[stylist] detective short revision

[Judith Bron]

Great story!  Let's see.  Alice must have started the fire.  Her secret had 
remained that way until Eden started poking around.  I think the Sheriff is 
somehow related to Alice.  Could he be her illegitimate son?  Just curious, 
Judith
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Bridgit Pollpeter" <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, October 22, 2010 12:15 PM
Subject: [stylist] detective short revision


> Hey guys,
>
> Since I shared the first draft with you lot, I thought I would share my
> revision.  Again, I am not a detective fiction writer, nor do I wish to
> be, but after your comments and my class workshop, I have made some
> changes.
>
> My fiction, unfortunately, is not as good as my nonfiction, but I do
> like my two main characters.  I would like to continue something with
> them.
>
> Enjoy!
>
> Bridgit
>
> 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.  A few 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 had found Ayden's grandfather lying at the bottom of the
> staircase in his home.  His father never spoke about the incident after
> reporting it to the police.  His father was allowing Ayden and Salma to
> search through any items he kept though.
>
> For years there had been whispers of foul play, but no one ever spoke
> about the rumors.  The official ruling was that Henry Templeton, Ayden's
> grandfather, had accidently fallen down the stairs.  Other than the
> vicious gossip, there didn't seem to be any reason to think otherwise
> until Ayden began researching his grandfather's life.  A few weeks of
> poking around Henry Templeton's past, Ayden received a mysterious email.
>
> Your journey has just begun, but it is advisable that you stop your
> investigation immediately.  Heartache and harm can only befall you
>
> Alarmed, but intrigued, Ayden picked up his research with new fervor.
> Now he and his friend and neighbor, Salma, sat in his father's large
> office surrounded by books and papers searching for clues that may
> indicate a reason why his grandfather would have been murdered.
>
> "So what's next?" Salma asked.
>
> 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 his grandmother knew about it, she
> could have killed Henry.
>
> People had said his grandmother, Lucy, had been distracted and irritable
> a couple of weeks before his grandfather's death.  When his father found
> Henry at the bottom of the stairs, the only other person present had
> been his grandmother.  Stunned by the event, his father had placed Lucy
> in a nursing home.
>
> 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 again, 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 his grandfather had given the third edition
> book to his grandmother for Christmas.  His grandmother 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.
>
> After an accident had left Ayden blind, his father had refused to
> believe Ayden could handle the work of a litigator, but Lucy had never
> doubted his ability to do anything.
>
> Now, Ayden and Salma found a letter enclosed in the pages of the book; a
> letter suggesting a secret Ayden never knew about.
>
> 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.
>
> When Ayden's father found Henry's body, Lucy had gone wild, screaming,
> unable to leave Henry's lifeless body.
>
> 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 black
> mark attached to her memory.
>
> Ayden never believed that his grandmother would hurt anyone.  She had
> been fond of Ayden, and she never treated him like his life was over
> after the accident.
>
> "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 his grandparents had lived
> in.  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.
>
> His grandfather had started a small law firm in town, but eventually it
> grew.  His grandparents had moved when Ayden's father, Nick, had been
> ten.
>
> Nick never spoke about his childhood though.  Ayden really didn't know
> much about his family's past.  His grandparents had moved back to their
> old house once Nick took the firm over, but Ayden had rarely visited the
> home.  After his grandfather 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.
>
> 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
> when you asked about the letter."
>
> He remembered how Nick had gone quiet and cold before telling him ,
> "Leave it alone.  We don't dig up family history."
>
> Ayden had tried to coax him 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."
>
> "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 true connection Ayden had to
> the outside world.
>
> 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.  After graduating from college, His father had told
> him, "No one will ever respect a blind man in the courtroom.  Maybe the
> firm can bring you on as a researcher."  Ayden was tired of his father's
> attitude so he took a job writing for a small magazine and left the
> family home.
>
> Once moving away, 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.  My services don't come
> free."  Salma giggled as she pulled into a parking stall.  "I think
> we're here."
>
> "Thanks, again, for taking the day off to help."
>
> "Hey, I know you'd help me with stuff.  It's all so interesting; way
> more interesting than filling in for waiters who don't show up for
> work."
>
> "You aren't at work, who's filling in for you?" Ayden said grinning at
> her.
>
> Salma smacked his arm.  "That's the benefit of being the owner's
> daughter."
>
> While Salma dropped coins into the parking meter, Ayden tapped his cane
> along the brick walls looking for the door.  Hearing the difference from
> the cane tip tapping on brick to the clink of glass, he figured he found
> the door.
