[stylist] the writer/reader relationship
Bridgit Pollpeter
bpollpeter at hotmail.com
Sat Oct 9 18:56:12 UTC 2010
Brad,
You're right about that. Readers are the ones who determine the success of any story. I wonder how others feel about this.
As writers, what is our responsibility to giving the public what it wants? Whether it is fiction, poetry or non-fiction, readers may have a differing opinion, interpretation or level of interest in a piece no matter the writers intent.
At what point do you decide to chuck it? Or when do you give into public opinion, or when do you say screw it and write what you want? It is a precarious relationship that needs to be dealt with care and caution.
As writers, we can't be so caught up in our own material, ideas and egos to ignore the response of readers. If I write something and nine times out of ten I get similar feedback, I need to consider this and perhaps revise my work. Everything is clear to us as the writer, the creator of our material, but it is not always clear to readers. If something isn't working, it isn't working. We always have to be mindful and ask ourselves, "Why will others care about this?"
Especially in non-fiction, I think. In memoir, personal essay, autobiography and biography, it is our life or the life of some one we care about or ideals and opinions we hold too, but what makes others care? Why do others want to learn about some one or something other than themselves? As the writer, it is our responsibility to take this into consideration when writing. How do we do this?
These are some of my ideas:
First, despite popular belief (and popular consumption) sensationalism does not always make for a great story. Shock value is what it is. A shocking or scandelous story does not always offer anymore value than what is at the surface.
Second, find a universal; how can others relate or identify? Find a common truth, and work towards creating a rich story. A story, whether it is fiction or non-fiction, has depth and is working to accomplish more than one thing.
Don't be overly emotional, but simply tell a story. Use language, form, style, voice to express emotions and ideas. Unless you're Russian, heavy, emotive writing does not always work to our advantage *smile*
Playing with form and structure can really help a story find its audience. Try differing POV's and tenses and attempt a non-linear plot. Sometimes these aspects can make or break a piece.
So why do you care? What are others thoughts and opinions on the topic?
Bridgit
> From: stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> Subject: stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 8
> To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> Date: Sat, 9 Oct 2010 05:49:25 -0500
>
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> Today's Topics:
>
> 1. Re: sense of murder (BDM)
>
>
> ----------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> Message: 1
> Date: Sat, 09 Oct 2010 05:48:26 -0500
> From: BDM <lists at braddunsemusic.com>
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Subject: Re: [stylist] sense of murder
> Message-ID: <6.2.3.4.2.20101009054622.02b3f008 at www.braddunsemusic.com>
> Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"; format=flowed
>
> That is what I've found from my own and other's
> countless evaluations, the reader, or listener in
> case of songs, get what they get no matter what we think they'll get.
>
> Brad
>
>
> At 11:46 PM 10/8/2010, you wrote:
>
> >Brad,
> >
> >It is always good to hear from people when it
> >comes to writing. If readers don't like
> >something, it doesn't really matter what the
> >writer thinks. I'm not a detective fiction
> >writer, nor do I wish to be! *smile* I
> >appreciate your interpretation. The nice thing
> >about this forum is that us writers have a
> >chance to defend and clarify our intentions, but
> >at the end of the day, it is what the public wants! *smile*
> >
> >Bridgit
> >
> > > From: stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> > > Subject: stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 6
> > > To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 19:41:28 -0500
> > >
> > > Send stylist mailing list submissions to
> > > stylist at nfbnet.org
> > >
> > > To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit
> > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
> > > stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> > >
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> > >
> > > When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific
> > > than "Re: Contents of stylist digest..."
> > >
> > >
> > > Today's Topics:
> > >
> > > 1. Re: no more mystery (Pat Harmon)
> > > 2. Sense of murder (Bridgit Pollpeter)
> > > 3. Re: Sense of murder (BDM)
> > >
> > >
> > > ----------------------------------------------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 1
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 15:11:28 -0400
> > > From: "Pat Harmon" <pharmon222 at comcast.net>
> > > To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] no more mystery
> > > Message-ID: <000901cb671c$9c696850$bab15144 at default3gx6vng>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset="iso-8859-1";
> > > reply-type=original
> > >
> > > The mystery concerns the mistake! You have
> > received an email meant only for
> > > my daughter. Oh, I am sorry!
> > > ----- Original Message -----
> > > From: "Pat Harmon" <pharmon222 at comcast.net>
> > > To: "Jennifer Harmon" <jennifer.harmon at SourceMedia.com>
> > > Cc: "NFBnet Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Sent: Friday, October 08, 2010 12:19 PM
> > > Subject: [stylist] no more mystery
> > >
> > >
> > > >I went to bed with the "pewter" on my mind,
> > although it did not cost me any
> > > >sleep. Foolish not to look below. There is was, the little figures I
> > > >love. Memories are endless.
> > > >
> > > > Perhaps the housecleaners moved them. I don't know. They are best on
> > > > display. I thought maybe they were in your apartment, but I had no
> > > > recollection of that. My mind creates tales.
> > > >
> > > > Now, I am searching for breadcrumbs. Eleanor gave me a recipe for
> > > > cauliflower. It was out on the counter, and it is the biggest I've ever
> > > > bought.
> > > >
> > > > I am hoping to hear from the newest Grandma I know! I might have a ride
> > > > to Mahwah occasionally. A fellow Lion has a daughter there. Maybe that
> > > > could work out.
> > > >
> > > > Ah, luck shall be with me for new flooring tomorrow. Then, I must walk
> > > > gingerly across it
> > > >
> > > > Did I pay for your latest hairdo? There was a bill and the name had
> > > > something to do with coiffures. It was two hundred or so.
> > > >
> > > > How Do you spell pewter anyway? I'm feeling spelling impaired!
> > > >
> > > > Smile, Hobo! It is Fabulous Frrivolous fantastic fine foolish fortunate
> > > > Friday!!
> > > > _______________________________________________
> > > > Writers Division web site:
> > > > http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > >
> > > > stylist mailing list
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> >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 2
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 16:01:35 -0500
> > > From: Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
> > > To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: [stylist] Sense of murder
> > > Message-ID: <BLU0-SMTP14770D8490E77334B390489C4500 at phx.gbl>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
> > >
> > > Brad,
> > >
> > > To address some of your points:
> > >
> > > Ayden is a recluse in that he does not develop intimate relationships
> > > with people until meeting Salma. He goes through the motions, but
> > > never emotionally or mentally connects with anyone. Salma provides a
> > > deeper friendship than he has cultivated so far.
> > >
> > > Ayden begins by tapping along the brick building which sounds
> > > differently from tapping against the glass door. This is a description
> > > of how we use a cane. No one sighted who has read this was confused by
> > > it. If writing for a blind audience only, it would not make sense, to
> > > me, to include these descriptions at all since we know how we do
> > > things. On the other hand, having an audience who may not have
> > > exposure to blind people and/or their skills, they would wonder how a
> > > blind character does certain things. We all know how people have simple
> > > questions for us so it seems like these descriptions would be more
> > > appreciated by those who do not know how a blind person acts or thinks.
> > > Plus, making Ayden blind (which he was not originally) readers will need
> > > to know certain things. Like I can't just sit my blind character at a
> > > computer and expect some people to understand this.
> > >
> > > Ayden leaned across the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch. You know, a lawyer
> > > from a wealthy family."
> > > "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > Eache of these is its own para. When action is included with dialogue
> > > in a para, it is attached to the speaker. Since the first para begins
> > > with Ayden, the following dialogue is attached to Ayden.
> > >
> > > Again, so far sighted readers have appreciated the descriptions dealing
> > > with things specific to blind people. Most people have no idea what a
> > > slate and stylus is even when looking at one. It makes sense, to me,
> > > to give a brief description of visually what it looks like while at the
> > > same time explaining how one uses it.
> > >
> > > Salma's comment about figuring out the case without technology is
> > > clearly sarcasm. During this whole portion of dialogue, Salma is
> > > reaching impatience with Ayden for not picking things up quick enough.
> > > She shows her playful side so this comment does not seem to fit into the
> > > serious considering her attitude with everything else. Also, it is
> > > common knowledge that people use to conduct life without all the
> > > technology we have now, so I assumed readers would get it. And the
> > > following "Ayden smirked at her," kind of gives one a clue that they are
> > > joking with one another. Accessible is in italics which means Ayden is
> > > stressing the word playing along with Salma's sarcasm.
> > >
> > > Ayden and Salma are not from this small town. There are numerous places
> > > throughout where they talk about being from a city and Ayden mentions
> > > not having visited here often. Regardless, people in a town of 10,000
> > > still use phone books and the like to look up contact info.
> > >
> > > Alice was in love with Henry and he died before they could resolve their
> > > relationship. When she sees Ayden, who looks just like Henry, she is
> > > presumably thrown off guard and utters this before she knows what she
> > > is doing.
> > > It does not seem that unnusual for a person to remark on the uncanny
> > > resemblence a person might bear to some one else they knew. People
> > > constantly come up to my sister to tell her that her daughter is the
> > > spitting image of her.
> > >
> > > I established early on that Salm and Ayden live across the hall from one
> > > another. I did not clarify the point that they were or were not living
> > > together, but I do make it clear that they are dating.
> > > So far, a lot of people have enjoyed this aspect of the story since
> > > Henry was a bit of a cad. Sort of a redemptive quality in a sense.
> > > I wanted their relationship to happen quickly. They are in this
> > > situation together and subconscience feelings begin to rise to the
> > > surface. Most mysteries include a love element anyway.
> > > FYI, my husband and mine's relationship happened quickly like this.
> > > *smile*
> > >
> > > First, no this is not a conclusion, but I purposefully meant to place
> > > suspicion on Alice, Henry's lover, Sheriff Jenkins and Nick, Ayden's
> > > father. It is clear in the end that Ayden is not done looking into
> > > Henry's death, but it takes a reprieve. Plus, Ayden is not a detective
> > > so he may not have the same obsession to finish a case especially if he
> > > felt he knew some of the answers.
> > >
> > > I probably won't continue this story since I merely wrote it for a
> > > class, but Ayden is a character I have been working on for a couple of
> > > years. I may deal with him again, but not in the context of a mystery.
> > > I'm too focused on non-fiction right now to develop a fiction
> > > unfortunately.
> > >
> > > Bridgit
> > >
> > > -----Original Message-----
> > > From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
> > > Behalf Of stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> > > Sent: Friday, October 08, 2010 12:00 PM
> > > To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > Subject: stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 5
> > >
> > >
> > > Send stylist mailing list submissions to
> > > stylist at nfbnet.org
> > >
> > > To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit
> > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
> > > stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> > >
> > > You can reach the person managing the list at
> > > stylist-owner at nfbnet.org
> > >
> > > When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific than
> > > "Re: Contents of stylist digest..."
> > >
> > >
> > > Today's Topics:
> > >
> > > 1. detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > alludes to sexual content (Bridgit Pollpeter)
> > > 2. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > alludes to sexual content (Priscilla McKinley)
> > > 3. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language,
> > > alludes to sexual content (Joe Orozco)
> > > 4. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language,
> > > alludes to sexual content (Robert Leslie Newman)
> > > 5. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > alludes to sexual content (BDM)
> > > 6. no more mystery (Pat Harmon)
> > >
> > >
> > > ----------------------------------------------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 1
> > > Date: Thu, 7 Oct 2010 21:05:39 -0500
> > > From: Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
> > > To: writers division <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > Message-ID: <SNT136-w5394EB83769ED4F1912F90C4500 at phx.gbl>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="Windows-1252"
> > >
> > >
> > > Hey guys,
> > >
> > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote
> > > it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > >
> > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > >
> > > Bridgit P
> > >
> > > Sense of Murder
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in his father?s leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed by
> > > his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had been
> > > murdered. Ayden?s father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > incident after reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > about Henry?s death either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to
> > > search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure what happened.
> > > Lucy, Ayden?s grandmother, had been present too when Henry?s body was
> > > found. The police recorded the death as an accidental fall. Many
> > > silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy had grown distraught
> > > during the past few months before Henry?s death. Friends and family
> > > reported that she had been distracted often or in an irritated mood.
> > > This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother Ayden had grown up with.
> > > When Nick found his father?s body, Lucy had gone wild, screaming, unable
> > > to leave Henry?s lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a care
> > > home. Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too had
> > > passed. Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy,
> > > they said. She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > what a small town needed. The police never looked into the possibility,
> > > but Lucy died with a scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could
> > > never believe that Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden,
> > > guiding him, encouraging him. ?You?re so full of potential, Ayden. I
> > > can see fire in your eyes,? she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his
> > > vision, Lucy had been the one person who supported him, still
> > > encouraging. For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play,
> > > but no one ever spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the
> > > closest anyone came to mentioning ?murder.? Ayden, though, had never
> > > played by the rules. His mother referred to him as the ?black sheep of
> > > the family? whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he
> > > fit in his family?s world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country
> > > clubs and preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He
> > > had already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident
> > > left him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father had
> > > been clear when saying, ?This condition of yours is not suitable for the
> > > courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for research,
> > > perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable.? Ayden was not
> > > able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After completing his
> > > bachelor?s in literature, Ayden took up a career writing for any
> > > newspapers or journals that accepted his entries. Writing for a small
> > > literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had turned
> > > into a fictionalized account of his grandfather?s death. Asking his
> > > father for any information about his grandfather?s life, was the reason
> > > Ayden now sat in his father?s study. He found more, he thought, than
> > > his father knew about though. ?So what?s next?? Salma asked. Salma
> > > lived across the hall from Ayden in his building. They had become
> > > friends, and Salma now was helping him research his grandfather?s life.
> > > Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden said, ?I?m not sure. This letter
> > > says a lot.? Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > evidence, even if circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it,
> > > she could have killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled
> > > before Salma spoke. ?It?s pretty clear from this letter that your
> > > grandfather was having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these
> > > initials, A. W.? Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone
> > > he had ever met with A. W. for initials. ?I don?t know,? he sighed. As
> > > Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found an old
> > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > the third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping
> > > the gift, then exclaimed, ?Oh,? before looking up with tears in her
> > > eyes. Wuthering Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had
> > > been the one person to encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up
> > > writing instead of joining the family law firm. ?You?re meant to follow
> > > your own path,? Lucy had told Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and
> > > Salma found a letter enclosed in the pages of the book. Ayden touched
> > > the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to Salma to inspect.
> > > She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as the book. A few
> > > of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The letter was
> > > simple as she read:
> > > Henry, my love,
> > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming down
> > > the road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer
> > > must we wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too
> > > late.
> > > Love, A. W.
> > > ?What now? Where do we go next?? Salma asked.
> > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. ?We visit the old
> > > Templeton mansion.? The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry
> > > and Lucy had lived in for years. The family still owned it, but it had
> > > sat empty for years. Ayden thought that maybe more secrets were hidden
> > > within the walls of the Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden?s fingers
> > > slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden
> > > really didn?t know much about his family?s past. Lucy and Henry had
> > > moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but Ayden
> > > had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable to cope
> > > with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the City, and
> > > Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now for ten
> > > years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. ?Are we there??
> > > ?Yes. What?s our first stop?? ?I?m figuring this out as we go along.
> > > I guess the police station.? Salma was silent before saying, ?You okay?
> > > I know your dad wasn?t happy.? Ayden had questioned his father about the
> > > letter, but Nick had gone quiet and cold before telling Ayden, ?Leave it
> > > alone. We don?t dig up family history.? Ayden tried to coax Nick to say
> > > more, but the subject was closed. ?Yeah. I wish he would have told us
> > > more. Explained something,? Ayden said. ?Maybe he just wants to keep
> > > your family secrets, well, secret. Some people don?t like giving out
> > > info about anything.? ?I just feel like he knows more than he?s letting
> > > on. Mom just played dumb too.? ?We?ll find something. Don?t worry.?
> > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > life. The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day,
> > > knocking on his door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some
> > > home made enchiladas. That had been the beginning of their friendship.
> > > They had spent many nights talking until three in the morning and
> > > hanging out on weekends. Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the
> > > outside world. Once moving away from his family, he had become a
> > > recluse of sorts. He showed up to the office for work, attended
> > > cocktail parties required for work and even dated a couple of girls, but
> > > Salma was the one person he truly felt comfortable with. Her infectious
> > > way of always looking at things positively seemed like a novelty to
> > > Ayden. She could always make him smile. When he began writing the book
> > > about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could. ?I?m
> > > really glad you?re here,? Ayden said.
> > >
> > > ?Yeah, yeah. I?m waiting for my pay check.? Salma giggled as she
> > > pulled into a parking stall. ?I think we?re here.? While Salma dropped
> > > coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the brick
> > > walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his cane
> > > tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. ?No Braille, is this it?? he
> > > shouted back to Salma. ?I believe so,? she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the police
> > > station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one pressed
> > > keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > thought, must be a reception desk. Stepping up to a smooth feeling
> > > counter, Ayden said, ?Excuse me.? ?Can I help you?? a woman?s bored
> > > voice said. ?We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked
> > > the Henry Templeton case,? Ayden said. The woman stopped typing and a
> > > long silence followed. ?Who?s asking?? ?I?m Ayden Templeton, Henry?s
> > > grandson.? ?One minute.? A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > clacked as she walked away. Salma touched Ayden?s arm. ?She had a weird
> > > look when you mentioned your grandpa?s name.? Ayden said nothing, not
> > > sure what he was doing there in the first place. The woman?s shoes
> > > clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep joined hers, but
> > > this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled towards Salma,
> > > saying, ?Hello. I?m Sheriff Jenkins. How can I help you?? Ayden
> > > stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > ?I?m Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions
> > > about my grandfather?s death.? There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins
> > > shook Ayden?s hand. ?Step into my office please.? Ayden followed the
> > > sheriff into a room off the main section of the department. His cane
> > > swep the inside of the door frame, indicating the width so Ayden avoided
> > > bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked where a chair was and
> > > turned in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated. Once again, his cane
> > > found the chair and sliding the cane across the seat, Ayden determined
> > > where the front of the chair was. Salma?s arm brushed his as she sat
> > > next to him. ?Can I get you anything?? Sheriff Jenkins asked. ?No, but
> > > thank you. Salma?? ?I?m good,? Salma replied. Ayden felt a tension fill
> > > the room as the three sat there, not speaking. Sheriff Jenkins began
> > > tapping the edge of the metal table in the interrogation room. Ayden
> > > twisted his cane between his fingers. Salma bobbed her foot which was
> > > lightly kicking Ayden?s shin. ?We?re hoping to learn as much as we can
> > > about Henry Templeton?s death. I?m researching the story for a novel
> > > I?m working on,? Ayden started. ?I worked the case. There?s not much to
> > > tell,? Sheriff Jenkins said. ?I know you eventually reported it as an
> > > accidental death, but was there ever any evidence suggesting otherwise??
> > > Ayden asked. ?No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > reason to believe Henry Templeton was murdered,? Sheriff Jenkins said
> > > sharply. Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, ?I know
> > > there was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it.? ?Lucy
> > > Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she married
> > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted.? Ayden leaned against the
> > > table looking straight in the direction where Sheriff Jenkins sat. ?I
> > > thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer from a wealthy family.?
> > > ?He was a playboy. Always was, never changed.? ?Who did you question
> > > about his death?? Salma broke in. The sheriff?s chair creaked as he
> > > leaned back. ?Well, of course Lucy and her boy Nick. They were there.
> > > Found his body and all.? Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance.
> > > He was talking like he had forgot who Ayden was. ?Then there was Zelda,
> > > the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came around about once a week to
> > > help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden. Her roses won prizes
> > > around here,? Sheriff Jenkins continued. ?Anyone else?? Ayden asked.
> > > ?Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn?t see much
> > > of him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > years. She still did stuff part-time for Henry.? Ayden had pulled out a
> > > three-by-five plastic device that had six rows of cells containing three
> > > holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop sound was made as Ayden
> > > poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus through the holes as he
> > > took Braille notes. ?Are any of these people still around?? ?Not
> > > everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton?s to leave town.
> > > Other than Henry?s work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > around here. At least the one?s who are still alive.? ?Is there
> > > anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange you noticed?
> > > Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental tumble down
> > > the stairs?? The sheriff laughed. ?I know you city folk like to dream
> > > up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton?s death was
> > > nothing more than an accident. Nothing dark about it.? ?Thank you for
> > > your time,? Ayden said extending his hand again to shake Sheriff
> > > Jenkins?s. Sheriff Jenkins sighed. ?Look, don?t go digging anything up.
> > > Just let the dead rest.? Salma?s bracelet tinkled as they stood. ?We
> > > understand. I?m just trying to find things out about my grandfather for
> > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered,? Ayden said. ?Are you two
> > > married?? Sheriff Jenkins asked. Ayden, confused by the switch, replied,
> > > ?No.? The sheriff chuckled. ?Like your grandpa, I see.? Ayden blushed,
> > > but Salma said, ?Ayden is nothing but a gentleman. Clearly something he
> > > did not pick up in this town.? ?I know the kind of men the Templeton?s
> > > are,? the sheriff said. Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. ?At
> > > least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > this whole time,? Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > rush of breeze as she left the room.
> > >
> > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > ?I?m sorry. I didn?t know what to say.?
> > > ?It?s okay. He was a pig.?
> > > ?I didn?t realize-?
> > > ?I know, its okay. Where to next??
> > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. ?The house, I
> > > guess.? As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > > he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > > Salma.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > > always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a
> > > large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > majestically towards the sky.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > > the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > porch, he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of
> > > falling through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly
> > > drove down the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It
> > > was as though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the distant
> > > sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma
> > > stood next to him. ?How does it look?? Ayden asked ignoring the scent.
> > > Salma took a deep breath. ?It?s run down, that?s for sure. I can?t
> > > believe no one has lived here for years.? ?My family still owns it, but
> > > after my grandfather?s death, no one wanted to do anything about it.?
> > > Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated Victorian
> > > house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his
> > > father?s office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet
> > > click was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in
> > > Salma?s direction before stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house
> > > engulfed all sound like a tomb. ?Creepy,? Salma said as she shivered.
> > > Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to
> > > not run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he
> > > inhaled. ?This has been sitting for years,? Ayden rasped. ?What?s it
> > > look like?? Salma looked around. ?It?s really dark, but it?s almost
> > > completely empty. What do you think you?ll find?? ?I?m not sure.
> > > Sheriff Jenkins wasn?t much help. I just thought, maybe something??
> > > Salma?s sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open
> > > it. ?Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air.? Ayden
> > > felt a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered up. The sound of
> > > kids jumping rope ruined the house?s stolid silence. Life entered the
> > > house again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma
> > > clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling walls and
> > > any remaining furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He rifled
> > > through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust and
> > > cobwebs. ?Ayden, Ayden!? Salma shouted a couple of hours later. Ayden
> > > hurried towards the staircase. ?Salma! Are you okay?? ?Get up here! I
> > > found something!? Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the
> > > top, he shouted, ?What room?? ?Um, it?s a bedroom.? Hearing her voice
> > > off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At the end, he found a
> > > door open. ?Salma?? Salma?s clapping sandals moved towards Ayden. ?Look
> > > at this,? she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper crackled
> > > as she shoved something in Ayden?s hand. Ayden grinned. ?Um?? He
> > > handed the paper back to Salma. ?Oh-sorry. I just-you won?t believe
> > > this.? It was another letter; a love letter to Henry. Henry, My love, I
> > > miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > with you, really be with you. Let?s stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > Don?t be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop
> > > hiding. There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > don?t take long. Love,
> > > A. W.
> > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > quite sure what her excitement was for. ?We already know Henry was
> > > having an affair of sorts,? he said. Salma sighed impatiently. ?Ayden,
> > > think about it. Don?t you see?? ?Not really,? he said slowly. She
> > > grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a strength
> > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > Ayden took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > with it. Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing
> > > him back to attention. ?Ayden, A. W. Don?t you see it yet?? ?A. W.??
> > > ?The initials,? she said exasperated, ?A. W. Alice Whitley.? ?Who?s
> > > Alice Whitley?? Salma smacked her forehead. ?Ay-where are your notes
> > > from today?? Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back
> > > pocket. ?Now read through it,? Salma said as though talking to a small
> > > child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up
> > > at Salma. ?See?? Salma asked. ?I can?t believe we didn?t realize it
> > > then. His secretary. And Sheriff Jenkins said she?s still living in
> > > town.? ?Think we can find her?? ?Give me a minute,? Ayden said reaching
> > > for his mobile phone tucked away in his pocket. An electronic hum came
> > > from his phone as he maneuvered through the menus on his phone. A
> > > screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped Ayden utilize
> > > the functions on his phone. ?Got it. There?s only one Alice Whitley
> > > that shows up in town.? ?Thank God for technology,? Salma said. ?No
> > > wonder no one could ever solve this case.? Ayden smirked at her. ?Thank
> > > God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn?t live far from here
> > > and it?s not too late.?
> > >
> > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman?s voice
> > > gasped, ?Oh.? ?Miss Whitley? I?m Ayden-? ?Templeton,? she said. ?You
> > > look like Henry.? Smiling, Ayden said, ?Miss Whitley, this is my friend
> > > Salma. We?re working on a book about my grandfather, and we would like
> > > to ask you some questions.? ?Oh, of course. Come in, come in.? As the
> > > door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent that he
> > > couldn?t place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > into a sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the
> > > soft couch while Alice sat across from them. ?Can I offer you anything?
> > > I just made lemonade.? ?That would be wonderful,? Salma said. As Alice
> > > left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. ?I?m sorry, I didn?t even
> > > think to ask if you were hungry.? ?Hon, it?s okay. I didn?t think about
> > > it myself until now.? ?We?ll have dinner after this; I promise.?
> > > ?Promise?? Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > glass in Ayden?s hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp.
> > > The cold liquid felt good down his throat after the dust of his family?s
> > > house. He could only imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt
> > > the mingled grime of sweat and dirt on his body. Why had it not
> > > occurred to them to stop somewhere first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > ?So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss him.
> > > You must call me Alice.? ?Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in
> > > his death,? Ayden said. Alice choked on her lemonade. ?Why would you be
> > > interested in that?? ?I believe that maybe his death wasn?t accidental.?
> > > ?Oh dear, don?t buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at.? ?And yet
> > > the rumors persist,? Ayden said. ?Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > there minds.? ?You know Sheriff Jenkins?? Ayden asked. ?Darling, it?s a
> > > town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody.? Ayden sipped on his
> > > lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the side of her glass. ?We
> > > have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,? Ayden said.
> > > He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like
> > > this hundreds of times. Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass.
> > > Her voice had lost some of its cheeriness when she responded by asking,
> > > ?What makes you say that?? Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He
> > > removed the Braille label, setting the letter on the coffee table
> > > dividing Ayden and Salma from Alice. The room grew still. The letter
> > > rustled as Alice picked it up. When she spoke, she sounded choked as
> > > though she were holding back tears. ?Where did you find this?? ?It was
> > > in some old boxes in the Templeton home,? Salma said. A long silence
> > > followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling. ?I suppose the truth
> > > has to come out sooner or later,? Alice said quietly. ?We don?t
> > > need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think Henry was
> > > killed?? Ayden soothed. ?Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,?
> > > Alice began, ignoring Ayden. ?I instantly fell in love with him, but he
> > > was that type. Dashingly handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few
> > > years older than me, but I knew how all the girls waited for their
> > > chance to rope Henry into marriage. I felt so lucky to see him
> > > everyday. I started out as a simple receptionist, but eventually he
> > > promoted me to his personal secretary.? ?Did you move with my
> > > grandparents then, when they moved?? Ayden asked. Alice sighed. ?Yes,
> > > but after-things happened-I moved back. I remained in his employ,
> > > working from the office here in town. Before your father took charge,
> > > Henry?s headquarters had always been based from here.? Ayden nodded his
> > > head. ?I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us
> > > both, Lucy and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > up with that smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I
> > > should?ve known better, but I was in love.? Alice continued to spill her
> > > story, hoping for redemption perhaps. ?The final straw came right before
> > > his death. We had carried on for almost forty-years and I knew it had
> > > to stop. We fought. I threatened to tell Lucy and that was that. He
> > > left me promising to choose. I waited for an answer, but a week later,
> > > Henry was found dead.? ?Did you ever tell anyone?? Ayden asked. ?No.?
> > >
> > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice?s house. A breeze
> > > tousled Ayden?s hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > dark tresses. ?Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible,? she
> > > said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He
> > > slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. ?You promised me dinner,?
> > > Salma whined playfully.
> > >
> > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma found
> > > themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up with
> > > Ayden?s stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. ?Sometimes I
> > > think it would be nice to live in a small town,? Salma mused. ?Really,
> > > you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day,? Ayden joked. ?I could
> > > drive to the city. I don?t know. It seems like a nice place to raise a
> > > family.? Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > learn about Salma. ?Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow
> > > up to cheat, lie and murder,? Ayden scoffed. ?We, huh?? Ayden blushed,
> > > feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He hadn?t caught his
> > > blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of his words,
> > > Salma grabbed his hand. ?Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,?
> > > she said. They walked silently back to the car. ?It?s pretty late, what
> > > should we do?? Salma asked. Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch
> > > up. Feeling the raised dots and arrows with his pointer finger on his
> > > Braille watch, he said, ?It?s a quarter to eleven. I?m beat.? ?Me too.
> > > I don?t really feel like driving back tonight though.? Ayden scratched
> > > his head. ?I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton.? ?Okay, but no
> > > funny business,? Salma joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, ?By the
> > > way, unlike some men in my family, I?m more of a one-woman type.?
> > >
> > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > ?Sure you don?t want to sleep in another room?? Ayden asked. ?Hell no!
> > > This house is creepy.? ?I thought you wanted to raise children here??
> > > ?Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?? The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > down on it. ?A bit musty.? They had found spare bed linens in a box and
> > > had attempted to shake them out as best they could. Ayden had noticed a
> > > lingering wispy scent of flowers that he could not place. It may have
> > > been the remnants of something used to launder the linens years ago, he
> > > had thought. Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > Salma. ?Here. You can wrap your pillow in it.? ?Thanks,? Salma said
> > > drawing the word out. Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for
> > > the millionth time that day. Not able to turn back what he had done,
> > > Ayden lay slowly down, sticking close to the edge. ?Keep your hands
> > > above the blankets,? Salma yawned.
> > >
> > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as he
> > > felt Salma?s small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and
> > > Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself gently
> > > from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the bathroom,
> > > but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working order. It
> > > was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he found his way
> > > downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no neighbors were awake
> > > to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep still, his eyes snapped
> > > open as a slight shuffle came from behind him. Finished with his
> > > midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound came again. He
> > > turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. ?Hello,? he said. No
> > > response came. He turned back towards the house and as he walked, Ayden
> > > felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult now, he
> > > chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house, he
> > > reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > doorway again. The noise instantly stopped. Slamming the door and
> > > locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking three steps at a time.
> > > Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden felt a cool breeze cut
> > > through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he swore to himself.
> > > They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air out their
> > > lodgings for the night. Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
> > > He sat on the bed resting his head on the large carved headboard,
> > > listening. Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > trees from time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed
> > > around the house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a
> > > step on the stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > of vigilante guarding. Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his
> > > head, he smiled when Salma threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only
> > > of Salma by now, Ayden drifted back off to sleep.
> > >
> > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > > odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. ?Salma!
> > > There?s a fire!? He shook her until she woke up. ?We need to get out of
> > > here,? Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state. Ayden
> > > flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made his eyes water.
> > > ?Salma, I can?t tell if we can make it down the stairs.? Standing next
> > > to him, she said, ?All I can see is smoke. Can we jump out the window??
> > > ?We?re on the second floor. It?s pretty high up.? Now across the room,
> > > Ayden heard Salma cry, ?Oh-my-god! Ayden!? ?What?? ?I can see flames
> > > around the base of the house.? ?Shit.? Trying to think, Ayden gathered
> > > up the sheet from the bed. Dousing it with water from the couple
> > > bottles purchased last night, he threw the sheet at Salma. ?Wrap
> > > yourself in this.? ?Why?? ?Just do it.? Making sure her long hair was
> > > covered, Ayden threw Salma over his shoulder. Grabbing his cane by the
> > > door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the shirt tied around his face
> > > would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the stairs. Despite the
> > > situation, Ayden could not help notice the harlequin-romance-like
> > > predicament. He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and
> > > he could not understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > groped the banister which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the
> > > bottom, he found his way to the front door and opened it. A rush of
> > > fresh air greeted him. Feeling heat, he hoped he could make it off the
> > > porch. At the top of the stairs, panicked, he placed Salma upright
> > > again. She struggled to loosen the sheet around her. ?Are the flames
> > > here too?? Ayden asked. ?No, but there coming from behind.? At the end
> > > of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors could be heard
> > > coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma asking if
> > > they were okay. Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of
> > > flames. Salma held his hand as they waited in silence for the sound of
> > > sirens.
> > >
> > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins?s police cruiser.
> > > The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket draped
> > > his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could still
> > > smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had extinguished
> > > the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about Ayden?s age, drove
> > > Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a report before Nick
> > > was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her head against his
> > > shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden
> > > protectively placed an arm around her. ?Ayden,? Salma said in quiet
> > > surprise, ?Alice Whitley is here.? Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he
> > > waited for Alice to approach. A new scent filled his nostrils. This
> > > too smelled of flowers, but it was not the framiliar jasmine and vanilla
> > > Salma wore. Through the fog of his brain, he tried to place where he
> > > had smelled this scent before. ?I?m glad you two are alright,? Alice
> > > spoke quietly. ?I can?t believe this. Do you need anything?? ?Thank
> > > you, but we?re okay,? Salma said warmly. ?Pete phoned me this morning-?
> > > ?Sheriff Jenkins? Why?? Ayden asked. Alice didn?t respond. Waiting for
> > > an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that had lingered
> > > in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens. ?Alice, did you
> > > visit the house after we left you yesterday?? Alice made a noise as
> > > though she were suppressing it in her throat. She never answered and
> > > before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her muffled footsteps on
> > > the grass as she walked briskly away. ?Ayden?? Salma puzzled. ?Her
> > > perfume, it?s the same smell I noticed in the closet last night.?
> > > ?Ayden, that?s where I found the letter too,? Salma whispered.? Ayden
> > > heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them. It was
> > > Nick. ?Are you crazy?? Nick asked, bewildered. ?I?m fine. Nice to see
> > > you too, Dad.? Nick let out a long breath before saying, ?Your mother
> > > and I went crazy when we heard what happened. We?re glad you?re okay.?
> > > ?Is the house ruined?? Ayden asked. Salma shifted and sat upright next
> > > to Ayden. ?It?s mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > to the house.? Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy?s
> > > favorite place. Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall
> > > bushes as Lucy tended to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his
> > > thoughts, Ayden heard a shuffling footstep approach. Another memory
> > > pushed itself front and center in his mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped
> > > his pace, Ayden gave him a hard look. ?Tom says it will take a few weeks
> > > to get reports back, but there is some structural damage to the house,
> > > Nick,? the sheriff said. ?Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind
> > > lately?? Ayden directed to Sheriff Jenkins. No one spoke. Salma gripped
> > > his hand. ?Any reason why you?d call Alice Whitley early this morning??
> > > Ayden continued. ?Drop it,? Nick hissed at Ayden. Thrown off by Nick?s
> > > tone, Ayden squeezed Salma?s hand, unsure what to do. ?I?m sure we?re
> > > all tired and need to collect our thoughts,? Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > ?Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick.? Ayden heard the
> > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers as
> > > JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > > typed. ?Still working?? Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > > back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. ?That
> > > just turns me on more.? ?I called you a great big moron whose brain is
> > > the size of his-? ?Doesn?t matter. Still sounds sexy.? Salma whipped
> > > another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to
> > > his work, Ayden decided to check his email. As he clicked on the
> > > necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought over the past few
> > > weeks. Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > everything was circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > opened something up. Something that had been meant to remain secret.
> > > Nick refused to open any investigation and he remained tight-lipped
> > > about anything he knew. The fire was officially reported as an unknown
> > > accident since no evidence, either way, had been found determining a
> > > cause. This, at least, was how the police report read. Ayden, though,
> > > had inquired into the fire-chief?s report. It too was inconclusive, but
> > > this report did mention that a match book had been found near the
> > > premises. Salma had advised Ayden to wait before attempting any further
> > > investigation. Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks
> > > slip by without searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > city, Ayden had found the courage to express his budding feelings
> > > towards Salma. They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night
> > > for them, except this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation
> > > between them. Salma had stood to get another beer from the kitchen when
> > > Ayden reached for her wrist. His large palm had felt bigger next to her
> > > slim wrist. Both had stared silently at one another. Ayden, thinking
> > > he would win this game since he couldn?t see, broke first. Grinning
> > > with a smirk, he had pulled Salma to him and kissed her. Three weeks
> > > later, their routine was continued as normal, yet something was
> > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > though it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the
> > > new romance. Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given
> > > for the first email he came across. Opening it up, he read the
> > > following: Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you
> > > stop your investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall
> > > you. Thank your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new
> > > love. There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field,
> > > but the only information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > Ayden?s pulse quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room,
> > > he closed the window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her
> > > just yet. Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > Ayden knew this was just the beginning.
