Pauley. Gee, I wonder
who that is. I’m sure it isn’t Sleepyside’s own reporter extraordinaire, Paul
Trent. No, even he isn’t stupid enough to pick a pseudonym that obvious.” Bill cringed
as Mart skimmed through the article. He had already read it, and in his
opinion, it wasn’t that bad. It was the typical drivel one read in gossip
rags. However, Bill wasn’t aware of all the facts. “ ‘Is this the face of a
grieving groom-to-be?’ ” Mart read aloud. “ ‘Rumors are circulating that the
relationship between James Winthrop Frayne the Second and the recently
murdered Amanda Woodward wasn’t as blissful as the public was led to believe.
Sources tell us the handsome philanthropist attended a New Year’s Eve party
in his hometown of Sleepyside by himself. Rather than taking his wife-to-be,
Jim chose to go stag, a fact that baffles this writer. With his beautiful
fiancée nowhere in sight, Jim danced the night away with a former girlfriend.
In spite of his reputation for being quite the Boy Scout, Jim’s behavior on
that evening was anything but honorable. He and his onetime lover canoodled
the entire night, and according to one eyewitness, the pair shared a
smoldering kiss at midnight. By the looks of the photograph, Jim’s “friend”
seemed quite smitten with him. One has to wonder if the two are more than
dancing partners. It certainly causes one to question his fidelity to his
now-deceased fiancée, and if Jim is guilty of stepping out on Amanda, could
he be guilty of a far worse crime?’ ” His
lips clamped into a contemptuous jeer, Mart threw the paper on the table.
“Just like I expected— typical Paul Trent trash. He never has been able to
write his way out of a wet paper bag.” “Paul’s
career hasn’t gone anywhere in over a decade. He’s desperate to get hired by
a national publication.” “Still, I can’t believe he’d stoop
to this,” Mart commented. “Not only is he spreading a bunch of filthy lies
about people I care for, he’s trampling on the memory of an innocent woman.
The man has no integrity.” “Surely
that doesn’t surprise you.” “No,
it doesn’t surprise me, but it does
sicken me. That douche bag has had a vendetta against Trixie since we were
kids, and I get that. But to trash Amanda just to further his cause? That’s
below the belt.” Bill shrugged. “At least he didn’t mention
Trixie by name.” “I’m
sure his motive wasn’t to protect her,” Mart groused. “He probably hoped that
if he strung them along, The Post would
ask him to write a follow-up. The press will be dying to figure out who she
is. Sleepyside will be buzzing with reporters trying to get the scoop. Mark
my words, this isn’t the last article we see from
Trent Pauley.” “C’mon,
Mart, it really isn’t that bad.” Mart’s
body shook from the effort of restraining his fury. Already reeling from his
conversation with Brenda, he was teetering on the edge. “That’s easy for you
to say. Nobody’s writing articles trashing your slutty sister, and if anyone
belongs in the Enquirer, it’s Jane.
Trixie doesn’t deserve this.” “Now
wait a minute―” “No,
you wait a minute,” Mart fumed,
poking his index finger against Bill’s chest. “Don’t tell me it isn’t that
bad. Unlike you, I’m not stupid! I know how the newspaper business works.
Scandal sells, and this trash is going to fly off the stands.” “It’s
only one article―” “You
think it’s going to stop with this one article?” Contempt laced Mart’s laugh.
“This is just the beginning, Bill. Those vultures won’t stop there. They’ll
go on and on, digging up every bit of dirt they can find. And if they can’t
find any, they’ll make it up. This could ruin their lives, and you don’t even
get it.” “Calm
down, Mart. It’s not that bad.” “Shut
your mouth, Bill,” Mart threatened. “Don’t tell me it isn’t that bad. You don’t have any idea how
bad it is!” “It
can’t be―” “Yes,
it can,” Mart interrupted, his body trembling with fury. “I just spent half
an hour listening to Brenda Singleton accuse Jim of murdering his parents and
his uncle!” Bill
couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever
heard.” “Yeah,
but you know as well as I do how those gossip rags work. It’s like Hitler
said―the bigger the lie, the more people will
believe it. Just wait till Brenda reads this! Talk about adding fuel to the fire! And God
help us if Brenda and Paul join forces! If those two snakes put their heads
together, they could make up the biggest lie ever told!” “Mart,
I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but don’t you think you’re
overreacting?” “No,
but I think you’re a tool. While your sister is knifing you in the back, I’m
going to cross Hell and high water to protect mine.” With that, Mart snatched
the newspaper from the table and hopped to his feet. “Hey,
what’re you doing?” Bill demanded. “You can’t keep that!” “Just
try and stop me,” Mart threatened through gritted teeth. Bill
reached for the paper. “I’m serious, Mart. Give it back.” Mart’s
hand trembled as he held it up in a cautionary gesture. “I’m warning you,
Bill. I’ve had to deal with a whole lot of crap today. I’m at the end of my
rope, and at this point, I don’t think it’d be half bad to just let go. All I
want to do now is beat you to a pulp. So if you know what’s good for you,
you’ll sit back down and shut your yap before I shut it for you.” “What
are you gonna do, Mart? Even if you keep that copy,
thousands of them will hit the newsstands tomorrow morning.” “You’re
right. I can’t keep these off the presses, but I can warn Trixie in advance. You’d be wise to stay out of my way,
Bill. Like you said earlier, you owe me.” “Don’t you realize how much trouble
I could get into?” Bill whined. “Yeah, I do, but I really don’t care.” “I stuck my
neck out for you, and this is how you repay me?” Unable to control himself any longer, Mart
balled-up his fist, drew it back, and slammed it against Bill’s nose with as
much force as he could muster. “No, that’s
how I repay you,” he growled. “You…you…you
broke my nose!” Bill sputtered, blood covering his lips. “And
I’ll do worse than that if you ever mess with Trixie again.” Ignoring the
curious stares from his fellow patrons, Mart stormed out of Wimpy’s. Once he was outside, he took his cell phone from
off his belt clip and dialed the number for Trixie’s cell. “Trixie?