>
> "No Braille, is this it?" he shouted back to Salma.
>
> "Yes," 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 clicked on
> the linoleum floor as she walked away.
>
> Salma touched Ayden's arm.  "She had a weird look when you mentioned
> your grandpa's name."
>
> As the receptionist 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.
> Finding the chair with his cane, he felt Salma's arm brush 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 with an edge
> to his tone.
>
> Ayden shifted his head towards Salma.  Even though he had been blind for
> seven-years, Ayden still used visual gestures and body movement.  "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?  Wouldn't most have
> jumped at the chance to marry into the Templeton family?  You know, a
> lawyer from a wealthy family and all that."
>
> "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 Madison , 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, fluttering Ayden's
> collar up as she rushed past.
>
>
>
> Back in the car, he said, "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?"
>
> He could tell Salma was upset, but he left it alone.  "The house, I
> guess."
>
> As the car backed out into the silent street, 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.  Ayden smiled as he
> 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 reaching
> 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."
>
> "So sad," Salma said quietly.
>
> Ayden placed his hand on the cold knob 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?"
>
> "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 playing ruined the house's stolid silence.  Life entered
> the house again as Ayden began to feel around searching for any clue.
>
> Ayden moved from room to room feeling walls and any remaining furniture,
> hoping to find something, anything.  Making his progression from room to
> room on the main floor, he heard Salma's muffled footsteps overhead.  He
> smiled to himself as 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 where Salma's voice echoed from.
> "Salma!  Are you okay?"
>
> "Get up here!  I found something!"
>
> Ayden clambered up the grand staircase.  Reaching the second floor, he
> shouted, "What room?"
>
> "Um, it's a bedroom."
>
> He rolled his eyes.  "Right."  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 him.
>
> "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.  If you don't choose me, I will marry Tom Madison.
>
> 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, her
> tinkling crystal bracelet grazing his wrist,  bringing him back to
> attention.
>
> "Ayden, A. W.  Don't you see it yet?"
>
> "A. W.?"
>
> "The initials," she said exasperated, "A. W.  It's Alice Madison."
>
> "Who's Alice Madison?"
>
> 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.
>
> A second passed and Half way through his notes, Ayden stopped and looked
> sharply up at Salma.
>
> "See?" Salma asked.
>
> "You think A. W. and Alice Madison are the same person?"
>
> "It fits."
>
> "Henry's secretary.  And Sheriff Jenkins said she's still living in
> town.  She must have married this Madison guy."
>
> "Think we can find her?"
>
> "Give me a minute," Ayden said reaching for his mobile phone tucked away
> in his pocket.  An electronic voice hummed from his phone as he
> maneuvered through the menus.
>
> "Got it.  There's only one Alice Madison 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, they knocked on Alice Madison's door.  Salma
> described the house's well-kempt lawn and green exterior.  She said that
> flower boxes lined the windows and white shutters hung from the upstair
> windows.
>
> The door opened and a woman's voice gasped, "Oh."
>
> "Mrs. Madison?  I'm Ayden-"
>
> "Templeton," she said.  "You look like Henry."
>
> Smiling, Ayden said, "Mrs. Madison, 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 Madison 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 the Templeton 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 coughed as she 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 small town; 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 observed 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?"
>
> He found the love letter in a folder.  Removing the Braille label, he
> set it on the coffee table dividing them from Alice.  "Did you write
> this?"
>
> The letter rustled as Alice picked it up.  When she spoke, her voice
> sounded strained 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 heard 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
> him.  "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?" he 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 spilled 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, her car door clicked open.  He slid into the passenger
> seat, heart pounding.
>
> "You promised me dinner," Salma whined playfully.
>
>
>
>
>
> Munching on diner-style hamburgers and fries, they took the opportunity
> to relax.
>
> "How come you didn't visit your grandparents much?" Salma asked.
>
> "Not sure.  Mom and Dad were always busy.  Usually just my sister and I
> came."
>
> "Did you ever notice anything between them then?"
>
> "No, but I was a kid."
>
> "What about when you were older?"
>
> "Naw, I was busy then too.  After the accident, though, I spent more
> time with my grandma.  She was the only one who treated me like me
> still, but she died shortly after that."
>
> "I wish I could have met her."
>
> "She would have liked you."
>
> "I always hated seeing my family all the time, but now I'm glad we're so
> close."
>
> "Hey, let's walk around town."  Ayden slid out of the vinyl booth and
> paid at the register.
>
> Meeting Salma out by the car, they moved towards the downtown area.
> Salma kept up with Ayden's stride as his cane tapped from side-to-side.