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 2
> > > Date: Thu, 7 Oct 2010 22:58:25 -0500
> > > From: Priscilla McKinley <priscilla.mckinley at gmail.com>
> > > To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > Message-ID:
> > > <AANLkTi=iDNLqd5JgFQGiLT8M3UKuuWAS2HjBP-P0NnBH at mail.gmail.com>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset=windows-1252
> > >
> > > Bridgit,
> > >
> > > I really enjoyed reading your piece. I was very much engaged by the
> > > story. The only part I had issues with was the beginning. It seems as
> > > though too much history is packed into a few paragraphs. Perhaps you
> > > could incorporate some of the details in other parts and introduce the
> > > characters and stories as they come up? Plus, it might be interesting
> > > to let your readers wonder for a while what is going on, leading them in
> > > to discover that they are in the middle of an amateur murder
> > > investigation.
> > >
> > > Nice work!
> > >
> > > Priscilla
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > On 10/7/10, Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com> wrote:
> > > >
> > > > Hey guys,
> > > >
> > > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > > credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > > mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I
> > > > wrote it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator!
> > > > *smile*
> > > >
> > > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > >
> > > > Bridgit P
> > > >
> > > > Sense of Murder
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in his father?s leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > > between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed
> > > > by his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across
> > >
> > > > the rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > > researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > > writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had
> > > > been murdered. Ayden?s father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather,
> > >
> > > > lying at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke
> > > > about the incident after reporting it to the police. He would not
> > > > speak to Ayden about Henry?s death either, but he was allowing Ayden
> > > > and Salma to search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure
> > > > what happened. Lucy, Ayden?s grandmother, had been present too when
> > > > Henry?s body was found. The police recorded the death as an
> > > > accidental fall. Many silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy
> > > > had grown distraught during the past few months before Henry?s death.
> > > > Friends and family reported that she had been distracted often or in
> > > > an irritated mood. This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother
> > > > Ayden had grown up with. When Nick found his father?s body, Lucy had
> > > > gone wild, screaming, unable to leave Henry?s lifeless body.
> > > > Eventually Nick placed her in a care home. Here Lucy had reached an
> > > > almost catatonic state until she too had passed. Gossips spread the
> > > > news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy, they said. She went mad,
> > >
> > > > she killed her husband. It was juicy, just what a small town needed.
> > >
> > > > The police never looked into the possibility, but Lucy died with a
> > > > scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could never believe that
> > >
> > > > Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden, guiding him,
> > > > encouraging him. ?You?re so full of potential, Ayden. I can see fire
> > >
> > > > in your eyes,? she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his vision, Lucy
> > >
> > > > had been the one person who supported him, still encouraging. For
> > > > years, though, there had been whispers of foul play, but no one ever
> > > > spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the closest anyone
> > > > came to mentioning ?murder.? Ayden, though, had never played by the
> > > > rules. His mother referred to him as the ?black sheep of the family?
> > > > whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he fit in
> > > > his family?s world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country clubs and
> > >
> > > > preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He had
> > > > already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident left
> > >
> > > > him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > > blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father
> > > > had been clear when saying, ?This condition of yours is not suitable
> > > > for the courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for
> > > > research, perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable.?
> > > > Ayden was not able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After
> > >
> > > > completing his bachelor?s in literature, Ayden took up a career
> > > > writing for any newspapers or journals that accepted his entries.
> > > > Writing for a small literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his
> > > > novel which had turned into a fictionalized account of his
> > > > grandfather?s death. Asking his father for any information about his
> > > > grandfather?s life, was the reason Ayden now sat in his father?s
> > > > study. He found more, he thought, than his father knew about though.
> > >
> > > > ?So what?s next?? Salma asked. Salma lived across the hall from Ayden
> > >
> > > > in his building. They had become friends, and Salma now was helping
> > > > him research his grandfather?s life. Tapping the key in his palm,
> > > > Ayden said, ?I?m not sure. This letter says a lot.? Ayden closed his
> > > > eyes thinking on this letter. It was evidence, even if
> > > > circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it, she could have
> > > > killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled before Salma
> > > > spoke. ?It?s pretty clear from this letter that your grandfather was
> > > > having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these initials, A.
> > > > W.? Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone he had
> > > > ever met with A. W. for initials. ?I don?t know,? he sighed.
> > > > As Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found
> > > an old
> > > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > the
> > > > third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping the
> > > gift,
> > > > then exclaimed, ?Oh,? before looking up with tears in her eyes.
> > > Wuthering
> > > > Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had been the one
> > > person to
> > > > encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up writing instead of
> > > joining
> > > > the family law firm. ?You?re meant to follow your own path,? Lucy had
> > > told
> > > > Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and Salma found a letter
> > > enclosed in
> > > > the pages of the book.
> > > > Ayden touched the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to
> > > Salma
> > > > to inspect. She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as
> > > the
> > > > book. A few of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The
> > > > letter was simple as she read:
> > > > Henry, my love,
> > > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming
> > > down the
> > > > road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer must
> > > we
> > > > wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too late.
> > > > Love, A. W.
> > > > ?What now? Where do we go next?? Salma asked.
> > > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. ?We visit the
> > > old
> > > > Templeton mansion.?
> > > > The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry and Lucy had lived
> > > in for
> > > > years. The family still owned it, but it had sat empty for years.
> > > Ayden
> > > > thought that maybe more secrets were hidden within the walls of the
> > > > Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden?s fingers
> > >
> > > > slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > > wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > > grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > > firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > > Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though.
> > > > Ayden really didn?t know much about his family?s past. Lucy and Henry
> > >
> > > > had moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but
> > > > Ayden had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable
> > >
> > > > to cope with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the
> > > > City, and Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now
> > > > for ten years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. ?Are we
> > > > there?? ?Yes. What?s our first stop?? ?I?m figuring this out as we
> > > > go along. I guess the police station.? Salma was silent before
> > > > saying, ?You okay? I know your dad wasn?t happy.? Ayden had
> > > > questioned his father about the letter, but Nick had gone quiet and
> > > > cold before telling Ayden, ?Leave it alone. We don?t dig up family
> > > > history.? Ayden tried to coax Nick to say more, but the subject was
> > > > closed. ?Yeah. I wish he would have told us more. Explained
> > > > something,? Ayden said.
> > > > ?Maybe he just wants to keep your family secrets, well, secret. Some
> > > people
> > > > don?t like giving out info about anything.?
> > > > ?I just feel like he knows more than he?s letting on. Mom just played
> > > dumb
> > > > too.?
> > > > ?We?ll find something. Don?t worry.?
> > > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > life.
> > > > The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day, knocking on
> > > his
> > > > door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home made
> > > enchiladas.
> > > > That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > > > nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > > > Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world. Once
> > > moving
> > > > away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He showed up
> > > to the
> > > > office for work, attended cocktail parties required for work and even
> > > dated
> > > > a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he truly felt
> > > comfortable
> > > > with. Her infectious way of always looking at things positively
> > > seemed like
> > > > a novelty to Ayden. She could always make him smile. When he began
> > > writing
> > > > the book about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could.
> > > > ?I?m really glad you?re here,? Ayden said.
> > > >
> > > > ?Yeah, yeah. I?m waiting for my pay check.? Salma giggled as she
> > > > pulled into a parking stall. ?I think we?re here.? While Salma
> > > > dropped coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the
> > > > brick walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his
> > > > cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. ?No Braille, is this
> > > > it?? he shouted back to Salma. ?I believe so,? she answered rushing to
> > >
> > > > catch up. They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the
> > > > police station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one
> > >
> > > > pressed keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency.
> > > > This, he thought, must be a reception desk.
> > > > Stepping up to a smooth feeling counter, Ayden said, ?Excuse me.?
> > > > ?Can I help you?? a woman?s bored voice said.
> > > > ?We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked the Henry
> > > > Templeton case,? Ayden said.
> > > > The woman stopped typing and a long silence followed. ?Who?s
> > > asking??
> > > > ?I?m Ayden Templeton, Henry?s grandson.?
> > > > ?One minute.? A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes clacked
> > > as she
> > > > walked away.
> > > > Salma touched Ayden?s arm. ?She had a weird look when you mentioned
> > > your
> > > > grandpa?s name.?
> > > > Ayden said nothing, not sure what he was doing there in the first
> > > place.
> > > > The woman?s shoes clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep
> > > > joined hers, but this person shuffled slightly.
> > > > The person shuffled towards Salma, saying, ?Hello. I?m Sheriff
> > > Jenkins.
> > > > How can I help you??
> > > > Ayden stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff
> > > Jenkins.
> > > > ?I?m Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions
> > > about
> > > > my grandfather?s death.?
> > > > There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook Ayden?s hand. ?Step
> > > into my
> > > > office please.?
> > > > Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > > department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame, indicating
> > > the
> > > > width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden
> > > asked
> > > > where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins
> > > indicated.
> > > > Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane across the
> > > seat,
> > > > Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma?s arm
> > > brushed his
> > > > as she sat next to him.
> > > > ?Can I get you anything?? Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > ?No, but thank you. Salma??
> > > > ?I?m good,? Salma replied.
> > > > Ayden felt a tension fill the room as the three sat there, not
> > > speaking.
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins began tapping the edge of the metal table in the
> > > > interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his fingers.
> > > Salma
> > > > bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden?s shin.
> > > > ?We?re hoping to learn as much as we can about Henry Templeton?s
> > > death. I?m
> > > > researching the story for a novel I?m working on,? Ayden started.
> > > > ?I worked the case. There?s not much to tell,? Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > > ?I know you eventually reported it as an accidental death, but was
> > > there
> > > > ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?? Ayden asked.
> > > > ?No. We questioned friends and family and there was no reason to
> > > believe
> > > > Henry Templeton was murdered,? Sheriff Jenkins said sharply.
> > > > Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, ?I know there
> > > > was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it.?
> > > > ?Lucy Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she
> > > married
> > > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted.?
> > > > Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. ?I thought Henry was a catch? You know, a
> > > lawyer from
> > > > a wealthy family.?
> > > > ?He was a playboy. Always was, never changed.?
> > > > ?Who did you question about his death?? Salma broke in.
> > > > The sheriff?s chair creaked as he leaned back. ?Well, of course Lucy
> > > and
> > > > her boy Nick. They were there. Found his body and all.?
> > > > Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance. He was talking like he
> > > had
> > > > forgot who Ayden was.
> > > > ?Then there was Zelda, the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came
> > > around
> > > > about once a week to help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden.
> > > Her
> > > > roses won prizes around here,? Sheriff Jenkins continued.
> > > > ?Anyone else?? Ayden asked.
> > > > ?Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn?t see
> > > much of
> > > > him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > years.
> > > > She still did stuff part-time for Henry.?
> > > > Ayden had pulled out a three-by-five plastic device that had six rows
> > > of
> > > > cells containing three holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop
> > > sound
> > > > was made as Ayden poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus
> > > through
> > > > the holes as he took Braille notes. ?Are any of these people still
> > > around??
> > > > ?Not everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton?s to leave
> > > town.
> > > > Other than Henry?s work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > around
> > > > here. At least the one?s who are still alive.?
> > > > ?Is there anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange
> > > you
> > > > noticed? Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental
> > > > tumble down the stairs??
> > > > The sheriff laughed. ?I know you city folk like to dream up seedy
> > > > happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton?s death was nothing
> > > more than
> > > > an accident. Nothing dark about it.?
> > > > ?Thank you for your time,? Ayden said extending his hand again to
> > > shake
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins?s.
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins sighed. ?Look, don?t go digging anything up. Just
> > > let the
> > > > dead rest.?
> > > > Salma?s bracelet tinkled as they stood.
> > > > ?We understand. I?m just trying to find things out about my
> > > grandfather for
> > > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered,? Ayden said.
> > > > ?Are you two married?? Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > Ayden, confused by the switch, replied, ?No.?
> > > > The sheriff chuckled. ?Like your grandpa, I see.?
> > > > Ayden blushed, but Salma said, ?Ayden is nothing but a gentleman.
> > > Clearly
> > > > something he did not pick up in this town.?
> > > > ?I know the kind of men the Templeton?s are,? the sheriff said.
> > > > Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave.
> > > > ?At least he has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > admiring
> > > > this whole time,? Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > rush
> > > > of breeze as she left the room.
> > > >
> > > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > > ?I?m sorry. I didn?t know what to say.?
> > > > ?It?s okay. He was a pig.?
> > > > ?I didn?t realize-?
> > > > ?I know, its okay. Where to next??
> > > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. ?The house, I
> > >
> > > > guess.? As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > > Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > > simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > >
> > > > he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > > admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > >
> > > > Salma.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > > during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > >
> > > > always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > > complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > > house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto
> > > > a large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories
> > > > reached majestically towards the sky.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > >
> > > > the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > > banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > > porch, he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of
> > > > falling through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly
> > > > drove down the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It
> > >
> > > > was as though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the
> > > > distant sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose
> > > > as Salma stood next to him. ?How does it look?? Ayden asked ignoring
> > > > the scent. Salma took a deep breath. ?It?s run down, that?s for sure.
> > >
> > > > I can?t believe no one has lived here for years.? ?My family still
> > > > owns it, but after my grandfather?s death, no one wanted to do
> > > > anything about it.? Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the
> > > > dilapidated Victorian house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key
> > > > he had found in his father?s office. As he inserted the heavy key in
> > > > the lock, a quiet click was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open.
> > > > He looked in Salma?s direction before stepping inside. Shutting the
> > > > door, the house engulfed all sound like a tomb.
> > > > ?Creepy,? Salma said as she shivered.
> > > > Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to
> > > not
> > > > run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he
> > > inhaled.
> > > > ?This has been sitting for years,? Ayden rasped. ?What?s it look
> > > like??
> > > > Salma looked around. ?It?s really dark, but it?s almost completely
> > > empty.
> > > > What do you think you?ll find??
> > > > ?I?m not sure. Sheriff Jenkins wasn?t much help. I just thought,
> > > maybe
> > > > something??
> > > > Salma?s sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open
> > > it.
> > > > ?Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air.?
> > > > Ayden felt a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered up. The
> > > sound of
> > > > kids jumping rope ruined the house?s stolid silence. Life entered the
> > > house
> > > > again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue.
> > > > Salma clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling
> > > walls
> > > > and any remaining furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He
> > > rifled
> > > > through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust
> > > and
> > > > cobwebs.
> > > > ?Ayden, Ayden!? Salma shouted a couple of hours later.
> > > > Ayden hurried towards the staircase. ?Salma! Are you okay??
> > > > ?Get up here! I found something!?
> > > > Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the top, he shouted,
> > > ?What
> > > > room??
> > > > ?Um, it?s a bedroom.?
> > > > Hearing her voice off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At
> > > the
> > > > end, he found a door open.
> > > > ?Salma??
> > > > Salma?s clapping sandals moved towards Ayden.
> > > > ?Look at this,? she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper
> > > crackled
> > > > as she shoved something in Ayden?s hand.
> > > > Ayden grinned. ?Um?? He handed the paper back to Salma.
> > > > ?Oh-sorry. I just-you won?t believe this.?
> > > > It was another letter; a love letter to Henry.
> > > > Henry, My love,
> > > > I miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > with
> > > > you, really be with you. Let?s stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > Don?t
> > > > be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop hiding.
> > > > There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but don?t
> > > take
> > > > long.
> > > > Love,
> > > > A. W.
> > > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > quite
> > > > sure what her excitement was for.
> > > > ?We already know Henry was having an affair of sorts,? he said.
> > > > Salma sighed impatiently. ?Ayden, think about it. Don?t you see??
> > > > ?Not really,? he said slowly.
> > > > She grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a
> > > strength
> > > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > Ayden
> > > > took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > with it.
> > > > Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing him back
> > > to
> > > > attention.
> > > > ?Ayden, A. W. Don?t you see it yet??
> > > > ?A. W.??
> > > > ?The initials,? she said exasperated, ?A. W. Alice Whitley.?
> > > > ?Who?s Alice Whitley??
> > > > Salma smacked her forehead. ?Ay-where are your notes from today??
> > > > Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back pocket.
> > > > ?Now read through it,? Salma said as though talking to a small child.
> > > > Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up at
> > > Salma.
> > > > ?See?? Salma asked.
> > > > ?I can?t believe we didn?t realize it then. His secretary. And
> > > Sheriff
> > > > Jenkins said she?s still living in town.?
> > > > ?Think we can find her??
> > > > ?Give me a minute,? Ayden said reaching for his mobile phone tucked
> > > away in
> > > > his pocket.
> > > > An electronic hum came from his phone as he maneuvered through the
> > > menus on
> > > > his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped
> > > Ayden
> > > > utilize the functions on his phone.
> > > > ?Got it. There?s only one Alice Whitley that shows up in town.?
> > > > ?Thank God for technology,? Salma said. ?No wonder no one could ever
> > > solve
> > > > this case.?
> > > > Ayden smirked at her. ?Thank God for accessible technology. Come on.
> > > She
> > > > doesn?t live far from here and it?s not too late.?
> > > >
> > > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > > less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > > well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman?s
> > > > voice gasped, ?Oh.? ?Miss Whitley? I?m Ayden-?
> > > > ?Templeton,? she said. ?You look like Henry.?
> > > > Smiling, Ayden said, ?Miss Whitley, this is my friend Salma. We?re
> > > working
> > > > on a book about my grandfather, and we would like to ask you some
> > > > questions.?
> > > > ?Oh, of course. Come in, come in.?
> > > > As the door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent
> > > that he
> > > > couldn?t place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > into a
> > > > sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the soft
> > > couch
> > > > while Alice sat across from them.
> > > > ?Can I offer you anything? I just made lemonade.?
> > > > ?That would be wonderful,? Salma said.
> > > > As Alice left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. ?I?m sorry, I
> > > didn?t
> > > > even think to ask if you were hungry.?
> > > > ?Hon, it?s okay. I didn?t think about it myself until now.?
> > > > ?We?ll have dinner after this; I promise.?
> > > > ?Promise??
> > > > Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold glass in
> > > Ayden?s
> > > > hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp. The cold
> > > liquid felt
> > > > good down his throat after the dust of his family?s house. He could
> > > only
> > > > imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt the mingled grime of
> > > sweat
> > > > and dirt on his body. Why had it not occurred to them to stop
> > > somewhere
> > > > first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > > ?So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss
> > > him. You
> > > > must call me Alice.?
> > > > ?Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in his death,? Ayden
> > > said.
> > > > Alice choked on her lemonade. ?Why would you be interested in that??
> > > > ?I believe that maybe his death wasn?t accidental.?
> > > > ?Oh dear, don?t buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > > thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at.?
> > > > ?And yet the rumors persist,? Ayden said.
> > > > ?Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of there minds.?
> > > > ?You know Sheriff Jenkins?? Ayden asked.
> > > > ?Darling, it?s a town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody.?
> > > > Ayden sipped on his lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the
> > > side of
> > > > her glass.
> > > > ?We have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,? Ayden
> > > said.
> > > > He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like
> > > this
> > > > hundreds of times.
> > > > Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her voice had lost
> > > some of
> > > > its cheeriness when she responded by asking, ?What makes you say
> > > that??
> > > > Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He removed the Braille
> > > label,
> > > > setting the letter on the coffee table dividing Ayden and Salma from
> > > Alice.
> > > > The room grew still. The letter rustled as Alice picked it up. When
> > > she
> > > > spoke, she sounded choked as though she were holding back tears.
> > > > ?Where did you find this??
> > > > ?It was in some old boxes in the Templeton home,? Salma said.
> > > > A long silence followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling.
> > > > ?I suppose the truth has to come out sooner or later,? Alice said
> > > quietly.
> > > > ?We don?t need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think
> > > Henry
> > > > was killed?? Ayden soothed.
> > > > ?Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,? Alice began, ignoring
> > > > Ayden. ?I instantly fell in love with him, but he was that type.
> > > Dashingly
> > > > handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few years older than me, but
> > > I knew
> > > > how all the girls waited for their chance to rope Henry into marriage.
> > > I
> > > > felt so lucky to see him everyday. I started out as a simple
> > > receptionist,
> > > > but eventually he promoted me to his personal secretary.?
> > > > ?Did you move with my grandparents then, when they moved?? Ayden
> > > asked.
> > > > Alice sighed. ?Yes, but after-things happened-I moved back. I
> > > remained in
> > > > his employ, working from the office here in town. Before your father
> > > took
> > > > charge, Henry?s headquarters had always been based from here.?
> > > > Ayden nodded his head.
> > > > ?I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us both,
> > > Lucy
> > > > and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed up with
> > > that
> > > > smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I should?ve known
> > > better,
> > > > but I was in love.?
> > > > Alice continued to spill her story, hoping for redemption perhaps.
> > > > ?The final straw came right before his death. We had carried on for
> > > almost
> > > > forty-years and I knew it had to stop. We fought. I threatened to
> > > tell
> > > > Lucy and that was that. He left me promising to choose. I waited for
> > > an
> > > > answer, but a week later, Henry was found dead.?
> > > > ?Did you ever tell anyone?? Ayden asked.
> > > > ?No.?
> > > >
> > > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice?s house. A breeze
> > > > tousled Ayden?s hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > > dark tresses. ?Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible,? she
> > >
> > > > said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned,
> > > > but before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click
> > > > open. He slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. ?You promised
> > > > me dinner,? Salma whined playfully.
> > > >
> > > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma
> > > > found themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up
> > > > with Ayden?s stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc.
> > > > ?Sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a small town,? Salma
> > > > mused. ?Really, you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day,? Ayden
> > > > joked. ?I could drive to the city. I don?t know. It seems like a
> > > > nice place to raise a family.? Ayden had never heard Salma speak about
> > >
> > > > kids or families. As well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was
> > > > plenty he still had to learn about Salma. ?Yes, we could raise happy
> > > > little kids who will grow up to cheat, lie and murder,? Ayden scoffed.
> > > > ?We, huh??
> > > > Ayden blushed, feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He
> > > hadn?t
> > > > caught his blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of
> > > his
> > > > words, Salma grabbed his hand.
> > > > ?Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,? she said.
> > > > They walked silently back to the car.
> > > > ?It?s pretty late, what should we do?? Salma asked.
> > > > Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch up. Feeling the raised
> > > dots and
> > > > arrows with his pointer finger on his Braille watch, he said, ?It?s a
> > > > quarter to eleven. I?m beat.?
> > > > ?Me too. I don?t really feel like driving back tonight though.?
> > > > Ayden scratched his head. ?I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton.?
> > > > ?Okay, but no funny business,? Salma joked.
> > > > Sitting in the car, Ayden said, ?By the way, unlike some men in my
> > > family,
> > > > I?m more of a one-woman type.?
> > > >
> > > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > > ?Sure you don?t want to sleep in another room?? Ayden asked. ?Hell no!
> > >
> > > > This house is creepy.? ?I thought you wanted to raise children here??
> > > > ?Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?? The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > down
> > > > on it. ?A bit musty.?
> > > > They had found spare bed linens in a box and had attempted to shake
> > > them out
> > > > as best they could. Ayden had noticed a lingering wispy scent of
> > > flowers
> > > > that he could not place. It may have been the remnants of something
> > > used to
> > > > launder the linens years ago, he had thought.
> > > > Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to Salma.
> > > ?Here.
> > > > You can wrap your pillow in it.?
> > > > ?Thanks,? Salma said drawing the word out.
> > > > Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for the millionth time
> > > that day.
> > > > Not able to turn back what he had done, Ayden lay slowly down,
> > > sticking
> > > > close to the edge.
> > > > ?Keep your hands above the blankets,? Salma yawned.
> > > >
> > > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as
> > > > he felt Salma?s small body nestled against his. She snored quietly
> > > > and Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself
> > > > gently from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the
> > > > bathroom, but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working
> > >
> > > > order. It was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he
> > > > found his way downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no
> > > > neighbors were awake to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep
> > > > still, his eyes snapped open as a slight shuffle came from behind him.
> > >
> > > > Finished with his midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound
> > > > came again. He turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. ?Hello,?
> > >
> > > > he said. No response came. He turned back towards the house and as he
> > >
> > > > walked, Ayden felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a
> > >
> > > > child when terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult
> > > > now, he chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the
> > > > house, he reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut
> > > > the doors, a soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could
> > > > have been the long dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden
> > > > placed himself in the doorway again. The noise instantly stopped.
> > > > Slamming the door and locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking
> > > three
> > > > steps at a time. Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden
> > > felt a
> > > > cool breeze cut through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he
> > > swore to
> > > > himself. They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air
> > > out
> > > > their lodgings for the night.
> > > > Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed. He sat on the bed
> > > resting
> > > > his head on the large carved headboard, listening.
> > > > Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of trees
> > > from
> > > > time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed around the
> > > > house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a step on the
> > > > stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes of
> > > vigilante
> > > > guarding.
> > > > Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his head, he smiled when
> > > Salma
> > > > threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only of Salma by now, Ayden
> > > drifted
> > > > back off to sleep.
> > > >
> > > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > >
> > > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > >
> > > > odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed.
> > > > ?Salma! There?s a fire!? He shook her until she woke up. ?We need to
> > >
> > > > get out of here,? Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience
> > > > state. Ayden flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made
> > > > his eyes water. ?Salma, I can?t tell if we can make it down the
> > > > stairs.? Standing next to him, she said, ?All I can see is smoke. Can
> > >
> > > > we jump out the window??
> > > > ?We?re on the second floor. It?s pretty high up.?
> > > > Now across the room, Ayden heard Salma cry, ?Oh-my-god! Ayden!?
> > > > ?What??
> > > > ?I can see flames around the base of the house.?
> > > > ?Shit.? Trying to think, Ayden gathered up the sheet from the bed.
> > > Dousing
> > > > it with water from the couple bottles purchased last night, he threw
> > > the
> > > > sheet at Salma. ?Wrap yourself in this.?
> > > > ?Why??
> > > > ?Just do it.?
> > > > Making sure her long hair was covered, Ayden threw Salma over his
> > > shoulder.
> > > > Grabbing his cane by the door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the
> > > shirt
> > > > tied around his face would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the
> > > > stairs. Despite the situation, Ayden could not help notice the
> > > > harlequin-romance-like predicament.
> > > > He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and he could
> > > not
> > > > understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he groped the
> > > banister
> > > > which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the bottom, he found his
> > > way to
> > > > the front door and opened it. A rush of fresh air greeted him.
> > > Feeling
> > > > heat, he hoped he could make it off the porch. At the top of the
> > > stairs,
> > > > panicked, he placed Salma upright again. She struggled to loosen the
> > > sheet
> > > > around her.
> > > > ?Are the flames here too?? Ayden asked.
> > > > ?No, but there coming from behind.?
> > > > At the end of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors
> > > could be
> > > > heard coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma
> > > asking
> > > > if they were okay.
> > > > Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of flames. Salma
> > > held his
> > > > hand as they waited in silence for the sound of sirens.
> > > >
> > > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins?s police cruiser.
> > > > The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket
> > > > draped his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he
> > > > could still smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had
> > > > extinguished the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about
> > > > Ayden?s age, drove Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a
> > >
> > > > report before Nick was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering
> > > > a cup of water. He gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her
> > > > head against his shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower
> > > > scent and smoke, Ayden protectively placed an arm around her.
> > > > ?Ayden,? Salma said in quiet surprise, ?Alice Whitley is here.?
> > > > Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he waited for Alice to approach. A
> > > new
> > > > scent filled his nostrils. This too smelled of flowers, but it was
> > > not the
> > > > framiliar jasmine and vanilla Salma wore. Through the fog of his
> > > brain, he
> > > > tried to place where he had smelled this scent before.
> > > > ?I?m glad you two are alright,? Alice spoke quietly. ?I can?t believe
> > > this.
> > > > Do you need anything??
> > > > ?Thank you, but we?re okay,? Salma said warmly.
> > > > ?Pete phoned me this morning-?
> > > > ?Sheriff Jenkins? Why?? Ayden asked.
> > > > Alice didn?t respond.
> > > > Waiting for an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that
> > > had
> > > > lingered in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens.
> > > > ?Alice, did you visit the house after we left you yesterday??
> > > > Alice made a noise as though she were suppressing it in her throat.
> > > She
> > > > never answered and before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her
> > > > muffled footsteps on the grass as she walked briskly away.
> > > > ?Ayden?? Salma puzzled.
> > > > ?Her perfume, it?s the same smell I noticed in the closet last night.?
> > > > ?Ayden, that?s where I found the letter too,? Salma whispered.?
> > > > Ayden heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them.
> > > It was
> > > > Nick.
> > > > ?Are you crazy?? Nick asked, bewildered.
> > > > ?I?m fine. Nice to see you too, Dad.?
> > > > Nick let out a long breath before saying, ?Your mother and I went
> > > crazy when
> > > > we heard what happened. We?re glad you?re okay.?
> > > > ?Is the house ruined?? Ayden asked.
> > > > Salma shifted and sat upright next to Ayden.
> > > > ?It?s mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage to the
> > > house.?
> > > > Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy?s favorite
> > > place.
> > > > Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall bushes as Lucy
> > > tended
> > > > to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his thoughts, Ayden heard a
> > > shuffling
> > > > footstep approach. Another memory pushed itself front and center in
> > > his
> > > > mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped his pace, Ayden gave him a hard
> > > look.
> > > > ?Tom says it will take a few weeks to get reports back, but there is
> > > some
> > > > structural damage to the house, Nick,? the sheriff said.
> > > > ?Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind lately?? Ayden directed
> > > to
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > No one spoke. Salma gripped his hand.
> > > > ?Any reason why you?d call Alice Whitley early this morning?? Ayden
> > > > continued.
> > > > ?Drop it,? Nick hissed at Ayden.
> > > > Thrown off by Nick?s tone, Ayden squeezed Salma?s hand, unsure what to
> > > do.
> > > > ?I?m sure we?re all tired and need to collect our thoughts,? Sheriff
> > > Jenkins
> > > > said. ?Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick.? Ayden heard
> > > the
> > > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers
> > > > as JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > >
> > > > typed. ?Still working?? Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > >
> > > > back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > > slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > > laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. ?That
> > > > just turns me on more.?
> > > > ?I called you a great big moron whose brain is the size of his-?
> > > > ?Doesn?t matter. Still sounds sexy.?
> > > > Salma whipped another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom.
> > > > Turning back to his work, Ayden decided to check his email.
> > > > As he clicked on the necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought
> > > over
> > > > the past few weeks.
> > > > Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that everything
> > > was
> > > > circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had opened
> > > something
> > > > up. Something that had been meant to remain secret. Nick refused to
> > > open
> > > > any investigation and he remained tight-lipped about anything he knew.
> > > > The fire was officially reported as an unknown accident since no
> > > evidence,
> > > > either way, had been found determining a cause. This, at least, was
> > > how the
> > > > police report read. Ayden, though, had inquired into the fire-chief?s
> > > > report. It too was inconclusive, but this report did mention that a
> > > match
> > > > book had been found near the premises. Salma had advised Ayden to
> > > wait
> > > > before attempting any further investigation.
> > > > Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks slip by without
> > > > searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the city, Ayden
> > > had
> > > > found the courage to express his budding feelings towards Salma.
> > > > They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night for them,
> > > except
> > > > this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation between them. Salma
> > > had
> > > > stood to get another beer from the kitchen when Ayden reached for her
> > > wrist.
> > > > His large palm had felt bigger next to her slim wrist. Both had
> > > stared
> > > > silently at one another. Ayden, thinking he would win this game since
> > > he
> > > > couldn?t see, broke first. Grinning with a smirk, he had pulled Salma
> > > to
> > > > him and kissed her.
> > > > Three weeks later, their routine was continued as normal, yet
> > > something was
> > > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > though
> > > > it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the new
> > > romance.
> > > > Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given for the
> > > first
> > > > email he came across. Opening it up, he read the following:
> > > > Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you stop your
> > > > investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall you.
> > > Thank
> > > > your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new love.
> > > > There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field, but
> > > the only
> > > > information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com. Ayden?s
> > > pulse
> > > > quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room, he closed
> > > the
> > > > window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her just yet.
> > > > Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug, Ayden
> > > knew this
> > > > was just the beginning.
> > > >
> > > > _______________________________________________
> > > > Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > > <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > >
> > > > stylist mailing list
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> > > > To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> > > > stylist:
> > > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/priscilla.mck
> > > > inley%40gmail.com
> > > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 3
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 07:53:42 -0400
> > > From: "Joe Orozco" <jsorozco at gmail.com>
> > > To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > Message-ID: <8CB6CFF16AAB48FDBCFCFE4B7CB7F925 at Rufus>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
> > >
> > > Bridgit,
> > >
> > > Excellent writing as always. For me, there are only a couple comments.
> > > First, there seemed to be too many issues wrestling for center stage.
> > > This is part of the restriction of a short story, but I felt tumbled
> > > about a little attempting to debate between attaching to the romantic
> > > plot, his blindness abilities, and the mystery. I guess I'd rather have
> > > a center element that captures me and holds me from beginning to end.
> > > Second, because the story moves at a fleeting clip, I wonder if you
> > > could rearrange the events a little. Perhaps you could start with Aiden
> > > and Salma meeting with an unidentified person, flash back to the
> > > unfolding events and then return to the present where the suspect is
> > > revealed? I guess I'm looking for something that would package the
> > > story in the same length but rearrange it so that the meal feels more
> > > balanced. Finally, and this just might show my ignorance, but although
> > > I don't mind hanging conclusions, I really have no idea how the plot was
> > > resolved. Right now I think the sheriff may have been responsible, but
> > > then, funny business about his father not pursuing an investigation.
> > > Maybe this was the point, to keep people guessing, but with multiple
> > > themes going on, I guess I'd like the presumed main theme to be
> > > resolved. All of this having been said, I really enjoyed the way
> > > Ayden's being blind did not detract from the general painting of the
> > > setting. If the narrator is going to be so descriptive about Ayden's
> > > other blindness skills, I may have described people's voices a little
> > > more in the dialogue, but all in all, this was a great way to start my
> > > Friday. Great job.
> > >
> > > Best,
> > >
> > > Joe
> > >
> > > "Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their
> > > sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all."--Sam
> > > Ewing
> > >
> > > -----Original Message-----
> > > From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org
> > > [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Priscilla McKinley
> > > Sent: Thursday, October 07, 2010 11:58 PM
> > > To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of
> > > Murder" some language, alludes to sexual content
> > >
> > > Bridgit,
> > >
> > > I really enjoyed reading your piece. I was very much engaged by the
> > > story. The only part I had issues with was the beginning. It seems as
> > > though too much history is packed into a few paragraphs. Perhaps you
> > > could incorporate some of the details in other parts and introduce the
> > > characters and stories as they come up? Plus, it might be interesting
> > > to let your readers wonder for a while what is going on, leading them in
> > > to discover that they are in the middle of an amateur murder
> > > investigation.
> > >
> > > Nice work!
> > >
> > > Priscilla
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > On 10/7/10, Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com> wrote:
> > > >
> > > > Hey guys,
> > > >
> > > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an
> > > upper lit credit.
> > > > We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > mine with you.
> > > > Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote it in about a
> > >
> > > > 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > > >
> > > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > >
> > > > Bridgit P
> > > >
> > > > Sense of Murder
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in his father's leather wingback chair rolling a
> > > large key between
> > > > his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed
> > > by his hands.
> > > > He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > rough , rusty
> > > > surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been researching
> > > the mysterious
> > > > death of his grandfather for a book he was writing. Now, he
> > > sat among items
> > > > wondering if his grandfather had been murdered.
> > > > Ayden's father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > at the bottom
> > > > of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > incident after
> > > > reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > about Henry's death
> > > > either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to search through
> > > any items Nick
> > > > kept.
> > > > No one had been sure what happened. Lucy, Ayden's
> > > grandmother, had been
> > > > present too when Henry's body was found. The police recorded
> > > the death as
> > > > an accidental fall. Many silently pointed fingers at Lucy though.