Where are you? I need to talk to you ASAP… Yeah, I know you’re busy right
now. I’m busy, too, but something’s up…Of course it’s
important! I wouldn’t bug you otherwise…I really can’t say over the phone. I
need to talk to you in person…Yes, it is bad…How bad is it? Let’s not worry
about that now. We can talk about it when I get there…Trixie… Trixie, I can’t
understand you… Don’t cry, Trix. I know you can’t
take much more…I know, sweetheart. Is anyone there with you?...
Honey and Dan? Good. Stay with them till I get there…Just remember, it’s
always darkest before the dawn…Yes, for your information, Miss Smarty Pants,
I did get that out of a fortune
cookie, but it’s still true… Keep your chin up, sis. I’ll see you in a
minute.” After
disconnecting, Mart’s shoulders slumped. The hand he’d used to punch Bill was
throbbing. He’d likely broken it. However, the pain shooting up from his
fingers into his arm couldn’t compare to the pain he felt for his
almost-twin. He’d never
heard Trixie sound so discouraged. He’d expected fire, not tears. His bubbly,
feisty, optimistic baby sister had hit rock bottom, and there was nothing he
could do about it. If anything, once he shared his news, he’d make things
worse, not better. Like Trixie,
Mart had trouble sitting on the sidelines. He preferred action over
observation. With the exception of relaying the information he had gleaned
from Brenda and Bill, there was absolutely nothing he could do besides wring
his hands and watch as his sister walked barefoot through Hell. A shudder
escaped Mart’s lips as he trudged towards the police station. As badly as
Trixie would react to Brenda’s insinuations, he knew it wouldn’t compare to
the bombshell hitting the newsstands tomorrow morning. Trixie was
smart; she would realize the implications. Not only would she find herself in
the center of a scandal, that photo would place even more scrutiny on Jim.
Mart didn’t doubt the authorities were already eyeing Jim as a suspect, but
the article in the Post would
surely increase the heat. And if the authorities got wind of Brenda’s crazy
speculations… Like Moms always says, no need to borrow trouble because we
already have enough of it as it is, Mart told
himself as he opened the door to the station. Battening down his mental
hatches, he braced himself for impact. Little did
Mart know that Trixie wouldn’t be the only furious female once that article
was published. Jim’s stalker would be downright
murderous when she discovered she had killed the wrong woman.
This story was posted in
honor of my NINTH Jixaversary! Whoo-hoo!!! I
can’t believe it’s been that long. Time really does fly when you’re having
fun. J A huge thank you to my
faithful friend, Kaye, who graciously volunteered to edit this in the eleventh
hour. As always, you rock, my dear! Hugs!!! Part of the fun of being a
writer is exacting revenge on those who have wronged you by giving them a
cameo in your stories. The character of Brenda Singleton is an example of
this. When writing this story, I needed to cast a nosy, gossiping reporter. I
immediately thought of a heifer, er, lady named
Brenda that started a malicious (and completely fabricated!) rumor about me
for the sheer joy of spreading gossip. It hurt me badly during a vulnerable
time in my life. Recently, another heifer, er, lady
spread a rumor (once again, completely untrue!) about Rachel that has caused
her a great deal of pain. Ms. Singleton spread a rumor (yes, this was also
untrue!) about a dear friend of mine. This nasty, trouble-making,
mean-spirited, lying, gossiping character of Brenda Singleton was named in
their honor. If you dislike her, chances are good you would dislike the women
for whom she is named. I included actual phrases and techniques frequently
used by the real Brenda. If you are prone to gossip, I’d like to take a
moment to remind you how your words can hurt others. As the Bible says in
Proverbs 18:8, “The words of a talebearer are as wounds, and they go down
into the innermost parts of the belly.” If you’re having trouble
recalling the New Year’s Eve party mentioned in this story, it’s featured in “Let’s Start the New Year Right.” Nancy Grace is a legal
commentator and former prosecutor that has her own
crime show on HLN. Please don’t sue me for
using your name without permission in my story. Think of it as free
publicity! As I wrote this
chapter, I actually felt sympathy for Bill. It sucks having a ne’er-do-well
sibling. I had no sympathy for Jane, however. And it goes without saying that
Paul Trent is a real tool. The quote
“The bigger lie, the more people will believe it” has been attributed to
Hitler. I despise him, and most certainly don’t make a habit of quoting him,
but I reluctantly agree with that particular statement. Through the years
I’ve also learned that people are eager to believe the worst, so the uglier
the lie, the quicker people will believe it. Since I am more of a Pollyanna
type, I don’t understand this, as I’d rather see the best in folks. I hope
you do, too! J
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