Will Baker is Dead, Episode 4 - "Confrontation"

       On the mantle over the fireplace there are three pictures from their wedding day, the sun-drenched white dress on her soft shoulders while she stands next to her husband in the traditional black tuxedo.  His office has a small computer desk they picked up at a yard sale for $25 two summers back.  Their bedroom looks pristine, his beautiful bride having made the bed that morning after they both prepared for their days.  The garden out front shows evidence of care and concern, each flower placed exactly where it best complements the others around it.

But in the living room, there is a blood stain.  And around that blood stain there are police officers and investigators taking samples and pictures to preserve the scene.  In the kitchen, men examine the blood trails trying to determine how far the man crawled before succumbing to his fate and where his attacker went after finishing the job in the hallway.  Around the front door, they take fingerprints trying to determine just who was with Will Baker that afternoon.  And in the center of the living room, in that bloodstain on the floor, lies the end of Jules Baker’s life, the end of everything she had come to know in those three short years. 

One of the police officers, a sort of hero around Horizon, carried his presence through the scene over to the mantle and grabbed up a picture of the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Will Baker. 

“Officer Rodriguez, where are you going with that picture?”

“It’s for Mrs. Baker.  She’s waiting in my car to follow the body to the station.  Have you catalogued it yet?”

“Yes sir, but…”
            “Then you don’t need it near as much as she does.  I’ll be sure to log it into evidence for you later tonight, don’t worry.”  Officer Rodriguez had carried weight in the department ever since sustaining two bullet wounds a few years earlier, all in the process of stopping a robbery outside of town one Saturday night.  There weren’t very many shootings on this side of the county, and having endured two bullets made Officer Rodriguez some kind of a rarity.  His enlarged frame, coming in at nearly 6’5” with very broad shoulders, didn’t hurt Officer Rodriguez’s reputation for being the man you yield to. 

Jules sat in the back of the car, separated from the world by plates of quarter inch glass.  She had been waiting to follow her husband to the police station for almost thirty minutes now, as soon as someone a grade up from even Officer Rodriguez determined it was okay for her to leave the scene.  And now he had disappeared, leaving her alone with the air conditioning and her thoughts.  In the space of a single day, she had managed to lose her husband and gain an affair, along with forsaking any sense of security she had before.  And it still pulled at her, who could have hurt her husband?  Who could want him dead so badly as to…treat him as they did?  And how could she despise him enough to lie about her love?  Jules had lost any sense of certainty about her world, and she had lost any sense of security in her home.  Out the window Jules could see her home and her neighborhood, and out the window she could see the same sunset she had seen over Mrs. Davis’ home like any other day, but she cried to think that she would only see her husband one more time, and even then it wouldn’t really be him. 

“Here you go, Mrs. Wa – Mrs. Baker.”  Officer Rodriguez corrected himself, wanting to keep from further upsetting the woman.  He handed Jules the picture she had requested, “Should I have a car pick Rob up for you?”

“What?” she responded, startled out of her shock.

“Do you want me to get Rob to meet you at the station?  He hasn’t been gone too long, I’m sure we could pick him up to meet you.  I know you two are real close, and I really feel like you could use a friend right now.”

“No, thank you.  I’ll be okay.”  She must’ve seemed cold to Officer Rodriguez as Jules had already run out of tears, only able to show the depths of her pain through the hollow eyes that now focused on the once smiling love between her and Will. 

The two held hands outside of Horizon Baptist, right down the street from where they would soon live.  The pair dreamed of a nice starter home where they could grow their family, and then move out of town a little and build their perfect dream home with a three-car garage and two teenagers learning how to drive.  They dreamed of two good jobs helping to put their kids through college and themselves through middle age.  They dreamed of happiness and love, but mostly they dreamed of a long life together. 

Jules squeezed Will’s hand for the picture, tighter than she ever had when they were dating.  And the harder she squeezed, the wider he smiled, making sure this picture would be one they were both proud of for years to come.  This was the last one he would get, since they’d already taken a few pictures with his parents and her parents and her cousins and his cousins and the mass of extended family they had both invited to the wedding.  Everyone from second and third cousins to old teachers came to see the young couple married off, them both being local kids and all.

Will whispered into her ear, soft with a hint of villainy to his voice, “Mrs. Julia Robbins, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Only if you, Mr. William Reginald Baker, will take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife.”

“Oh, gawh, you would,” both of them laughing, knowing how much Will hated his middle name. 

“It’s a beautiful name.  And you know we’re going to have to give it to our first son.  I think it would kill your dad if we didn’t.”

“Yeah, he loves those old family traditions, doesn’t he?  But what if we have a girl?”

“Well…” she thought for a minute, wanting to be sure she answered the question right, “either we’ll name her Julia Jr. or…”  She paused for a second, wanting to soften the impact of what she was about to say.  “We’ll name her Nikki.”  Will looked down, but he was smiling, clearly agreeing that it was a good choice. 

“I like it.  Maybe we’ll have one of both.”  Will gave her that grin he had, the one he used when he couldn’t quite smile, but wanted to melt her anyway.  He gave her that grin with what could only be described as a 3/4 smile where the left side of his mouth smiled higher than the right.  “But we’re a long way away from that day.  Maybe in a few years.  Let’s just enjoy what we’ve got here.”    

“Sounds good.  I tell you what, why don’t you help my dad load up the gifts, and I’ll talk to the guests before we have to leave.  What do you say?”  Jules grinned back at her husband, hoping to coerce him into it. 

“I like it.  The faster we get everything loaded up, the faster we can leave.”  As he walked by his new wife, Will gave Jules a pinch.  Sure it was a public place, but it’s their wedding.  How could you really chastise a man for pinching his wife just under an hour into the marriage?  They both laughed a little in anticipation, and she went on about meeting with guests and taking their congratulations in the mid-May air on a somewhat cool Saturday afternoon.  Finally, she saw Mrs. Baker, Will’s mom.

“Erin!  Erin!”

“Oh, hey baby, come here, let me give you a hug.  You are so beautiful in that dress!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Baker.  It means so much to me, everything you’ve done for us,” Jules wanted to add, noting how Mr. and Mrs. Baker took care of the greater part of the expenses, seeing as how they were both poor students, fresh out of college. 

“Nothing’s too good for my son and his girl.  After all, you’ve been like a daughter to me.  I know it’s meant a lot to Will’s father, too, all you’ve done for us.” 