> > > > Lucy had grown distraught during the past few months before
> > > Henry's death.
> > > > Friends and family reported that she had been distracted
> > > often or in an
> > > > irritated mood. This was unlike the warm and tender
> > > grandmother Ayden had
> > > > grown up with.
> > > > When Nick found his father's body, Lucy had gone wild,
> > > screaming, unable to
> > > > leave Henry's lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a
> > > care home.
> > > > Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too
> > > had passed.
> > > > Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was
> > > crazy, they said.
> > > > She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > what a small town
> > > > needed. The police never looked into the possibility, but
> > > Lucy died with a
> > > > scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could never
> > > believe that Lucy
> > > > would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden, guiding him,
> > > encouraging
> > > > him. "You're so full of potential, Ayden. I can see fire in
> > > your eyes,"
> > > > she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his vision, Lucy had
> > > been the one
> > > > person who supported him, still encouraging.
> > > > For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play, but
> > > no one ever
> > > > spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the closest
> > > anyone came to
> > > > mentioning "murder." Ayden, though, had never played by the
> > > rules. His
> > > > mother referred to him as the "black sheep of the family"
> > > whenever she threw
> > > > a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he fit in his family's world of
> > >
> > > > snobbish dinner parties, elite country clubs and preferential
> > > treatment at
> > > > most Ivy League universities. He had already been a
> > > disappointment to his
> > > > family before a car accident left him blind. Seven-years
> > > later, Ayden had
> > > > come to terms with his blindness, but his family accepted him
> > > only out of
> > > > duty. His father had been clear when saying, "This condition
> > > of yours is
> > > > not suitable for the courtroom, but the firm can take you on
> > > in a capacity
> > > > for research, perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable."
> > > > Ayden was not able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After
> > >
> > > > completing his bachelor's in literature, Ayden took up a
> > > career writing for
> > > > any newspapers or journals that accepted his entries.
> > > Writing for a small
> > > > literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had
> > > turned into a
> > > > fictionalized account of his grandfather's death. Asking his
> > > father for any
> > > > information about his grandfather's life, was the reason
> > > Ayden now sat in
> > > > his father's study. He found more, he thought, than his
> > > father knew about
> > > > though.
> > > > "So what's next?" Salma asked. Salma lived across the hall
> > > from Ayden in
> > > > his building. They had become friends, and Salma now was helping him
> > > > research his grandfather's life. Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden
> > > > said, "I'm not sure. This
> > > letter says a
> > > > lot."
> > > > Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > evidence, even if
> > > > circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it, she
> > > could have killed
> > > > Henry.
> > > > There was a pause then paper crackled before Salma spoke.
> > > "It's pretty
> > > > clear from this letter that your grandfather was having an
> > > affair. I wonder
> > > > if we can figure out these initials, A. W."
> > > > Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone he
> > > had ever met with
> > > > A. W. for initials. "I don't know," he sighed.
> > > > As Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they
> > > had found an old
> > > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry
> > > had given the
> > > > third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat
> > > unwrapping the gift,
> > > > then exclaimed, "Oh," before looking up with tears in her
> > > eyes. Wuthering
> > > > Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had been
> > > the one person to
> > > > encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up writing
> > > instead of joining
> > > > the family law firm. "You're meant to follow your own path,"
> > > Lucy had told
> > > > Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and Salma found a
> > > letter enclosed in
> > > > the pages of the book.
> > > > Ayden touched the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it
> > > out to Salma
> > > > to inspect. She told him the letter appeared old, but not as
> > > old as the
> > > > book. A few of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The
> > >
> > > > letter was simple as she read: Henry, my love,
> > > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you
> > > coming down the
> > > > road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much
> > > longer must we
> > > > wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too late.
> > > > Love, A. W. "What now? Where do we go next?" Salma asked.
> > > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. "We
> > > visit the old
> > > > Templeton mansion."
> > > > The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry and Lucy
> > > had lived in for
> > > > years. The family still owned it, but it had sat empty for
> > > years. Ayden
> > > > thought that maybe more secrets were hidden within the walls of the
> > > > Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as
> > > Ayden's fingers slid
> > > > across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes,
> > > Ayden wondered
> > > > where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > grandparents and
> > > > father had grown up. Henry had started a small law firm in town, but
> > > > eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when Nick had
> > > been ten. Nick
> > > > never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden really didn't
> > > know much about
> > > > his family's past. Lucy and Henry had moved back to their
> > > old house once
> > > > Nick took the firm over, but Ayden had rarely visited the
> > > home. After Henry
> > > > had died, Lucy, unable to cope with his death, had moved into
> > > an upscale
> > > > nursing home in the City, and Nick left the house untouched.
> > > The house had
> > > > sat empty now for ten years.
> > > > As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. "Are we there?" "Yes.
> > > > What's our first stop?" "I'm figuring this out as we go along. I
> > > > guess the police station." Salma was silent before saying, "You okay?
> > >
> > > > I know your dad
> > > wasn't happy."
> > > > Ayden had questioned his father about the letter, but Nick
> > > had gone quiet
> > > > and cold before telling Ayden, "Leave it alone. We don't dig
> > > up family
> > > > history."
> > > > Ayden tried to coax Nick to say more, but the subject was closed.
> > > > "Yeah. I wish he would have told us more. Explained
> > > something," Ayden
> > > > said.
> > > > "Maybe he just wants to keep your family secrets, well,
> > > secret. Some people
> > > > don't like giving out info about anything."
> > > > "I just feel like he knows more than he's letting on. Mom
> > > just played dumb
> > > > too."
> > > > "We'll find something. Don't worry."
> > > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant
> > > in his life.
> > > > The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day,
> > > knocking on his
> > > > door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home
> > > made enchiladas.
> > > > That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > >
> > > > nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > >
> > > > Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world.
> > > Once moving
> > > > away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > showed up to the
> > > > office for work, attended cocktail parties required for work
> > > and even dated
> > > > a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he truly felt
> > > comfortable
> > > > with. Her infectious way of always looking at things
> > > positively seemed like
> > > > a novelty to Ayden. She could always make him smile. When
> > > he began writing
> > > > the book about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could.
> > >
> > > > "I'm really glad you're here," Ayden said.
> > > >
> > > > "Yeah, yeah. I'm waiting for my pay check." Salma giggled
> > > as she pulled
> > > > into a parking stall. "I think we're here."
> > > > While Salma dropped coins into the parking meter, Ayden
> > > tapped his cane
> > > > along the brick walls looking for the door. Hearing the
> > > clink of glass as
> > > > his cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door.
> > > > "No Braille, is this it?" he shouted back to Salma.
> > > > "I believe so," she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > > They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the
> > > police station.
> > > > Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one
> > > pressed keys on a
> > > > computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > thought, must be a
> > > > reception desk.
> > > > Stepping up to a smooth feeling counter, Ayden said, "Excuse me." "Can
> > >
> > > > I help you?" a woman's bored voice said. "We were wondering if we can
> > > > speak to some one who worked the Henry Templeton case," Ayden said.
> > > > The woman stopped typing and a long silence followed. "Who's
> > > asking?"
> > > > "I'm Ayden Templeton, Henry's grandson."
> > > > "One minute." A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > clacked as she
> > > > walked away.
> > > > Salma touched Ayden's arm. "She had a weird look when you
> > > mentioned your
> > > > grandpa's name."
> > > > Ayden said nothing, not sure what he was doing there in the
> > > first place.
> > > > The woman's shoes clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep
> > >
> > > > joined hers, but this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled
> > > > towards Salma, saying, "Hello. I'm
> > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > How can I help you?"
> > > > Ayden stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to
> > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > "I'm Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some
> > > questions about
> > > > my grandfather's death."
> > > > There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook Ayden's hand.
> > > "Step into my
> > > > office please."
> > > > Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > > department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame,
> > > indicating the
> > > > width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame.
> > > Ayden asked
> > > > where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins
> > > indicated.
> > > > Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane
> > > across the seat,
> > > > Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma's
> > > arm brushed his
> > > > as she sat next to him.
> > > > "Can I get you anything?" Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > "No, but thank you. Salma?"
> > > > "I'm good," Salma replied.
> > > > Ayden felt a tension fill the room as the three sat there,
> > > not speaking.
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins began tapping the edge of the metal table in the
> > > > interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his
> > > fingers. Salma
> > > > bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden's shin. "We're hoping
> > > > to learn as much as we can about Henry
> > > Templeton's death. I'm
> > > > researching the story for a novel I'm working on," Ayden started. "I
> > > > worked the case. There's not much to tell," Sheriff Jenkins said. "I
> > > > know you eventually reported it as an accidental death,
> > > but was there
> > > > ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?" Ayden asked.
> > > > "No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > reason to believe
> > > > Henry Templeton was murdered," Sheriff Jenkins said sharply. Ayden
> > > > shifted his head towards Salma before saying, "I know there
> > > > was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it." "Lucy Baldwin?
> > > > She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked
> > > when she married
> > > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted."
> > > > Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > >
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch? You
> > > know, a lawyer from
> > > > a wealthy family."
> > > > "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > > "Who did you question about his death?" Salma broke in.
> > > > The sheriff's chair creaked as he leaned back. "Well, of
> > > course Lucy and
> > > > her boy Nick. They were there. Found his body and all." Ayden shot
> > > > the sheriff a questioning glance. He was talking
> > > like he had
> > > > forgot who Ayden was.
> > > > "Then there was Zelda, the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he
> > > came around
> > > > about once a week to help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her
> > > garden. Her
> > > > roses won prizes around here," Sheriff Jenkins continued. "Anyone
> > > > else?" Ayden asked. "Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so
> > >
> > > > they
> > > didn't see much of
> > > > him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal
> > > secretary for years.
> > > > She still did stuff part-time for Henry."
> > > > Ayden had pulled out a three-by-five plastic device that had
> > > six rows of
> > > > cells containing three holes on each side of the cells. A
> > > pop-pop-pop sound
> > > > was made as Ayden poked a pointed awl-like object called a
> > > stylus through
> > > > the holes as he took Braille notes. "Are any of these people
> > > still around?"
> > > > "Not everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton's
> > > to leave town.
> > > > Other than Henry's work associates, I think most of them
> > > still live around
> > > > here. At least the one's who are still alive."
> > > > "Is there anything else you can tell us? Was there anything
> > > strange you
> > > > noticed? Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental
> > >
> > > > tumble down the stairs?" The sheriff laughed. "I know you city folk
> > > > like to dream up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry
> > > > Templeton's death was
> > > nothing more than
> > > > an accident. Nothing dark about it."
> > > > "Thank you for your time," Ayden said extending his hand
> > > again to shake
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins's.
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins sighed. "Look, don't go digging anything up.
> > > Just let the
> > > > dead rest."
> > > > Salma's bracelet tinkled as they stood.
> > > > "We understand. I'm just trying to find things out about my
> > > grandfather for
> > > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered," Ayden said.
> > > > "Are you two married?" Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > Ayden, confused by the switch, replied, "No."
> > > > The sheriff chuckled. "Like your grandpa, I see."
> > > > Ayden blushed, but Salma said, "Ayden is nothing but a
> > > gentleman. Clearly
> > > > something he did not pick up in this town."
> > > > "I know the kind of men the Templeton's are," the sheriff said. Unsure
> > >
> > > > of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. "At least he has a better chance
> > >
> > > > of touching what you have
> > > been admiring
> > > > this whole time," Salma snapped. She turned quickly and
> > > Ayden felt a rush
> > > > of breeze as she left the room.
> > > >
> > > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > > "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."
> > > > "It's okay. He was a pig."
> > > > "I didn't realize-"
> > > > "I know, its okay. Where to next?"
> > > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. "The house, I
> > >
> > > > guess." As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > Ayden wondered
> > > > why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it simply
> > > said in a
> > > > moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words, he
> > > thought. He has a
> > > > better chance of touching what you have been admiring. For
> > > the first time,
> > > > Ayden thought of the possibilities with Salma.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it
> > > had been during
> > > > the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house
> > > had always stood
> > > > out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses complete with
> > > > emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton house had a
> > > > wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a large lawn
> > >
> > > > complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > majestically
> > > > towards the sky.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house.
> > > The feel of the
> > > > railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark
> > > wooden banister.
> > > > The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > porch, he felt a
> > > > slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of falling through the
> > >
> > > > porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly drove down
> > > the street, but
> > > > a strange silence surrounded the house. It was as though Ayden were
> > > > underneath water trying to make out the distant sounds. The scent of
> > > > jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma stood next to him.
> > > > "How does it look?" Ayden asked ignoring the scent. Salma took a deep
> > > > breath. "It's run down, that's for sure.
> > > I can't believe
> > > > no one has lived here for years."
> > > > "My family still owns it, but after my grandfather's death,
> > > no one wanted to
> > > > do anything about it."
> > > > Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated
> > > Victorian house.
> > > > He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his father's
> > > > office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet
> > > click was heard.
> > > > Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in Salma's
> > > direction before
> > > > stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house engulfed all
> > > sound like a
> > > > tomb.
> > > > "Creepy," Salma said as she shivered.
> > > > Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide
> > > so as to not
> > > > run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as
> > > he inhaled.
> > > > "This has been sitting for years," Ayden rasped. "What's it
> > > look like?"
> > > > Salma looked around. "It's really dark, but it's almost
> > > completely empty.
> > > > What do you think you'll find?"
> > > > "I'm not sure. Sheriff Jenkins wasn't much help. I just
> > > thought, maybe
> > > > something."
> > > > Salma's sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a
> > > window to open it.
> > > > "Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air." Ayden felt
> > > > a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered
> > > up. The sound of
> > > > kids jumping rope ruined the house's stolid silence. Life
> > > entered the house
> > > > again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma
> > > > clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room
> > > feeling walls
> > > > and any remaining furniture, hoping to find something,
> > > anything. He rifled
> > > > through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only
> > > found dust and
> > > > cobwebs.
> > > > "Ayden, Ayden!" Salma shouted a couple of hours later.
> > > > Ayden hurried towards the staircase. "Salma! Are you okay?" "Get up
> > > > here! I found something!" Ayden clambered up the grand staircase.
> > > > Reaching the top, he
> > > shouted, "What
> > > > room?"
> > > > "Um, it's a bedroom."
> > > > Hearing her voice off to his left, Ayden moved down the
> > > hallway. At the
> > > > end, he found a door open.
> > > > "Salma?"
> > > > Salma's clapping sandals moved towards Ayden.
> > > > "Look at this," she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and
> > > paper crackled
> > > > as she shoved something in Ayden's hand.
> > > > Ayden grinned. "Um." He handed the paper back to Salma. "Oh-sorry.
> > > > I just-you won't believe this." It was another letter; a love letter
> > > > to Henry. Henry, My love,
> > > > I miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited
> > > years to be with
> > > > you, really be with you. Let's stop the pretending, stop the
> > > lies. Don't
> > > > be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop hiding.
> > >
> > > > There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > don't take
> > > > long.
> > > > Love,
> > > > A. W.
> > > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden
> > > was not quite
> > > > sure what her excitement was for.
> > > > "We already know Henry was having an affair of sorts," he said. Salma
> > > > sighed impatiently. "Ayden, think about it. Don't you see?" "Not
> > > > really," he said slowly. She grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers
> > > > gripped him with
> > > a strength
> > > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and
> > > once again, Ayden
> > > > took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something
> > > else with it.
> > > > Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing
> > > him back to
> > > > attention.
> > > > "Ayden, A. W. Don't you see it yet?"
> > > > "A. W.?"
> > > > "The initials," she said exasperated, "A. W. Alice Whitley." "Who's
> > > > Alice Whitley?" Salma smacked her forehead. "Ay-where are your notes
> > > > from today?" Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his
> > > > back pocket. "Now read through it," Salma said as though talking to a
> > > > small child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked
> > > > sharply
> > > up at Salma.
> > > > "See?" Salma asked.
> > > > "I can't believe we didn't realize it then. His secretary.
> > > And Sheriff
> > > > Jenkins said she's still living in town."
> > > > "Think we can find her?"
> > > > "Give me a minute," Ayden said reaching for his mobile phone
> > > tucked away in
> > > > his pocket.
> > > > An electronic hum came from his phone as he maneuvered
> > > through the menus on
> > > > his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile
> > > phones, helped Ayden
> > > > utilize the functions on his phone.
> > > > "Got it. There's only one Alice Whitley that shows up in town."
> > > > "Thank God for technology," Salma said. "No wonder no one
> > > could ever solve
> > > > this case."
> > > > Ayden smirked at her. "Thank God for accessible technology.
> > > Come on. She
> > > > doesn't live far from here and it's not too late."
> > > >
> > > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The
> > > house was less
> > > > substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > well-kempt
> > > > lawn and cheery exterior.
> > > > The door opened and a woman's voice gasped, "Oh."
> > > > "Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-"
> > > > "Templeton," she said. "You look like Henry."
> > > > Smiling, Ayden said, "Miss Whitley, this is my friend Salma.
> > > We're working
> > > > on a book about my grandfather, and we would like to ask you some
> > > > questions." "Oh, of course. Come in, come in."
> > > > As the door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower
> > > scent that he
> > > > couldn't place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley
> > > ushered them into a
> > > > sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on
> > > the soft couch
> > > > while Alice sat across from them.
> > > > "Can I offer you anything? I just made lemonade."
> > > > "That would be wonderful," Salma said.
> > > > As Alice left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. "I'm
> > > sorry, I didn't
> > > > even think to ask if you were hungry."
> > > > "Hon, it's okay. I didn't think about it myself until now." "We'll
> > > > have dinner after this; I promise." "Promise?"
> > > > Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > glass in Ayden's
> > > > hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp. The
> > > cold liquid felt
> > > > good down his throat after the dust of his family's house.
> > > He could only
> > > > imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt the mingled
> > > grime of sweat
> > > > and dirt on his body. Why had it not occurred to them to
> > > stop somewhere
> > > > first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > > "So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I
> > > miss him. You
> > > > must call me Alice."
> > > > "Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in his death,"
> > > Ayden said.
> > > > Alice choked on her lemonade. "Why would you be interested in that?"
> > > > "I believe that maybe his death wasn't accidental." "Oh dear, don't
> > > > buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a thorough
> > > > investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at." "And yet the
> > > > rumors persist," Ayden said. "Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > > there minds." "You know Sheriff Jenkins?" Ayden asked.
> > > > "Darling, it's a town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody."
> > > > Ayden sipped on his lemonade as Salma clicked her nails
> > > against the side of
> > > > her glass.
> > > > "We have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,"
> > > Ayden said.
> > > > He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his
> > > father like this
> > > > hundreds of times.
> > > > Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her voice had
> > > lost some of
> > > > its cheeriness when she responded by asking, "What makes you
> > > say that?"
> > > > Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He removed the
> > > Braille label,
> > > > setting the letter on the coffee table dividing Ayden and
> > > Salma from Alice.
> > > > The room grew still. The letter rustled as Alice picked it
> > > up. When she
> > > > spoke, she sounded choked as though she were holding back tears.
> > > > "Where did you find this?" "It was in some old boxes in the Templeton
> > > > home," Salma said. A long silence followed in which Ayden could hear
> > > > Alice sniffling. "I suppose the truth has to come out sooner or
> > > > later," Alice
> > > said quietly.
> > > > "We don't need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason
> > > to think Henry
> > > > was killed?" Ayden soothed.
> > > > "Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen," Alice began, ignoring
> > >
> > > > Ayden. "I instantly fell in love with him, but he was that
> > > type. Dashingly
> > > > handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few years older than
> > > me, but I knew
> > > > how all the girls waited for their chance to rope Henry into
> > > marriage. I
> > > > felt so lucky to see him everyday. I started out as a simple
> > > receptionist,
> > > > but eventually he promoted me to his personal secretary." "Did you
> > > > move with my grandparents then, when they moved?"
> > > Ayden asked.
> > > > Alice sighed. "Yes, but after-things happened-I moved back.
> > > I remained in
> > > > his employ, working from the office here in town. Before
> > > your father took
> > > > charge, Henry's headquarters had always been based from here." Ayden
> > > > nodded his head. "I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened.
> > > > Henry loved
> > > us both, Lucy
> > > > and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > up with that
> > > > smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I should've
> > > known better,
> > > > but I was in love."
> > > > Alice continued to spill her story, hoping for redemption perhaps.
> > > > "The final straw came right before his death. We had carried
> > > on for almost
> > > > forty-years and I knew it had to stop. We fought. I
> > > threatened to tell
> > > > Lucy and that was that. He left me promising to choose. I
> > > waited for an
> > > > answer, but a week later, Henry was found dead."
> > > > "Did you ever tell anyone?" Ayden asked.
> > > > "No."
> > > >
> > > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice's house. A
> > > breeze tousled
> > > > Ayden's hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > dark tresses.
> > > > "Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible," she said
> > > teasingly.
> > > > Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > before he could
> > > > make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He slid into the
> > > > passenger seat, heart pounding. "You promised me dinner," Salma whined
> > >
> > > > playfully.
> > > >
> > > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and
> > > Salma found
> > > > themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up
> > > with Ayden's
> > > > stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. "Sometimes I think
> > >
> > > > it would be nice to live in a small town,"
> > > Salma mused.
> > > > "Really, you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day," Ayden joked.
> > > > "I could drive to the city. I don't know. It seems like a
> > > nice place to
> > > > raise a family."
> > > > Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > well as he
> > > > knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > learn about Salma.
> > > > "Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow up to
> > > cheat, lie and
> > > > murder," Ayden scoffed.
> > > > "We, huh?"
> > > > Ayden blushed, feeling the heat creep up his neck to his
> > > face. He hadn't
> > > > caught his blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make
> > > sense of his
> > > > words, Salma grabbed his hand.
> > > > "Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion," she said.
> > > > They walked silently back to the car.
> > > > "It's pretty late, what should we do?" Salma asked.
> > > > Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch up. Feeling the
> > > raised dots and
> > > > arrows with his pointer finger on his Braille watch, he said, "It's a
> > > > quarter to eleven. I'm beat." "Me too. I don't really feel like
> > > > driving back tonight though." Ayden scratched his head. "I guess we
> > > > can stay at casa-de-Templeton." "Okay, but no funny business," Salma
> > > > joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, "By the way, unlike some men
> > > in my family,
> > > > I'm more of a one-woman type."
> > > >
> > > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > > "Sure you don't want to sleep in another room?" Ayden asked. "Hell no!
> > >
> > > > This house is creepy." "I thought you wanted to raise children here?"
> > > > "Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?" The bed creaked as
> > > Salma lay down
> > > > on it. "A bit musty."
> > > > They had found spare bed linens in a box and had attempted to
> > > shake them out
> > > > as best they could. Ayden had noticed a lingering wispy
> > > scent of flowers
> > > > that he could not place. It may have been the remnants of
> > > something used to
> > > > launder the linens years ago, he had thought.
> > > > Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > Salma. "Here.
> > > > You can wrap your pillow in it."
> > > > "Thanks," Salma said drawing the word out.
> > > > Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for the millionth
> > > time that day.
> > > > Not able to turn back what he had done, Ayden lay slowly
> > > down, sticking
> > > > close to the edge.
> > > > "Keep your hands above the blankets," Salma yawned.
> > > >
> > > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly
> > > dawned as he felt
> > > > Salma's small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and Ayden
> > > > smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself
> > > gently from the
> > > > bed, trying to not wake Salma.
> > > > He needed to use the bathroom, but it struck him that the
> > > bathrooms would
> > > > not be in working order. It was primitive, but it would have
> > > to do, he
> > > > thought as he found his way downstairs and out into the back
> > > garden. Hoping
> > > > no neighbors were awake to see him, he relieved himself.
> > > > Half asleep still, his eyes snapped open as a slight shuffle came from
> > >
> > > > behind him. Finished with his midnight chore, he listened
> > > intently, but no
> > > > sound came again. He turned around, gripping his cane in one hand.
> > > > "Hello," he said. No response came. He turned back towards the house
> > > > and as he
> > > walked, Ayden
> > > > felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > > terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult
> > > now, he chided
> > > > himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house,
> > > he reached the
> > > > French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > soft shuffle
> > > > started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > dead foliage
> > > > rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > doorway again. The
> > > > noise instantly stopped.
> > > > Slamming the door and locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs,
> > > taking three
> > > > steps at a time. Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears,
> > > Ayden felt a
> > > > cool breeze cut through the stuffy air of the bedroom.
> > > DeMint, he swore to
> > > > himself. They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping
> > > to air out
> > > > their lodgings for the night.
> > > > Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed. He sat on
> > > the bed resting
> > > > his head on the large carved headboard, listening.
> > > > Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > trees from
> > > > time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed around the
> > >
> > > > house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a step on the
> > > > stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > of vigilante
> > > > guarding.
> > > > Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his head, he
> > > smiled when Salma
> > > > threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only of Salma by
> > > now, Ayden drifted
> > > > back off to sleep.
> > > >
> > > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > >
> > > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but
> > > an acrid odor
> > > > filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. "Salma!
> > > > There's a fire!" He shook her until she woke up. "We need to get out
> > > > of here," Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state.
> > > > Ayden flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made
> > > his eyes water.
> > > > "Salma, I can't tell if we can make it down the stairs." Standing
> > > > next to him, she said, "All I can see is smoke. Can
> > > we jump out
> > > > the window?"
> > > > "We're on the second floor. It's pretty high up."
> > > > Now across the room, Ayden heard Salma cry, "Oh-my-god! Ayden!"
> > > > "What?" "I can see flames around the base of the house."
> > > > "Shit." Trying to think, Ayden gathered up the sheet from
> > > the bed. Dousing
> > > > it with water from the couple bottles purchased last night,
> > > he threw the
> > > > sheet at Salma. "Wrap yourself in this."
> > > > "Why?"
> > > > "Just do it."
> > > > Making sure her long hair was covered, Ayden threw Salma over
> > > his shoulder.
> > > > Grabbing his cane by the door, he moved into the hallway.
> > > Hoping the shirt
> > > > tied around his face would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the
> > >
> > > > stairs. Despite the situation, Ayden could not help notice the
> > > > harlequin-romance-like predicament. He heard Salma say something, but
> > > > her face was muffled and he
> > > could not
> > > > understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > groped the banister
> > > > which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the bottom, he
> > > found his way to
> > > > the front door and opened it. A rush of fresh air greeted
> > > him. Feeling
> > > > heat, he hoped he could make it off the porch. At the top of
> > > the stairs,
> > > > panicked, he placed Salma upright again. She struggled to
> > > loosen the sheet
> > > > around her.
> > > > "Are the flames here too?" Ayden asked.
> > > > "No, but there coming from behind."
> > > > At the end of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone.
> > > Neighbors could be
> > > > heard coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden
> > > and Salma asking
> > > > if they were okay.
> > > > Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of flames.
> > > Salma held his
> > > > hand as they waited in silence for the sound of sirens.
> > > >
> > > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins's police
> > > cruiser. The
> > > > mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket
> > > draped his
> > > > shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could
> > > still smell
> > > > the smoke embracing his body.
> > > > Once the firemen had extinguished the fire, Sheriff Jenkins
> > > and his deputy,
> > > > a man about Ayden's age, drove Salma and Ayden to the police
> > > station. Each
> > > > gave a report before Nick was contacted.
> > > > Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > gulped the cool
> > > > liquid down as Salma rested her head against his shoulder.
> > > Sniffing her
> > > > hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden protectively
> > > placed an arm
> > > > around her.
> > > > "Ayden," Salma said in quiet surprise, "Alice Whitley is here." Ayden
> > > > pulled the blanket closed as he waited for Alice to
> > > approach. A new
> > > > scent filled his nostrils. This too smelled of flowers, but
> > > it was not the
> > > > framiliar jasmine and vanilla Salma wore. Through the fog of
> > > his brain, he
> > > > tried to place where he had smelled this scent before.
> > > > "I'm glad you two are alright," Alice spoke quietly. "I
> > > can't believe this.
> > > > Do you need anything?"
> > > > "Thank you, but we're okay," Salma said warmly.
> > > > "Pete phoned me this morning-"
> > > > "Sheriff Jenkins? Why?" Ayden asked.
> > > > Alice didn't respond.
> > > > Waiting for an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower
> > > scent that had
> > > > lingered in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens.
> > > > "Alice, did you visit the house after we left you yesterday?" Alice
> > > > made a noise as though she were suppressing it in her
> > > throat. She
> > > > never answered and before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her
> > > > muffled footsteps on the grass as she walked briskly away. "Ayden?"
> > > > Salma puzzled. "Her perfume, it's the same smell I noticed in the
> > > > closet last night." "Ayden, that's where I found the letter too,"
> > > > Salma whispered." Ayden heard the swish of grass as someone else
> > > > walked towards
> > > them. It was
> > > > Nick.
> > > > "Are you crazy?" Nick asked, bewildered.
> > > > "I'm fine. Nice to see you too, Dad."
> > > > Nick let out a long breath before saying, "Your mother and I
> > > went crazy when
> > > > we heard what happened. We're glad you're okay."
> > > > "Is the house ruined?" Ayden asked.
> > > > Salma shifted and sat upright next to Ayden.
> > > > "It's mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > to the house."
> > > > Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy's
> > > favorite place.
> > > > Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall bushes
> > > as Lucy tended
> > > > to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his thoughts, Ayden
> > > heard a shuffling
> > > > footstep approach. Another memory pushed itself front and
> > > center in his
> > > > mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped his pace, Ayden gave him a
> > > hard look.
> > > > "Tom says it will take a few weeks to get reports back, but
> > > there is some
> > > > structural damage to the house, Nick," the sheriff said. "Taken any
> > > > midnight strolls to clear your mind lately?" Ayden
> > > directed to
> > > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > No one spoke. Salma gripped his hand.
> > > > "Any reason why you'd call Alice Whitley early this morning?" Ayden
> > > > continued. "Drop it," Nick hissed at Ayden.
> > > > Thrown off by Nick's tone, Ayden squeezed Salma's hand,
> > > unsure what to do.
> > > > "I'm sure we're all tired and need to collect our thoughts,"
> > > Sheriff Jenkins
> > > > said. "Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick." Ayden
> > > heard the
> > > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the
> > > speakers as
> > > > JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command
> > > Ayden typed.
> > > > "Still working?" Salma asked from behind.
> > > > Ayden leaned his head back against her stomach. She was
> > > wrapped in a large
> > > > soft towel. He slipped his hand through the folds, but she
> > > turned swiftly
> > > > away, laughing.
> > > > Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. "That
> > > just turns me on
> > > > more."
> > > > "I called you a great big moron whose brain is the size of his-"
> > > > "Doesn't matter. Still sounds sexy." Salma whipped another towel at
> > > > him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to his work, Ayden
> > > > decided to check his email. As he clicked on the necessary links using
> > >
> > > > Hotkey commands,
> > > he thought over
> > > > the past few weeks.
> > > > Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > everything was
> > > > circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > opened something
> > > > up. Something that had been meant to remain secret. Nick
> > > refused to open
> > > > any investigation and he remained tight-lipped about anything he knew.
> > >
> > > > The fire was officially reported as an unknown accident since
> > > no evidence,
> > > > either way, had been found determining a cause. This, at
> > > least, was how the
> > > > police report read. Ayden, though, had inquired into the fire-chief's
> > >
> > > > report. It too was inconclusive, but this report did mention
> > > that a match
> > > > book had been found near the premises. Salma had advised
> > > Ayden to wait
> > > > before attempting any further investigation.
> > > > Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks slip by without
> > >
> > > > searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > city, Ayden had
> > > > found the courage to express his budding feelings towards Salma. They
> > > > had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night for
> > > them, except
> > > > this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation between
> > > them. Salma had
> > > > stood to get another beer from the kitchen when Ayden reached
> > > for her wrist.
> > > > His large palm had felt bigger next to her slim wrist. Both
> > > had stared
> > > > silently at one another. Ayden, thinking he would win this
> > > game since he
> > > > couldn't see, broke first. Grinning with a smirk, he had
> > > pulled Salma to
> > > > him and kissed her.
> > > > Three weeks later, their routine was continued as normal, yet
> > > something was
> > > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with
> > > ease, as though
> > > > it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by
> > > the new romance.
> > > > Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given for
> > > the first
> > > > email he came across. Opening it up, he read the following: Your
> > > > journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you stop your
> > > > investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only
> > > befall you. Thank
> > > > your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new love. There
> > > > was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From
> > > field, but the only
> > > > information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > Ayden's pulse
> > > > quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room, he
> > > closed the
> > > > window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her just yet.
> > > > Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > Ayden knew this
> > > > was just the beginning.
> > > >
> > > > _______________________________________________
> > > > Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > >
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> > > > stylist:
> > > >
> > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/priscil
> > > la.mckinley%40gmail.com
> > > >
> > >
> > > _______________________________________________
> > > Writers Division web site:
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> > >
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> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 4
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 07:57:43 -0500
> > > From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
> > > To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > Message-ID: <000801cb66e8$65d00ad0$31702070$@cox.net>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"
> > >
> > > Bridget
> > >
> > > A good story! I like the blindness descriptors. And that scene and lines
> > > that you had Salma use while in the office of the sheriff,
> > > "At least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > this whole time," Salma snapped.
> > >
> > > And yeah, I read the comments of Priscilla and Joe and I can see that
> > > their observations would only enhance the story.
> > > Thanks for sharing!
> > >
> > >
> > > -----Original Message-----
> > > From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
> > > Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
> > > Sent: Thursday, October 07, 2010 9:06 PM
> > > To: writers division
> > > Subject: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > >
> > >
> > > Hey guys,
> > >
> > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote
> > > it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > >
> > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > >
> > > Bridgit P
> > >
> > > Sense of Murder
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in his father's leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed by
> > > his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had been
> > > murdered. Ayden's father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > incident after reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > about Henry's death either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to
> > > search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure what happened.
> > > Lucy, Ayden's grandmother, had been present too when Henry's body was
> > > found. The police recorded the death as an accidental fall. Many
> > > silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy had grown distraught
> > > during the past few months before Henry's death. Friends and family
> > > reported that she had been distracted often or in an irritated mood.
> > > This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother Ayden had grown up with.
> > > When Nick found his father's body, Lucy had gone wild, screaming, unable
> > > to leave Henry's lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a care
> > > home. Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too had
> > > passed. Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy,
> > > they said. She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > what a small town needed. The police never looked into the possibility,
> > > but Lucy died with a scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could
> > > never believe that Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden,
> > > guiding him, encouraging him. "You're so full of potential, Ayden. I
> > > can see fire in your eyes," she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his
> > > vision, Lucy had been the one person who supported him, still
> > > encouraging. For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play,
> > > but no one ever spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the
> > > closest anyone came to mentioning "murder." Ayden, though, had never
> > > played by the rules. His mother referred to him as the "black sheep of
> > > the family" whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he
> > > fit in his family's world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country
> > > clubs and preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He
> > > had already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident
> > > left him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father had
> > > been clear when saying, "This condition of yours is not suitable for the
> > > courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for research,
> > > perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable." Ayden was not
> > > able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After completing his
> > > bachelor's in literature, Ayden took up a career writing for any
> > > newspapers or journals that accepted his entries. Writing for a small
> > > literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had turned
> > > into a fictionalized account of his grandfather's death. Asking his
> > > father for any information about his grandfather's life, was the reason
> > > Ayden now sat in his father's study. He found more, he thought, than
> > > his father knew about though. "So what's next?" Salma asked. Salma
> > > lived across the hall from Ayden in his building. They had become
> > > friends, and Salma now was helping him research his grandfather's life.
> > > Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden said, "I'm not sure. This letter
> > > says a lot." Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > evidence, even if circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it,
> > > she could have killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled
> > > before Salma spoke. "It's pretty clear from this letter that your
> > > grandfather was having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these
> > > initials, A. W." Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone
> > > he had ever met with A. W. for initials. "I don't know," he sighed. As
> > > Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found an old
> > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > the third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping
> > > the gift, then exclaimed, "Oh," before looking up with tears in her
> > > eyes. Wuthering Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had
> > > been the one person to encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up
> > > writing instead of joining the family law firm. "You're meant to follow
> > > your own path," Lucy had told Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and
> > > Salma found a letter enclosed in the pages of the book. Ayden touched
> > > the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to Salma to inspect.
> > > She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as the book. A few
> > > of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The letter was
> > > simple as she read:
> > > Henry, my love,
> > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming down
> > > the road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer
> > > must we wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too
> > > late.
> > > Love, A. W.