>
> "Sometimes I think it would be nice to live in a small town," she mused.
>
> "Really, you?  Ms. Have-to-go-shopping-every-other-day," he 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 wanting kids.  As well as he
> knew her, he realized there was plenty he still had to learn.
>
> "Yes, we could raise happy little kids who will grow up to cheat, lie
> and murder," he 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 hand-in-hand.
>
> "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, he said, "It's a quarter to eleven.  I'm beat."
>
> "Me too.  I don't really feel like driving back tonight though."
>
> He 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."
>
> "Good to know."  Salma kissed his cheek.
>
> Ayden laced his fingers through hers.
>
> "I was wondering when you would make a move," she said.
>
> Ayden reached for her face and leaned in to kiss her.  Her lips were
> smooth and tasted of cherry.  Salma placed her hand on his face as they
> held this pose for a minute.
>
>
>
> Back at the Templeton house, 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, he 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 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," she 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 like a weapon
> 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 thirty-years-old
> 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 of the garden rustling in the breeze, but Ayden
> couldn't be sure.  Placing 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.
>
> Danmit, 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 as Ayden waited to hear the
> shuffle again or a step on the stairs, but nothing came.  He relaxed
> after fifteen minutes of his vigilante watch.
>
> 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
> conscienceness.
>
> 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, 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 bottles purchased the night before, he threw
> the sheet in Salma's direction.  "Wrap yourself in this."
>
> "Why?"
>
> "Just do it."
>
> Making sure her long hair was covered, Ayden threw Salma over his broad
> 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 they could make
> it off the porch.  At the porch steps, 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, the flames roared.  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 Ayden's father was contacted.
>
> Salma approached Ayden now offering a cup of water.  He gulped the cool
> liquid down as she rested her head against his shoulder.  Sniffing her
> hair laced with the jasmine and vanilla scent and smoke, Ayden
> protectively placed an arm around her.
>
> "Ayden," Salma said in quiet surprise, "Alice Madison's 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 scent Salma wore.  Through the fog of his brain, he
> tried to place where he had smelled this 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 suppressed-sounding noise.  She never answered and before
> Ayden could ask anything else, her muffled footsteps padded 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 His father, 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 His grandmother's
> favorite place.  Ayden remembered playing among the walk-ways and tall
> bushes as she tended to her beloved flowers.  Interrupting his thoughts,
> he heard a shuffling footstep approach.  Another memory pushed itself
> front and center in his mind.  As Sheriff Jenkins stopped his pace,
> Ayden gave a hard look in the direction of the noise.
>
> "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 Madison early this morning?" Ayden
> asked.
>
> "Drop it," Nick hissed.
>
> Thrown off by his father'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."  He
> shuffled off.
>
>
>
>
>
> Ayden sat in front of the computer.  A humming buzz issued from the
> speakers as Ayden worked.
>
> "Still working?" Salma asked from behind.
>
> Ayden leaned his head back against her stomach.  She was wrapped in a
> large soft towel.  Remembering last night, he slipped his hand through
> the folds, but she turned swiftly away, laughing.
>
> It had not been the first night one of them slept over at the other's
> apartment, but it had been their first time together.  Excitement had
> rushed over Ayden, but it had not felt awkward.
>
> Salma spewed a torrent of Spanish at him, and he chuckled.  "That just
> turns me on more."
>
> "I called you a great big moron whose brain is tiny like 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.
>
> 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 him to wait before attempting any further investigation.  She
> was worried about him.  Unsure if the fire had been an accident or not,
> he agreed with her.
>
> She 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 a couple
> of days after the fire, Ayden had found the courage to express his
> budding feelings towards her.
>
> 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.
>
> 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:
>
> I'm glad you have stopped your investigation.  It is best to let the
> dead rest.  Enjoy your new love and look only towards the future.
>
> There was no signature.  Alarmed, Ayden checked the From field, but the
> only information this provided was  <mailto:aconcernedfriend at gmail.com.>
> 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.
>
> "Wann' stay here again tonight?" he asked.
>
> "You know, we live across the hall from one another.  Should we just
> make this permanent?"
>
> "Sure you can live with a guy?"
>
> "Well, I guess if it's you I can."
>
> He lunged for her, but she ran giggling across the room.
>
> "This is the great thing about dating a blind guy, he can't catch me."
>
> "Oh yeah?"
>
> Salma shrieked as he flung his body across her path, blocking her dash
> to the bedroom.  Holding Salma close against him, wrapping her in a bear
> hug, Ayden knew this was just the beginning.
>
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