It was hard not to talk about Nikki around the Baker family, as much as they hurt to mention her.  Will’s younger sister, Nikki, was killed crossing the street, struck by a drunk driver, after a Horizon football game a few years back right before Jules and Will went off to college.  Even before Jules started dating Will, she had been like a surrogate daughter for their family.  It meant a great deal to both of his parents to have a young girl in their lives, especially after losing their own.  In fact, it wasn’t until after Nikki’s death that Will really caught Jules’ eye.  They knew each other, but were never as close as she and Rob.  Honestly, she thought he was a bit of a jerk in high school, but they grew closer, and they really came together when they were off at the same college. 

Jules hadn’t even thought of his parents, Erin and Phil, with everything that was happening.  They were off on vacation in Hawaii for his retirement from work, and were probably just sitting down to a nice lunch.  Jules didn’t want to, but she had to tell them about what had happened to Will. 

By now, they were pulling up into the parking lot of the police station and Officer Rodriguez helped her out of the car.  She recognized the area, as Jules often passed the station on the way to Rob’s house out in the more rural areas of Horizon.  Why it was so far out of town, she never knew, but it felt good to her being closer to Rob.  She knew he was right around the corner, and she would probably call him after both her and Will’s parents. 

“Officer,” she asked softly, hinting at the soreness of her crying throat. 

“Yes, ma’am?  What do you need?”

“Can I make my phone call now?”  Not fully understanding what Jules asked, she added, “I get one phone call, right?  Can I make my phone call, now?” 

“Oh, no, Mrs. Baker, you’re not under arrest.  Goodness, no, you’ve got a clear alibi.  You can call whoever you want.  I’ll give you some quarters for the phone, or you can even use yours, it doesn’t matter either way.” 

Almost worried that he had first jumped to the word, “alibi,” instead of picking up on her humor, Mrs. Baker added, “I was kidding.  It’s a joke.” 

“Oh.  Haha.  Yes, ma’am.  Go right ahead.” 

“Thank you.”  Even in the worst of moments, Jules tried to keep her humor.  Even when you’re at your worst, you should always try to look your best.  And you should always try to act your best.  So Jules threw out that patent humor of hers whether it was to make people laugh when she wanted them to or make her smile when she needed it. 

And Jules needed all of the smiles she could get right now.  She called her parents and cried with them for a minute.  They’d already heard and had actually been trying to get in touch with her while she was in Officer Rodriquez’s car, but weren’t able to.  Before she hung up with them, they promised to meet her at the station as quick as they could get there. 

It was easy talking to her parents, because as much as they loved Will, it was mostly their sympathizing with her own pain.  But to call Will’s parents meant telling them that their only other child was gone.  It was just a few years ago when the pastor of Horizon Baptist walked over with the police to see them and deliver the news.  Though Jules wasn’t there, she heard about the pain and anguish they had gone through and could just see it on their faces.  And as much as she didn’t want to, it was time for her to deliver a similar blow. 

Jules pressed each number with a definite certainty, delaying the moment when she would actually have to tell them.  The phone rang.  And it rang.  And it rang.  She thought for an ever too fleeting moment that she could avoid this, but then… “Prince Hotel, how can I help you?”  The sweet, Hawaiian young lady on the other end answered, promising a service that Jules didn’t want. 

“Yes, ma’am, could you connect me to…” she choked back, having to say, “…Mr. and Mrs. Baker’s room?  It’s an emergency and I really need to talk to them?” 

“Your name?”

“Jules Baker, I’m their daughter-in-law.”

“Right away, Mrs. Baker.  I’ll put you through.”

In her ear, the on-hold ukuleles and tropical breezes played, almost distracting Jules with the paradise she was about to shatter for her mother and father-in-law. 

“Hello?”  She waited for a second, then repeated, “Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Erin.  I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, hey!  How are you, Jules?  How’s the garden?”

“It’s all good.  I was working out in it this morning,” hoping to hold on to conventional conversation as long as she could. 

“Is something wrong, dear?  You sound upset.  What’s wrong?”  Erin, never losing her motherly sense, could tell that Jules had been crying, and she wanted to do whatever she could to help the poor girl who had given her a daughter.  “Did you and Will get in a fight again?  What did he do?”

“No,” cutting off her mother-in-law quickly, not wanting to even think of the bad times between her and Will.  “No, that’s not it.  Erin.  Something happened.”

She waited for a second, counting the red dots in the speckled floor of the police station.  She watched the officers walk around with folders in their hands, trying to piece together various puzzles of what had happened in Horizon that day. 

“Erin.  He’s dead.” 

Neither of them spoke, waiting for Jules to clear up what she meant.  Every part of Erin wanted to scream back at her, ask her who she meant, and make her say it wasn’t her son. 

“Will’s dead, momma.” 

The next few minutes in Hawaii were hard for Jules to hear, as she was shouting “Oh, God” and kept denying it, knowing it wasn’t true.  “No, it can’t be.  He can’t be.  Phil, No.  Phil, it can’t be.  Will’s dead.”  And the three of them cried together, his dad asking her what happened.  How he died.  Who did it.  She wanted to tell him, but Jules didn’t know.  And what she did know was fear that it was her fault and that the other man she loved had done it because of her, but she couldn’t tell them this.  She couldn’t do it.  As much as the Baker’s needed their daughter-in-law now, she needed them, and Jules couldn’t have the only other people feeling her pain to blame her for it all as much as she did. 

“We’ll be headed out first thing in the morning, okay, Jules?  We’ll be there with you by this time tomorrow night if we can get a flight out.  Be strong, okay?  You know…you know he loved you, and you know he wouldn’t want you to be hurting.” 

The two women shared a short cry, one parting goodbye to acknowledge what had happened to them.  They would soon be discussing funeral arrangements and burials, but for now all they wanted was to cry together, and hold each other over the phonelines, and console a pain that would take more than sleep to beat. 

Jules looked down at the wedding portrait in her hands during the lull in conversation, thinking back to that day and talking to Erin about her son in a real way for the first time. 

“You know, he’s a strong boy.  He really loves you, he does, but he can be difficult at times.  He can be stubborn.  After all, he is a man.”  Erin and Jules laughed together, just like sisters would, or a mother would with her daughter. 

“I can’t blame him for that, can I?  I’m sure I can train him up right, though.  I’ll get him fixed,” said Jules, looking off at her man in the distance helping her father and a young kid who sometimes worked stock at the grocery store come to volunteer load up the wedding gifts. 

“Right.  I’ve been saying that about Phil for almost thirty-three years now.”  Before the women could laugh again, they were interrupted by a crash and a scene probably more common than expected at a wedding, but still out of place. 