> > > "What now? Where do we go next?" Salma asked.
> > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. "We visit the old
> > > Templeton mansion." The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry
> > > and Lucy had lived in for years. The family still owned it, but it had
> > > sat empty for years. Ayden thought that maybe more secrets were hidden
> > > within the walls of the Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden's fingers
> > > slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden
> > > really didn't know much about his family's past. Lucy and Henry had
> > > moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but Ayden
> > > had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable to cope
> > > with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the City, and
> > > Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now for ten
> > > years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. "Are we there?"
> > > "Yes. What's our first stop?" "I'm figuring this out as we go along.
> > > I guess the police station." Salma was silent before saying, "You okay?
> > > I know your dad wasn't happy." Ayden had questioned his father about the
> > > letter, but Nick had gone quiet and cold before telling Ayden, "Leave it
> > > alone. We don't dig up family history." Ayden tried to coax Nick to say
> > > more, but the subject was closed. "Yeah. I wish he would have told us
> > > more. Explained something," Ayden said. "Maybe he just wants to keep
> > > your family secrets, well, secret. Some people don't like giving out
> > > info about anything." "I just feel like he knows more than he's letting
> > > on. Mom just played dumb too." "We'll find something. Don't worry."
> > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > life. The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day, knocking
> > > on his door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home made
> > > enchiladas. That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had
> > > spent many nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on
> > > weekends. Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world.
> > > Once moving away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > showed up to the office for work, attended cocktail parties required for
> > > work and even dated a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he
> > > truly felt comfortable with. Her infectious way of always looking at
> > > things positively seemed like a novelty to Ayden. She could always make
> > > him smile. When he began writing the book about Henry, Salma had
> > > offered to assist in anyway she could. "I'm really glad you're here,"
> > > Ayden said.
> > >
> > > "Yeah, yeah. I'm waiting for my pay check." Salma giggled as she
> > > pulled into a parking stall. "I think we're here." While Salma dropped
> > > coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the brick
> > > walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his cane
> > > tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. "No Braille, is this it?" he
> > > shouted back to Salma. "I believe so," she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the police
> > > station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one pressed
> > > keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > thought, must be a reception desk. Stepping up to a smooth feeling
> > > counter, Ayden said, "Excuse me." "Can I help you?" a woman's bored
> > > voice said. "We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked
> > > the Henry Templeton case," Ayden said. The woman stopped typing and a
> > > long silence followed. "Who's asking?" "I'm Ayden Templeton, Henry's
> > > grandson." "One minute." A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > clacked as she walked away. Salma touched Ayden's arm. "She had a weird
> > > look when you mentioned your grandpa's name." Ayden said nothing, not
> > > sure what he was doing there in the first place. The woman's shoes
> > > clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep joined hers, but
> > > this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled towards Salma,
> > > saying, "Hello. I'm Sheriff Jenkins. How can I help you?" Ayden stepped
> > > closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff Jenkins. "I'm Ayden
> > > Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions about my
> > > grandfather's death." There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook
> > > Ayden's hand. "Step into my office please." Ayden followed the sheriff
> > > into a room off the main section of the department. His cane swep the
> > > inside of the door frame, indicating the width so Ayden avoided bumping
> > > into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked where a chair was and turned
> > > in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated. Once again, his cane found
> > > the chair and sliding the cane across the seat, Ayden determined where
> > > the front of the chair was. Salma's arm brushed his as she sat next to
> > > him. "Can I get you anything?" Sheriff Jenkins asked. "No, but thank
> > > you. Salma?" "I'm good," Salma replied. Ayden felt a tension fill the
> > > room as the three sat there, not speaking. Sheriff Jenkins began tapping
> > > the edge of the metal table in the interrogation room. Ayden twisted
> > > his cane between his fingers. Salma bobbed her foot which was lightly
> > > kicking Ayden's shin. "We're hoping to learn as much as we can about
> > > Henry Templeton's death. I'm researching the story for a novel I'm
> > > working on," Ayden started. "I worked the case. There's not much to
> > > tell," Sheriff Jenkins said. "I know you eventually reported it as an
> > > accidental death, but was there ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?"
> > > Ayden asked. "No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > reason to believe Henry Templeton was murdered," Sheriff Jenkins said
> > > sharply. Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, "I know
> > > there was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it." "Lucy
> > > Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she married
> > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted." Ayden leaned against the
> > > table looking straight in the direction where Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I
> > > thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer from a wealthy family."
> > > "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed." "Who did you question
> > > about his death?" Salma broke in. The sheriff's chair creaked as he
> > > leaned back. "Well, of course Lucy and her boy Nick. They were there.
> > > Found his body and all." Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance.
> > > He was talking like he had forgot who Ayden was. "Then there was Zelda,
> > > the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came around about once a week to
> > > help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden. Her roses won prizes
> > > around here," Sheriff Jenkins continued. "Anyone else?" Ayden asked.
> > > "Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn't see much
> > > of him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > years. She still did stuff part-time for Henry." Ayden had pulled out a
> > > three-by-five plastic device that had six rows of cells containing three
> > > holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop sound was made as Ayden
> > > poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus through the holes as he
> > > took Braille notes. "Are any of these people still around?" "Not
> > > everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton's to leave town.
> > > Other than Henry's work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > around here. At least the one's who are still alive." "Is there
> > > anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange you noticed?
> > > Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental tumble down
> > > the stairs?" The sheriff laughed. "I know you city folk like to dream
> > > up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton's death was
> > > nothing more than an accident. Nothing dark about it." "Thank you for
> > > your time," Ayden said extending his hand again to shake Sheriff
> > > Jenkins's. Sheriff Jenkins sighed. "Look, don't go digging anything up.
> > > Just let the dead rest." Salma's bracelet tinkled as they stood. "We
> > > understand. I'm just trying to find things out about my grandfather for
> > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered," Ayden said. "Are you two
> > > married?" Sheriff Jenkins asked. Ayden, confused by the switch, replied,
> > > "No." The sheriff chuckled. "Like your grandpa, I see." Ayden blushed,
> > > but Salma said, "Ayden is nothing but a gentleman. Clearly something he
> > > did not pick up in this town." "I know the kind of men the Templeton's
> > > are," the sheriff said. Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. "At
> > > least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > this whole time," Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > rush of breeze as she left the room.
> > >
> > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."
> > > "It's okay. He was a pig."
> > > "I didn't realize-"
> > > "I know, its okay. Where to next?"
> > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. "The house, I
> > > guess." As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > > he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > > Salma.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > > always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a
> > > large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > majestically towards the sky.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > > the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the porch,
> > > he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of falling
> > > through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly drove down
> > > the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It was as
> > > though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the distant
> > > sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma
> > > stood next to him. "How does it look?" Ayden asked ignoring the scent.
> > > Salma took a deep breath. "It's run down, that's for sure. I can't
> > > believe no one has lived here for years." "My family still owns it, but
> > > after my grandfather's death, no one wanted to do anything about it."
> > > Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated Victorian
> > > house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his
> > > father's office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet click
> > > was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in Salma's
> > > direction before stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house engulfed
> > > all sound like a tomb. "Creepy," Salma said as she shivered. Ayden
> > > walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to not run
> > > into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he inhaled.
> > > "This has been sitting for years," Ayden rasped. "What's it look like?"
> > > Salma looked around. "It's really dark, but it's almost completely
> > > empty. What do you think you'll find?" "I'm not sure. Sheriff Jenkins
> > > wasn't much help. I just thought, maybe something." Salma's sandals
> > > clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open it. "Well, if we
> > > are going to be here long we need fresh air." Ayden felt a rush of
> > > summer breeze as the window clambered up. The sound of kids jumping
> > > rope ruined the house's stolid silence. Life entered the house again as
> > > Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma clumped up the
> > > stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling walls and any remaining
> > > furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He rifled through
> > > drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust and
> > > cobwebs. "Ayden, Ayden!" Salma shouted a couple of hours later. Ayden
> > > hurried towards the staircase. "Salma! Are you okay?" "Get up here! I
> > > found something!" Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the
> > > top, he shouted, "What room?" "Um, it's a bedroom." Hearing her voice
> > > off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At the end, he found a
> > > door open. "Salma?" Salma's clapping sandals moved towards Ayden. "Look
> > > at this," she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper crackled
> > > as she shoved something in Ayden's hand. Ayden grinned. "Um." He
> > > handed the paper back to Salma. "Oh-sorry. I just-you won't believe
> > > this." It was another letter; a love letter to Henry. Henry, My love, I
> > > miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > with you, really be with you. Let's stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > Don't be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop
> > > hiding. There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > don't take long. Love,
> > > A. W.
> > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > quite sure what her excitement was for. "We already know Henry was
> > > having an affair of sorts," he said. Salma sighed impatiently. "Ayden,
> > > think about it. Don't you see?" "Not really," he said slowly. She
> > > grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a strength
> > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > Ayden took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > with it. Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing him
> > > back to attention. "Ayden, A. W. Don't you see it yet?" "A. W.?" "The
> > > initials," she said exasperated, "A. W. Alice Whitley." "Who's Alice
> > > Whitley?" Salma smacked her forehead. "Ay-where are your notes from
> > > today?" Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back
> > > pocket. "Now read through it," Salma said as though talking to a small
> > > child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up
> > > at Salma. "See?" Salma asked. "I can't believe we didn't realize it
> > > then. His secretary. And Sheriff Jenkins said she's still living in
> > > town." "Think we can find her?" "Give me a minute," Ayden said reaching
> > > for his mobile phone tucked away in his pocket. An electronic hum came
> > > from his phone as he maneuvered through the menus on his phone. A
> > > screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped Ayden utilize
> > > the functions on his phone. "Got it. There's only one Alice Whitley
> > > that shows up in town." "Thank God for technology," Salma said. "No
> > > wonder no one could ever solve this case." Ayden smirked at her. "Thank
> > > God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn't live far from here
> > > and it's not too late."
> > >
> > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman's voice
> > > gasped, "Oh." "Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-" "Templeton," she said. "You
> > > look like Henry." Smiling, Ayden said, "Miss Whitley, this is my friend
> > > Salma. We're working on a book about my grandfather, and we would like
> > > to ask you some questions." "Oh, of course. Come in, come in." As the
> > > door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent that he
> > > couldn't place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > into a sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the
> > > soft couch while Alice sat across from them. "Can I offer you anything?
> > > I just made lemonade." "That would be wonderful," Salma said. As Alice
> > > left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. "I'm sorry, I didn't even
> > > think to ask if you were hungry." "Hon, it's okay. I didn't think about
> > > it myself until now." "We'll have dinner after this; I promise."
> > > "Promise?" Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > glass in Ayden's hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp.
> > > The cold liquid felt good down his throat after the dust of his family's
> > > house. He could only imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt
> > > the mingled grime of sweat and dirt on his body. Why had it not
> > > occurred to them to stop somewhere first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > "So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss him.
> > > You must call me Alice." "Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in
> > > his death," Ayden said. Alice choked on her lemonade. "Why would you be
> > > interested in that?" "I believe that maybe his death wasn't accidental."
> > > "Oh dear, don't buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at." "And yet
> > > the rumors persist," Ayden said. "Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > there minds." "You know Sheriff Jenkins?" Ayden asked. "Darling, it's a
> > > town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody." Ayden sipped on his
> > > lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the side of her glass. "We
> > > have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story," Ayden said. He
> > > affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like this
> > > hundreds of times. Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her
> > > voice had lost some of its cheeriness when she responded by asking,
> > > "What makes you say that?" Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He
> > > removed the Braille label, setting the letter on the coffee table
> > > dividing Ayden and Salma from Alice. The room grew still. The letter
> > > rustled as Alice picked it up. When she spoke, she sounded choked as
> > > though she were holding back tears. "Where did you find this?" "It was
> > > in some old boxes in the Templeton home," Salma said. A long silence
> > > followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling. "I suppose the truth
> > > has to come out sooner or later," Alice said quietly. "We don't
> > > need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think Henry was
> > > killed?" Ayden soothed. "Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,"
> > > Alice began, ignoring Ayden. "I instantly fell in love with him, but he
> > > was that type. Dashingly handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few
> > > years older than me, but I knew how all the girls waited for their
> > > chance to rope Henry into marriage. I felt so lucky to see him
> > > everyday. I started out as a simple receptionist, but eventually he
> > > promoted me to his personal secretary." "Did you move with my
> > > grandparents then, when they moved?" Ayden asked. Alice sighed. "Yes,
> > > but after-things happened-I moved back. I remained in his employ,
> > > working from the office here in town. Before your father took charge,
> > > Henry's headquarters had always been based from here." Ayden nodded his
> > > head. "I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us
> > > both, Lucy and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > up with that smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I
> > > should've known better, but I was in love." Alice continued to spill her
> > > story, hoping for redemption perhaps. "The final straw came right before
> > > his death. We had carried on for almost forty-years and I knew it had
> > > to stop. We fought. I threatened to tell Lucy and that was that. He
> > > left me promising to choose. I waited for an answer, but a week later,
> > > Henry was found dead." "Did you ever tell anyone?" Ayden asked. "No."
> > >
> > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice's house. A breeze
> > > tousled Ayden's hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > dark tresses. "Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible," she
> > > said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He
> > > slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. "You promised me dinner,"
> > > Salma whined playfully.
> > >
> > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma found
> > > themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up with
> > > Ayden's stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. "Sometimes I
> > > think it would be nice to live in a small town," Salma mused. "Really,
> > > you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day," Ayden joked. "I could
> > > drive to the city. I don't know. It seems like a nice place to raise a
> > > family." Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > learn about Salma. "Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow
> > > up to cheat, lie and murder," Ayden scoffed. "We, huh?" Ayden blushed,
> > > feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He hadn't caught his
> > > blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of his words,
> > > Salma grabbed his hand. "Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,"
> > > she said. They walked silently back to the car. "It's pretty late, what
> > > should we do?" Salma asked. Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch
> > > up. Feeling the raised dots and arrows with his pointer finger on his
> > > Braille watch, he said, "It's a quarter to eleven. I'm beat." "Me too.
> > > I don't really feel like driving back tonight though." Ayden scratched
> > > his head. "I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton." "Okay, but no
> > > funny business," Salma joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, "By the
> > > way, unlike some men in my family, I'm more of a one-woman type."
> > >
> > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > "Sure you don't want to sleep in another room?" Ayden asked. "Hell no!
> > > This house is creepy." "I thought you wanted to raise children here?"
> > > "Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?" The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > down on it. "A bit musty." They had found spare bed linens in a box and
> > > had attempted to shake them out as best they could. Ayden had noticed a
> > > lingering wispy scent of flowers that he could not place. It may have
> > > been the remnants of something used to launder the linens years ago, he
> > > had thought. Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > Salma. "Here. You can wrap your pillow in it." "Thanks," Salma said
> > > drawing the word out. Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for
> > > the millionth time that day. Not able to turn back what he had done,
> > > Ayden lay slowly down, sticking close to the edge. "Keep your hands
> > > above the blankets," Salma yawned.
> > >
> > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as he
> > > felt Salma's small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and
> > > Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself gently
> > > from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the bathroom,
> > > but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working order. It
> > > was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he found his way
> > > downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no neighbors were awake
> > > to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep still, his eyes snapped
> > > open as a slight shuffle came from behind him. Finished with his
> > > midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound came again. He
> > > turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. "Hello," he said. No
> > > response came. He turned back towards the house and as he walked, Ayden
> > > felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult now, he
> > > chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house, he
> > > reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > doorway again. The noise instantly stopped. Slamming the door and
> > > locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking three steps at a time.
> > > Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden felt a cool breeze cut
> > > through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he swore to himself.
> > > They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air out their
> > > lodgings for the night. Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
> > > He sat on the bed resting his head on the large carved headboard,
> > > listening. Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > trees from time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed
> > > around the house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a
> > > step on the stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > of vigilante guarding. Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his
> > > head, he smiled when Salma threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only
> > > of Salma by now, Ayden drifted back off to sleep.
> > >
> > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > > odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. "Salma!
> > > There's a fire!" He shook her until she woke up. "We need to get out of
> > > here," Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state. Ayden
> > > flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made his eyes water.
> > > "Salma, I can't tell if we can make it down the stairs." Standing next
> > > to him, she said, "All I can see is smoke. Can we jump out the window?"
> > > "We're on the second floor. It's pretty high up." Now across the room,
> > > Ayden heard Salma cry, "Oh-my-god! Ayden!" "What?" "I can see flames
> > > around the base of the house." "Shit." Trying to think, Ayden gathered
> > > up the sheet from the bed. Dousing it with water from the couple
> > > bottles purchased last night, he threw the sheet at Salma. "Wrap
> > > yourself in this." "Why?" "Just do it." Making sure her long hair was
> > > covered, Ayden threw Salma over his shoulder. Grabbing his cane by the
> > > door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the shirt tied around his face
> > > would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the stairs. Despite the
> > > situation, Ayden could not help notice the harlequin-romance-like
> > > predicament. He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and
> > > he could not understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > groped the banister which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the
> > > bottom, he found his way to the front door and opened it. A rush of
> > > fresh air greeted him. Feeling heat, he hoped he could make it off the
> > > porch. At the top of the stairs, panicked, he placed Salma upright
> > > again. She struggled to loosen the sheet around her. "Are the flames
> > > here too?" Ayden asked. "No, but there coming from behind." At the end
> > > of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors could be heard
> > > coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma asking if
> > > they were okay. Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of
> > > flames. Salma held his hand as they waited in silence for the sound of
> > > sirens.
> > >
> > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins's police cruiser.
> > > The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket draped
> > > his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could still
> > > smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had extinguished
> > > the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about Ayden's age, drove
> > > Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a report before Nick
> > > was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her head against his
> > > shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden
> > > protectively placed an arm around her. "Ayden," Salma said in quiet
> > > surprise, "Alice Whitley is here." Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he
> > > waited for Alice to approach. A new scent filled his nostrils. This
> > > too smelled of flowers, but it was not the framiliar jasmine and vanilla
> > > Salma wore. Through the fog of his brain, he tried to place where he
> > > had smelled this scent before. "I'm glad you two are alright," Alice
> > > spoke quietly. "I can't believe this. Do you need anything?" "Thank
> > > you, but we're okay," Salma said warmly. "Pete phoned me this morning-"
> > > "Sheriff Jenkins? Why?" Ayden asked. Alice didn't respond. Waiting for
> > > an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that had lingered
> > > in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens. "Alice, did you
> > > visit the house after we left you yesterday?" Alice made a noise as
> > > though she were suppressing it in her throat. She never answered and
> > > before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her muffled footsteps on
> > > the grass as she walked briskly away. "Ayden?" Salma puzzled. "Her
> > > perfume, it's the same smell I noticed in the closet last night."
> > > "Ayden, that's where I found the letter too," Salma whispered." Ayden
> > > heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them. It was
> > > Nick. "Are you crazy?" Nick asked, bewildered. "I'm fine. Nice to see
> > > you too, Dad." Nick let out a long breath before saying, "Your mother
> > > and I went crazy when we heard what happened. We're glad you're okay."
> > > "Is the house ruined?" Ayden asked. Salma shifted and sat upright next
> > > to Ayden. "It's mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > to the house." Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy's
> > > favorite place. Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall
> > > bushes as Lucy tended to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his
> > > thoughts, Ayden heard a shuffling footstep approach. Another memory
> > > pushed itself front and center in his mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped
> > > his pace, Ayden gave him a hard look. "Tom says it will take a few weeks
> > > to get reports back, but there is some structural damage to the house,
> > > Nick," the sheriff said. "Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind
> > > lately?" Ayden directed to Sheriff Jenkins. No one spoke. Salma gripped
> > > his hand. "Any reason why you'd call Alice Whitley early this morning?"
> > > Ayden continued. "Drop it," Nick hissed at Ayden. Thrown off by Nick's
> > > tone, Ayden squeezed Salma's hand, unsure what to do. "I'm sure we're
> > > all tired and need to collect our thoughts," Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > "Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick." Ayden heard the
> > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > >
> > >
> > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers as
> > > JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > > typed. "Still working?" Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > > back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. "That
> > > just turns me on more." "I called you a great big moron whose brain is
> > > the size of his-" "Doesn't matter. Still sounds sexy." Salma whipped
> > > another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to
> > > his work, Ayden decided to check his email. As he clicked on the
> > > necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought over the past few
> > > weeks. Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > everything was circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > opened something up. Something that had been meant to remain secret.
> > > Nick refused to open any investigation and he remained tight-lipped
> > > about anything he knew. The fire was officially reported as an unknown
> > > accident since no evidence, either way, had been found determining a
> > > cause. This, at least, was how the police report read. Ayden, though,
> > > had inquired into the fire-chief's report. It too was inconclusive, but
> > > this report did mention that a match book had been found near the
> > > premises. Salma had advised Ayden to wait before attempting any further
> > > investigation. Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks
> > > slip by without searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > city, Ayden had found the courage to express his budding feelings
> > > towards Salma. They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night
> > > for them, except this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation
> > > between them. Salma had stood to get another beer from the kitchen when
> > > Ayden reached for her wrist. His large palm had felt bigger next to her
> > > slim wrist. Both had stared silently at one another. Ayden, thinking
> > > he would win this game since he couldn't see, broke first. Grinning
> > > with a smirk, he had pulled Salma to him and kissed her. Three weeks
> > > later, their routine was continued as normal, yet something was
> > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > though it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the
> > > new romance. Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given
> > > for the first email he came across. Opening it up, he read the
> > > following: Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you
> > > stop your investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall
> > > you. Thank your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new
> > > love. There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field,
> > > but the only information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > Ayden's pulse quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room,
> > > he closed the window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her
> > > just yet. Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > Ayden knew this was just the beginning.
> > >
> > > _______________________________________________
> > > Writers Division web site:
> > > http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > >
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> > > stylist at nfbnet.org
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> > > To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> > > stylist:
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> > > net
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 5
> > > Date: Fri, 08 Oct 2010 09:27:43 -0500
> > > From: BDM <lists at braddunsemusic.com>
> > > To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > Message-ID: <6.2.3.4.2.20101008081531.02bc0150 at www.braddunsemusic.com>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
> > >
> > > I'm enjoying this story. Below are some notes as I read...
> > >
> > > Conflicting feeling/message:
> > > ...That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > > nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > > Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world. Once
> > > moving away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > showed up to the office for work, attended cocktail parties required for
> > > work and even dated a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he
> > > truly felt comfortable with...
> > >
> > > BD: It sounds like he had all kinds of connections to the outside
> > > world to me here. Work, dates, business parties. Not the image of a
> > > recluse in my view.
> > >
> > > Blindness accessibility commentary:
> > >
> > > ...his cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door.
> > > "No Braille, is this it?" he shouted back to Salma...
> > >
> > > BD: If a sighted reader was reading they actually might not get this
> > > without spoon feeding... 'He slid his hand along the door
> > > jamb/front/address plate/whatever..."no Braille...'"
> > > instead of just "no Braille". But it sort of stood out as a jab or
> > > inside perspective at there aren't Braille on many doors which to me
> > > seemed unnecessary in this context.
> > >
> > > Travel descriptions: Again if this is meant for general consumption
> > > the "inside baseball" descriptions of the travel motions seem to
> > > stand out of place to me. For example...
> > >
> > > Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame, indicating the
> > > width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked
> > > where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated.
> > > Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane across the
> > > seat, Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma's arm
> > > brushed his
> > >
> > > BD: However I think the below example is very natural...
> > >
> > > ...interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his fingers.
> > > Salma bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden's shin.
> > >
> > > BD: I will say if this book is targeting blind readers then the
> > > travel discriptions are probably more appreciated in the storyline.
> > > These aren't story killers by anymeans but I'm just looking at a real
> > > good story here and looking how it might be better from a general
> > > readers perspective.
> > >
> > > Dialog confusion:
> > >
> > > Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer
> > > from a wealthy family." "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > "Who did you question about his death?" Salma broke in.
> > >
> > > BD: I was confused who said what about the catch and playboy. I
> > > assume its the Sherriff but the dialog was set up as if it were
> > > Ayden stating it.
> > >
> > > slate and Stylist: I think the description of the slate and stylist
> > > is a good thing in that showing how he's noting stuff but not sure
> > > a sighted person will understand the "cells" part. Perhaps describing
> > > it as a series of rectangular holes with indents underneath similar
> > > to the number six on a dice. I don't know it would be easy to go too
> > > far in description here.
> > >
> > > Sarcasm or not?: At this part...
> > >
> > > his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped
> > > Ayden utilize the functions on his phone. "Got it. There's only one
> > > Alice Whitley that shows up in town." "Thank God for technology," Salma
> > > said. "No wonder no one could ever solve this case." Ayden smirked at
> > > her. "Thank God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn't live
> > > far from here and it's not too late."
> > >
> > > BD: I was confused at the "No wonder no one could ever solve this case"
> > > comment. Was it sarcasm of some sort or a plug for
> > > technology? The Sherriff admited this was a small town, and in small
> > > towns everyone knows everyone who is around so while Ayden would
> > > need technology, the locals wouldn't need it to find Ms Whitley
> > > or solve the case. So I was just a bit baffled there.
> > >
> > > Conversation reality: At...
> > >
> > > "Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-"
> > > "Templeton," she said. "You look like Henry."
> > >
> > > BD: I doubt a stranger would tell another they looked like someone
> > > right out of the gate like that. Even if she thoght it, and perhaps
> > > that ought be what is said here to add to the mysteriousness of the
> > > story, but even if she thought it, I doubt she'd say it out loud.
> > >
> > > Love growing: I like the flirty playfulness of Ayden and Salma but it
> > > seemed to move pretty fast from the apparent long friendship they had
> > > going, granted this is a short story so things might need to move
> > > along but love stories/flirting likes tensionand release subtlies and
> > > it just seemed to move a bit fast... sort of like gulping a chunk of
> > > chocolate without savoring it :). . I got the impression they were
> > > living together when he was at the computer and she wore a towel
> > > behind him then slipped off to the bedroom. Maybe just a little
> > > clarity. I wondered whose place they were in, why was she in a towl
> > > in the first place. But I did like the playfulness of the scene.
> > >
> > > Overall I really like this story. I'm intrigued how the puzzle pieces
> > > are going to fit. There are lots of mysteries at once with all the
> > > characters, very nice writing IMO.
> > >
> > > Are you going to or had you finished the mystery?
> > >
> > > Brad
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > con
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 6
> > > Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 12:19:43 -0400
> > > From: "Pat Harmon" <pharmon222 at comcast.net>
> > > To: "Jennifer Harmon" <jennifer.harmon at SourceMedia.com>
> > > Cc: NFBnet Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: [stylist] no more mystery
> > > Message-ID: <000a01cb6704$9e652530$bab15144 at default3gx6vng>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
> > >
> > > I went to bed with the "pewter" on my mind, although it did not cost me
> > > any sleep. Foolish not to look below. There is was, the little figures
> > > I love. Memories are endless.
> > >
> > > Perhaps the housecleaners moved them. I don't know. They are best on
> > > display. I thought maybe they were in your apartment, but I had no
> > > recollection of that. My mind creates tales.
> > >
> > > Now, I am searching for breadcrumbs. Eleanor gave me a recipe for
> > > cauliflower. It was out on the counter, and it is the biggest I've ever
> > > bought.
> > >
> > > I am hoping to hear from the newest Grandma I know! I might have a ride
> > > to Mahwah occasionally. A fellow Lion has a daughter there. Maybe that
> > > could work out.
> > >
> > > Ah, luck shall be with me for new flooring tomorrow. Then, I must walk
> > > gingerly across it
> > >
> > > Did I pay for your latest hairdo? There was a bill and the name had
> > > something to do with coiffures. It was two hundred or so.
> > >
> > > How Do you spell pewter anyway? I'm feeling spelling impaired!
> > >
> > > Smile, Hobo! It is Fabulous Frrivolous fantastic fine foolish fortunate
> > > Friday!!
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > _______________________________________________
> > > stylist mailing list
> > > stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > >
> > >
> > > End of stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 5
> > > **************************************
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
> > > Message: 3
> > > Date: Fri, 08 Oct 2010 19:41:00 -0500
> > > From: BDM <lists at braddunsemusic.com>
> > > To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > Subject: Re: [stylist] Sense of murder
> > > Message-ID: <6.2.3.4.2.20101008193333.02b91d30 at www.braddunsemusic.com>
> > > Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
> > >
> > > Bridget
> > >
> > > No worries, I think the story is good, just some points that
> > > personally to me as a general reader, technically correct or
> > > not, tossed me compared to the many books I've read and thought to
> > > offer them. I'm probably the odd man out on these so take them for
> > > what they are in comparison what you get from a non-subjective or
> > > overtly supportive evaluator. :).
> > >
> > > Brad
> > >
> > >
> > > Brad
> > >
> > >
> > > At 04:01 PM 10/8/2010, you wrote:
> > > >Brad,
> > > >
> > > >To address some of your points:
> > > >
> > > >Ayden is a recluse in that he does not develop intimate relationships
> > > >with people until meeting Salma. He goes through the motions, but
> > > >never emotionally or mentally connects with anyone. Salma provides a
> > > >deeper friendship than he has cultivated so far.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden begins by tapping along the brick building which sounds
> > > >differently from tapping against the glass door. This is a description
> > > >of how we use a cane. No one sighted who has read this was confused by
> > > >it. If writing for a blind audience only, it would not make sense, to
> > > >me, to include these descriptions at all since we know how we do
> > > >things. On the other hand, having an audience who may not have
> > > >exposure to blind people and/or their skills, they would wonder how a
> > > >blind character does certain things. We all know how people have simple
> > > >questions for us so it seems like these descriptions would be more
> > > >appreciated by those who do not know how a blind person acts or thinks.
> > > >Plus, making Ayden blind (which he was not originally) readers will need
> > > >to know certain things. Like I can't just sit my blind character at a
> > > >computer and expect some people to understand this.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden leaned across the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch. You know, a lawyer
> > > >from a wealthy family."
> > > >"He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > >Eache of these is its own para. When action is included with dialogue
> > > >in a para, it is attached to the speaker. Since the first para begins
> > > >with Ayden, the following dialogue is attached to Ayden.
> > > >
> > > >Again, so far sighted readers have appreciated the descriptions dealing
> > > >with things specific to blind people. Most people have no idea what a
> > > >slate and stylus is even when looking at one. It makes sense, to me,
> > > >to give a brief description of visually what it looks like while at the
> > > >same time explaining how one uses it.
> > > >
> > > >Salma's comment about figuring out the case without technology is
> > > >clearly sarcasm. During this whole portion of dialogue, Salma is
> > > >reaching impatience with Ayden for not picking things up quick enough.
> > > >She shows her playful side so this comment does not seem to fit into the
> > > >serious considering her attitude with everything else. Also, it is
> > > >common knowledge that people use to conduct life without all the
> > > >technology we have now, so I assumed readers would get it. And the
> > > >following "Ayden smirked at her," kind of gives one a clue that they are
> > > >joking with one another. Accessible is in italics which means Ayden is
> > > >stressing the word playing along with Salma's sarcasm.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden and Salma are not from this small town. There are numerous places
> > > >throughout where they talk about being from a city and Ayden mentions
> > > >not having visited here often. Regardless, people in a town of 10,000
> > > >still use phone books and the like to look up contact info.
> > > >
> > > >Alice was in love with Henry and he died before they could resolve their
> > > >relationship. When she sees Ayden, who looks just like Henry, she is
> > > >presumably thrown off guard and utters this before she knows what she
> > > >is doing.
> > > >It does not seem that unnusual for a person to remark on the uncanny
> > > >resemblence a person might bear to some one else they knew. People
> > > >constantly come up to my sister to tell her that her daughter is the
> > > >spitting image of her.
> > > >
> > > >I established early on that Salm and Ayden live across the hall from one
> > > >another. I did not clarify the point that they were or were not living
> > > >together, but I do make it clear that they are dating.
> > > >So far, a lot of people have enjoyed this aspect of the story since
> > > >Henry was a bit of a cad. Sort of a redemptive quality in a sense.
> > > >I wanted their relationship to happen quickly. They are in this
> > > >situation together and subconscience feelings begin to rise to the
> > > >surface. Most mysteries include a love element anyway.
> > > >FYI, my husband and mine's relationship happened quickly like this.
> > > >*smile*
> > > >
> > > >First, no this is not a conclusion, but I purposefully meant to place
> > > >suspicion on Alice, Henry's lover, Sheriff Jenkins and Nick, Ayden's
> > > >father. It is clear in the end that Ayden is not done looking into
> > > >Henry's death, but it takes a reprieve. Plus, Ayden is not a detective
> > > >so he may not have the same obsession to finish a case especially if he
> > > >felt he knew some of the answers.
> > > >
> > > >I probably won't continue this story since I merely wrote it for a
> > > >class, but Ayden is a character I have been working on for a couple of
> > > >years. I may deal with him again, but not in the context of a mystery.
> > > >I'm too focused on non-fiction right now to develop a fiction
> > > >unfortunately.
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit
> > > >
> > > >-----Original Message-----
> > > >From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
> > > >Behalf Of stylist-request at nfbnet.org
> > > >Sent: Friday, October 08, 2010 12:00 PM
> > > >To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > >Subject: stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 5
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Send stylist mailing list submissions to
> > > > stylist at nfbnet.org
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> > > >or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to
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> > > >When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific than
> > > >"Re: Contents of stylist digest..."
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Today's Topics:
> > > >
> > > > 1. detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > > alludes to sexual content (Bridgit Pollpeter)
> > > > 2. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > > alludes to sexual content (Priscilla McKinley)
> > > > 3. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > >language,
> > > > alludes to sexual content (Joe Orozco)
> > > > 4. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > >language,
> > > > alludes to sexual content (Robert Leslie Newman)
> > > > 5. Re: detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some language,
> > > > alludes to sexual content (BDM)
> > > > 6. no more mystery (Pat Harmon)
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >----------------------------------------------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 1
> > > >Date: Thu, 7 Oct 2010 21:05:39 -0500
> > > >From: Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
> > > >To: writers division <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >Message-ID: <SNT136-w5394EB83769ED4F1912F90C4500 at phx.gbl>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset="Windows-1252"
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Hey guys,
> > > >
> > > >I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > >credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > >mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote
> > > >it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > > >
> > > >It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit P
> > > >
> > > >Sense of Murder
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in his father?s leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > >between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed by
> > > >his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > >rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > >researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > >writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had been
> > > >murdered. Ayden?s father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > >at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > >incident after reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > >about Henry?s death either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to
> > > >search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure what happened.
> > > >Lucy, Ayden?s grandmother, had been present too when Henry?s body was
> > > >found. The police recorded the death as an accidental fall. Many
> > > >silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy had grown distraught
> > > >during the past few months before Henry?s death. Friends and family
> > > >reported that she had been distracted often or in an irritated mood.
> > > >This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother Ayden had grown up with.
> > > >When Nick found his father?s body, Lucy had gone wild, screaming, unable
> > > >to leave Henry?s lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a care
> > > >home. Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too had
> > > >passed. Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy,
> > > >they said. She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > >what a small town needed. The police never looked into the possibility,
> > > >but Lucy died with a scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could
> > > >never believe that Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden,
> > > >guiding him, encouraging him. ?You?re so full of potential, Ayden. I
> > > >can see fire in your eyes,? she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his
> > > >vision, Lucy had been the one person who supported him, still
> > > >encouraging. For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play,
> > > >but no one ever spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the
> > > >closest anyone came to mentioning ?murder.? Ayden, though, had never
> > > >played by the rules. His mother referred to him as the ?black sheep of
> > > >the family? whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he
> > > >fit in his family?s world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country
> > > >clubs and preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He
> > > >had already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident
> > > >left him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > >blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father had
> > > >been clear when saying, ?This condition of yours is not suitable for the
> > > >courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for research,
> > > >perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable.? Ayden was not
> > > >able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After completing his
> > > >bachelor?s in literature, Ayden took up a career writing for any
> > > >newspapers or journals that accepted his entries. Writing for a small
> > > >literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had turned
> > > >into a fictionalized account of his grandfather?s death. Asking his
> > > >father for any information about his grandfather?s life, was the reason
> > > >Ayden now sat in his father?s study. He found more, he thought, than
> > > >his father knew about though. ?So what?s next?? Salma asked. Salma
> > > >lived across the hall from Ayden in his building. They had become
> > > >friends, and Salma now was helping him research his grandfather?s life.
> > > >Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden said, ?I?m not sure. This letter
> > > >says a lot.? Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > >evidence, even if circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it,
> > > >she could have killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled
> > > >before Salma spoke. ?It?s pretty clear from this letter that your
> > > >grandfather was having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these
> > > >initials, A. W.? Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone
> > > >he had ever met with A. W. for initials. ?I don?t know,? he sighed. As
> > > >Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found an old
> > > >copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > >the third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping
> > > >the gift, then exclaimed, ?Oh,? before looking up with tears in her
> > > >eyes. Wuthering Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had
> > > >been the one person to encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up
> > > >writing instead of joining the family law firm. ?You?re meant to follow
> > > >your own path,? Lucy had told Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and
> > > >Salma found a letter enclosed in the pages of the book. Ayden touched
> > > >the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to Salma to inspect.
> > > >She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as the book. A few
> > > >of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The letter was
> > > >simple as she read:
> > > >Henry, my love,
> > > >I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming down
> > > >the road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer
> > > >must we wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too
> > > >late.
> > > >Love, A. W.
> > > >?What now? Where do we go next?? Salma asked.
> > > >Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. ?We visit the old
> > > >Templeton mansion.? The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry
> > > >and Lucy had lived in for years. The family still owned it, but it had
> > > >sat empty for years. Ayden thought that maybe more secrets were hidden
> > > >within the walls of the Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden?s fingers
> > > >slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > >wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > >grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > >firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > >Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden
> > > >really didn?t know much about his family?s past. Lucy and Henry had
> > > >moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but Ayden
> > > >had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable to cope
> > > >with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the City, and
> > > >Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now for ten
> > > >years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. ?Are we there??
> > > >?Yes. What?s our first stop?? ?I?m figuring this out as we go along.
> > > >I guess the police station.? Salma was silent before saying, ?You okay?
> > > >I know your dad wasn?t happy.? Ayden had questioned his father about the
> > > >letter, but Nick had gone quiet and cold before telling Ayden, ?Leave it
> > > >alone. We don?t dig up family history.? Ayden tried to coax Nick to say
> > > >more, but the subject was closed. ?Yeah. I wish he would have told us
> > > >more. Explained something,? Ayden said. ?Maybe he just wants to keep
> > > >your family secrets, well, secret. Some people don?t like giving out
> > > >info about anything.? ?I just feel like he knows more than he?s letting
> > > >on. Mom just played dumb too.? ?We?ll find something. Don?t worry.?
> > > >Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > >life. The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day,
> > > >knocking on his door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some
> > > >home made enchiladas. That had been the beginning of their friendship.
> > > >They had spent many nights talking until three in the morning and
> > > >hanging out on weekends. Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the
> > > >outside world. Once moving away from his family, he had become a
> > > >recluse of sorts. He showed up to the office for work, attended
> > > >cocktail parties required for work and even dated a couple of girls, but
> > > >Salma was the one person he truly felt comfortable with. Her infectious
> > > >way of always looking at things positively seemed like a novelty to
> > > >Ayden. She could always make him smile. When he began writing the book
> > > >about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could. ?I?m
> > > >really glad you?re here,? Ayden said.
> > > >
> > > >?Yeah, yeah. I?m waiting for my pay check.? Salma giggled as she
> > > >pulled into a parking stall. ?I think we?re here.? While Salma dropped
> > > >coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the brick
> > > >walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his cane
> > > >tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. ?No Braille, is this it?? he
> > > >shouted back to Salma. ?I believe so,? she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > >They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the police
> > > >station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one pressed
> > > >keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > >thought, must be a reception desk. Stepping up to a smooth feeling
> > > >counter, Ayden said, ?Excuse me.? ?Can I help you?? a woman?s bored
> > > >voice said. ?We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked
> > > >the Henry Templeton case,? Ayden said. The woman stopped typing and a
> > > >long silence followed. ?Who?s asking?? ?I?m Ayden Templeton, Henry?s
> > > >grandson.? ?One minute.? A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > >clacked as she walked away. Salma touched Ayden?s arm. ?She had a weird
> > > >look when you mentioned your grandpa?s name.? Ayden said nothing, not
> > > >sure what he was doing there in the first place. The woman?s shoes
> > > >clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep joined hers, but
> > > >this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled towards Salma,
> > > >saying, ?Hello. I?m Sheriff Jenkins. How can I help you?? Ayden
> > > >stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > >?I?m Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions
> > > >about my grandfather?s death.? There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins
> > > >shook Ayden?s hand. ?Step into my office please.? Ayden followed the
> > > >sheriff into a room off the main section of the department. His cane
> > > >swep the inside of the door frame, indicating the width so Ayden avoided
> > > >bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked where a chair was and
> > > >turned in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated. Once again, his cane
> > > >found the chair and sliding the cane across the seat, Ayden determined
> > > >where the front of the chair was. Salma?s arm brushed his as she sat
> > > >next to him. ?Can I get you anything?? Sheriff Jenkins asked. ?No, but
> > > >thank you. Salma?? ?I?m good,? Salma replied. Ayden felt a tension fill
> > > >the room as the three sat there, not speaking. Sheriff Jenkins began
> > > >tapping the edge of the metal table in the interrogation room. Ayden
> > > >twisted his cane between his fingers. Salma bobbed her foot which was
> > > >lightly kicking Ayden?s shin. ?We?re hoping to learn as much as we can
> > > >about Henry Templeton?s death. I?m researching the story for a novel
> > > >I?m working on,? Ayden started. ?I worked the case. There?s not much to
> > > >tell,? Sheriff Jenkins said. ?I know you eventually reported it as an
> > > >accidental death, but was there ever any evidence suggesting otherwise??
> > > >Ayden asked. ?No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > >reason to believe Henry Templeton was murdered,? Sheriff Jenkins said
> > > >sharply. Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, ?I know
> > > >there was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it.? ?Lucy
> > > >Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she married
> > > >Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted.? Ayden leaned against the
> > > >table looking straight in the direction where Sheriff Jenkins sat. ?I
> > > >thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer from a wealthy family.?
> > > >?He was a playboy. Always was, never changed.? ?Who did you question
> > > >about his death?? Salma broke in. The sheriff?s chair creaked as he
> > > >leaned back. ?Well, of course Lucy and her boy Nick. They were there.
> > > >Found his body and all.? Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance.
> > > >He was talking like he had forgot who Ayden was. ?Then there was Zelda,
> > > >the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came around about once a week to
> > > >help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden. Her roses won prizes
> > > >around here,? Sheriff Jenkins continued. ?Anyone else?? Ayden asked.
> > > >?Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn?t see much
> > > >of him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > >years. She still did stuff part-time for Henry.? Ayden had pulled out a
> > > >three-by-five plastic device that had six rows of cells containing three
> > > >holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop sound was made as Ayden
> > > >poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus through the holes as he
> > > >took Braille notes. ?Are any of these people still around?? ?Not
> > > >everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton?s to leave town.
> > > >Other than Henry?s work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > >around here. At least the one?s who are still alive.? ?Is there
> > > >anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange you noticed?
> > > >Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental tumble down
> > > >the stairs?? The sheriff laughed. ?I know you city folk like to dream
> > > >up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton?s death was
> > > >nothing more than an accident. Nothing dark about it.? ?Thank you for
> > > >your time,? Ayden said extending his hand again to shake Sheriff
> > > >Jenkins?s. Sheriff Jenkins sighed. ?Look, don?t go digging anything up.
> > > >Just let the dead rest.? Salma?s bracelet tinkled as they stood. ?We
> > > >understand. I?m just trying to find things out about my grandfather for
> > > >the book. You know, no stone uncovered,? Ayden said. ?Are you two
> > > >married?? Sheriff Jenkins asked. Ayden, confused by the switch, replied,
> > > >?No.? The sheriff chuckled. ?Like your grandpa, I see.? Ayden blushed,
> > > >but Salma said, ?Ayden is nothing but a gentleman. Clearly something he
> > > >did not pick up in this town.? ?I know the kind of men the Templeton?s
> > > >are,? the sheriff said. Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. ?At
> > > >least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > >this whole time,? Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > >rush of breeze as she left the room.
> > > >
> > > >Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > >?I?m sorry. I didn?t know what to say.?
> > > >?It?s okay. He was a pig.?
> > > >?I didn?t realize-?
> > > >?I know, its okay. Where to next??
> > > >Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. ?The house, I
> > > >guess.? As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > >Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > >simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > > >he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > >admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > > >Salma.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > >during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > > >always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > >complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > >house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a
> > > >large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > >majestically towards the sky.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > > >the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > >banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > >porch, he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of
> > > >falling through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly
> > > >drove down the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It
> > > >was as though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the distant
> > > >sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma
> > > >stood next to him. ?How does it look?? Ayden asked ignoring the scent.
> > > >Salma took a deep breath. ?It?s run down, that?s for sure. I can?t
> > > >believe no one has lived here for years.? ?My family still owns it, but
> > > >after my grandfather?s death, no one wanted to do anything about it.?
> > > >Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated Victorian
> > > >house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his
> > > >father?s office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet
> > > >click was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in
> > > >Salma?s direction before stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house
> > > >engulfed all sound like a tomb. ?Creepy,? Salma said as she shivered.
> > > >Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to
> > > >not run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he
> > > >inhaled. ?This has been sitting for years,? Ayden rasped. ?What?s it
> > > >look like?? Salma looked around. ?It?s really dark, but it?s almost
> > > >completely empty. What do you think you?ll find?? ?I?m not sure.
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins wasn?t much help. I just thought, maybe something??
> > > >Salma?s sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open
> > > >it. ?Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air.? Ayden
> > > >felt a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered up. The sound of
> > > >kids jumping rope ruined the house?s stolid silence. Life entered the
> > > >house again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma
> > > >clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling walls and
> > > >any remaining furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He rifled
> > > >through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust and
> > > >cobwebs. ?Ayden, Ayden!? Salma shouted a couple of hours later. Ayden
> > > >hurried towards the staircase. ?Salma! Are you okay?? ?Get up here! I
> > > >found something!? Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the
> > > >top, he shouted, ?What room?? ?Um, it?s a bedroom.? Hearing her voice
> > > >off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At the end, he found a
> > > >door open. ?Salma?? Salma?s clapping sandals moved towards Ayden. ?Look
> > > >at this,? she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper crackled
> > > >as she shoved something in Ayden?s hand. Ayden grinned. ?Um?? He
> > > >handed the paper back to Salma. ?Oh-sorry. I just-you won?t believe
> > > >this.? It was another letter; a love letter to Henry. Henry, My love, I
> > > >miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > >with you, really be with you. Let?s stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > >Don?t be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop
> > > >hiding. There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > >don?t take long. Love,
> > > >A. W.
> > > >Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > >quite sure what her excitement was for. ?We already know Henry was
> > > >having an affair of sorts,? he said. Salma sighed impatiently. ?Ayden,
> > > >think about it. Don?t you see?? ?Not really,? he said slowly. She
> > > >grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a strength
> > > >Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > >Ayden took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > >with it. Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing
> > > >him back to attention. ?Ayden, A. W. Don?t you see it yet?? ?A. W.??
> > > >?The initials,? she said exasperated, ?A. W. Alice Whitley.? ?Who?s
> > > >Alice Whitley?? Salma smacked her forehead. ?Ay-where are your notes
> > > >from today?? Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back
> > > >pocket. ?Now read through it,? Salma said as though talking to a small
> > > >child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up
> > > >at Salma. ?See?? Salma asked. ?I can?t believe we didn?t realize it
> > > >then. His secretary. And Sheriff Jenkins said she?s still living in
> > > >town.? ?Think we can find her?? ?Give me a minute,? Ayden said reaching
> > > >for his mobile phone tucked away in his pocket. An electronic hum came
> > > >from his phone as he maneuvered through the menus on his phone. A
> > > >screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped Ayden utilize
> > > >the functions on his phone. ?Got it. There?s only one Alice Whitley
> > > >that shows up in town.? ?Thank God for technology,? Salma said. ?No
> > > >wonder no one could ever solve this case.? Ayden smirked at her. ?Thank
> > > >God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn?t live far from here
> > > >and it?s not too late.?
> > > >
> > > >Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > >less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > >well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman?s voice
> > > >gasped, ?Oh.? ?Miss Whitley? I?m Ayden-? ?Templeton,? she said. ?You
> > > >look like Henry.? Smiling, Ayden said, ?Miss Whitley, this is my friend
> > > >Salma. We?re working on a book about my grandfather, and we would like
> > > >to ask you some questions.? ?Oh, of course. Come in, come in.? As the
> > > >door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent that he
> > > >couldn?t place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > >into a sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the
> > > >soft couch while Alice sat across from them. ?Can I offer you anything?
> > > >I just made lemonade.? ?That would be wonderful,? Salma said. As Alice
> > > >left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. ?I?m sorry, I didn?t even
> > > >think to ask if you were hungry.? ?Hon, it?s okay. I didn?t think about
> > > >it myself until now.? ?We?ll have dinner after this; I promise.?
> > > >?Promise?? Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > >glass in Ayden?s hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp.
> > > >The cold liquid felt good down his throat after the dust of his family?s
> > > >house. He could only imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt
> > > >the mingled grime of sweat and dirt on his body. Why had it not
> > > >occurred to them to stop somewhere first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > >?So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss him.
> > > >You must call me Alice.? ?Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in
> > > >his death,? Ayden said. Alice choked on her lemonade. ?Why would you be
> > > >interested in that?? ?I believe that maybe his death wasn?t accidental.?
> > > >?Oh dear, don?t buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > >thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at.? ?And yet
> > > >the rumors persist,? Ayden said. ?Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > >there minds.? ?You know Sheriff Jenkins?? Ayden asked. ?Darling, it?s a
> > > >town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody.? Ayden sipped on his
> > > >lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the side of her glass. ?We
> > > >have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,? Ayden said.
> > > >He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like
> > > >this hundreds of times. Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass.
> > > >Her voice had lost some of its cheeriness when she responded by asking,
> > > >?What makes you say that?? Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He
> > > >removed the Braille label, setting the letter on the coffee table
> > > >dividing Ayden and Salma from Alice. The room grew still. The letter
> > > >rustled as Alice picked it up. When she spoke, she sounded choked as
> > > >though she were holding back tears. ?Where did you find this?? ?It was
> > > >in some old boxes in the Templeton home,? Salma said. A long silence
> > > >followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling. ?I suppose the truth
> > > >has to come out sooner or later,? Alice said quietly. ?We don?t
> > > >need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think Henry was
> > > >killed?? Ayden soothed. ?Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,?
> > > >Alice began, ignoring Ayden. ?I instantly fell in love with him, but he
> > > >was that type. Dashingly handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few
> > > >years older than me, but I knew how all the girls waited for their
> > > >chance to rope Henry into marriage. I felt so lucky to see him
> > > >everyday. I started out as a simple receptionist, but eventually he
> > > >promoted me to his personal secretary.? ?Did you move with my
> > > >grandparents then, when they moved?? Ayden asked. Alice sighed. ?Yes,
> > > >but after-things happened-I moved back. I remained in his employ,
> > > >working from the office here in town. Before your father took charge,
> > > >Henry?s headquarters had always been based from here.? Ayden nodded his
> > > >head. ?I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us
> > > >both, Lucy and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > >up with that smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I
> > > >should?ve known better, but I was in love.? Alice continued to spill her
> > > >story, hoping for redemption perhaps. ?The final straw came right before
> > > >his death. We had carried on for almost forty-years and I knew it had
> > > >to stop. We fought. I threatened to tell Lucy and that was that. He
> > > >left me promising to choose. I waited for an answer, but a week later,
> > > >Henry was found dead.? ?Did you ever tell anyone?? Ayden asked. ?No.?
> > > >
> > > >Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice?s house. A breeze
> > > >tousled Ayden?s hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > >dark tresses. ?Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible,? she
> > > >said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > >before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He
> > > >slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. ?You promised me dinner,?
> > > >Salma whined playfully.
> > > >
> > > >After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma found
> > > >themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up with
> > > >Ayden?s stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. ?Sometimes I
> > > >think it would be nice to live in a small town,? Salma mused. ?Really,
> > > >you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day,? Ayden joked. ?I could
> > > >drive to the city. I don?t know. It seems like a nice place to raise a
> > > >family.? Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > >well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > >learn about Salma. ?Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow
> > > >up to cheat, lie and murder,? Ayden scoffed. ?We, huh?? Ayden blushed,
> > > >feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He hadn?t caught his
> > > >blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of his words,
> > > >Salma grabbed his hand. ?Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,?
> > > >she said. They walked silently back to the car. ?It?s pretty late, what
> > > >should we do?? Salma asked. Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch
> > > >up. Feeling the raised dots and arrows with his pointer finger on his
> > > >Braille watch, he said, ?It?s a quarter to eleven. I?m beat.? ?Me too.
> > > >I don?t really feel like driving back tonight though.? Ayden scratched
> > > >his head. ?I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton.? ?Okay, but no
> > > >funny business,? Salma joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, ?By the
> > > >way, unlike some men in my family, I?m more of a one-woman type.?
> > > >
> > > >They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > >?Sure you don?t want to sleep in another room?? Ayden asked. ?Hell no!
> > > >This house is creepy.? ?I thought you wanted to raise children here??
> > > >?Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?? The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > >down on it. ?A bit musty.? They had found spare bed linens in a box and
> > > >had attempted to shake them out as best they could. Ayden had noticed a
> > > >lingering wispy scent of flowers that he could not place. It may have
> > > >been the remnants of something used to launder the linens years ago, he
> > > >had thought. Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > >Salma. ?Here. You can wrap your pillow in it.? ?Thanks,? Salma said
> > > >drawing the word out. Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for
> > > >the millionth time that day. Not able to turn back what he had done,
> > > >Ayden lay slowly down, sticking close to the edge. ?Keep your hands
> > > >above the blankets,? Salma yawned.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as he
> > > >felt Salma?s small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and
> > > >Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself gently
> > > >from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the bathroom,
> > > >but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working order. It
> > > >was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he found his way
> > > >downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no neighbors were awake
> > > >to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep still, his eyes snapped
> > > >open as a slight shuffle came from behind him. Finished with his
> > > >midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound came again. He
> > > >turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. ?Hello,? he said. No
> > > >response came. He turned back towards the house and as he walked, Ayden
> > > >felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > >terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult now, he
> > > >chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house, he
> > > >reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > >soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > >dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > >doorway again. The noise instantly stopped. Slamming the door and
> > > >locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking three steps at a time.
> > > >Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden felt a cool breeze cut
> > > >through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he swore to himself.
> > > >They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air out their
> > > >lodgings for the night. Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
> > > >He sat on the bed resting his head on the large carved headboard,
> > > >listening. Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > >trees from time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed
> > > >around the house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a
> > > >step on the stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > >of vigilante guarding. Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his
> > > >head, he smiled when Salma threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only
> > > >of Salma by now, Ayden drifted back off to sleep.
> > > >
> > > >The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > >right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > > >odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. ?Salma!
> > > >There?s a fire!? He shook her until she woke up. ?We need to get out of
> > > >here,? Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state. Ayden
> > > >flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made his eyes water.
> > > >?Salma, I can?t tell if we can make it down the stairs.? Standing next
> > > >to him, she said, ?All I can see is smoke. Can we jump out the window??
> > > >?We?re on the second floor. It?s pretty high up.? Now across the room,
> > > >Ayden heard Salma cry, ?Oh-my-god! Ayden!? ?What?? ?I can see flames
> > > >around the base of the house.? ?Shit.? Trying to think, Ayden gathered
> > > >up the sheet from the bed. Dousing it with water from the couple
> > > >bottles purchased last night, he threw the sheet at Salma. ?Wrap
> > > >yourself in this.? ?Why?? ?Just do it.? Making sure her long hair was
> > > >covered, Ayden threw Salma over his shoulder. Grabbing his cane by the
> > > >door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the shirt tied around his face
> > > >would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the stairs. Despite the
> > > >situation, Ayden could not help notice the harlequin-romance-like
> > > >predicament. He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and
> > > >he could not understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > >groped the banister which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the
> > > >bottom, he found his way to the front door and opened it. A rush of
> > > >fresh air greeted him. Feeling heat, he hoped he could make it off the
> > > >porch. At the top of the stairs, panicked, he placed Salma upright
> > > >again. She struggled to loosen the sheet around her. ?Are the flames
> > > >here too?? Ayden asked. ?No, but there coming from behind.? At the end
> > > >of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors could be heard
> > > >coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma asking if
> > > >they were okay. Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of
> > > >flames. Salma held his hand as they waited in silence for the sound of
> > > >sirens.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins?s police cruiser.
> > > >The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket draped
> > > >his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could still
> > > >smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had extinguished
> > > >the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about Ayden?s age, drove
> > > >Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a report before Nick
> > > >was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > >gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her head against his
> > > >shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden
> > > >protectively placed an arm around her. ?Ayden,? Salma said in quiet
> > > >surprise, ?Alice Whitley is here.? Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he
> > > >waited for Alice to approach. A new scent filled his nostrils. This
> > > >too smelled of flowers, but it was not the framiliar jasmine and vanilla
> > > >Salma wore. Through the fog of his brain, he tried to place where he
> > > >had smelled this scent before. ?I?m glad you two are alright,? Alice
> > > >spoke quietly. ?I can?t believe this. Do you need anything?? ?Thank
> > > >you, but we?re okay,? Salma said warmly. ?Pete phoned me this morning-?
> > > >?Sheriff Jenkins? Why?? Ayden asked. Alice didn?t respond. Waiting for
> > > >an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that had lingered
> > > >in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens. ?Alice, did you
> > > >visit the house after we left you yesterday?? Alice made a noise as
> > > >though she were suppressing it in her throat. She never answered and
> > > >before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her muffled footsteps on
> > > >the grass as she walked briskly away. ?Ayden?? Salma puzzled. ?Her
> > > >perfume, it?s the same smell I noticed in the closet last night.?
> > > >?Ayden, that?s where I found the letter too,? Salma whispered.? Ayden
> > > >heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them. It was
> > > >Nick. ?Are you crazy?? Nick asked, bewildered. ?I?m fine. Nice to see
> > > >you too, Dad.? Nick let out a long breath before saying, ?Your mother
> > > >and I went crazy when we heard what happened. We?re glad you?re okay.?
> > > >?Is the house ruined?? Ayden asked. Salma shifted and sat upright next
> > > >to Ayden. ?It?s mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > >to the house.? Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy?s
> > > >favorite place. Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall
> > > >bushes as Lucy tended to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his
> > > >thoughts, Ayden heard a shuffling footstep approach. Another memory
> > > >pushed itself front and center in his mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped
> > > >his pace, Ayden gave him a hard look. ?Tom says it will take a few weeks
> > > >to get reports back, but there is some structural damage to the house,
> > > >Nick,? the sheriff said. ?Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind
> > > >lately?? Ayden directed to Sheriff Jenkins. No one spoke. Salma gripped
> > > >his hand. ?Any reason why you?d call Alice Whitley early this morning??
> > > >Ayden continued. ?Drop it,? Nick hissed at Ayden. Thrown off by Nick?s
> > > >tone, Ayden squeezed Salma?s hand, unsure what to do. ?I?m sure we?re
> > > >all tired and need to collect our thoughts,? Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > >?Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick.? Ayden heard the
> > > >lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers as
> > > >JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > > >typed. ?Still working?? Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > > >back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > >slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > >laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. ?That
> > > >just turns me on more.? ?I called you a great big moron whose brain is
> > > >the size of his-? ?Doesn?t matter. Still sounds sexy.? Salma whipped
> > > >another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to
> > > >his work, Ayden decided to check his email. As he clicked on the
> > > >necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought over the past few
> > > >weeks. Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > >everything was circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > >opened something up. Something that had been meant to remain secret.
> > > >Nick refused to open any investigation and he remained tight-lipped
> > > >about anything he knew. The fire was officially reported as an unknown
> > > >accident since no evidence, either way, had been found determining a
> > > >cause. This, at least, was how the police report read. Ayden, though,
> > > >had inquired into the fire-chief?s report. It too was inconclusive, but
> > > >this report did mention that a match book had been found near the
> > > >premises. Salma had advised Ayden to wait before attempting any further
> > > >investigation. Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks
> > > >slip by without searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > >city, Ayden had found the courage to express his budding feelings
> > > >towards Salma. They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night
> > > >for them, except this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation
> > > >between them. Salma had stood to get another beer from the kitchen when
> > > >Ayden reached for her wrist. His large palm had felt bigger next to her
> > > >slim wrist. Both had stared silently at one another. Ayden, thinking
> > > >he would win this game since he couldn?t see, broke first. Grinning
> > > >with a smirk, he had pulled Salma to him and kissed her. Three weeks
> > > >later, their routine was continued as normal, yet something was
> > > >different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > >though it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the
> > > >new romance. Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given
> > > >for the first email he came across. Opening it up, he read the
> > > >following: Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you
> > > >stop your investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall
> > > >you. Thank your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new
> > > >love. There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field,
> > > >but the only information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > >Ayden?s pulse quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room,
> > > >he closed the window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her
> > > >just yet. Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > >Ayden knew this was just the beginning.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 2
> > > >Date: Thu, 7 Oct 2010 22:58:25 -0500
> > > >From: Priscilla McKinley <priscilla.mckinley at gmail.com>
> > > >To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >Message-ID:
> > > > <AANLkTi=iDNLqd5JgFQGiLT8M3UKuuWAS2HjBP-P0NnBH at mail.gmail.com>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset=windows-1252
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit,
> > > >
> > > >I really enjoyed reading your piece. I was very much engaged by the
> > > >story. The only part I had issues with was the beginning. It seems as
> > > >though too much history is packed into a few paragraphs. Perhaps you
> > > >could incorporate some of the details in other parts and introduce the
> > > >characters and stories as they come up? Plus, it might be interesting
> > > >to let your readers wonder for a while what is going on, leading them in
> > > >to discover that they are in the middle of an amateur murder
> > > >investigation.
> > > >
> > > >Nice work!
> > > >
> > > >Priscilla
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >On 10/7/10, Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com> wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > Hey guys,
> > > > >
> > > > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > > > credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > > > mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I
> > > > > wrote it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator!
> > > > > *smile*
> > > > >
> > > > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > > >
> > > > > Bridgit P
> > > > >
> > > > > Sense of Murder
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in his father?s leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > > > between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed
> > > > > by his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across
> > > >
> > > > > the rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > > > researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > > > writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had
> > > > > been murdered. Ayden?s father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather,
> > > >
> > > > > lying at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke
> > > > > about the incident after reporting it to the police. He would not
> > > > > speak to Ayden about Henry?s death either, but he was allowing Ayden
> > > > > and Salma to search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure
> > > > > what happened. Lucy, Ayden?s grandmother, had been present too when
> > > > > Henry?s body was found. The police recorded the death as an
> > > > > accidental fall. Many silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy
> > > > > had grown distraught during the past few months before Henry?s death.
> > > > > Friends and family reported that she had been distracted often or in
> > > > > an irritated mood. This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother
> > > > > Ayden had grown up with. When Nick found his father?s body, Lucy had
> > > > > gone wild, screaming, unable to leave Henry?s lifeless body.
> > > > > Eventually Nick placed her in a care home. Here Lucy had reached an
> > > > > almost catatonic state until she too had passed. Gossips spread the
> > > > > news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy, they said. She went mad,
> > > >
> > > > > she killed her husband. It was juicy, just what a small town needed.
> > > >
> > > > > The police never looked into the possibility, but Lucy died with a
> > > > > scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could never believe that
> > > >
> > > > > Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden, guiding him,
> > > > > encouraging him. ?You?re so full of potential, Ayden. I can see fire
> > > >
> > > > > in your eyes,? she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his vision, Lucy
> > > >
> > > > > had been the one person who supported him, still encouraging. For
> > > > > years, though, there had been whispers of foul play, but no one ever
> > > > > spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the closest anyone
> > > > > came to mentioning ?murder.? Ayden, though, had never played by the
> > > > > rules. His mother referred to him as the ?black sheep of the family?
> > > > > whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he fit in
> > > > > his family?s world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country clubs and
> > > >
> > > > > preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He had
> > > > > already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident left
> > > >
> > > > > him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > > > blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father
> > > > > had been clear when saying, ?This condition of yours is not suitable
> > > > > for the courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for
> > > > > research, perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable.?
> > > > > Ayden was not able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After
> > > >
> > > > > completing his bachelor?s in literature, Ayden took up a career
> > > > > writing for any newspapers or journals that accepted his entries.
> > > > > Writing for a small literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his
> > > > > novel which had turned into a fictionalized account of his
> > > > > grandfather?s death. Asking his father for any information about his
> > > > > grandfather?s life, was the reason Ayden now sat in his father?s
> > > > > study. He found more, he thought, than his father knew about though.
> > > >
> > > > > ?So what?s next?? Salma asked. Salma lived across the hall from Ayden
> > > >
> > > > > in his building. They had become friends, and Salma now was helping
> > > > > him research his grandfather?s life. Tapping the key in his palm,
> > > > > Ayden said, ?I?m not sure. This letter says a lot.? Ayden closed his
> > > > > eyes thinking on this letter. It was evidence, even if
> > > > > circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it, she could have
> > > > > killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled before Salma
> > > > > spoke. ?It?s pretty clear from this letter that your grandfather was
> > > > > having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these initials, A.
> > > > > W.? Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone he had
> > > > > ever met with A. W. for initials. ?I don?t know,? he sighed.
> > > > > As Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found
> > > >an old
> > > > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > >the
> > > > > third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping the
> > > >gift,
> > > > > then exclaimed, ?Oh,? before looking up with tears in her eyes.
> > > >Wuthering
> > > > > Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had been the one
> > > >person to
> > > > > encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up writing instead of
> > > >joining
> > > > > the family law firm. ?You?re meant to follow your own path,? Lucy had
> > > >told
> > > > > Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and Salma found a letter
> > > >enclosed in
> > > > > the pages of the book.
> > > > > Ayden touched the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to
> > > >Salma
> > > > > to inspect. She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as
> > > >the
> > > > > book. A few of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The
> > > > > letter was simple as she read:
> > > > > Henry, my love,
> > > > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming
> > > >down the
> > > > > road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer must
> > > >we
> > > > > wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too late.
> > > > > Love, A. W.
> > > > > ?What now? Where do we go next?? Salma asked.
> > > > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. ?We visit the
> > > >old
> > > > > Templeton mansion.?
> > > > > The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry and Lucy had lived
> > > >in for
> > > > > years. The family still owned it, but it had sat empty for years.
> > > >Ayden
> > > > > thought that maybe more secrets were hidden within the walls of the
> > > > > Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden?s fingers
> > > >
> > > > > slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > > > wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > > > grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > > > firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > > > Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though.
> > > > > Ayden really didn?t know much about his family?s past. Lucy and Henry
> > > >
> > > > > had moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but
> > > > > Ayden had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable
> > > >
> > > > > to cope with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the
> > > > > City, and Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now
> > > > > for ten years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. ?Are we
> > > > > there?? ?Yes. What?s our first stop?? ?I?m figuring this out as we
> > > > > go along. I guess the police station.? Salma was silent before
> > > > > saying, ?You okay? I know your dad wasn?t happy.? Ayden had
> > > > > questioned his father about the letter, but Nick had gone quiet and
> > > > > cold before telling Ayden, ?Leave it alone. We don?t dig up family
> > > > > history.? Ayden tried to coax Nick to say more, but the subject was
> > > > > closed. ?Yeah. I wish he would have told us more. Explained
> > > > > something,? Ayden said.
> > > > > ?Maybe he just wants to keep your family secrets, well, secret. Some
> > > >people
> > > > > don?t like giving out info about anything.?
> > > > > ?I just feel like he knows more than he?s letting on. Mom just played
> > > >dumb
> > > > > too.?
> > > > > ?We?ll find something. Don?t worry.?
> > > > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > >life.
> > > > > The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day, knocking on
> > > >his
> > > > > door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home made
> > > >enchiladas.
> > > > > That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > > > > nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > > > > Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world. Once
> > > >moving
> > > > > away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He showed up
> > > >to the
> > > > > office for work, attended cocktail parties required for work and even
> > > >dated
> > > > > a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he truly felt
> > > >comfortable
> > > > > with. Her infectious way of always looking at things positively
> > > >seemed like
> > > > > a novelty to Ayden. She could always make him smile. When he began
> > > >writing
> > > > > the book about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could.
> > > > > ?I?m really glad you?re here,? Ayden said.
> > > > >
> > > > > ?Yeah, yeah. I?m waiting for my pay check.? Salma giggled as she
> > > > > pulled into a parking stall. ?I think we?re here.? While Salma
> > > > > dropped coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the
> > > > > brick walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his
> > > > > cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. ?No Braille, is this
> > > > > it?? he shouted back to Salma. ?I believe so,? she answered rushing to
> > > >
> > > > > catch up. They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the
> > > > > police station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one
> > > >
> > > > > pressed keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency.
> > > > > This, he thought, must be a reception desk.
> > > > > Stepping up to a smooth feeling counter, Ayden said, ?Excuse me.?
> > > > > ?Can I help you?? a woman?s bored voice said.
> > > > > ?We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked the Henry
> > > > > Templeton case,? Ayden said.
> > > > > The woman stopped typing and a long silence followed. ?Who?s
> > > >asking??
> > > > > ?I?m Ayden Templeton, Henry?s grandson.?
> > > > > ?One minute.? A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes clacked
> > > >as she
> > > > > walked away.
> > > > > Salma touched Ayden?s arm. ?She had a weird look when you mentioned
> > > >your
> > > > > grandpa?s name.?
> > > > > Ayden said nothing, not sure what he was doing there in the first
> > > >place.
> > > > > The woman?s shoes clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep
> > > > > joined hers, but this person shuffled slightly.
> > > > > The person shuffled towards Salma, saying, ?Hello. I?m Sheriff
> > > >Jenkins.
> > > > > How can I help you??
> > > > > Ayden stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff
> > > >Jenkins.
> > > > > ?I?m Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions
> > > >about
> > > > > my grandfather?s death.?
> > > > > There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook Ayden?s hand. ?Step
> > > >into my
> > > > > office please.?
> > > > > Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > > > department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame, indicating
> > > >the
> > > > > width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden
> > > >asked
> > > > > where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins
> > > >indicated.
> > > > > Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane across the
> > > >seat,
> > > > > Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma?s arm
> > > >brushed his
> > > > > as she sat next to him.
> > > > > ?Can I get you anything?? Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > > ?No, but thank you. Salma??
> > > > > ?I?m good,? Salma replied.
> > > > > Ayden felt a tension fill the room as the three sat there, not
> > > >speaking.
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins began tapping the edge of the metal table in the
> > > > > interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his fingers.
> > > >Salma
> > > > > bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden?s shin.
> > > > > ?We?re hoping to learn as much as we can about Henry Templeton?s
> > > >death. I?m
> > > > > researching the story for a novel I?m working on,? Ayden started.
> > > > > ?I worked the case. There?s not much to tell,? Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > > > ?I know you eventually reported it as an accidental death, but was
> > > >there
> > > > > ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > ?No. We questioned friends and family and there was no reason to
> > > >believe
> > > > > Henry Templeton was murdered,? Sheriff Jenkins said sharply.
> > > > > Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, ?I know there
> > > > > was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it.?
> > > > > ?Lucy Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she
> > > >married
> > > > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted.?
> > > > > Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. ?I thought Henry was a catch? You know, a
> > > >lawyer from
> > > > > a wealthy family.?
> > > > > ?He was a playboy. Always was, never changed.?
> > > > > ?Who did you question about his death?? Salma broke in.
> > > > > The sheriff?s chair creaked as he leaned back. ?Well, of course Lucy
> > > >and
> > > > > her boy Nick. They were there. Found his body and all.?
> > > > > Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance. He was talking like he
> > > >had
> > > > > forgot who Ayden was.
> > > > > ?Then there was Zelda, the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came
> > > >around
> > > > > about once a week to help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden.
> > > >Her
> > > > > roses won prizes around here,? Sheriff Jenkins continued.
> > > > > ?Anyone else?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > ?Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn?t see
> > > >much of
> > > > > him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > >years.
> > > > > She still did stuff part-time for Henry.?
> > > > > Ayden had pulled out a three-by-five plastic device that had six rows
> > > >of
> > > > > cells containing three holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop
> > > >sound
> > > > > was made as Ayden poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus
> > > >through
> > > > > the holes as he took Braille notes. ?Are any of these people still
> > > >around??
> > > > > ?Not everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton?s to leave
> > > >town.