The young boy had dropped a box of tumblers, very nice crystal from one of Jules’ aunts, and Will would not have any of it.  After angrily picking both the boy and his box up, he berated the poor kid, embarrassing him in front of the whole crowd.  “What were you thinking?  It was one box!  One box, and it isn’t even particularly heavy!  God!  Pick those up over there, at least you can’t break it.  And be sure to have your boss pay for this one when you talk to him.  You had to go and ruin my wife’s wedding day.  Why did you even bother showing up if you weren’t competent enough to carry one box of glass dishes?  You must be a great stock boy, let me tell you.”

She had never seen him get this hot, and wouldn’t have expected it on a day he was supposed to be very happy.  It was the first time that Jules had doubted her decision to marry Will.  The first time she had wondered what she was getting herself into, and whether or not it was a good idea.  That was a big deal to Jules, a woman who rarely doubted herself.  If she made a decision, she did it with thought and precision, never leaving room for doubt.  But now she did have doubt, just wondering if maybe it was a mistake, only after witnessing her new husband fly off at a slight, meaningless nudge.  Jules’ father helped to calm him down, diverting everyone’s attention from the scene with a hearty laugh and a smile. 

“And then there’s that,” Erin said, somewhat giving away her own embarrassment and a little shame for bringing any on the new daughter she loved so much.  “But don’t worry, Jules, he’s really gentle.  I’m sure you won’t have to see him get that way with too many people, and certainly not you ever.  He used to get real mad at Nikki, just flying off and yelling and waving his arms, but she’d control him pretty well.  She just gave him a look and put him right back in place,” Mrs. Baker added, gleaming back, thinking about her girl.  “Well, I’ve taken enough of your time.  Have a good evening, dear, and try to enjoy your honeymoon.  The real world is back here waiting for you afterwards.” 

Jules looked at the picture in her hand, wanting back the happy life she had that day, and the one she dreamed would be there for the rest of her years.  After she said goodbye to the woman, the one who gave her a husband, Jules called the man who kept her alive.  She still wasn’t sure what to think of Rob, whether she could trust him right now or not, but she knew well that he was the only one who could make her feel better tonight.  So she stepped outside of the station, somewhere safe, to call the man she thought may have killed her husband, but she knew loved her very much.

“Hey, baby.  Are you okay?  Where are you?  Do you need to stay with me tonight?”

“No, no, I’m fine.  Down at the police station.  I’m going to stay with my parents tonight, they’ll be here soon.” 

“Jules, you can’t go back in that house.  I won’t let you do that.”

“I know, I know, I won’t.  I couldn’t sleep there again, not without him,” or you, she thought to herself.  “I’ll be with my parents.  That should help some.”  They listened to each other breathe for a minute, reminiscent of those days in high school where they would talk for hours and sometimes not talk at all.  “God!  I just.  I just wish I could wake up in your bed again.  I wish I could just wake up and you be there looking at me like you do.  I just wish you’d never gotten that phone call, that none of this had ever happened.  I wish I could undo it all!  God, I can’t do this anymore!”  She screamed in anger, now thankful that she was outside where no one would hear what she said to Rob in passion, a secret passion she couldn’t afford to be careless with, or else take the lens of suspicion on herself and have the rest of the world feel about her like she does now.

“I know, babe, I know, but we’ve got to be careful, now.  If anyone finds out about us, it’ll be real bad.  They might think that I had something to do with it, or worse you.  I know you loved your husband, and people won’t understand what happened with us, how we came together last night.  They won’t, and they’ll think we killed him.  Be strong, baby girl.  Be strong.”

“You’re right, I know.  I’m sorry, Rob.  It’s hard.  I miss him, Rob.  I thought I could leave him.  I thought I didn’t love him anymore, but I did.  I do.  What was I thinking, Rob?”  She rambled on and on, losing control really for the first time all day, really doubting what she had done with Rob for the first time, really doubting a lot of things for the first time.  She wandered back to that afternoon, thinking about waking up in his bed, wishing it were enough to make the evening go away.  She remembered Rob’s smell on the pillows.  She remembered Rob’s rough hands holding her when he told her.  She remembered the sunshine coming in from the window.  And she remembered what really woke her up. 

Jules thought back as hard as she could, now, not letting any of the trauma hide her memory like it was prone to do.  She couldn’t remember a phone call.  It wasn’t a ringing phone that woke her up like she thought.  It was the front door.  It was the sound of Rob’s boots on the hardwood floors through the kitchen, the water running in the sink, and the sound of his feet running back to the bedroom.  It was the sound of his bedroom door opening and it was the sunshine in her eyes.  The phone never rang.  And she knew now that she didn’t see Rob getting dressed.  It seemed so small to her at the time, but she realized now, Rob was busy taking his shoes off so she wouldn’t see him dressed.  But why would he hide that?  What had he done that required him to hide? 

“Rob,” her tone changing, becoming much more questioning and more or less certain of something.  “Where did you go this afternoon?”

His answer, in stark contrast to her question, came slow and hard, testing his words before speaking them, unsure of what exactly she knew or suspected.  “I was, I was out.  I went to go get you something to eat, but I came back and heard the phone ringing.  That’s when, that’s when they told me.” 

“Right.  Right, the phone,” added Jules, an expert at trying to get people off task, easily recognizing Rob’s cruel attempts at easy grief.  “I don’t remember a phone, Rob.  It never rang.”

“I meant my cell phone.  It rang in the car and I was running in to tell you.  It’s this day, this…day that’s got you so out of sorts.  Are you sure you don’t want me to come up there?” 

True, Jules could remember nothing from the time that Rob told her about Will to the time she was talking to police at her house, but she remembered the seconds before perfectly well.  She remembered, now, the worried look on Rob’s face.  She remembered the way he tried to hide his own fear.  She remembered the drops of red on his shirt that had passed her notice earlier.  “I don’t want you up here, and your phone didn’t ring.  No, it didn’t.  You killed him.  Oh my…Rob.  You killed him!” 

“I swear to you, no, I didn’t!  Let me come up there and talk to you.  Tell you what happened, tell you what…” as she cut him off. 

“No.  It’s over, Rob.  I’m telling them what I know!  I’m telling the police that you killed my husband!”  She screamed at him and threw the phone away, assuming it hung up, while she cried into her hands once more, this time with the different tears, the furious tears of someone who had been so bitterly deceived.  She had killed her husband, in reality.  She had made Rob think that she loved him, and he killed for that love. 

About then, one of the officers on a smoke break came out back to find Jules in this horrible state.  “Oh, Mrs. Baker, there you are.  Come on in, they’ve been waiting for you,” and upon seeing her tear stained shirt, “…that is, unless you need a minute.”