> > > > > Other than Henry?s work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > >around
> > > > > here. At least the one?s who are still alive.?
> > > > > ?Is there anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange
> > > >you
> > > > > noticed? Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental
> > > > > tumble down the stairs??
> > > > > The sheriff laughed. ?I know you city folk like to dream up seedy
> > > > > happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton?s death was nothing
> > > >more than
> > > > > an accident. Nothing dark about it.?
> > > > > ?Thank you for your time,? Ayden said extending his hand again to
> > > >shake
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins?s.
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins sighed. ?Look, don?t go digging anything up. Just
> > > >let the
> > > > > dead rest.?
> > > > > Salma?s bracelet tinkled as they stood.
> > > > > ?We understand. I?m just trying to find things out about my
> > > >grandfather for
> > > > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered,? Ayden said.
> > > > > ?Are you two married?? Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > > Ayden, confused by the switch, replied, ?No.?
> > > > > The sheriff chuckled. ?Like your grandpa, I see.?
> > > > > Ayden blushed, but Salma said, ?Ayden is nothing but a gentleman.
> > > >Clearly
> > > > > something he did not pick up in this town.?
> > > > > ?I know the kind of men the Templeton?s are,? the sheriff said.
> > > > > Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave.
> > > > > ?At least he has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > >admiring
> > > > > this whole time,? Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > >rush
> > > > > of breeze as she left the room.
> > > > >
> > > > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > > > ?I?m sorry. I didn?t know what to say.?
> > > > > ?It?s okay. He was a pig.?
> > > > > ?I didn?t realize-?
> > > > > ?I know, its okay. Where to next??
> > > > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. ?The house, I
> > > >
> > > > > guess.? As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > > > Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > > > simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > > >
> > > > > he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > > > admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > > >
> > > > > Salma.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > > > during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > > >
> > > > > always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > > > complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > > > house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto
> > > > > a large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories
> > > > > reached majestically towards the sky.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > > >
> > > > > the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > > > banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > > > porch, he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of
> > > > > falling through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly
> > > > > drove down the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It
> > > >
> > > > > was as though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the
> > > > > distant sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose
> > > > > as Salma stood next to him. ?How does it look?? Ayden asked ignoring
> > > > > the scent. Salma took a deep breath. ?It?s run down, that?s for sure.
> > > >
> > > > > I can?t believe no one has lived here for years.? ?My family still
> > > > > owns it, but after my grandfather?s death, no one wanted to do
> > > > > anything about it.? Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the
> > > > > dilapidated Victorian house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key
> > > > > he had found in his father?s office. As he inserted the heavy key in
> > > > > the lock, a quiet click was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open.
> > > > > He looked in Salma?s direction before stepping inside. Shutting the
> > > > > door, the house engulfed all sound like a tomb.
> > > > > ?Creepy,? Salma said as she shivered.
> > > > > Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to
> > > >not
> > > > > run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he
> > > >inhaled.
> > > > > ?This has been sitting for years,? Ayden rasped. ?What?s it look
> > > >like??
> > > > > Salma looked around. ?It?s really dark, but it?s almost completely
> > > >empty.
> > > > > What do you think you?ll find??
> > > > > ?I?m not sure. Sheriff Jenkins wasn?t much help. I just thought,
> > > >maybe
> > > > > something??
> > > > > Salma?s sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open
> > > >it.
> > > > > ?Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air.?
> > > > > Ayden felt a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered up. The
> > > >sound of
> > > > > kids jumping rope ruined the house?s stolid silence. Life entered the
> > > >house
> > > > > again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue.
> > > > > Salma clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling
> > > >walls
> > > > > and any remaining furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He
> > > >rifled
> > > > > through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust
> > > >and
> > > > > cobwebs.
> > > > > ?Ayden, Ayden!? Salma shouted a couple of hours later.
> > > > > Ayden hurried towards the staircase. ?Salma! Are you okay??
> > > > > ?Get up here! I found something!?
> > > > > Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the top, he shouted,
> > > >?What
> > > > > room??
> > > > > ?Um, it?s a bedroom.?
> > > > > Hearing her voice off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At
> > > >the
> > > > > end, he found a door open.
> > > > > ?Salma??
> > > > > Salma?s clapping sandals moved towards Ayden.
> > > > > ?Look at this,? she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper
> > > >crackled
> > > > > as she shoved something in Ayden?s hand.
> > > > > Ayden grinned. ?Um?? He handed the paper back to Salma.
> > > > > ?Oh-sorry. I just-you won?t believe this.?
> > > > > It was another letter; a love letter to Henry.
> > > > > Henry, My love,
> > > > > I miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > >with
> > > > > you, really be with you. Let?s stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > >Don?t
> > > > > be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop hiding.
> > > > > There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but don?t
> > > >take
> > > > > long.
> > > > > Love,
> > > > > A. W.
> > > > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > >quite
> > > > > sure what her excitement was for.
> > > > > ?We already know Henry was having an affair of sorts,? he said.
> > > > > Salma sighed impatiently. ?Ayden, think about it. Don?t you see??
> > > > > ?Not really,? he said slowly.
> > > > > She grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a
> > > >strength
> > > > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > >Ayden
> > > > > took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > >with it.
> > > > > Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing him back
> > > >to
> > > > > attention.
> > > > > ?Ayden, A. W. Don?t you see it yet??
> > > > > ?A. W.??
> > > > > ?The initials,? she said exasperated, ?A. W. Alice Whitley.?
> > > > > ?Who?s Alice Whitley??
> > > > > Salma smacked her forehead. ?Ay-where are your notes from today??
> > > > > Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back pocket.
> > > > > ?Now read through it,? Salma said as though talking to a small child.
> > > > > Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up at
> > > >Salma.
> > > > > ?See?? Salma asked.
> > > > > ?I can?t believe we didn?t realize it then. His secretary. And
> > > >Sheriff
> > > > > Jenkins said she?s still living in town.?
> > > > > ?Think we can find her??
> > > > > ?Give me a minute,? Ayden said reaching for his mobile phone tucked
> > > >away in
> > > > > his pocket.
> > > > > An electronic hum came from his phone as he maneuvered through the
> > > >menus on
> > > > > his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped
> > > >Ayden
> > > > > utilize the functions on his phone.
> > > > > ?Got it. There?s only one Alice Whitley that shows up in town.?
> > > > > ?Thank God for technology,? Salma said. ?No wonder no one could ever
> > > >solve
> > > > > this case.?
> > > > > Ayden smirked at her. ?Thank God for accessible technology. Come on.
> > > >She
> > > > > doesn?t live far from here and it?s not too late.?
> > > > >
> > > > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > > > less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > > > well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman?s
> > > > > voice gasped, ?Oh.? ?Miss Whitley? I?m Ayden-?
> > > > > ?Templeton,? she said. ?You look like Henry.?
> > > > > Smiling, Ayden said, ?Miss Whitley, this is my friend Salma. We?re
> > > >working
> > > > > on a book about my grandfather, and we would like to ask you some
> > > > > questions.?
> > > > > ?Oh, of course. Come in, come in.?
> > > > > As the door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent
> > > >that he
> > > > > couldn?t place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > >into a
> > > > > sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the soft
> > > >couch
> > > > > while Alice sat across from them.
> > > > > ?Can I offer you anything? I just made lemonade.?
> > > > > ?That would be wonderful,? Salma said.
> > > > > As Alice left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. ?I?m sorry, I
> > > >didn?t
> > > > > even think to ask if you were hungry.?
> > > > > ?Hon, it?s okay. I didn?t think about it myself until now.?
> > > > > ?We?ll have dinner after this; I promise.?
> > > > > ?Promise??
> > > > > Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold glass in
> > > >Ayden?s
> > > > > hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp. The cold
> > > >liquid felt
> > > > > good down his throat after the dust of his family?s house. He could
> > > >only
> > > > > imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt the mingled grime of
> > > >sweat
> > > > > and dirt on his body. Why had it not occurred to them to stop
> > > >somewhere
> > > > > first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > > > ?So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss
> > > >him. You
> > > > > must call me Alice.?
> > > > > ?Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in his death,? Ayden
> > > >said.
> > > > > Alice choked on her lemonade. ?Why would you be interested in that??
> > > > > ?I believe that maybe his death wasn?t accidental.?
> > > > > ?Oh dear, don?t buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > > > thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at.?
> > > > > ?And yet the rumors persist,? Ayden said.
> > > > > ?Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of there minds.?
> > > > > ?You know Sheriff Jenkins?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > ?Darling, it?s a town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody.?
> > > > > Ayden sipped on his lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the
> > > >side of
> > > > > her glass.
> > > > > ?We have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,? Ayden
> > > >said.
> > > > > He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like
> > > >this
> > > > > hundreds of times.
> > > > > Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her voice had lost
> > > >some of
> > > > > its cheeriness when she responded by asking, ?What makes you say
> > > >that??
> > > > > Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He removed the Braille
> > > >label,
> > > > > setting the letter on the coffee table dividing Ayden and Salma from
> > > >Alice.
> > > > > The room grew still. The letter rustled as Alice picked it up. When
> > > >she
> > > > > spoke, she sounded choked as though she were holding back tears.
> > > > > ?Where did you find this??
> > > > > ?It was in some old boxes in the Templeton home,? Salma said.
> > > > > A long silence followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling.
> > > > > ?I suppose the truth has to come out sooner or later,? Alice said
> > > >quietly.
> > > > > ?We don?t need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think
> > > >Henry
> > > > > was killed?? Ayden soothed.
> > > > > ?Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,? Alice began, ignoring
> > > > > Ayden. ?I instantly fell in love with him, but he was that type.
> > > >Dashingly
> > > > > handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few years older than me, but
> > > >I knew
> > > > > how all the girls waited for their chance to rope Henry into marriage.
> > > >I
> > > > > felt so lucky to see him everyday. I started out as a simple
> > > >receptionist,
> > > > > but eventually he promoted me to his personal secretary.?
> > > > > ?Did you move with my grandparents then, when they moved?? Ayden
> > > >asked.
> > > > > Alice sighed. ?Yes, but after-things happened-I moved back. I
> > > >remained in
> > > > > his employ, working from the office here in town. Before your father
> > > >took
> > > > > charge, Henry?s headquarters had always been based from here.?
> > > > > Ayden nodded his head.
> > > > > ?I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us both,
> > > >Lucy
> > > > > and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed up with
> > > >that
> > > > > smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I should?ve known
> > > >better,
> > > > > but I was in love.?
> > > > > Alice continued to spill her story, hoping for redemption perhaps.
> > > > > ?The final straw came right before his death. We had carried on for
> > > >almost
> > > > > forty-years and I knew it had to stop. We fought. I threatened to
> > > >tell
> > > > > Lucy and that was that. He left me promising to choose. I waited for
> > > >an
> > > > > answer, but a week later, Henry was found dead.?
> > > > > ?Did you ever tell anyone?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > ?No.?
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice?s house. A breeze
> > > > > tousled Ayden?s hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > > > dark tresses. ?Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible,? she
> > > >
> > > > > said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned,
> > > > > but before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click
> > > > > open. He slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. ?You promised
> > > > > me dinner,? Salma whined playfully.
> > > > >
> > > > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma
> > > > > found themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up
> > > > > with Ayden?s stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc.
> > > > > ?Sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a small town,? Salma
> > > > > mused. ?Really, you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day,? Ayden
> > > > > joked. ?I could drive to the city. I don?t know. It seems like a
> > > > > nice place to raise a family.? Ayden had never heard Salma speak about
> > > >
> > > > > kids or families. As well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was
> > > > > plenty he still had to learn about Salma. ?Yes, we could raise happy
> > > > > little kids who will grow up to cheat, lie and murder,? Ayden scoffed.
> > > > > ?We, huh??
> > > > > Ayden blushed, feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He
> > > >hadn?t
> > > > > caught his blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of
> > > >his
> > > > > words, Salma grabbed his hand.
> > > > > ?Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,? she said.
> > > > > They walked silently back to the car.
> > > > > ?It?s pretty late, what should we do?? Salma asked.
> > > > > Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch up. Feeling the raised
> > > >dots and
> > > > > arrows with his pointer finger on his Braille watch, he said, ?It?s a
> > > > > quarter to eleven. I?m beat.?
> > > > > ?Me too. I don?t really feel like driving back tonight though.?
> > > > > Ayden scratched his head. ?I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton.?
> > > > > ?Okay, but no funny business,? Salma joked.
> > > > > Sitting in the car, Ayden said, ?By the way, unlike some men in my
> > > >family,
> > > > > I?m more of a one-woman type.?
> > > > >
> > > > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > > > ?Sure you don?t want to sleep in another room?? Ayden asked. ?Hell no!
> > > >
> > > > > This house is creepy.? ?I thought you wanted to raise children here??
> > > > > ?Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?? The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > >down
> > > > > on it. ?A bit musty.?
> > > > > They had found spare bed linens in a box and had attempted to shake
> > > >them out
> > > > > as best they could. Ayden had noticed a lingering wispy scent of
> > > >flowers
> > > > > that he could not place. It may have been the remnants of something
> > > >used to
> > > > > launder the linens years ago, he had thought.
> > > > > Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to Salma.
> > > >?Here.
> > > > > You can wrap your pillow in it.?
> > > > > ?Thanks,? Salma said drawing the word out.
> > > > > Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for the millionth time
> > > >that day.
> > > > > Not able to turn back what he had done, Ayden lay slowly down,
> > > >sticking
> > > > > close to the edge.
> > > > > ?Keep your hands above the blankets,? Salma yawned.
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as
> > > > > he felt Salma?s small body nestled against his. She snored quietly
> > > > > and Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself
> > > > > gently from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the
> > > > > bathroom, but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working
> > > >
> > > > > order. It was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he
> > > > > found his way downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no
> > > > > neighbors were awake to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep
> > > > > still, his eyes snapped open as a slight shuffle came from behind him.
> > > >
> > > > > Finished with his midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound
> > > > > came again. He turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. ?Hello,?
> > > >
> > > > > he said. No response came. He turned back towards the house and as he
> > > >
> > > > > walked, Ayden felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a
> > > >
> > > > > child when terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult
> > > > > now, he chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the
> > > > > house, he reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut
> > > > > the doors, a soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could
> > > > > have been the long dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden
> > > > > placed himself in the doorway again. The noise instantly stopped.
> > > > > Slamming the door and locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking
> > > >three
> > > > > steps at a time. Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden
> > > >felt a
> > > > > cool breeze cut through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he
> > > >swore to
> > > > > himself. They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air
> > > >out
> > > > > their lodgings for the night.
> > > > > Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed. He sat on the bed
> > > >resting
> > > > > his head on the large carved headboard, listening.
> > > > > Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of trees
> > > >from
> > > > > time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed around the
> > > > > house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a step on the
> > > > > stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes of
> > > >vigilante
> > > > > guarding.
> > > > > Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his head, he smiled when
> > > >Salma
> > > > > threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only of Salma by now, Ayden
> > > >drifted
> > > > > back off to sleep.
> > > > >
> > > > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > >
> > > > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > > >
> > > > > odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed.
> > > > > ?Salma! There?s a fire!? He shook her until she woke up. ?We need to
> > > >
> > > > > get out of here,? Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience
> > > > > state. Ayden flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made
> > > > > his eyes water. ?Salma, I can?t tell if we can make it down the
> > > > > stairs.? Standing next to him, she said, ?All I can see is smoke. Can
> > > >
> > > > > we jump out the window??
> > > > > ?We?re on the second floor. It?s pretty high up.?
> > > > > Now across the room, Ayden heard Salma cry, ?Oh-my-god! Ayden!?
> > > > > ?What??
> > > > > ?I can see flames around the base of the house.?
> > > > > ?Shit.? Trying to think, Ayden gathered up the sheet from the bed.
> > > >Dousing
> > > > > it with water from the couple bottles purchased last night, he threw
> > > >the
> > > > > sheet at Salma. ?Wrap yourself in this.?
> > > > > ?Why??
> > > > > ?Just do it.?
> > > > > Making sure her long hair was covered, Ayden threw Salma over his
> > > >shoulder.
> > > > > Grabbing his cane by the door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the
> > > >shirt
> > > > > tied around his face would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the
> > > > > stairs. Despite the situation, Ayden could not help notice the
> > > > > harlequin-romance-like predicament.
> > > > > He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and he could
> > > >not
> > > > > understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he groped the
> > > >banister
> > > > > which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the bottom, he found his
> > > >way to
> > > > > the front door and opened it. A rush of fresh air greeted him.
> > > >Feeling
> > > > > heat, he hoped he could make it off the porch. At the top of the
> > > >stairs,
> > > > > panicked, he placed Salma upright again. She struggled to loosen the
> > > >sheet
> > > > > around her.
> > > > > ?Are the flames here too?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > ?No, but there coming from behind.?
> > > > > At the end of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors
> > > >could be
> > > > > heard coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma
> > > >asking
> > > > > if they were okay.
> > > > > Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of flames. Salma
> > > >held his
> > > > > hand as they waited in silence for the sound of sirens.
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins?s police cruiser.
> > > > > The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket
> > > > > draped his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he
> > > > > could still smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had
> > > > > extinguished the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about
> > > > > Ayden?s age, drove Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a
> > > >
> > > > > report before Nick was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering
> > > > > a cup of water. He gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her
> > > > > head against his shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower
> > > > > scent and smoke, Ayden protectively placed an arm around her.
> > > > > ?Ayden,? Salma said in quiet surprise, ?Alice Whitley is here.?
> > > > > Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he waited for Alice to approach. A
> > > >new
> > > > > scent filled his nostrils. This too smelled of flowers, but it was
> > > >not the
> > > > > framiliar jasmine and vanilla Salma wore. Through the fog of his
> > > >brain, he
> > > > > tried to place where he had smelled this scent before.
> > > > > ?I?m glad you two are alright,? Alice spoke quietly. ?I can?t believe
> > > >this.
> > > > > Do you need anything??
> > > > > ?Thank you, but we?re okay,? Salma said warmly.
> > > > > ?Pete phoned me this morning-?
> > > > > ?Sheriff Jenkins? Why?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > Alice didn?t respond.
> > > > > Waiting for an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that
> > > >had
> > > > > lingered in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens.
> > > > > ?Alice, did you visit the house after we left you yesterday??
> > > > > Alice made a noise as though she were suppressing it in her throat.
> > > >She
> > > > > never answered and before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her
> > > > > muffled footsteps on the grass as she walked briskly away.
> > > > > ?Ayden?? Salma puzzled.
> > > > > ?Her perfume, it?s the same smell I noticed in the closet last night.?
> > > > > ?Ayden, that?s where I found the letter too,? Salma whispered.?
> > > > > Ayden heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them.
> > > >It was
> > > > > Nick.
> > > > > ?Are you crazy?? Nick asked, bewildered.
> > > > > ?I?m fine. Nice to see you too, Dad.?
> > > > > Nick let out a long breath before saying, ?Your mother and I went
> > > >crazy when
> > > > > we heard what happened. We?re glad you?re okay.?
> > > > > ?Is the house ruined?? Ayden asked.
> > > > > Salma shifted and sat upright next to Ayden.
> > > > > ?It?s mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage to the
> > > >house.?
> > > > > Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy?s favorite
> > > >place.
> > > > > Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall bushes as Lucy
> > > >tended
> > > > > to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his thoughts, Ayden heard a
> > > >shuffling
> > > > > footstep approach. Another memory pushed itself front and center in
> > > >his
> > > > > mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped his pace, Ayden gave him a hard
> > > >look.
> > > > > ?Tom says it will take a few weeks to get reports back, but there is
> > > >some
> > > > > structural damage to the house, Nick,? the sheriff said.
> > > > > ?Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind lately?? Ayden directed
> > > >to
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > > No one spoke. Salma gripped his hand.
> > > > > ?Any reason why you?d call Alice Whitley early this morning?? Ayden
> > > > > continued.
> > > > > ?Drop it,? Nick hissed at Ayden.
> > > > > Thrown off by Nick?s tone, Ayden squeezed Salma?s hand, unsure what to
> > > >do.
> > > > > ?I?m sure we?re all tired and need to collect our thoughts,? Sheriff
> > > >Jenkins
> > > > > said. ?Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick.? Ayden heard
> > > >the
> > > > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers
> > > > > as JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > > >
> > > > > typed. ?Still working?? Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > > >
> > > > > back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > > > slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > > > laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. ?That
> > > > > just turns me on more.?
> > > > > ?I called you a great big moron whose brain is the size of his-?
> > > > > ?Doesn?t matter. Still sounds sexy.?
> > > > > Salma whipped another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom.
> > > > > Turning back to his work, Ayden decided to check his email.
> > > > > As he clicked on the necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought
> > > >over
> > > > > the past few weeks.
> > > > > Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that everything
> > > >was
> > > > > circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had opened
> > > >something
> > > > > up. Something that had been meant to remain secret. Nick refused to
> > > >open
> > > > > any investigation and he remained tight-lipped about anything he knew.
> > > > > The fire was officially reported as an unknown accident since no
> > > >evidence,
> > > > > either way, had been found determining a cause. This, at least, was
> > > >how the
> > > > > police report read. Ayden, though, had inquired into the fire-chief?s
> > > > > report. It too was inconclusive, but this report did mention that a
> > > >match
> > > > > book had been found near the premises. Salma had advised Ayden to
> > > >wait
> > > > > before attempting any further investigation.
> > > > > Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks slip by without
> > > > > searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the city, Ayden
> > > >had
> > > > > found the courage to express his budding feelings towards Salma.
> > > > > They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night for them,
> > > >except
> > > > > this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation between them. Salma
> > > >had
> > > > > stood to get another beer from the kitchen when Ayden reached for her
> > > >wrist.
> > > > > His large palm had felt bigger next to her slim wrist. Both had
> > > >stared
> > > > > silently at one another. Ayden, thinking he would win this game since
> > > >he
> > > > > couldn?t see, broke first. Grinning with a smirk, he had pulled Salma
> > > >to
> > > > > him and kissed her.
> > > > > Three weeks later, their routine was continued as normal, yet
> > > >something was
> > > > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > >though
> > > > > it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the new
> > > >romance.
> > > > > Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given for the
> > > >first
> > > > > email he came across. Opening it up, he read the following:
> > > > > Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you stop your
> > > > > investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall you.
> > > >Thank
> > > > > your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new love.
> > > > > There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field, but
> > > >the only
> > > > > information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com. Ayden?s
> > > >pulse
> > > > > quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room, he closed
> > > >the
> > > > > window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her just yet.
> > > > > Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug, Ayden
> > > >knew this
> > > > > was just the beginning.
> > > > >
> > > > > _______________________________________________
> > > > > Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > > > <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > > >
> > > > > stylist mailing list
> > > > > stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > > > To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> > > > > stylist:
> > > > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/priscilla.mck
> > > > > inley%40gmail.com
> > > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 3
> > > >Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 07:53:42 -0400
> > > >From: "Joe Orozco" <jsorozco at gmail.com>
> > > >To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >Message-ID: <8CB6CFF16AAB48FDBCFCFE4B7CB7F925 at Rufus>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit,
> > > >
> > > >Excellent writing as always. For me, there are only a couple comments.
> > > >First, there seemed to be too many issues wrestling for center stage.
> > > >This is part of the restriction of a short story, but I felt tumbled
> > > >about a little attempting to debate between attaching to the romantic
> > > >plot, his blindness abilities, and the mystery. I guess I'd rather have
> > > >a center element that captures me and holds me from beginning to end.
> > > >Second, because the story moves at a fleeting clip, I wonder if you
> > > >could rearrange the events a little. Perhaps you could start with Aiden
> > > >and Salma meeting with an unidentified person, flash back to the
> > > >unfolding events and then return to the present where the suspect is
> > > >revealed? I guess I'm looking for something that would package the
> > > >story in the same length but rearrange it so that the meal feels more
> > > >balanced. Finally, and this just might show my ignorance, but although
> > > >I don't mind hanging conclusions, I really have no idea how the plot was
> > > >resolved. Right now I think the sheriff may have been responsible, but
> > > >then, funny business about his father not pursuing an investigation.
> > > >Maybe this was the point, to keep people guessing, but with multiple
> > > >themes going on, I guess I'd like the presumed main theme to be
> > > >resolved. All of this having been said, I really enjoyed the way
> > > >Ayden's being blind did not detract from the general painting of the
> > > >setting. If the narrator is going to be so descriptive about Ayden's
> > > >other blindness skills, I may have described people's voices a little
> > > >more in the dialogue, but all in all, this was a great way to start my
> > > >Friday. Great job.
> > > >
> > > >Best,
> > > >
> > > >Joe
> > > >
> > > >"Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their
> > > >sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all."--Sam
> > > >Ewing
> > > >
> > > >-----Original Message-----
> > > >From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org
> > > >[mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Priscilla McKinley
> > > >Sent: Thursday, October 07, 2010 11:58 PM
> > > >To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> > > >Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of
> > > >Murder" some language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit,
> > > >
> > > >I really enjoyed reading your piece. I was very much engaged by the
> > > >story. The only part I had issues with was the beginning. It seems as
> > > >though too much history is packed into a few paragraphs. Perhaps you
> > > >could incorporate some of the details in other parts and introduce the
> > > >characters and stories as they come up? Plus, it might be interesting
> > > >to let your readers wonder for a while what is going on, leading them in
> > > >to discover that they are in the middle of an amateur murder
> > > >investigation.
> > > >
> > > >Nice work!
> > > >
> > > >Priscilla
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >On 10/7/10, Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com> wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > Hey guys,
> > > > >
> > > > > I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an
> > > >upper lit credit.
> > > > > We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > >mine with you.
> > > > > Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote it in about a
> > > >
> > > > > 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > > > >
> > > > > It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > > >
> > > > > Bridgit P
> > > > >
> > > > > Sense of Murder
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in his father's leather wingback chair rolling a
> > > >large key between
> > > > > his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed
> > > >by his hands.
> > > > > He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > >rough , rusty
> > > > > surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been researching
> > > >the mysterious
> > > > > death of his grandfather for a book he was writing. Now, he
> > > >sat among items
> > > > > wondering if his grandfather had been murdered.
> > > > > Ayden's father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > >at the bottom
> > > > > of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > >incident after
> > > > > reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > >about Henry's death
> > > > > either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to search through
> > > >any items Nick
> > > > > kept.
> > > > > No one had been sure what happened. Lucy, Ayden's
> > > >grandmother, had been
> > > > > present too when Henry's body was found. The police recorded
> > > >the death as
> > > > > an accidental fall. Many silently pointed fingers at Lucy though.
> > > > > Lucy had grown distraught during the past few months before
> > > >Henry's death.
> > > > > Friends and family reported that she had been distracted
> > > >often or in an
> > > > > irritated mood. This was unlike the warm and tender
> > > >grandmother Ayden had
> > > > > grown up with.
> > > > > When Nick found his father's body, Lucy had gone wild,
> > > >screaming, unable to
> > > > > leave Henry's lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a
> > > >care home.
> > > > > Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too
> > > >had passed.
> > > > > Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was
> > > >crazy, they said.
> > > > > She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > >what a small town
> > > > > needed. The police never looked into the possibility, but
> > > >Lucy died with a
> > > > > scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could never
> > > >believe that Lucy
> > > > > would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden, guiding him,
> > > >encouraging
> > > > > him. "You're so full of potential, Ayden. I can see fire in
> > > >your eyes,"
> > > > > she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his vision, Lucy had
> > > >been the one
> > > > > person who supported him, still encouraging.
> > > > > For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play, but
> > > >no one ever
> > > > > spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the closest
> > > >anyone came to
> > > > > mentioning "murder." Ayden, though, had never played by the
> > > >rules. His
> > > > > mother referred to him as the "black sheep of the family"
> > > >whenever she threw
> > > > > a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he fit in his family's world of
> > > >
> > > > > snobbish dinner parties, elite country clubs and preferential
> > > >treatment at
> > > > > most Ivy League universities. He had already been a
> > > >disappointment to his
> > > > > family before a car accident left him blind. Seven-years
> > > >later, Ayden had
> > > > > come to terms with his blindness, but his family accepted him
> > > >only out of
> > > > > duty. His father had been clear when saying, "This condition
> > > >of yours is
> > > > > not suitable for the courtroom, but the firm can take you on
> > > >in a capacity
> > > > > for research, perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable."
> > > > > Ayden was not able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After
> > > >
> > > > > completing his bachelor's in literature, Ayden took up a
> > > >career writing for
> > > > > any newspapers or journals that accepted his entries.
> > > >Writing for a small
> > > > > literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had
> > > >turned into a
> > > > > fictionalized account of his grandfather's death. Asking his
> > > >father for any
> > > > > information about his grandfather's life, was the reason
> > > >Ayden now sat in
> > > > > his father's study. He found more, he thought, than his
> > > >father knew about
> > > > > though.
> > > > > "So what's next?" Salma asked. Salma lived across the hall
> > > >from Ayden in
> > > > > his building. They had become friends, and Salma now was helping him
> > > > > research his grandfather's life. Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden
> > > > > said, "I'm not sure. This
> > > >letter says a
> > > > > lot."
> > > > > Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > >evidence, even if
> > > > > circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it, she
> > > >could have killed
> > > > > Henry.
> > > > > There was a pause then paper crackled before Salma spoke.
> > > >"It's pretty
> > > > > clear from this letter that your grandfather was having an
> > > >affair. I wonder
> > > > > if we can figure out these initials, A. W."
> > > > > Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone he
> > > >had ever met with
> > > > > A. W. for initials. "I don't know," he sighed.
> > > > > As Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they
> > > >had found an old
> > > > > copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry
> > > >had given the
> > > > > third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat
> > > >unwrapping the gift,
> > > > > then exclaimed, "Oh," before looking up with tears in her
> > > >eyes. Wuthering
> > > > > Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had been
> > > >the one person to
> > > > > encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up writing
> > > >instead of joining
> > > > > the family law firm. "You're meant to follow your own path,"
> > > >Lucy had told
> > > > > Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and Salma found a
> > > >letter enclosed in
> > > > > the pages of the book.
> > > > > Ayden touched the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it
> > > >out to Salma
> > > > > to inspect. She told him the letter appeared old, but not as
> > > >old as the
> > > > > book. A few of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The
> > > >
> > > > > letter was simple as she read: Henry, my love,
> > > > > I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you
> > > >coming down the
> > > > > road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much
> > > >longer must we
> > > > > wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too late.
> > > > > Love, A. W. "What now? Where do we go next?" Salma asked.
> > > > > Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. "We
> > > >visit the old
> > > > > Templeton mansion."
> > > > > The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry and Lucy
> > > >had lived in for
> > > > > years. The family still owned it, but it had sat empty for
> > > >years. Ayden
> > > > > thought that maybe more secrets were hidden within the walls of the
> > > > > Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as
> > > >Ayden's fingers slid
> > > > > across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes,
> > > >Ayden wondered
> > > > > where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > >grandparents and
> > > > > father had grown up. Henry had started a small law firm in town, but
> > > > > eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when Nick had
> > > >been ten. Nick
> > > > > never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden really didn't
> > > >know much about
> > > > > his family's past. Lucy and Henry had moved back to their
> > > >old house once
> > > > > Nick took the firm over, but Ayden had rarely visited the
> > > >home. After Henry
> > > > > had died, Lucy, unable to cope with his death, had moved into
> > > >an upscale
> > > > > nursing home in the City, and Nick left the house untouched.
> > > >The house had
> > > > > sat empty now for ten years.
> > > > > As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. "Are we there?" "Yes.
> > > > > What's our first stop?" "I'm figuring this out as we go along. I
> > > > > guess the police station." Salma was silent before saying, "You okay?
> > > >
> > > > > I know your dad
> > > >wasn't happy."
> > > > > Ayden had questioned his father about the letter, but Nick
> > > >had gone quiet
> > > > > and cold before telling Ayden, "Leave it alone. We don't dig
> > > >up family
> > > > > history."
> > > > > Ayden tried to coax Nick to say more, but the subject was closed.
> > > > > "Yeah. I wish he would have told us more. Explained
> > > >something," Ayden
> > > > > said.
> > > > > "Maybe he just wants to keep your family secrets, well,
> > > >secret. Some people
> > > > > don't like giving out info about anything."
> > > > > "I just feel like he knows more than he's letting on. Mom
> > > >just played dumb
> > > > > too."
> > > > > "We'll find something. Don't worry."
> > > > > Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant
> > > >in his life.
> > > > > The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day,
> > > >knocking on his
> > > > > door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home
> > > >made enchiladas.
> > > > > That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > > >
> > > > > nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > > >
> > > > > Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world.
> > > >Once moving
> > > > > away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > >showed up to the
> > > > > office for work, attended cocktail parties required for work
> > > >and even dated
> > > > > a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he truly felt
> > > >comfortable
> > > > > with. Her infectious way of always looking at things
> > > >positively seemed like
> > > > > a novelty to Ayden. She could always make him smile. When
> > > >he began writing
> > > > > the book about Henry, Salma had offered to assist in anyway she could.
> > > >
> > > > > "I'm really glad you're here," Ayden said.
> > > > >
> > > > > "Yeah, yeah. I'm waiting for my pay check." Salma giggled
> > > >as she pulled
> > > > > into a parking stall. "I think we're here."
> > > > > While Salma dropped coins into the parking meter, Ayden
> > > >tapped his cane
> > > > > along the brick walls looking for the door. Hearing the
> > > >clink of glass as
> > > > > his cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door.
> > > > > "No Braille, is this it?" he shouted back to Salma.
> > > > > "I believe so," she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > > > They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the
> > > >police station.
> > > > > Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one
> > > >pressed keys on a
> > > > > computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > >thought, must be a
> > > > > reception desk.
> > > > > Stepping up to a smooth feeling counter, Ayden said, "Excuse me." "Can
> > > >
> > > > > I help you?" a woman's bored voice said. "We were wondering if we can
> > > > > speak to some one who worked the Henry Templeton case," Ayden said.
> > > > > The woman stopped typing and a long silence followed. "Who's
> > > > asking?"
> > > > > "I'm Ayden Templeton, Henry's grandson."
> > > > > "One minute." A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > >clacked as she
> > > > > walked away.
> > > > > Salma touched Ayden's arm. "She had a weird look when you
> > > >mentioned your
> > > > > grandpa's name."
> > > > > Ayden said nothing, not sure what he was doing there in the
> > > >first place.
> > > > > The woman's shoes clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep
> > > >
> > > > > joined hers, but this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled
> > > > > towards Salma, saying, "Hello. I'm
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > > How can I help you?"
> > > > > Ayden stepped closer towards Salma, extending his arm to
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > > "I'm Ayden Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some
> > > >questions about
> > > > > my grandfather's death."
> > > > > There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook Ayden's hand.
> > > >"Step into my
> > > > > office please."
> > > > > Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > > > department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame,
> > > >indicating the
> > > > > width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame.
> > > >Ayden asked
> > > > > where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins
> > > >indicated.
> > > > > Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane
> > > >across the seat,
> > > > > Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma's
> > > >arm brushed his
> > > > > as she sat next to him.
> > > > > "Can I get you anything?" Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > > "No, but thank you. Salma?"
> > > > > "I'm good," Salma replied.
> > > > > Ayden felt a tension fill the room as the three sat there,
> > > >not speaking.
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins began tapping the edge of the metal table in the
> > > > > interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his
> > > >fingers. Salma
> > > > > bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden's shin. "We're hoping
> > > > > to learn as much as we can about Henry
> > > >Templeton's death. I'm
> > > > > researching the story for a novel I'm working on," Ayden started. "I
> > > > > worked the case. There's not much to tell," Sheriff Jenkins said. "I
> > > > > know you eventually reported it as an accidental death,
> > > >but was there
> > > > > ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > "No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > >reason to believe
> > > > > Henry Templeton was murdered," Sheriff Jenkins said sharply. Ayden
> > > > > shifted his head towards Salma before saying, "I know there
> > > > > was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it." "Lucy Baldwin?
> > > > > She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked
> > > >when she married
> > > > > Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted."
> > > > > Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > >
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch? You
> > > >know, a lawyer from
> > > > > a wealthy family."
> > > > > "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > > > "Who did you question about his death?" Salma broke in.
> > > > > The sheriff's chair creaked as he leaned back. "Well, of
> > > >course Lucy and
> > > > > her boy Nick. They were there. Found his body and all." Ayden shot
> > > > > the sheriff a questioning glance. He was talking
> > > >like he had
> > > > > forgot who Ayden was.