“No, I’m coming.”

She walked slowly down the hall, finding herself whistling that same old tune that Will had sung time after time to her, and hummed around when he didn’t think she would be bothered by it.  The sad tunes of Waylon Jennings weren’t so bad coming out as a whistle, but she knew the words just as well, and she knew the pain behind them even better now that he wasn’t there to whistle it for her.

In the sheriff’s office, where apparently the investigation into Will’s death was already going full steam, there was a board of evidence by the wall.  A few men in suits, out of uniform she supposed, were wondering over it.  She saw on the board what looked like were probably the contents of her husband’s pockets, with a few hundred dollar bills and a business card, presumably from one of his clients.  She saw pictures of people she assumed were suspects all over the board.  As soon as all the men in the room noticed her arrival, everyone looked back at the sheriff where he sat at his desk waiting for her. 

“Mrs. Baker, first I just want to tell you that you have all of our condolences, and we’ll get you down to the coroner as soon as we can to claim your husband’s body.  But, if you don’t mind, we want to ask you a few questions.  We want to talk to you about some things.  Now,” the stereotypical small-town sheriff, a comically large man with a typical handlebar mustache shuffled himself into the seat, looking back over at the men in suits as if for permission or a warning, “we have a few folks we want to ask you about, but I didn’t want to go too far without asking you.  Can you think of anyone, and I mean anyone at all, who would want to hurt your husband?  Does anyone come to mind?”

“Yes, sir.”  She thought for a minute.  She had to give him something, now, but it wasn’t too late to make up a name or blame some angry client at the bank she felt he spoke of.  Did she have to condemn herself now, and did she have to sell the man she had loved into murder?  It wasn’t too late to save them both, but it wasn’t too late to tell the truth for her husband’s sake.  For her first love’s sake, even if it meant crucifying her second love.  She knew this was right, and she knew what she had to say.  “Yes, sir.  I think it was Robert Evans, the fireman.  I think Rob killed my husband, Will Baker.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: First of all, in case you didn't catch it, we're moving around on the timeline this week.  This all happens in the evening, after the events of Episodes 2 and 3, immediately following Episode 1.  Oddly enough, this was just supposed to be a filler episode to help transition from introducing the main storylines to getting into the next phase.  However, I really enjoyed getting into the story behind it all here, so I hope y'all enjoyed the short detour.  Next week, we'll be back on track with another character focus, starting early in the morning and leading up to the realization that something isn't right, and someone will probably utter the words, "Will Baker is dead."  If you hadn't noticed it yet, that keeps happening.  Who do you think it'll be next week?  Which characters are you looking forward to seeing?  I'm excited about it, and I hope y'all are, too.  Let me know what you think!  As always, you can comment on here, you can talk to me on Facebook (Adam Wynn; facebook.com/adam.wynn), Twitter (@42Cobras), or you can just send me a smoke signal.  Seriously...I read all forms of fan mail.  
Two more things and I'm done.  First of all, I am SO sorry this is late.  I had tried to get it on time, but it wasn't going to happen.  I wasn't done writing yet, and I hadn't had a chance to check it, much less I had a doctor's appointment at 3:50, so publishing at 4pm wasn't happening.  Lastly, don't forget to keep using the honorary 42Cobras Facebook Chat code, :42:.  If you do, you get a cool icon in FB chat.  And it's all for us here at 42Cobras publishing!  I mean, what else could a red 42 be for?  Which reminds me, (I know, this makes three things) I'm working on a logo and new layout for the blog.  I'm hoping it'll be revealed soon, but not yet.  Still working on some ideas.  Have a great 4th of July weekend, and watch out for those aliens!  If they can get the White House and the Empire State Building in the same night, they can surely get you.  Let's just hope that Will Smith, Bill Pullman, and the whole ID4 crew will be there to save the day.  

Will Baker is Dead, Episode 3 - "The Pain of Time"

She blinked a few times, thinking back over her loss.  The sun had not yet come up, yet she laid there awake.  “What am I gonna do without you, baby?  How am I gonna make it?”  The woman felt her chest, a pain in her heart not unlike the one that claimed her husband all those years ago.  As Veronica turned over in bed and looked at the picture on her mantle, the one next to her old, red digital clock flashing in the darkness, she sighed.  Veronica had been without her husband over ten years now, and it was always nights like this when she missed him the most.  Talking softly and slowly to her husband, though to speak above a whisper would give away the illusion, “I miss you, Archibald.  I miss you, bad.  Happy anniversary, love.” 

            The old lady had given over to the fact that she would never get back to sleep now.  Even if it was just past 5am, the sun would start nosing over the horizon within the hour, and she could never sleep through that.  Between the light skies and the birds, it would take a miracle for Veronica Davis to sleep past 7am these days.  She spent the first hour getting herself ready for the day.  She put the rollers in her hair first, because today was a special day.  And it was going to be a tough day.  It’s always best to look your best when the days are at their worst.  Veronica had always told Archie Sr. that, and now she tried real hard to tell herself. 

            The house was as quiet as usual, but this morning Veronica had to work at keeping the volume down.  Her grandson, Archie, was in town.  That is to say, he was further in town.  His parents, his dad being Veronica’s son, lived on the other side of town towards the more suburban parts of Horizon.  The cynics called it “Metro Horizon,” since everything out that way seemed to revolve around the only other real city close enough to count.  Her son, Archie Jr., had said that they wanted to stay close to her with his father gone, but not close enough to buy the then vacant, brand new house across the street.  Now, a nice young couple lived across the street and occasionally looked in on Mrs. Davis to make sure she was taken care of, and her daughter-in-law would bring the grandson by to visit and to give her some alone time.  She knew how the game worked, but Veronica didn’t mind.  She’d been around long enough to see that you take opportunities when they’re given, no matter how ill-meant they are. 

            Now Archie (technically the Third, but he didn’t go by that) slept late in the summer, and Mrs. Davis didn’t want to wake him up.  So she took her morning tea out to the front porch, rollers still in and all.  By now, the dark blue sky had tints of orange, just peeking up over the tree line and the new houses across the street from her.  Or at least newer. 

Mrs. Davis and her husband had moved closer to town back in the late fifties after they married and after some problems had come up in the old neighborhood, but then the town caught up to them a good forty years later.  By the time builders were asking to buy their home, Archie Sr. had been dead a few years, and she couldn’t stand to part with it, so Mrs. Davis stayed put where she was.  This had been their home for so long that she couldn’t stand moving.  Archie Jr. kept telling her to move in with them near Atlanta, but he wouldn’t be willing to buy the house across the street from them.  They eventually compromised, but it took some work on her part. 

So as he slept, Mrs. Davis sat on her porch and admired the waking neighborhood she found herself in.  It was a nice place, full of beautiful gardens and well planned out sidewalks.  Most of the driveways had cars no older than three or four years old, most of the houses had kids no older than a year.  And here was Mrs. Davis with a ’78 Buick she couldn’t stand to part with and a twelve year old sleeping in the back room.  Not to mention the fact that she was a good fifty years older than the average homeowner on the block.  It made her laugh, usually, thinking about how little she really fit in the neighborhood she predated and had lived in for so long.  Today, it just made her think about how much she missed the man who made her belong. 

While the sky was still dark enough to dream, she slipped back in her mind to the day their lives were set.  They’d dated a little while, the much coveted Veronica Wallace of Horizon and Archibald Davis, but they’d broken up because he lied to her about his job.  Most importantly, he didn’t actually have one yet and had been spending all of his money from his last job on her.  Well it happened that there was a barn dance that night a little ways out of town, and so Veronica wanted to go and dance off the blues that he’d given her.  And as small as the town was, all the young men had heard of Archie’s bad fortune and made their way out, too. 

About halfway through the evening, with Veronica dressed in the finest thing she could come up with, and about fifteen guys asking for a dance, Archie walked in with coveralls and a wrench.  “Veronica!  Veronica!” he called to her, hoping to find the beautiful lady who escaped him before someone else did.  “Veronica, I need to talk to you.”

“What do you want from me, Jonah?” 

Uncharacteristically ignoring her attempt at annoying him, “Veronica.  I love you…don’t talk yet.  I love you, and I’m not gonna let this go.  I lost my job, and you’re right, I should’ve told you, but I thought that would send you away.  I lost my job, I didn’t quit.  They couldn’t pay me no more.  And I got a new one.  I spent all week looking for a new job just to get you back, and I told them I would do whatever they needed, at whatever price, and woman, I’ve got a job down at the mechanic’s.  Is that better?  I’ll work at whatever I have to.  I will work at whatever it takes to get you back.”

“Well congratulations at being employed Mr. Davis,” in mocking tones, “but that isn’t enough.  If you could go back and tell me the truth from the first, it might be enough, but this isn’t.  I’m sorry, Archie, but it won’t work.”

“Come on, V.  I didn’t tell you because I wanted to spend my money on you.  I wanted to spend my time on you, and I knew you wouldn’t let me without a job.  I could’ve gone another month on what I’d saved up, but I got a job and I’m trying to do it your way.  Please, baby, give me another chance.”

“No.  There’s nothing you could say or do, and that’s it.”  Truth is, she wanted him just as bad as he wanted her.  That’s why she hadn’t danced with a single one of the men, but she wouldn’t let on.  It was about then that the perfect song came on for Archibald, as “Fats” Domino started wailing out “Ain’t That a Shame.”  Without so much as asking, Archie walked over and picked that girl up in his arms.  While the big man moaned over 78, Archie spun the little lady around on the floor and kept doing what he could to win her over, but it had already been done.  By the end of the dance, he was forgiven, and by the end of the month, she was Mrs. Davis.  And had been ever since.

She came back to herself in time to see the nice young couple across the street, Will and Jules Baker, kissing each other goodbye for the day.  Veronica was especially fond of the young wife, Jules.  Jules would often come by and talk about gardening with her, and Veronica didn’t mind dispensing a few tips ever since she’d been out of the game with her bad arthritis.  In fact, she felt good about helping such a nice young woman grow such a beautiful garden, even if Jules did manage to overtake the longstanding record that Veronica held with such pride.   They were a beautiful couple, and seeing them this particular morning made Veronica feel a little better about the state of the world. 

After a while, she went in to replenish her morning tea and check on Archie, who still slept.  Veronica carefully pulled the rollers out of her hair, keeping that perfect curl that she held on to with unflinching strength.  As with most things in her life, it was how Archie Sr. had loved it, and so that’s exactly how she kept it.  The rest of the morning went about like this, calm and smooth.  Around 9am or so, Jules came over to just chat.  They talked about husbands and love and what Mrs. Davis spied from her porch that morning.  They talked about Archie and how he was growing up, seeing as how Mrs. Baker had really helped him out in her first year at the elementary school, getting him some help with these bigger boys that were picking on him.  But mostly, they talked gardening.

The poor girl was fretting about moles in her garden, something that Mrs. Veronica knew nothing about.  Veronica thought for a second, but she’d never dealt with them.  In fact, Veronica had never heard of anyone who’d ever had to deal with them in Horizon, but she wouldn’t let that affect it.  But she was not to let the girl who had done so much for her go without some help, even if it was made-up. 

“Not usually, no, but one or two occasions I did.  They lost me the ’83 Garden of the year, I don’t mind you knowing.”  Actually, she lost the ’83 contest due to a fight between her and Archie Sr. which led to him tearing the garden up, but Jules didn’t need to know that.  “But after a while, I learned to put a little pepper in my garden.  Yes, black pepper,” trying to really sell the story.  Veronica could tell that Jules wasn’t buying it.  “Put a little black pepper in the soil around your plants and it’ll keep those bugs out of your garden for a whole season.  It messes with their noses, and all those blind diggers have to see with their noses.” 

She had thought for a minute about the most plausible thing she could make up to tell her, as Veronica had never dealt with wildlife of that size in her garden.  That didn’t mean she’d never heard of solutions, but none of them were ever tested.  She’d heard of certain flowers that warded off moles, but they were all ugly or smelled bad.  She’d heard of other insects you could introduce to the environment that might prevent their taking up residence, but it was never advised to put extra bugs in the soil, because you never know when your flowers are their meal.  After a few seconds of hesitant stalling, she finally settled on something that almost made sense, and that was mixing black pepper in the soil. 

“I…guess I’ll give it a try.  Thank you, Mrs. Davis.”  Jules didn’t seem to believe it too well, but Veronica heard no complaints or protestations. 

“Anytime, my dear.  And don’t you forget what I was saying about your husband.  That’s a good solid love you’ve got there.  Hold on to him.  One day he’ll be gone like my Jonah,” she added, still unable to get him off her mind.  “And you know what they say.  The men always die first.” 

“I surely hope so, Mrs. Davis.  Well you have a good rest of the morning, and I’ll see you later.” 

Jules walked away with a smile, which came across about as odd as her answer to Mrs. Davis’ joke, but it was nothing to fret over.  For another couple hours, Mrs. Davis sat on the porch and read the paper or just admired the kids who would run by from down the street and wave at her.  Being the only older woman on the block, she became a surrogate grandma for the kids who could walk about freely, often making cookies for them.  But today, she got to be MawMaw again while Archie was in town. 