> > > > > "Then there was Zelda, the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he
> > > >came around
> > > > > about once a week to help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her
> > > >garden. Her
> > > > > roses won prizes around here," Sheriff Jenkins continued. "Anyone
> > > > > else?" Ayden asked. "Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so
> > > >
> > > > > they
> > > >didn't see much of
> > > > > him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal
> > > >secretary for years.
> > > > > She still did stuff part-time for Henry."
> > > > > Ayden had pulled out a three-by-five plastic device that had
> > > >six rows of
> > > > > cells containing three holes on each side of the cells. A
> > > >pop-pop-pop sound
> > > > > was made as Ayden poked a pointed awl-like object called a
> > > >stylus through
> > > > > the holes as he took Braille notes. "Are any of these people
> > > >still around?"
> > > > > "Not everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton's
> > > >to leave town.
> > > > > Other than Henry's work associates, I think most of them
> > > >still live around
> > > > > here. At least the one's who are still alive."
> > > > > "Is there anything else you can tell us? Was there anything
> > > >strange you
> > > > > noticed? Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental
> > > >
> > > > > tumble down the stairs?" The sheriff laughed. "I know you city folk
> > > > > like to dream up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry
> > > > > Templeton's death was
> > > >nothing more than
> > > > > an accident. Nothing dark about it."
> > > > > "Thank you for your time," Ayden said extending his hand
> > > >again to shake
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins's.
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins sighed. "Look, don't go digging anything up.
> > > > Just let the
> > > > > dead rest."
> > > > > Salma's bracelet tinkled as they stood.
> > > > > "We understand. I'm just trying to find things out about my
> > > >grandfather for
> > > > > the book. You know, no stone uncovered," Ayden said.
> > > > > "Are you two married?" Sheriff Jenkins asked.
> > > > > Ayden, confused by the switch, replied, "No."
> > > > > The sheriff chuckled. "Like your grandpa, I see."
> > > > > Ayden blushed, but Salma said, "Ayden is nothing but a
> > > >gentleman. Clearly
> > > > > something he did not pick up in this town."
> > > > > "I know the kind of men the Templeton's are," the sheriff said. Unsure
> > > >
> > > > > of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. "At least he has a better chance
> > > >
> > > > > of touching what you have
> > > >been admiring
> > > > > this whole time," Salma snapped. She turned quickly and
> > > >Ayden felt a rush
> > > > > of breeze as she left the room.
> > > > >
> > > > > Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > > > "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."
> > > > > "It's okay. He was a pig."
> > > > > "I didn't realize-"
> > > > > "I know, its okay. Where to next?"
> > > > > Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. "The house, I
> > > >
> > > > > guess." As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > >Ayden wondered
> > > > > why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it simply
> > > >said in a
> > > > > moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words, he
> > > >thought. He has a
> > > > > better chance of touching what you have been admiring. For
> > > >the first time,
> > > > > Ayden thought of the possibilities with Salma.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it
> > > >had been during
> > > > > the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house
> > > >had always stood
> > > > > out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses complete with
> > > > > emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton house had a
> > > > > wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a large lawn
> > > >
> > > > > complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > >majestically
> > > > > towards the sky.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house.
> > > >The feel of the
> > > > > railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark
> > > >wooden banister.
> > > > > The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the
> > > >porch, he felt a
> > > > > slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of falling through the
> > > >
> > > > > porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly drove down
> > > >the street, but
> > > > > a strange silence surrounded the house. It was as though Ayden were
> > > > > underneath water trying to make out the distant sounds. The scent of
> > > > > jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma stood next to him.
> > > > > "How does it look?" Ayden asked ignoring the scent. Salma took a deep
> > > > > breath. "It's run down, that's for sure.
> > > >I can't believe
> > > > > no one has lived here for years."
> > > > > "My family still owns it, but after my grandfather's death,
> > > >no one wanted to
> > > > > do anything about it."
> > > > > Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated
> > > >Victorian house.
> > > > > He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his father's
> > > > > office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet
> > > >click was heard.
> > > > > Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in Salma's
> > > >direction before
> > > > > stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house engulfed all
> > > >sound like a
> > > > > tomb.
> > > > > "Creepy," Salma said as she shivered.
> > > > > Ayden walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide
> > > >so as to not
> > > > > run into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as
> > > >he inhaled.
> > > > > "This has been sitting for years," Ayden rasped. "What's it
> > > >look like?"
> > > > > Salma looked around. "It's really dark, but it's almost
> > > >completely empty.
> > > > > What do you think you'll find?"
> > > > > "I'm not sure. Sheriff Jenkins wasn't much help. I just
> > > >thought, maybe
> > > > > something."
> > > > > Salma's sandals clipped-clopped as she walked over to a
> > > >window to open it.
> > > > > "Well, if we are going to be here long we need fresh air." Ayden felt
> > > > > a rush of summer breeze as the window clambered
> > > >up. The sound of
> > > > > kids jumping rope ruined the house's stolid silence. Life
> > > >entered the house
> > > > > again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma
> > > > > clumped up the stairs as Ayden moved from room to room
> > > >feeling walls
> > > > > and any remaining furniture, hoping to find something,
> > > >anything. He rifled
> > > > > through drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only
> > > >found dust and
> > > > > cobwebs.
> > > > > "Ayden, Ayden!" Salma shouted a couple of hours later.
> > > > > Ayden hurried towards the staircase. "Salma! Are you okay?" "Get up
> > > > > here! I found something!" Ayden clambered up the grand staircase.
> > > > > Reaching the top, he
> > > >shouted, "What
> > > > > room?"
> > > > > "Um, it's a bedroom."
> > > > > Hearing her voice off to his left, Ayden moved down the
> > > >hallway. At the
> > > > > end, he found a door open.
> > > > > "Salma?"
> > > > > Salma's clapping sandals moved towards Ayden.
> > > > > "Look at this," she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and
> > > >paper crackled
> > > > > as she shoved something in Ayden's hand.
> > > > > Ayden grinned. "Um." He handed the paper back to Salma. "Oh-sorry.
> > > > > I just-you won't believe this." It was another letter; a love letter
> > > > > to Henry. Henry, My love,
> > > > > I miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited
> > > >years to be with
> > > > > you, really be with you. Let's stop the pretending, stop the
> > > >lies. Don't
> > > > > be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop hiding.
> > > >
> > > > > There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > >don't take
> > > > > long.
> > > > > Love,
> > > > > A. W.
> > > > > Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden
> > > >was not quite
> > > > > sure what her excitement was for.
> > > > > "We already know Henry was having an affair of sorts," he said. Salma
> > > > > sighed impatiently. "Ayden, think about it. Don't you see?" "Not
> > > > > really," he said slowly. She grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers
> > > > > gripped him with
> > > >a strength
> > > > > Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and
> > > >once again, Ayden
> > > > > took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something
> > > >else with it.
> > > > > Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing
> > > >him back to
> > > > > attention.
> > > > > "Ayden, A. W. Don't you see it yet?"
> > > > > "A. W.?"
> > > > > "The initials," she said exasperated, "A. W. Alice Whitley." "Who's
> > > > > Alice Whitley?" Salma smacked her forehead. "Ay-where are your notes
> > > > > from today?" Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his
> > > > > back pocket. "Now read through it," Salma said as though talking to a
> > > > > small child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked
> > > > > sharply
> > > >up at Salma.
> > > > > "See?" Salma asked.
> > > > > "I can't believe we didn't realize it then. His secretary.
> > > >And Sheriff
> > > > > Jenkins said she's still living in town."
> > > > > "Think we can find her?"
> > > > > "Give me a minute," Ayden said reaching for his mobile phone
> > > >tucked away in
> > > > > his pocket.
> > > > > An electronic hum came from his phone as he maneuvered
> > > >through the menus on
> > > > > his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile
> > > >phones, helped Ayden
> > > > > utilize the functions on his phone.
> > > > > "Got it. There's only one Alice Whitley that shows up in town."
> > > > > "Thank God for technology," Salma said. "No wonder no one
> > > >could ever solve
> > > > > this case."
> > > > > Ayden smirked at her. "Thank God for accessible technology.
> > > >Come on. She
> > > > > doesn't live far from here and it's not too late."
> > > > >
> > > > > Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The
> > > >house was less
> > > > > substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > >well-kempt
> > > > > lawn and cheery exterior.
> > > > > The door opened and a woman's voice gasped, "Oh."
> > > > > "Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-"
> > > > > "Templeton," she said. "You look like Henry."
> > > > > Smiling, Ayden said, "Miss Whitley, this is my friend Salma.
> > > >We're working
> > > > > on a book about my grandfather, and we would like to ask you some
> > > > > questions." "Oh, of course. Come in, come in."
> > > > > As the door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower
> > > >scent that he
> > > > > couldn't place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley
> > > >ushered them into a
> > > > > sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on
> > > >the soft couch
> > > > > while Alice sat across from them.
> > > > > "Can I offer you anything? I just made lemonade."
> > > > > "That would be wonderful," Salma said.
> > > > > As Alice left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. "I'm
> > > >sorry, I didn't
> > > > > even think to ask if you were hungry."
> > > > > "Hon, it's okay. I didn't think about it myself until now." "We'll
> > > > > have dinner after this; I promise." "Promise?"
> > > > > Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > >glass in Ayden's
> > > > > hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp. The
> > > >cold liquid felt
> > > > > good down his throat after the dust of his family's house.
> > > >He could only
> > > > > imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt the mingled
> > > >grime of sweat
> > > > > and dirt on his body. Why had it not occurred to them to
> > > >stop somewhere
> > > > > first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > > > "So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I
> > > >miss him. You
> > > > > must call me Alice."
> > > > > "Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in his death,"
> > > >Ayden said.
> > > > > Alice choked on her lemonade. "Why would you be interested in that?"
> > > > > "I believe that maybe his death wasn't accidental." "Oh dear, don't
> > > > > buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a thorough
> > > > > investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at." "And yet the
> > > > > rumors persist," Ayden said. "Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > > > there minds." "You know Sheriff Jenkins?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > "Darling, it's a town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody."
> > > > > Ayden sipped on his lemonade as Salma clicked her nails
> > > >against the side of
> > > > > her glass.
> > > > > "We have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story,"
> > > >Ayden said.
> > > > > He affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his
> > > >father like this
> > > > > hundreds of times.
> > > > > Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her voice had
> > > >lost some of
> > > > > its cheeriness when she responded by asking, "What makes you
> > > >say that?"
> > > > > Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He removed the
> > > >Braille label,
> > > > > setting the letter on the coffee table dividing Ayden and
> > > >Salma from Alice.
> > > > > The room grew still. The letter rustled as Alice picked it
> > > >up. When she
> > > > > spoke, she sounded choked as though she were holding back tears.
> > > > > "Where did you find this?" "It was in some old boxes in the Templeton
> > > > > home," Salma said. A long silence followed in which Ayden could hear
> > > > > Alice sniffling. "I suppose the truth has to come out sooner or
> > > > > later," Alice
> > > >said quietly.
> > > > > "We don't need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason
> > > >to think Henry
> > > > > was killed?" Ayden soothed.
> > > > > "Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen," Alice began, ignoring
> > > >
> > > > > Ayden. "I instantly fell in love with him, but he was that
> > > >type. Dashingly
> > > > > handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few years older than
> > > >me, but I knew
> > > > > how all the girls waited for their chance to rope Henry into
> > > >marriage. I
> > > > > felt so lucky to see him everyday. I started out as a simple
> > > >receptionist,
> > > > > but eventually he promoted me to his personal secretary." "Did you
> > > > > move with my grandparents then, when they moved?"
> > > >Ayden asked.
> > > > > Alice sighed. "Yes, but after-things happened-I moved back.
> > > >I remained in
> > > > > his employ, working from the office here in town. Before
> > > >your father took
> > > > > charge, Henry's headquarters had always been based from here." Ayden
> > > > > nodded his head. "I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened.
> > > > > Henry loved
> > > >us both, Lucy
> > > > > and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > >up with that
> > > > > smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I should've
> > > >known better,
> > > > > but I was in love."
> > > > > Alice continued to spill her story, hoping for redemption perhaps.
> > > > > "The final straw came right before his death. We had carried
> > > >on for almost
> > > > > forty-years and I knew it had to stop. We fought. I
> > > >threatened to tell
> > > > > Lucy and that was that. He left me promising to choose. I
> > > >waited for an
> > > > > answer, but a week later, Henry was found dead."
> > > > > "Did you ever tell anyone?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > "No."
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice's house. A
> > > >breeze tousled
> > > > > Ayden's hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > >dark tresses.
> > > > > "Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible," she said
> > > >teasingly.
> > > > > Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > >before he could
> > > > > make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He slid into the
> > > > > passenger seat, heart pounding. "You promised me dinner," Salma whined
> > > >
> > > > > playfully.
> > > > >
> > > > > After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and
> > > >Salma found
> > > > > themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up
> > > >with Ayden's
> > > > > stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. "Sometimes I think
> > > >
> > > > > it would be nice to live in a small town,"
> > > >Salma mused.
> > > > > "Really, you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day," Ayden joked.
> > > > > "I could drive to the city. I don't know. It seems like a
> > > >nice place to
> > > > > raise a family."
> > > > > Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > >well as he
> > > > > knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > >learn about Salma.
> > > > > "Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow up to
> > > >cheat, lie and
> > > > > murder," Ayden scoffed.
> > > > > "We, huh?"
> > > > > Ayden blushed, feeling the heat creep up his neck to his
> > > >face. He hadn't
> > > > > caught his blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make
> > > >sense of his
> > > > > words, Salma grabbed his hand.
> > > > > "Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion," she said.
> > > > > They walked silently back to the car.
> > > > > "It's pretty late, what should we do?" Salma asked.
> > > > > Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch up. Feeling the
> > > >raised dots and
> > > > > arrows with his pointer finger on his Braille watch, he said, "It's a
> > > > > quarter to eleven. I'm beat." "Me too. I don't really feel like
> > > > > driving back tonight though." Ayden scratched his head. "I guess we
> > > > > can stay at casa-de-Templeton." "Okay, but no funny business," Salma
> > > > > joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, "By the way, unlike some men
> > > >in my family,
> > > > > I'm more of a one-woman type."
> > > > >
> > > > > They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > > > "Sure you don't want to sleep in another room?" Ayden asked. "Hell no!
> > > >
> > > > > This house is creepy." "I thought you wanted to raise children here?"
> > > > > "Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?" The bed creaked as
> > > >Salma lay down
> > > > > on it. "A bit musty."
> > > > > They had found spare bed linens in a box and had attempted to
> > > >shake them out
> > > > > as best they could. Ayden had noticed a lingering wispy
> > > >scent of flowers
> > > > > that he could not place. It may have been the remnants of
> > > >something used to
> > > > > launder the linens years ago, he had thought.
> > > > > Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > >Salma. "Here.
> > > > > You can wrap your pillow in it."
> > > > > "Thanks," Salma said drawing the word out.
> > > > > Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for the millionth
> > > >time that day.
> > > > > Not able to turn back what he had done, Ayden lay slowly
> > > >down, sticking
> > > > > close to the edge.
> > > > > "Keep your hands above the blankets," Salma yawned.
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly
> > > >dawned as he felt
> > > > > Salma's small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and Ayden
> > > > > smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself
> > > >gently from the
> > > > > bed, trying to not wake Salma.
> > > > > He needed to use the bathroom, but it struck him that the
> > > >bathrooms would
> > > > > not be in working order. It was primitive, but it would have
> > > >to do, he
> > > > > thought as he found his way downstairs and out into the back
> > > >garden. Hoping
> > > > > no neighbors were awake to see him, he relieved himself.
> > > > > Half asleep still, his eyes snapped open as a slight shuffle came from
> > > >
> > > > > behind him. Finished with his midnight chore, he listened
> > > >intently, but no
> > > > > sound came again. He turned around, gripping his cane in one hand.
> > > > > "Hello," he said. No response came. He turned back towards the house
> > > > > and as he
> > > >walked, Ayden
> > > > > felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > > > terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult
> > > >now, he chided
> > > > > himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house,
> > > >he reached the
> > > > > French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > >soft shuffle
> > > > > started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > >dead foliage
> > > > > rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > >doorway again. The
> > > > > noise instantly stopped.
> > > > > Slamming the door and locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs,
> > > >taking three
> > > > > steps at a time. Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears,
> > > >Ayden felt a
> > > > > cool breeze cut through the stuffy air of the bedroom.
> > > >DeMint, he swore to
> > > > > himself. They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping
> > > >to air out
> > > > > their lodgings for the night.
> > > > > Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed. He sat on
> > > >the bed resting
> > > > > his head on the large carved headboard, listening.
> > > > > Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > >trees from
> > > > > time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed around the
> > > >
> > > > > house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a step on the
> > > > > stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > >of vigilante
> > > > > guarding.
> > > > > Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his head, he
> > > >smiled when Salma
> > > > > threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only of Salma by
> > > >now, Ayden drifted
> > > > > back off to sleep.
> > > > >
> > > > > The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > >
> > > > > right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but
> > > >an acrid odor
> > > > > filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. "Salma!
> > > > > There's a fire!" He shook her until she woke up. "We need to get out
> > > > > of here," Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state.
> > > > > Ayden flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made
> > > >his eyes water.
> > > > > "Salma, I can't tell if we can make it down the stairs." Standing
> > > > > next to him, she said, "All I can see is smoke. Can
> > > >we jump out
> > > > > the window?"
> > > > > "We're on the second floor. It's pretty high up."
> > > > > Now across the room, Ayden heard Salma cry, "Oh-my-god! Ayden!"
> > > > > "What?" "I can see flames around the base of the house."
> > > > > "Shit." Trying to think, Ayden gathered up the sheet from
> > > >the bed. Dousing
> > > > > it with water from the couple bottles purchased last night,
> > > >he threw the
> > > > > sheet at Salma. "Wrap yourself in this."
> > > > > "Why?"
> > > > > "Just do it."
> > > > > Making sure her long hair was covered, Ayden threw Salma over
> > > >his shoulder.
> > > > > Grabbing his cane by the door, he moved into the hallway.
> > > >Hoping the shirt
> > > > > tied around his face would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the
> > > >
> > > > > stairs. Despite the situation, Ayden could not help notice the
> > > > > harlequin-romance-like predicament. He heard Salma say something, but
> > > > > her face was muffled and he
> > > >could not
> > > > > understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > >groped the banister
> > > > > which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the bottom, he
> > > >found his way to
> > > > > the front door and opened it. A rush of fresh air greeted
> > > >him. Feeling
> > > > > heat, he hoped he could make it off the porch. At the top of
> > > >the stairs,
> > > > > panicked, he placed Salma upright again. She struggled to
> > > >loosen the sheet
> > > > > around her.
> > > > > "Are the flames here too?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > "No, but there coming from behind."
> > > > > At the end of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone.
> > > >Neighbors could be
> > > > > heard coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden
> > > >and Salma asking
> > > > > if they were okay.
> > > > > Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of flames.
> > > >Salma held his
> > > > > hand as they waited in silence for the sound of sirens.
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins's police
> > > >cruiser. The
> > > > > mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket
> > > >draped his
> > > > > shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could
> > > >still smell
> > > > > the smoke embracing his body.
> > > > > Once the firemen had extinguished the fire, Sheriff Jenkins
> > > >and his deputy,
> > > > > a man about Ayden's age, drove Salma and Ayden to the police
> > > >station. Each
> > > > > gave a report before Nick was contacted.
> > > > > Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > >gulped the cool
> > > > > liquid down as Salma rested her head against his shoulder.
> > > >Sniffing her
> > > > > hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden protectively
> > > >placed an arm
> > > > > around her.
> > > > > "Ayden," Salma said in quiet surprise, "Alice Whitley is here." Ayden
> > > > > pulled the blanket closed as he waited for Alice to
> > > >approach. A new
> > > > > scent filled his nostrils. This too smelled of flowers, but
> > > >it was not the
> > > > > framiliar jasmine and vanilla Salma wore. Through the fog of
> > > >his brain, he
> > > > > tried to place where he had smelled this scent before.
> > > > > "I'm glad you two are alright," Alice spoke quietly. "I
> > > >can't believe this.
> > > > > Do you need anything?"
> > > > > "Thank you, but we're okay," Salma said warmly.
> > > > > "Pete phoned me this morning-"
> > > > > "Sheriff Jenkins? Why?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > Alice didn't respond.
> > > > > Waiting for an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower
> > > >scent that had
> > > > > lingered in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens.
> > > > > "Alice, did you visit the house after we left you yesterday?" Alice
> > > > > made a noise as though she were suppressing it in her
> > > >throat. She
> > > > > never answered and before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her
> > > > > muffled footsteps on the grass as she walked briskly away. "Ayden?"
> > > > > Salma puzzled. "Her perfume, it's the same smell I noticed in the
> > > > > closet last night." "Ayden, that's where I found the letter too,"
> > > > > Salma whispered." Ayden heard the swish of grass as someone else
> > > > > walked towards
> > > >them. It was
> > > > > Nick.
> > > > > "Are you crazy?" Nick asked, bewildered.
> > > > > "I'm fine. Nice to see you too, Dad."
> > > > > Nick let out a long breath before saying, "Your mother and I
> > > >went crazy when
> > > > > we heard what happened. We're glad you're okay."
> > > > > "Is the house ruined?" Ayden asked.
> > > > > Salma shifted and sat upright next to Ayden.
> > > > > "It's mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > >to the house."
> > > > > Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy's
> > > >favorite place.
> > > > > Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall bushes
> > > >as Lucy tended
> > > > > to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his thoughts, Ayden
> > > >heard a shuffling
> > > > > footstep approach. Another memory pushed itself front and
> > > >center in his
> > > > > mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped his pace, Ayden gave him a
> > > >hard look.
> > > > > "Tom says it will take a few weeks to get reports back, but
> > > >there is some
> > > > > structural damage to the house, Nick," the sheriff said. "Taken any
> > > > > midnight strolls to clear your mind lately?" Ayden
> > > >directed to
> > > > > Sheriff Jenkins.
> > > > > No one spoke. Salma gripped his hand.
> > > > > "Any reason why you'd call Alice Whitley early this morning?" Ayden
> > > > > continued. "Drop it," Nick hissed at Ayden.
> > > > > Thrown off by Nick's tone, Ayden squeezed Salma's hand,
> > > >unsure what to do.
> > > > > "I'm sure we're all tired and need to collect our thoughts,"
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins
> > > > > said. "Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick." Ayden
> > > >heard the
> > > > > lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the
> > > >speakers as
> > > > > JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command
> > > >Ayden typed.
> > > > > "Still working?" Salma asked from behind.
> > > > > Ayden leaned his head back against her stomach. She was
> > > >wrapped in a large
> > > > > soft towel. He slipped his hand through the folds, but she
> > > >turned swiftly
> > > > > away, laughing.
> > > > > Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. "That
> > > >just turns me on
> > > > > more."
> > > > > "I called you a great big moron whose brain is the size of his-"
> > > > > "Doesn't matter. Still sounds sexy." Salma whipped another towel at
> > > > > him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to his work, Ayden
> > > > > decided to check his email. As he clicked on the necessary links using
> > > >
> > > > > Hotkey commands,
> > > >he thought over
> > > > > the past few weeks.
> > > > > Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > >everything was
> > > > > circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > >opened something
> > > > > up. Something that had been meant to remain secret. Nick
> > > >refused to open
> > > > > any investigation and he remained tight-lipped about anything he knew.
> > > >
> > > > > The fire was officially reported as an unknown accident since
> > > >no evidence,
> > > > > either way, had been found determining a cause. This, at
> > > >least, was how the
> > > > > police report read. Ayden, though, had inquired into the fire-chief's
> > > >
> > > > > report. It too was inconclusive, but this report did mention
> > > >that a match
> > > > > book had been found near the premises. Salma had advised
> > > >Ayden to wait
> > > > > before attempting any further investigation.
> > > > > Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks slip by without
> > > >
> > > > > searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > >city, Ayden had
> > > > > found the courage to express his budding feelings towards Salma. They
> > > > > had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night for
> > > >them, except
> > > > > this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation between
> > > >them. Salma had
> > > > > stood to get another beer from the kitchen when Ayden reached
> > > >for her wrist.
> > > > > His large palm had felt bigger next to her slim wrist. Both
> > > >had stared
> > > > > silently at one another. Ayden, thinking he would win this
> > > >game since he
> > > > > couldn't see, broke first. Grinning with a smirk, he had
> > > >pulled Salma to
> > > > > him and kissed her.
> > > > > Three weeks later, their routine was continued as normal, yet
> > > >something was
> > > > > different. They had transitioned into this new element with
> > > >ease, as though
> > > > > it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by
> > > >the new romance.
> > > > > Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given for
> > > >the first
> > > > > email he came across. Opening it up, he read the following: Your
> > > > > journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you stop your
> > > > > investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only
> > > >befall you. Thank
> > > > > your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new love. There
> > > > > was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From
> > > >field, but the only
> > > > > information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > >Ayden's pulse
> > > > > quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room, he
> > > >closed the
> > > > > window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her just yet.
> > > > > Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > >Ayden knew this
> > > > > was just the beginning.
> > > > >
> > > > > _______________________________________________
> > > > > Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > ><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > > >
> > > > > stylist mailing list
> > > > > stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > > > http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > > > To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> > > > > stylist:
> > > > >
> > > >http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/priscil
> > > >la.mckinley%40gmail.com
> > > > >
> > > >
> > > >_______________________________________________
> > > >Writers Division web site:
> > > >http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > ><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > >
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> > > >o%40gmail.com
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 4
> > > >Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 07:57:43 -0500
> > > >From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
> > > >To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >Message-ID: <000801cb66e8$65d00ad0$31702070$@cox.net>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"
> > > >
> > > >Bridget
> > > >
> > > >A good story! I like the blindness descriptors. And that scene and lines
> > > >that you had Salma use while in the office of the sheriff,
> > > >"At least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > >this whole time," Salma snapped.
> > > >
> > > >And yeah, I read the comments of Priscilla and Joe and I can see that
> > > >their observations would only enhance the story.
> > > >Thanks for sharing!
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >-----Original Message-----
> > > >From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
> > > >Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
> > > >Sent: Thursday, October 07, 2010 9:06 PM
> > > >To: writers division
> > > >Subject: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > >language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Hey guys,
> > > >
> > > >I'm taking a detective fiction class this semester for an upper lit
> > > >credit. We had to write detective shorts and I thought I would share
> > > >mine with you. Keep in mind that this is not my genre and also, I wrote
> > > >it in about a 12-our time span. Yes, I'm a procrastinator! *smile*
> > > >
> > > >It was fun though so enjoy.
> > > >
> > > >Bridgit P
> > > >
> > > >Sense of Murder
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in his father's leather wingback chair rolling a large key
> > > >between his fingers. The metal key had been cold, but now was warmed by
> > > >his hands. He gripped the key in his palm and rubbed a thumb across the
> > > >rough , rusty surface. Three weeks ago, Ayden had merely been
> > > >researching the mysterious death of his grandfather for a book he was
> > > >writing. Now, he sat among items wondering if his grandfather had been
> > > >murdered. Ayden's father, Nick, had found Henry, his grandfather, lying
> > > >at the bottom of the staircase in his home. Nick never spoke about the
> > > >incident after reporting it to the police. He would not speak to Ayden
> > > >about Henry's death either, but he was allowing Ayden and Salma to
> > > >search through any items Nick kept. No one had been sure what happened.
> > > >Lucy, Ayden's grandmother, had been present too when Henry's body was
> > > >found. The police recorded the death as an accidental fall. Many
> > > >silently pointed fingers at Lucy though. Lucy had grown distraught
> > > >during the past few months before Henry's death. Friends and family
> > > >reported that she had been distracted often or in an irritated mood.
> > > >This was unlike the warm and tender grandmother Ayden had grown up with.
> > > >When Nick found his father's body, Lucy had gone wild, screaming, unable
> > > >to leave Henry's lifeless body. Eventually Nick placed her in a care
> > > >home. Here Lucy had reached an almost catatonic state until she too had
> > > >passed. Gossips spread the news, sweeping far and wide. Lucy was crazy,
> > > >they said. She went mad, she killed her husband. It was juicy, just
> > > >what a small town needed. The police never looked into the possibility,
> > > >but Lucy died with a scarlet letter attached to her memory. Ayden could
> > > >never believe that Lucy would hurt anyone. Lucy had been fond of Ayden,
> > > >guiding him, encouraging him. "You're so full of potential, Ayden. I
> > > >can see fire in your eyes," she used to tell him. When Ayden lost his
> > > >vision, Lucy had been the one person who supported him, still
> > > >encouraging. For years, though, there had been whispers of foul play,
> > > >but no one ever spoke about the rumors. Vague insinuations were the
> > > >closest anyone came to mentioning "murder." Ayden, though, had never
> > > >played by the rules. His mother referred to him as the "black sheep of
> > > >the family" whenever she threw a dinner party. Ayden never felt like he
> > > >fit in his family's world of snobbish dinner parties, elite country
> > > >clubs and preferential treatment at most Ivy League universities. He
> > > >had already been a disappointment to his family before a car accident
> > > >left him blind. Seven-years later, Ayden had come to terms with his
> > > >blindness, but his family accepted him only out of duty. His father had
> > > >been clear when saying, "This condition of yours is not suitable for the
> > > >courtroom, but the firm can take you on in a capacity for research,
> > > >perhaps. Maybe a paralegal position will be suitable." Ayden was not
> > > >able to live with this attitude hanging over him. After completing his
> > > >bachelor's in literature, Ayden took up a career writing for any
> > > >newspapers or journals that accepted his entries. Writing for a small
> > > >literary journal allowed Ayden to work on his novel which had turned
> > > >into a fictionalized account of his grandfather's death. Asking his
> > > >father for any information about his grandfather's life, was the reason
> > > >Ayden now sat in his father's study. He found more, he thought, than
> > > >his father knew about though. "So what's next?" Salma asked. Salma
> > > >lived across the hall from Ayden in his building. They had become
> > > >friends, and Salma now was helping him research his grandfather's life.
> > > >Tapping the key in his palm, Ayden said, "I'm not sure. This letter
> > > >says a lot." Ayden closed his eyes thinking on this letter. It was
> > > >evidence, even if circumstantial, that suggested, if Lucy knew about it,
> > > >she could have killed Henry. There was a pause then paper crackled
> > > >before Salma spoke. "It's pretty clear from this letter that your
> > > >grandfather was having an affair. I wonder if we can figure out these
> > > >initials, A. W." Ayden shut his eyes thinking, trying to remember anyone
> > > >he had ever met with A. W. for initials. "I don't know," he sighed. As
> > > >Ayden and Salma leafed through pictures and notes, they had found an old
> > > >copy of Wuthering Heights. Ayden remembered the year Henry had given
> > > >the third edition book to Lucy for Christmas. Lucy had sat unwrapping
> > > >the gift, then exclaimed, "Oh," before looking up with tears in her
> > > >eyes. Wuthering Heights had always been her favorite novel. Lucy had
> > > >been the one person to encourage Ayden to follow his dream and take up
> > > >writing instead of joining the family law firm. "You're meant to follow
> > > >your own path," Lucy had told Ayden once. Twenty-years later, Ayden and
> > > >Salma found a letter enclosed in the pages of the book. Ayden touched
> > > >the thick, but stiff piece of paper and held it out to Salma to inspect.
> > > >She told him the letter appeared old, but not as old as the book. A few
> > > >of the torn edges of the letter were turning yellow. The letter was
> > > >simple as she read:
> > > >Henry, my love,
> > > >I can not wait to see you again. I hoped and when I saw you coming down
> > > >the road, my heart leaped. I still feel your touch. How much longer
> > > >must we wait? Please, my darling, give me what I ask before it is too
> > > >late.
> > > >Love, A. W.
> > > >"What now? Where do we go next?" Salma asked.
> > > >Ayden held the rusted, copper key up in front of him. "We visit the old
> > > >Templeton mansion." The Templeton mansion was the Victorian home Henry
> > > >and Lucy had lived in for years. The family still owned it, but it had
> > > >sat empty for years. Ayden thought that maybe more secrets were hidden
> > > >within the walls of the Templeton house, eager to be discovered.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in the car as Salma drove. Neither spoke as Ayden's fingers
> > > >slid across the pages on his lap. Reading his Braille notes, Ayden
> > > >wondered where to start once they reached the small town where his
> > > >grandparents and father had grown up. Henry had started a small law
> > > >firm in town, but eventually it grew. Henry and Lucy had moved when
> > > >Nick had been ten. Nick never spoke about his childhood though. Ayden
> > > >really didn't know much about his family's past. Lucy and Henry had
> > > >moved back to their old house once Nick took the firm over, but Ayden
> > > >had rarely visited the home. After Henry had died, Lucy, unable to cope
> > > >with his death, had moved into an upscale nursing home in the City, and
> > > >Nick left the house untouched. The house had sat empty now for ten
> > > >years. As the car slowed, Ayden looked up at Salma. "Are we there?"
> > > >"Yes. What's our first stop?" "I'm figuring this out as we go along.
> > > >I guess the police station." Salma was silent before saying, "You okay?
> > > >I know your dad wasn't happy." Ayden had questioned his father about the
> > > >letter, but Nick had gone quiet and cold before telling Ayden, "Leave it
> > > >alone. We don't dig up family history." Ayden tried to coax Nick to say
> > > >more, but the subject was closed. "Yeah. I wish he would have told us
> > > >more. Explained something," Ayden said. "Maybe he just wants to keep
> > > >your family secrets, well, secret. Some people don't like giving out
> > > >info about anything." "I just feel like he knows more than he's letting
> > > >on. Mom just played dumb too." "We'll find something. Don't worry."
> > > >Salma was always reassuring Ayden. She had become a constant in his
> > > >life. The only real constant he had. She had shown up one day, knocking
> > > >on his door, holding a dish in her hands, offering Ayden some home made
> > > >enchiladas. That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had
> > > >spent many nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on
> > > >weekends. Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world.
> > > >Once moving away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > >showed up to the office for work, attended cocktail parties required for
> > > >work and even dated a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he
> > > >truly felt comfortable with. Her infectious way of always looking at
> > > >things positively seemed like a novelty to Ayden. She could always make
> > > >him smile. When he began writing the book about Henry, Salma had
> > > >offered to assist in anyway she could. "I'm really glad you're here,"
> > > >Ayden said.
> > > >
> > > >"Yeah, yeah. I'm waiting for my pay check." Salma giggled as she
> > > >pulled into a parking stall. "I think we're here." While Salma dropped
> > > >coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane along the brick
> > > >walls looking for the door. Hearing the clink of glass as his cane
> > > >tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door. "No Braille, is this it?" he
> > > >shouted back to Salma. "I believe so," she answered rushing to catch up.
> > > >They entered the quiet, almost lazy-like atmosphere of the police
> > > >station. Ayden moved towards the sound of clacking as some one pressed
> > > >keys on a computer keyboard with a practiced efficiency. This, he
> > > >thought, must be a reception desk. Stepping up to a smooth feeling
> > > >counter, Ayden said, "Excuse me." "Can I help you?" a woman's bored
> > > >voice said. "We were wondering if we can speak to some one who worked
> > > >the Henry Templeton case," Ayden said. The woman stopped typing and a
> > > >long silence followed. "Who's asking?" "I'm Ayden Templeton, Henry's
> > > >grandson." "One minute." A chair creaked as the woman stood. Her shoes
> > > >clacked as she walked away. Salma touched Ayden's arm. "She had a weird
> > > >look when you mentioned your grandpa's name." Ayden said nothing, not
> > > >sure what he was doing there in the first place. The woman's shoes
> > > >clacked once more as she returned. Another footstep joined hers, but
> > > >this person shuffled slightly. The person shuffled towards Salma,
> > > >saying, "Hello. I'm Sheriff Jenkins. How can I help you?" Ayden stepped
> > > >closer towards Salma, extending his arm to Sheriff Jenkins. "I'm Ayden
> > > >Templeton and this is Salma Juarez. We have some questions about my
> > > >grandfather's death." There was a pause before Sheriff Jenkins shook
> > > >Ayden's hand. "Step into my office please." Ayden followed the sheriff
> > > >into a room off the main section of the department. His cane swep the
> > > >inside of the door frame, indicating the width so Ayden avoided bumping
> > > >into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked where a chair was and turned
> > > >in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated. Once again, his cane found
> > > >the chair and sliding the cane across the seat, Ayden determined where
> > > >the front of the chair was. Salma's arm brushed his as she sat next to
> > > >him. "Can I get you anything?" Sheriff Jenkins asked. "No, but thank
> > > >you. Salma?" "I'm good," Salma replied. Ayden felt a tension fill the
> > > >room as the three sat there, not speaking. Sheriff Jenkins began tapping
> > > >the edge of the metal table in the interrogation room. Ayden twisted
> > > >his cane between his fingers. Salma bobbed her foot which was lightly
> > > >kicking Ayden's shin. "We're hoping to learn as much as we can about
> > > >Henry Templeton's death. I'm researching the story for a novel I'm
> > > >working on," Ayden started. "I worked the case. There's not much to
> > > >tell," Sheriff Jenkins said. "I know you eventually reported it as an
> > > >accidental death, but was there ever any evidence suggesting otherwise?"