“MawMaw, what’s for breakfast?”

“I was thinking about making you some macaroni and cheese like you love so much.  That sound good?”

“For breakfast?”

“Well when you’re breakfast isn’t until close to 12:30, then yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Mamma V.  I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” he lied, perfectly accepting the habit he survived off of so well. 

“Let’s go on in there and get you something fixed up.  Then I’m gonna take you to town in a little bit.  We’ve got some errands to run.”

After the two had lunch, Archie, or Jonah as he liked to go by now, with his macaroni that kids love so much and Mamma V with her simple sandwiches, they got ready for their trip to town.  Making a big lunch for Jonah made MawMaw, or Mamma V, or whatever he felt like calling her, feel like old times when she’d make this big lunch for the whole family on Sunday afternoon, usually involving collards and corn and all sorts of tow from the garden.  Today, some little plastic pasta and semi-fresh liquid cheese mix was her feast, and her favorite customer ate it all up.  “Now, you go and finish getting dressed, put on some clean shorts, and we’ll go to town, okay?”

Jonah loved going to town with Mamma V.  It was more fun with her than with his mom.  They always went to the busy stores in the city where she would have to watch him with both eyes and keep him tied to her hip almost.  Veronica would let him run in and do things for her and pick up something special for dinner all by himself.  Horizon Groceries was a safe enough store to allow for what would pass as carelessness most anywhere else.  “Jonah, son, can you run in and fill my prescription and pick up a roast for dinner?  I’m gonna go over here to the bank and it may take a while.  You’ll finish before me, so when you do, I want you to come on over to the bank.  Do you think you could walk safely across the parking lot?”

“Yes, MawMaw.  I’ll see you in a little bit!” 

And as he ran off towards the store, she shouted back at him, “And make sure they don’t short change me this time on the medicine!  They’ve come up about three days short going on a year now.”  Unsure whether or not he heard her, Veronica Davis went on over and parked by the bank.  It wouldn’t take her long.  Just a few minutes to go in and put some money in savings from her social security check.  She had already prepared her deposit slips and everything. 

“Well hello there, Mrs. Davis.  How’s my favorite neighbor today?”

“I’m doing real well, Mr. Baker.  Saw that wife of yours this morning.  She was looking real pretty in them gardening clothes.  Makes me wonder what you’re doing here instead of being home.”

“Well someone’s gotta make money for her to buy gardening clothes, Mrs. Davis.”  The two laughed, while he rang up her transaction.  “I could set my watch by you, Mrs. Davis.  Every week, right at lunchtime, I see you come in here with this check.  You know you can do this online now, right?”

“Child, if I knew how, I might.  Save my knees having to walk up here.”

“Still dealing with that, eh?  How’re the pills working for you?”

“Oh, they help, alright.  But it’s still there.  Some things you just can’t fix, Mr. Baker, I tell you.”

“I know how it is.  So is Archie staying with you this week?”

“Oh yeah, he’s over at the store picking up some…”

“Mr. Baker, I’ve got a man on the phone here, says he’s looking for a Bill Walker.  I guess he means you?”  The secretary in the back office came out and interrupted their cordial conversation.  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, hi Mrs. Davis, but he said it was important.”

“Yeah, it’s for me.”  Explaining it to Mrs. Davis, “A few of my clients keep getting the name wrong.  It’s been happening since elementary school, back when your husband would come in and make lunch on occasion.  In fact, I think he was the first to do it, and all the other kids picked up on it.  Drove me mad,” he reminisced, turning back to the secretary, “Yes, let me finish with Mrs. Davis, and I’ll be right there.”  He had the artful way of switching up his voice, speaking genially and almost like a Southern gentleman talking to Mrs. Davis, then with a professional starkness as he worked with the young lady from the back offices. 

“Well I’ll get out of your way, then, and you can go take care of your work.  Have a good afternoon, Will.”

“Thank you, ma’am.  And here.  Take a few lollipops for Archie.  He’ll like these.” 

She’d almost forgotten about him and where she had to go next.  “Oh, he don’t need anything like that.  Thank you, though.”  On her way out, Mrs. Davis passed by Ames Laurence, the owner of Horizon Groceries, probably coming in to work on payroll for the next week.  The two both lived on a pretty standard schedule, so this happened on occasion.  “Ames, how good to see you again!” 

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Davis!  How’s Jonah?”

“Oh, he’s good, he’s good.  I’m on my way to pick him up now over at your store.”

“Well, I won’t keep you.  Have a good evening.  Come on in and see me some time.  I’ve always got a special stash of pastrami waiting to make those sandwiches you do so well.”

“I will real soon, yessir.”

Veronica thought about walking to the grocery store, after all, it was only right across the parking lot.  But with her arthritic knees, and her having been out of medicine for almost a week now, it just wasn’t going to work out this time.  So, she drove on over to the other side of the lot, and parked right up front where she could.  Now it was time to put her old self to work.  Ever since she was younger, back when she first met her Archie, Veronica had a way of working men over.  She always thought that she’d lose those feminine whiles as time wore on, but it only got better.  She learned the old secret that no matter what age you are, a woman has a way of speaking to a man that can block his mind of whatever else he should be thinking.  When she was young, it was her beauty that did it.  As she got older, it was that subtle maternity that got men wanting to please her.  Even if she got old, that never did.

She was certain that she’d given Jonah enough time to get her prescription and enough time to buy some roast, and he should be well in position now.  For the last few months, Mamma V had had her suspicions, but now it was time to see what they came to.  She walked slowly inside to the manager’s desk, just standing where she could see the cameras for the store.  There was the stationery camera that covered aisles two through seven, the overhead that saw aisles six through thirteen, and the one over the deli.  There was the stationary camera that watched the offices where the money was kept, and another stationary that watched the parking lot.  Then there was the rotating camera that watched behind the store.  That was the one that Veronica needed to see. 

“Brannon James, how are you?”  Veronica saw a young boy who used to bring her papers to the house.  Or at least he was a young boy, then.  Now he was a bit older, working as a manager and stock boy at the grocery store.  “And how’s that brother of yours?”

“Mrs. Davis, how are you!  I’m good, I’m good, just working here and making some money for the summer.” 

“Well you’re doing a fine job, Brannon.  You’re doing a fine job.”

“Well thank you.  And Nick’s doing well.  He’s getting ready for his senior season of football this year, hoping he can attract some school’s attention.” 