> > > >Ayden asked. "No. We questioned friends and family and there was no
> > > >reason to believe Henry Templeton was murdered," Sheriff Jenkins said
> > > >sharply. Ayden shifted his head towards Salma before saying, "I know
> > > >there was-uh-speculation that maybe my grandmother did it." "Lucy
> > > >Baldwin? She never hurt anyone. We were all shocked when she married
> > > >Henry. She could have had anyone she wanted." Ayden leaned against the
> > > >table looking straight in the direction where Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I
> > > >thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer from a wealthy family."
> > > >"He was a playboy. Always was, never changed." "Who did you question
> > > >about his death?" Salma broke in. The sheriff's chair creaked as he
> > > >leaned back. "Well, of course Lucy and her boy Nick. They were there.
> > > >Found his body and all." Ayden shot the sheriff a questioning glance.
> > > >He was talking like he had forgot who Ayden was. "Then there was Zelda,
> > > >the housekeeper, and Avery Mayer, he came around about once a week to
> > > >help Lucy with the lawn. She loved her garden. Her roses won prizes
> > > >around here," Sheriff Jenkins continued. "Anyone else?" Ayden asked.
> > > >"Oh, his work associates, but Henry was retired so they didn't see much
> > > >of him anymore. Alice Whitley, she had been his personal secretary for
> > > >years. She still did stuff part-time for Henry." Ayden had pulled out a
> > > >three-by-five plastic device that had six rows of cells containing three
> > > >holes on each side of the cells. A pop-pop-pop sound was made as Ayden
> > > >poked a pointed awl-like object called a stylus through the holes as he
> > > >took Braille notes. "Are any of these people still around?" "Not
> > > >everyone had the same opportunities as the Templeton's to leave town.
> > > >Other than Henry's work associates, I think most of them still live
> > > >around here. At least the one's who are still alive." "Is there
> > > >anything else you can tell us? Was there anything strange you noticed?
> > > >Any evidence that suggest something other than an accidental tumble down
> > > >the stairs?" The sheriff laughed. "I know you city folk like to dream
> > > >up seedy happenings in small towns, but Henry Templeton's death was
> > > >nothing more than an accident. Nothing dark about it." "Thank you for
> > > >your time," Ayden said extending his hand again to shake Sheriff
> > > >Jenkins's. Sheriff Jenkins sighed. "Look, don't go digging anything up.
> > > >Just let the dead rest." Salma's bracelet tinkled as they stood. "We
> > > >understand. I'm just trying to find things out about my grandfather for
> > > >the book. You know, no stone uncovered," Ayden said. "Are you two
> > > >married?" Sheriff Jenkins asked. Ayden, confused by the switch, replied,
> > > >"No." The sheriff chuckled. "Like your grandpa, I see." Ayden blushed,
> > > >but Salma said, "Ayden is nothing but a gentleman. Clearly something he
> > > >did not pick up in this town." "I know the kind of men the Templeton's
> > > >are," the sheriff said. Unsure of what to do, Ayden turned to leave. "At
> > > >least he has a better chance of touching what you have been admiring
> > > >this whole time," Salma snapped. She turned quickly and Ayden felt a
> > > >rush of breeze as she left the room.
> > > >
> > > >Out in the car, Ayden apologized.
> > > >"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."
> > > >"It's okay. He was a pig."
> > > >"I didn't realize-"
> > > >"I know, its okay. Where to next?"
> > > >Ayden could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone. "The house, I
> > > >guess." As Salma pulled back out into the street devoid of traffic,
> > > >Ayden wondered why she had told Sheriff Jenkins what she had. Was it
> > > >simply said in a moment of anger, or was there any truth in her words,
> > > >he thought. He has a better chance of touching what you have been
> > > >admiring. For the first time, Ayden thought of the possibilities with
> > > >Salma.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden stood before the house remembering the bright blue it had been
> > > >during the few visits he had made during his childhood. The house had
> > > >always stood out even among the street full of bright, cheery houses
> > > >complete with emerald lawns and award winning gardens. The Templeton
> > > >house had a wrap-around porch with a veranda to the back opening onto a
> > > >large lawn complete with a British garden. Its three stories reached
> > > >majestically towards the sky.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden now gripped the rough, wooden railing of the house. The feel of
> > > >the railing did not match his memory of the sleek, smooth dark wooden
> > > >banister. The stairs creaked as he stepped on them. Reaching the porch,
> > > >he felt a slight dip and quickly stepped sideways in fear of falling
> > > >through the porch. Children played nearby and cars languidly drove down
> > > >the street, but a strange silence surrounded the house. It was as
> > > >though Ayden were underneath water trying to make out the distant
> > > >sounds. The scent of jasmine passed briefly through his nose as Salma
> > > >stood next to him. "How does it look?" Ayden asked ignoring the scent.
> > > >Salma took a deep breath. "It's run down, that's for sure. I can't
> > > >believe no one has lived here for years." "My family still owns it, but
> > > >after my grandfather's death, no one wanted to do anything about it."
> > > >Ayden placed his hand on the cold handle of the dilapidated Victorian
> > > >house. He dug in his pockets for the rusty key he had found in his
> > > >father's office. As he inserted the heavy key in the lock, a quiet click
> > > >was heard. Ayden pushed the solid door open. He looked in Salma's
> > > >direction before stepping inside. Shutting the door, the house engulfed
> > > >all sound like a tomb. "Creepy," Salma said as she shivered. Ayden
> > > >walked forward tapping his long white cane, arcing wide so as to not run
> > > >into anything. Dust filled the air and Ayden coughed as he inhaled.
> > > >"This has been sitting for years," Ayden rasped. "What's it look like?"
> > > >Salma looked around. "It's really dark, but it's almost completely
> > > >empty. What do you think you'll find?" "I'm not sure. Sheriff Jenkins
> > > >wasn't much help. I just thought, maybe something." Salma's sandals
> > > >clipped-clopped as she walked over to a window to open it. "Well, if we
> > > >are going to be here long we need fresh air." Ayden felt a rush of
> > > >summer breeze as the window clambered up. The sound of kids jumping
> > > >rope ruined the house's stolid silence. Life entered the house again as
> > > >Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue. Salma clumped up the
> > > >stairs as Ayden moved from room to room feeling walls and any remaining
> > > >furniture, hoping to find something, anything. He rifled through
> > > >drawers and cupboards. So far his hands had only found dust and
> > > >cobwebs. "Ayden, Ayden!" Salma shouted a couple of hours later. Ayden
> > > >hurried towards the staircase. "Salma! Are you okay?" "Get up here! I
> > > >found something!" Ayden clambered up the grand staircase. Reaching the
> > > >top, he shouted, "What room?" "Um, it's a bedroom." Hearing her voice
> > > >off to his left, Ayden moved down the hallway. At the end, he found a
> > > >door open. "Salma?" Salma's clapping sandals moved towards Ayden. "Look
> > > >at this," she said excitedly. Her bracelet tinkled and paper crackled
> > > >as she shoved something in Ayden's hand. Ayden grinned. "Um." He
> > > >handed the paper back to Salma. "Oh-sorry. I just-you won't believe
> > > >this." It was another letter; a love letter to Henry. Henry, My love, I
> > > >miss you. I grow restless with each day. I have waited years to be
> > > >with you, really be with you. Let's stop the pretending, stop the lies.
> > > >Don't be mad with me. I would do anything for you, but we must stop
> > > >hiding. There is no harm in this. I will wait to hear from you, but
> > > >don't take long. Love,
> > > >A. W.
> > > >Salma rushed through the letter almost in one breath. Ayden was not
> > > >quite sure what her excitement was for. "We already know Henry was
> > > >having an affair of sorts," he said. Salma sighed impatiently. "Ayden,
> > > >think about it. Don't you see?" "Not really," he said slowly. She
> > > >grabbed his wrist. Her slender fingers gripped him with a strength
> > > >Ayden would not have guessed at. She moved in closer and once again,
> > > >Ayden took in the scent of jasmine. This time he smelled something else
> > > >with it. Vanilla, he thought. Salma shook his arm slightly bringing him
> > > >back to attention. "Ayden, A. W. Don't you see it yet?" "A. W.?" "The
> > > >initials," she said exasperated, "A. W. Alice Whitley." "Who's Alice
> > > >Whitley?" Salma smacked her forehead. "Ay-where are your notes from
> > > >today?" Ayden pulled out the three-by-five note card from his back
> > > >pocket. "Now read through it," Salma said as though talking to a small
> > > >child. Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked sharply up
> > > >at Salma. "See?" Salma asked. "I can't believe we didn't realize it
> > > >then. His secretary. And Sheriff Jenkins said she's still living in
> > > >town." "Think we can find her?" "Give me a minute," Ayden said reaching
> > > >for his mobile phone tucked away in his pocket. An electronic hum came
> > > >from his phone as he maneuvered through the menus on his phone. A
> > > >screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped Ayden utilize
> > > >the functions on his phone. "Got it. There's only one Alice Whitley
> > > >that shows up in town." "Thank God for technology," Salma said. "No
> > > >wonder no one could ever solve this case." Ayden smirked at her. "Thank
> > > >God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn't live far from here
> > > >and it's not too late."
> > > >
> > > >Ten minutes later, Ayden and Salma knocked on a door. The house was
> > > >less substantial than the Templeton house, but Salma described its
> > > >well-kempt lawn and cheery exterior. The door opened and a woman's voice
> > > >gasped, "Oh." "Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-" "Templeton," she said. "You
> > > >look like Henry." Smiling, Ayden said, "Miss Whitley, this is my friend
> > > >Salma. We're working on a book about my grandfather, and we would like
> > > >to ask you some questions." "Oh, of course. Come in, come in." As the
> > > >door shut behind Ayden and Salma, he smelled a flower scent that he
> > > >couldn't place and a clock ticked nearby. Alice Whitley ushered them
> > > >into a sitting room off the entryway. Salma sat next to Ayden on the
> > > >soft couch while Alice sat across from them. "Can I offer you anything?
> > > >I just made lemonade." "That would be wonderful," Salma said. As Alice
> > > >left the room, Ayden turned towards Salma. "I'm sorry, I didn't even
> > > >think to ask if you were hungry." "Hon, it's okay. I didn't think about
> > > >it myself until now." "We'll have dinner after this; I promise."
> > > >"Promise?" Ayden grinned as Alice returned. She placed an ice-cold
> > > >glass in Ayden's hand. Ice chinked against the side as he took a gulp.
> > > >The cold liquid felt good down his throat after the dust of his family's
> > > >house. He could only imagine how dirty he and Salma looked. He felt
> > > >the mingled grime of sweat and dirt on his body. Why had it not
> > > >occurred to them to stop somewhere first and wash up, Ayden thought.
> > > >"So, what can I help you with? Henry was a dear friend and I miss him.
> > > >You must call me Alice." "Well, Alice, we specifically are interested in
> > > >his death," Ayden said. Alice choked on her lemonade. "Why would you be
> > > >interested in that?" "I believe that maybe his death wasn't accidental."
> > > >"Oh dear, don't buy into those silly rumors. Pete Jenkins conducted a
> > > >thorough investigation and no foul play was to be hinted at." "And yet
> > > >the rumors persist," Ayden said. "Silly gossip. Housewives bored out of
> > > >there minds." "You know Sheriff Jenkins?" Ayden asked. "Darling, it's a
> > > >town of ten-thousand; everybody knows everybody." Ayden sipped on his
> > > >lemonade as Salma clicked her nails against the side of her glass. "We
> > > >have reason to believe maybe there is more to the story," Ayden said. He
> > > >affected his best courtroom demeanor. He had seen his father like this
> > > >hundreds of times. Alice swirled ice chuncks around in her glass. Her
> > > >voice had lost some of its cheeriness when she responded by asking,
> > > >"What makes you say that?" Ayden found the love letter in a folder. He
> > > >removed the Braille label, setting the letter on the coffee table
> > > >dividing Ayden and Salma from Alice. The room grew still. The letter
> > > >rustled as Alice picked it up. When she spoke, she sounded choked as
> > > >though she were holding back tears. "Where did you find this?" "It was
> > > >in some old boxes in the Templeton home," Salma said. A long silence
> > > >followed in which Ayden could hear Alice sniffling. "I suppose the truth
> > > >has to come out sooner or later," Alice said quietly. "We don't
> > > >need-a-details of anything, but is there any reason to think Henry was
> > > >killed?" Ayden soothed. "Your grandfather hired me when I was eighteen,"
> > > >Alice began, ignoring Ayden. "I instantly fell in love with him, but he
> > > >was that type. Dashingly handsome, charming to a fault. He was a few
> > > >years older than me, but I knew how all the girls waited for their
> > > >chance to rope Henry into marriage. I felt so lucky to see him
> > > >everyday. I started out as a simple receptionist, but eventually he
> > > >promoted me to his personal secretary." "Did you move with my
> > > >grandparents then, when they moved?" Ayden asked. Alice sighed. "Yes,
> > > >but after-things happened-I moved back. I remained in his employ,
> > > >working from the office here in town. Before your father took charge,
> > > >Henry's headquarters had always been based from here." Ayden nodded his
> > > >head. "I never meant to hurt anyone. Things happened. Henry loved us
> > > >both, Lucy and I. I tried to end it for years, but Henry always showed
> > > >up with that smile of his. Then I tried to make him choose. I
> > > >should've known better, but I was in love." Alice continued to spill her
> > > >story, hoping for redemption perhaps. "The final straw came right before
> > > >his death. We had carried on for almost forty-years and I knew it had
> > > >to stop. We fought. I threatened to tell Lucy and that was that. He
> > > >left me promising to choose. I waited for an answer, but a week later,
> > > >Henry was found dead." "Did you ever tell anyone?" Ayden asked. "No."
> > > >
> > > >Ayden and Salma stood by the car outside Alice's house. A breeze
> > > >tousled Ayden's hair and Salma gently combed her fingers through his
> > > >dark tresses. "Seems like all you Templeton men are irresistible," she
> > > >said teasingly. Unsure of how to respond to her comment, he grinned, but
> > > >before he could make a remark, Ayden heard her car door click open. He
> > > >slid into the passenger seat, heart pounding. "You promised me dinner,"
> > > >Salma whined playfully.
> > > >
> > > >After devouring diner-style hamburgers and fries, Ayden and Salma found
> > > >themselves walking through the downtown area. Salma kept up with
> > > >Ayden's stride as his cane tapped in a shoulder-length-arc. "Sometimes I
> > > >think it would be nice to live in a small town," Salma mused. "Really,
> > > >you? Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day," Ayden joked. "I could
> > > >drive to the city. I don't know. It seems like a nice place to raise a
> > > >family." Ayden had never heard Salma speak about kids or families. As
> > > >well as he knew her, Ayden realized there was plenty he still had to
> > > >learn about Salma. "Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow
> > > >up to cheat, lie and murder," Ayden scoffed. "We, huh?" Ayden blushed,
> > > >feeling the heat creep up his neck to his face. He hadn't caught his
> > > >blunder. He sputtered, but before he could make sense of his words,
> > > >Salma grabbed his hand. "Maybe we can live in the Templeton mansion,"
> > > >she said. They walked silently back to the car. "It's pretty late, what
> > > >should we do?" Salma asked. Ayden flipped the crystal face of his watch
> > > >up. Feeling the raised dots and arrows with his pointer finger on his
> > > >Braille watch, he said, "It's a quarter to eleven. I'm beat." "Me too.
> > > >I don't really feel like driving back tonight though." Ayden scratched
> > > >his head. "I guess we can stay at casa-de-Templeton." "Okay, but no
> > > >funny business," Salma joked. Sitting in the car, Ayden said, "By the
> > > >way, unlike some men in my family, I'm more of a one-woman type."
> > > >
> > > >They stood on either side of the king-size bed in the master bedroom.
> > > >"Sure you don't want to sleep in another room?" Ayden asked. "Hell no!
> > > >This house is creepy." "I thought you wanted to raise children here?"
> > > >"Shut-up. Scared to sleep with a girl?" The bed creaked as Salma lay
> > > >down on it. "A bit musty." They had found spare bed linens in a box and
> > > >had attempted to shake them out as best they could. Ayden had noticed a
> > > >lingering wispy scent of flowers that he could not place. It may have
> > > >been the remnants of something used to launder the linens years ago, he
> > > >had thought. Without thinking, Ayden removed his shirt and handed it to
> > > >Salma. "Here. You can wrap your pillow in it." "Thanks," Salma said
> > > >drawing the word out. Realizing what he had just done, he blushed for
> > > >the millionth time that day. Not able to turn back what he had done,
> > > >Ayden lay slowly down, sticking close to the edge. "Keep your hands
> > > >above the blankets," Salma yawned.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden woke disoriented at first, but comprehension quickly dawned as he
> > > >felt Salma's small body nestled against his. She snored quietly and
> > > >Ayden smiled. This was nice, he thought. He extracted himself gently
> > > >from the bed, trying to not wake Salma. He needed to use the bathroom,
> > > >but it struck him that the bathrooms would not be in working order. It
> > > >was primitive, but it would have to do, he thought as he found his way
> > > >downstairs and out into the back garden. Hoping no neighbors were awake
> > > >to see him, he relieved himself. Half asleep still, his eyes snapped
> > > >open as a slight shuffle came from behind him. Finished with his
> > > >midnight chore, he listened intently, but no sound came again. He
> > > >turned around, gripping his cane in one hand. "Hello," he said. No
> > > >response came. He turned back towards the house and as he walked, Ayden
> > > >felt his back tingle. It was the sensation he felt as a child when
> > > >terrified, feeling a presence behind him. He was an adult now, he
> > > >chided himself. Forcing himself to walk calmly back into the house, he
> > > >reached the French doors and entered. As he went to shut the doors, a
> > > >soft shuffle started in the darkness again. It could have been the long
> > > >dead foliage rustling in the breeze, but Ayden placed himself in the
> > > >doorway again. The noise instantly stopped. Slamming the door and
> > > >locking it, Ayden flew to the stairs, taking three steps at a time.
> > > >Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, Ayden felt a cool breeze cut
> > > >through the stuffy air of the bedroom. DeMint, he swore to himself.
> > > >They had opened windows before going to bed, hoping to air out their
> > > >lodgings for the night. Salma still was sleeping peacefully on the bed.
> > > >He sat on the bed resting his head on the large carved headboard,
> > > >listening. Crickets chirped outside and the breeze rustled the leaves of
> > > >trees from time to time. Salma continued her snoring. Silence loomed
> > > >around the house. Ayden waited to hear the shuffle noise again or a
> > > >step on the stairs, but nothing came. He relaxed after fifteen minutes
> > > >of vigilante guarding. Laying back down on the bed, one arm behind his
> > > >head, he smiled when Salma threw an arm across his chest. Thinking only
> > > >of Salma by now, Ayden drifted back off to sleep.
> > > >
> > > >The second time Ayden woke he knew where he was, but something was not
> > > >right. Salma still snored next to him as he spooned her, but an acrid
> > > >odor filled his nostrils. A loud crack made him bolt up in bed. "Salma!
> > > >There's a fire!" He shook her until she woke up. "We need to get out of
> > > >here," Ayden shouted as she slowly regained a conscience state. Ayden
> > > >flew to the open door. Smoke filled his nose and made his eyes water.
> > > >"Salma, I can't tell if we can make it down the stairs." Standing next
> > > >to him, she said, "All I can see is smoke. Can we jump out the window?"
> > > >"We're on the second floor. It's pretty high up." Now across the room,
> > > >Ayden heard Salma cry, "Oh-my-god! Ayden!" "What?" "I can see flames
> > > >around the base of the house." "Shit." Trying to think, Ayden gathered
> > > >up the sheet from the bed. Dousing it with water from the couple
> > > >bottles purchased last night, he threw the sheet at Salma. "Wrap
> > > >yourself in this." "Why?" "Just do it." Making sure her long hair was
> > > >covered, Ayden threw Salma over his shoulder. Grabbing his cane by the
> > > >door, he moved into the hallway. Hoping the shirt tied around his face
> > > >would keep out smoke, Ayden ran to the top of the stairs. Despite the
> > > >situation, Ayden could not help notice the harlequin-romance-like
> > > >predicament. He heard Salma say something, but her face was muffled and
> > > >he could not understand her. Tucking his cane underneath his arm, he
> > > >groped the banister which still seemed intact. Finally reaching the
> > > >bottom, he found his way to the front door and opened it. A rush of
> > > >fresh air greeted him. Feeling heat, he hoped he could make it off the
> > > >porch. At the top of the stairs, panicked, he placed Salma upright
> > > >again. She struggled to loosen the sheet around her. "Are the flames
> > > >here too?" Ayden asked. "No, but there coming from behind." At the end
> > > >of the drive, Ayden dialed 911 on his phone. Neighbors could be heard
> > > >coming from their own houses. A few ran up to Ayden and Salma asking if
> > > >they were okay. Standing at a distance, Ayden could hear the roar of
> > > >flames. Salma held his hand as they waited in silence for the sound of
> > > >sirens.
> > > >
> > > >Ayden rested on the back bumper of Sheriff Jenkins's police cruiser.
> > > >The mid-morning sun warmed his face. Still shirtless, a blanket draped
> > > >his shoulders. A gritty smudge crossed his forehead and he could still
> > > >smell the smoke embracing his body. Once the firemen had extinguished
> > > >the fire, Sheriff Jenkins and his deputy, a man about Ayden's age, drove
> > > >Salma and Ayden to the police station. Each gave a report before Nick
> > > >was contacted. Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water. He
> > > >gulped the cool liquid down as Salma rested her head against his
> > > >shoulder. Sniffing her hair laced with a flower scent and smoke, Ayden
> > > >protectively placed an arm around her. "Ayden," Salma said in quiet
> > > >surprise, "Alice Whitley is here." Ayden pulled the blanket closed as he
> > > >waited for Alice to approach. A new scent filled his nostrils. This
> > > >too smelled of flowers, but it was not the framiliar jasmine and vanilla
> > > >Salma wore. Through the fog of his brain, he tried to place where he
> > > >had smelled this scent before. "I'm glad you two are alright," Alice
> > > >spoke quietly. "I can't believe this. Do you need anything?" "Thank
> > > >you, but we're okay," Salma said warmly. "Pete phoned me this morning-"
> > > >"Sheriff Jenkins? Why?" Ayden asked. Alice didn't respond. Waiting for
> > > >an answer, Ayden finally recognized the flower scent that had lingered
> > > >in the closet where he and Salma had found bed linens. "Alice, did you
> > > >visit the house after we left you yesterday?" Alice made a noise as
> > > >though she were suppressing it in her throat. She never answered and
> > > >before Ayden could ask anything else, he heard her muffled footsteps on
> > > >the grass as she walked briskly away. "Ayden?" Salma puzzled. "Her
> > > >perfume, it's the same smell I noticed in the closet last night."
> > > >"Ayden, that's where I found the letter too," Salma whispered." Ayden
> > > >heard the swish of grass as someone else walked towards them. It was
> > > >Nick. "Are you crazy?" Nick asked, bewildered. "I'm fine. Nice to see
> > > >you too, Dad." Nick let out a long breath before saying, "Your mother
> > > >and I went crazy when we heard what happened. We're glad you're okay."
> > > >"Is the house ruined?" Ayden asked. Salma shifted and sat upright next
> > > >to Ayden. "It's mostly the garden that was ruined, but there is damage
> > > >to the house." Ayden felt his chest tighten. The garden had been Lucy's
> > > >favorite place. Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall
> > > >bushes as Lucy tended to her beloved flowers. Interrupting his
> > > >thoughts, Ayden heard a shuffling footstep approach. Another memory
> > > >pushed itself front and center in his mind. As Sheriff Jenkins stopped
> > > >his pace, Ayden gave him a hard look. "Tom says it will take a few weeks
> > > >to get reports back, but there is some structural damage to the house,
> > > >Nick," the sheriff said. "Taken any midnight strolls to clear your mind
> > > >lately?" Ayden directed to Sheriff Jenkins. No one spoke. Salma gripped
> > > >his hand. "Any reason why you'd call Alice Whitley early this morning?"
> > > >Ayden continued. "Drop it," Nick hissed at Ayden. Thrown off by Nick's
> > > >tone, Ayden squeezed Salma's hand, unsure what to do. "I'm sure we're
> > > >all tired and need to collect our thoughts," Sheriff Jenkins said.
> > > >"Maybe you ought to take these two home, Nick." Ayden heard the
> > > >lumbering shuffle again as Sheriff Jenkins walked away.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >Ayden sat in front of the computer. A buzz issued from the speakers as
> > > >JAWS, a text-to-speech program, sounded off with each command Ayden
> > > >typed. "Still working?" Salma asked from behind. Ayden leaned his head
> > > >back against her stomach. She was wrapped in a large soft towel. He
> > > >slipped his hand through the folds, but she turned swiftly away,
> > > >laughing. Spewing a torrent of Spanish at him, Ayden chuckled. "That
> > > >just turns me on more." "I called you a great big moron whose brain is
> > > >the size of his-" "Doesn't matter. Still sounds sexy." Salma whipped
> > > >another towel at him before scampering to the bedroom. Turning back to
> > > >his work, Ayden decided to check his email. As he clicked on the
> > > >necessary links using Hotkey commands, he thought over the past few
> > > >weeks. Ayden had told his father what happened, but Nick said that
> > > >everything was circumstantial. Ayden knew this, but he also knew he had
> > > >opened something up. Something that had been meant to remain secret.
> > > >Nick refused to open any investigation and he remained tight-lipped
> > > >about anything he knew. The fire was officially reported as an unknown
> > > >accident since no evidence, either way, had been found determining a
> > > >cause. This, at least, was how the police report read. Ayden, though,
> > > >had inquired into the fire-chief's report. It too was inconclusive, but
> > > >this report did mention that a match book had been found near the
> > > >premises. Salma had advised Ayden to wait before attempting any further
> > > >investigation. Salma had been the reason he was able to let the weeks
> > > >slip by without searching for more clues. Once they had returned to the
> > > >city, Ayden had found the courage to express his budding feelings
> > > >towards Salma. They had sat on the couch talking; a typical Friday night
> > > >for them, except this time Ayden could feel a growing anticipation
> > > >between them. Salma had stood to get another beer from the kitchen when
> > > >Ayden reached for her wrist. His large palm had felt bigger next to her
> > > >slim wrist. Both had stared silently at one another. Ayden, thinking
> > > >he would win this game since he couldn't see, broke first. Grinning
> > > >with a smirk, he had pulled Salma to him and kissed her. Three weeks
> > > >later, their routine was continued as normal, yet something was
> > > >different. They had transitioned into this new element with ease, as
> > > >though it were meant to be. Their friendship was strengthened by the
> > > >new romance. Still reminiscing, Ayden did not recognize the name given
> > > >for the first email he came across. Opening it up, he read the
> > > >following: Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you
> > > >stop your investigation immediately. Heartache and harm can only befall
> > > >you. Thank your luck and live long and well with your beautiful new
> > > >love. There was no signature. Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field,
> > > >but the only information this provided was aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.
> > > >Ayden's pulse quickened. Hearing Salma pad lightly back into the room,
> > > >he closed the window he was in. He thought it was best to not alarm her
> > > >just yet. Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear hug,
> > > >Ayden knew this was just the beginning.
> > > >
> > > >_______________________________________________
> > > >Writers Division web site:
> > > >http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> > > ><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> > > >
> > > >stylist mailing list
> > > >stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > >http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > >To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> > > >stylist:
> > > >http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/newmanrl%40cox.
> > > >net
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 5
> > > >Date: Fri, 08 Oct 2010 09:27:43 -0500
> > > >From: BDM <lists at braddunsemusic.com>
> > > >To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: Re: [stylist] detective short fiction "Sense of Murder" some
> > > > language, alludes to sexual content
> > > >Message-ID: <6.2.3.4.2.20101008081531.02bc0150 at www.braddunsemusic.com>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
> > > >
> > > >I'm enjoying this story. Below are some notes as I read...
> > > >
> > > >Conflicting feeling/message:
> > > >...That had been the beginning of their friendship. They had spent many
> > > >nights talking until three in the morning and hanging out on weekends.
> > > >Salma was the one connection Ayden had to the outside world. Once
> > > >moving away from his family, he had become a recluse of sorts. He
> > > >showed up to the office for work, attended cocktail parties required for
> > > >work and even dated a couple of girls, but Salma was the one person he
> > > >truly felt comfortable with...
> > > >
> > > >BD: It sounds like he had all kinds of connections to the outside
> > > >world to me here. Work, dates, business parties. Not the image of a
> > > >recluse in my view.
> > > >
> > > >Blindness accessibility commentary:
> > > >
> > > >...his cane tapped, Ayden was sure he found the door.
> > > >"No Braille, is this it?" he shouted back to Salma...
> > > >
> > > >BD: If a sighted reader was reading they actually might not get this
> > > >without spoon feeding... 'He slid his hand along the door
> > > >jamb/front/address plate/whatever..."no Braille...'"
> > > >instead of just "no Braille". But it sort of stood out as a jab or
> > > >inside perspective at there aren't Braille on many doors which to me
> > > >seemed unnecessary in this context.
> > > >
> > > >Travel descriptions: Again if this is meant for general consumption
> > > >the "inside baseball" descriptions of the travel motions seem to
> > > >stand out of place to me. For example...
> > > >
> > > >Ayden followed the sheriff into a room off the main section of the
> > > >department. His cane swep the inside of the door frame, indicating the
> > > >width so Ayden avoided bumping into the edges of the frame. Ayden asked
> > > >where a chair was and turned in the direction Captain Jenkins indicated.
> > > >Once again, his cane found the chair and sliding the cane across the
> > > >seat, Ayden determined where the front of the chair was. Salma's arm
> > > >brushed his
> > > >
> > > >BD: However I think the below example is very natural...
> > > >
> > > >...interrogation room. Ayden twisted his cane between his fingers.
> > > >Salma bobbed her foot which was lightly kicking Ayden's shin.
> > > >
> > > >BD: I will say if this book is targeting blind readers then the
> > > >travel discriptions are probably more appreciated in the storyline.
> > > >These aren't story killers by anymeans but I'm just looking at a real
> > > >good story here and looking how it might be better from a general
> > > >readers perspective.
> > > >
> > > >Dialog confusion:
> > > >
> > > >Ayden leaned against the table looking straight in the direction where
> > > >Sheriff Jenkins sat. "I thought Henry was a catch? You know, a lawyer
> > > >from a wealthy family." "He was a playboy. Always was, never changed."
> > > >"Who did you question about his death?" Salma broke in.
> > > >
> > > >BD: I was confused who said what about the catch and playboy. I
> > > >assume its the Sherriff but the dialog was set up as if it were
> > > >Ayden stating it.
> > > >
> > > >slate and Stylist: I think the description of the slate and stylist
> > > >is a good thing in that showing how he's noting stuff but not sure
> > > >a sighted person will understand the "cells" part. Perhaps describing
> > > >it as a series of rectangular holes with indents underneath similar
> > > >to the number six on a dice. I don't know it would be easy to go too
> > > >far in description here.
> > > >
> > > >Sarcasm or not?: At this part...
> > > >
> > > >his phone. A screen-reading program specific to mobile phones, helped
> > > >Ayden utilize the functions on his phone. "Got it. There's only one
> > > >Alice Whitley that shows up in town." "Thank God for technology," Salma
> > > >said. "No wonder no one could ever solve this case." Ayden smirked at
> > > >her. "Thank God for accessible technology. Come on. She doesn't live
> > > >far from here and it's not too late."
> > > >
> > > >BD: I was confused at the "No wonder no one could ever solve this case"
> > > >comment. Was it sarcasm of some sort or a plug for
> > > >technology? The Sherriff admited this was a small town, and in small
> > > >towns everyone knows everyone who is around so while Ayden would
> > > >need technology, the locals wouldn't need it to find Ms Whitley
> > > >or solve the case. So I was just a bit baffled there.
> > > >
> > > >Conversation reality: At...
> > > >
> > > >"Miss Whitley? I'm Ayden-"
> > > >"Templeton," she said. "You look like Henry."
> > > >
> > > >BD: I doubt a stranger would tell another they looked like someone
> > > >right out of the gate like that. Even if she thoght it, and perhaps
> > > >that ought be what is said here to add to the mysteriousness of the
> > > >story, but even if she thought it, I doubt she'd say it out loud.
> > > >
> > > >Love growing: I like the flirty playfulness of Ayden and Salma but it
> > > >seemed to move pretty fast from the apparent long friendship they had
> > > >going, granted this is a short story so things might need to move
> > > >along but love stories/flirting likes tensionand release subtlies and
> > > >it just seemed to move a bit fast... sort of like gulping a chunk of
> > > >chocolate without savoring it :). . I got the impression they were
> > > >living together when he was at the computer and she wore a towel
> > > >behind him then slipped off to the bedroom. Maybe just a little
> > > >clarity. I wondered whose place they were in, why was she in a towl
> > > >in the first place. But I did like the playfulness of the scene.
> > > >
> > > >Overall I really like this story. I'm intrigued how the puzzle pieces
> > > >are going to fit. There are lots of mysteries at once with all the
> > > >characters, very nice writing IMO.
> > > >
> > > >Are you going to or had you finished the mystery?
> > > >
> > > >Brad
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >con
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >Message: 6
> > > >Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2010 12:19:43 -0400
> > > >From: "Pat Harmon" <pharmon222 at comcast.net>
> > > >To: "Jennifer Harmon" <jennifer.harmon at SourceMedia.com>
> > > >Cc: NFBnet Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> > > >Subject: [stylist] no more mystery
> > > >Message-ID: <000a01cb6704$9e652530$bab15144 at default3gx6vng>
> > > >Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
> > > >
> > > >I went to bed with the "pewter" on my mind, although it did not cost me
> > > >any sleep. Foolish not to look below. There is was, the little figures
> > > >I love. Memories are endless.
> > > >
> > > >Perhaps the housecleaners moved them. I don't know. They are best on
> > > >display. I thought maybe they were in your apartment, but I had no
> > > >recollection of that. My mind creates tales.
> > > >
> > > >Now, I am searching for breadcrumbs. Eleanor gave me a recipe for
> > > >cauliflower. It was out on the counter, and it is the biggest I've ever
> > > >bought.
> > > >
> > > >I am hoping to hear from the newest Grandma I know! I might have a ride
> > > >to Mahwah occasionally. A fellow Lion has a daughter there. Maybe that
> > > >could work out.
> > > >
> > > >Ah, luck shall be with me for new flooring tomorrow. Then, I must walk
> > > >gingerly across it
> > > >
> > > >Did I pay for your latest hairdo? There was a bill and the name had
> > > >something to do with coiffures. It was two hundred or so.
> > > >
> > > >How Do you spell pewter anyway? I'm feeling spelling impaired!
> > > >
> > > >Smile, Hobo! It is Fabulous Frrivolous fantastic fine foolish fortunate
> > > >Friday!!
> > > >
> > > >------------------------------
> > > >
> > > >_______________________________________________
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> > > >stylist at nfbnet.org
> > > >http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >End of stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 5
> > > >**************************************
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >_______________________________________________
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> > >
> > >
> > > Brad Dunse
> > >
> > > Tell me, and I'll forget. Show me, and I'll remember. Involve me, and
> > > I'll learn
> > >
> > > E Mail: brad at braddunsemusic.com
> > >
> > > Website: http://www.braddunsemusic.com
> > >
> > > Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1464323555
> > >
> > > Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/braddunse
> > >
> > > MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/braddunse
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > ------------------------------
> > >
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> > >
> > >
> > > End of stylist Digest, Vol 78, Issue 6
> > > **************************************
> >
> >_______________________________________________
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>
> Brad Dunse
>
> Birth? learn? intern? earn? lectern? sojourn? adjourn?
> Enjoy the ride, its shorter than you think. --Anonymous
>
> E Mail: brad at braddunsemusic.com
>
> Website: http://www.braddunsemusic.com
>
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>
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