This conversation went on and on for a few minutes, keeping up casually about school and friends.  He even went so far as to mention a girl to Mrs. Davis, something she hadn’t planned to elicit from him during their façade of speech.  All the while, she kept glancing up at the cameras.  On the one she wanted, the rotating camera behind the store, she saw Jonah standing there for no apparent reason.  She tried not to give away her real purpose, keeping up appearances with the boy.  He talked on about where he wanted to go to school, ignoring the line of customers behind her.  Ignoring his job, really.  For a while, he almost asked her to go on, but Veronica started playing the helpless lady.  “Now I came in here looking for my grandson, have you seen him?”  And it worked like a charm.  He called an associate to go look for him, keeping up conversation, letting the camera rotate back and forth.  And after a good five more minutes, she had her answer.

There, on camera, Veronica’s heart broke.  She’d known, but never seen.  And now that she’d seen, she didn’t want to.  There stood Jonah, talking to a large man, probably about 6’5” and very stocky, and he pulled the cap off of her pills.  The camera rotated away, looking back to the loading dock, then back to Archie, folding up a few hundred dollar bills and putting them in his pocket.  She tried to hold herself in, and she succeeded at least until she got to the car.  She explained away herself to Brannon by remembering where she’d told Archie to meet her.  As most old women do, she managed to hide her feelings until she made it away from the store.  But when she got to the car, when she hid herself away, poor Veronica felt the disappointment of a failed child once more.  She felt how it was when her own son had gone away and dropped out of school, only for her to force him back in a month later.  She felt how it was when her oldest daughter shouted at her and promised never to call her again.  She felt once more how it was when, all those years ago, her own husband died without saying goodbye or “I love you,” that day, and it was as fresh this day as it was then.  Her heart was broken in only the way a loving mother’s could, and it was all her fault.  It was her medicine, and her folly that let this boy become prey to the sins of the world, and she had to end it now. 

After another hour, Archie came back to the car.  She had tears on her face, but the heat let her pass them off merely as sweat.  “Good timing, Jonah, good timing.  I just finished up.  You ready to go home?”

“Yes, MawMaw.  Let’s go!”  And so they did.  With a smile on his face the size of a cow’s tale, and a box in his hands, the two slowly moved on back home.  Jonah ran in real quick to put on some playing clothes, taking the box with him, and Veronica poured some tea to take out on the porch with her.  Jonah carried the box out there with him, ready to join her for some tea, and ready to give her something special.  “MawMaw!  I want to show you something.  I want to show you something!” 

“Come sit down, Archibald.”  She spoke in plain tones, bereft of emotion.  It wasn’t the anger in her voice that made him feel uneasy, but rather the void of kindness so often found there. 

“What’s.  What’s wrong?”

“Just sit down, Archibald.”  Her empty voice, giving way now to the beginnings of a heartbreak she had no intention of laying upon her young grandson, the boy too young to experience the depths of the world he had already witnessed and partaken in.  “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it, MawMaw?  What’s happened?”

“I saw you.  I saw you, Jonah, I saw you.”  She began to quiver, but had not yet fallen.

“What?  What did you see, what did you see?”  She could tell he knew, but wouldn’t give up himself so easily.

“I saw you with that man behind the store, Jonah.  I saw you!  What were you thinking, selling my pills?  How could you do this?  I thought I’d…I’d done better on you than them, Jonah.  How could you do this to me?”

“MawMaw, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I…I have something I wanted to…”

“No.  If it came from that money, I won’t take it.  You leave now.  You leave.  Come back in a few hours, and your mom should be here by then.  I’m calling her to take you home, then you’re telling her everything.  I don’t want to see you, Jonah, so just go.  I won’t watch for you.” 

Jonah didn’t speak a word as he walked away, tears ready to come from his eyes.  He walked down to the sidewalk and just left, soundlessly.  When he was finally out of sight, after Veronica had watched him leave with each step, she cried and cried, the proverbial tears of blood staining her dress and weakening her tea.  The old woman tried to stand and go inside, to keep the world from seeing her pain, so evident on the floor.  As she stood, edging out of the chair she had stood from so many times before, the ground dropped out from underneath her.  Poor Veronica, unable to see the steps before her, fell down the stairs and into the street, with not a soul nearby to help her up.  The work crowd wouldn’t be coming home for another hour, and both of her neighbors across the street were gone. 

She laid there for what could have been an eternity, and finally tried to pull herself up the stairs.  No matter how hard she pulled, it was no use.  Her rigid knees kept pushing coarse against the bone, and her split side, made worse by the frailty of age, no longer worked.  She rolled in and out of the world, seeing her husband, her grandson, and her neighbors, not understanding where she stood or sat, not knowing what was wrong.  In her head, she heard the voice of a man long gone, “Happy Anniversary, girl.  Now get up, love.  Get up.”  She tried to stand, but couldn’t.  She tried to move, but couldn’t. 

“Help me, Archie.  Help me, Archie.  Oh, God, help me, Archie.  I can’t move, help me, Archie.”  And an arm came under her, helping the small lady to her feet, and putting her in a chair.  “Oh, thank you, dear.  Thank you, baby.  Oh, I missed you, Archie, oh I missed you baby.  Come here, let me kiss you again, let me kiss you.”  She spoke out of her mind, and Jonah did what he could to calm her down, but she still wasn’t right. 

“I’m here, MawMaw, I’m here.  I called the ambulance, they should be coming here soon.” 

“Oh thank you, Archie.  Go get me some water.  Go get me something, baby.”  Eager to help his Mamma V, he ran in to the house and left her there in pain, even though she couldn’t feel it in her mind.  The woman sat, looking out across the street, seeing the shadow of her house in the street, and a man she knew from his days at the grocery store coming out of Will and Jules’ house.  She saw him and his hands, standing out against the plain white of his shirt, now stained in a dark red that anyone with eyes would know at sight.  She called back for the boy, screaming for the phone.  Calling out to him, now remembering who it was standing there with her, fully in mind due to the panic she realized and the urgency of the happenings at her door. 

“Someone, please.  Someone, come quick,” she cried at the phone in her hand as the operator picked it up.

“911, yes ma’am, we got your call, Mrs. Davis.  An ambulance is on the way.”

“Forget the ambulance, you idiot, I can wait.  I think someone’s dead!”

“Excuse me?”

“I just saw Robert Evans run out of the Baker house with blood on his hands.  I think he,” taking stock of the cars that were home, “…I think he killed Will Baker!”  

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would love to hear what y'all think so far!  Write me on Facebook, let me know, and please keep reading.  I hope you're enjoying the story so far, and I hope you've started to develop your own ideas about what's going on in the town of Horizon.  Next week, in Episode 4, I plan on showing you a little bit more of the aftermath in "Epilogue, Part I" (Title Pending).  I know, the numbers and the timeline are getting difficult, but hang in there!  And as always, if you don't already, follow me on Twitter at 42Cobras!  And thanks for reading!

Will Baker is Dead, Episode 2 - "Compliance"

The slow Summer sun rolled across her floor, softly climbing up the bed, until after a few minutes it landed gently on her troubled face. Jules had not slept well, but she was awoken by the morning sun and the consequential birds all the same. Her heart and mind were both very heavy from what occurred just the day before, and how permanently those occurrences would taint today and every day after. Blinking once or twice to put out the sun, Jules brushed her hair back off her face and turned in her bed. Her next lie was as strong as the words that backed it up, as she lovingly ran her fingers across the man in her bed and smiled, speaking sweetly and softly to him, “Good morning, William. What would you like for breakfast?”


She used to be one for sleeping in, but two years of teaching had finally pushed the habit out of her. Now, the sun was her alarm clock all summer long. It didn’t help that her husband was responsible for opening the bank sharply at 8am. She had to get up and ready so he could. Just as the sun was her alarm, so was she for her husband. The poor man was helpless when it came to mornings. As smart as he was, and as well as he did in college, she had gotten used to calling him every morning to make sure he was up and ready for class.

Jules sat at the mirror doing her make-up while Will took a shower. They say that when two people are married, it requires the sacrificing of habits and old ways of life. Jules preferred quiet mornings where she could get ready in peace with the sound of the day coming on her slowly. Will preferred the morning show on WHRZ, the usual country station giving way to a morning full of classic rock and weekend hits. At least at present it was playing some Tom Petty, so Jules had a little bit of a compromise with fate, it seemed. Even still, this was nothing like his habit of constantly whistling the same old sad bar songs, his favorite being “Wurlitzer Prize.” Jules married Will because he was smart, had talent, and showed few of the country habits of most of the men in Horizon. It would figure that he would wait until after the honeymoon to show the worst one off.

Still, as Jules looked in the mirror, it took all of her strength not to cry. There sat a beautiful young woman of 25, long blonde hair and perfect features, wanting nothing more than to smash the image ahead of her in judgment for who she had become. If not for the music and the shower, she very well might. In the last month or two, she had grown too used to the empty mornings and the empty house that came with Will travelling. She had grown too used to filling her time with other friends and falling back into her own habits that when he was home, she couldn’t stand to revert. The conflict of heart that she presently faced with the courage of a warrior would only last so long until one side won out. A good few minutes after she finished applying the make-up, Jules still sat looking ahead in silence at the person mocking her from the other side. The person she was destined to become, one way or another. It was either that or a future of half-living and half-loathing. The question was which half merited the loathing?

After she mustered the courage to stand, Jules donned her favorite white bathrobe, the one with the cotton fuzz texture to it, and made a light breakfast for her and Will, balancing the bacon with some fresh fruit. If they were planning to have a baby soon, Jules needed to work on her dietary skills. The bacon popped and sizzled, occasionally catching her on the hand or her bare feet. If anyone had managed to look in through the open window, it would seem like Jules was participating in a perfect, mid-summer morning. The aroma of bacon melded with the dissipating rain that washed away in the sunlight after last night’s storm, creating a unique atmosphere, perfect for conversation. It would be, the one morning that she had hoped to avoid such things.

“That smells delicious, baby. And what’s this? Honeydew? I am spoiling you with the grocery budget.”

“I have my own money I can buy exotic fruits with,” laughed Jules, attempting to live up to her usual playfulness. “Now sit down and eat before you leave, it’s gonna be a long evening before dinner.”

“Really? Which one of us has a late night commitment?” Will asked, somewhat genuinely as he had a tendency to forget appointments.

“Oh, uh…don’t you have to work late tonight?” Knowing full well that he would be off at 6pm as usual, “And I don’t want you going hungry in those late meetings, or gorging yourself at some expensive lunch with a client. Just you remember that we don’t have the money that your people do, and if we’re going to start a family soon.”

Will smiled in his own way, looking down at the melon and grapes. “That’s right, we can’t waste that eighty-thousand a year I bring in, of course coupled with the meager salary of a hard working, slave driven third-grade teacher. We’ll be in the poor house before you know it.”

By now he was up behind her, running a hand across her stomach, approximately where a baby would first show. His left hand held hers while she tried to finish the bacon, his head nuzzling hers out of the way to get a peek at it. Jules, already shaken from the talk of families and babies, grew quickly uncomfortable with the cheery demeanor of her husband. He had been notoriously sullen over the last two months, and now it was as if he had woken up on Christmas morning to find a new car with a free plasma screen inside. He was happy, and it bothered her.

Almost on the verge of tears, she eased him off with a nudge. “Oh, baby, come on. It’s early, and they don’t need me at the bank for another thirty minutes. It’s Monday morning, and honestly, who needs to go to the bank at 8am on Monday morning.”

“Small business owners and other hard working people at the foundation of America’s economy. That’s who,” again smiling, even though she spoke with tears just beneath her eyelids, somehow expressing the sentiment of a Fox News reporter. “But if you’re serious about some time apart, let’s go fishing this weekend. Forget the fish fry. You and me, we’ll go fishing up at the lake, or we’ll go down to County Line River. What do you say?” She hated herself for doing it, but Jules knew that talk of fishing would get him out the door and gone in a hurry. He hadn’t fished in years, not since his sister died, and she knew it. It was a horrible trick to pull, but she couldn’t stand the new, loving husband he was trying to be. If the charade were to work, she had to keep thinking of Will as cold and apart, and that wouldn’t happen when he was talking of hooky and soothing her robe.

Without a word, he went back to breakfast and finished his fruit quickly, not waiting for any bacon to add. The air grew thick between them, mostly due to the silence enforced by Will’s hard eyes and his forceful forking up of apple slices. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to think of something we could do, and it…it just came out. Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. If you plan on gardening this morning, be careful. The rain washed through it pretty hard, and everything’s awfully damp. The flowers oughta be in good shape this afternoon, but the ground is still pretty soft. Try not to ruin the grass.” He grabbed up his coat and pushed on to the door, it seemed intent on leaving without a goodbye. But at the touch of Jules’ hand, he tossed back a sincere and almost apologetic footnote on his warning. “Just…be careful, Julia. I love you, and I just want to watch out for you. You know that right?” He had turned back to look her in the eye, but had to lift her chin to get there. “You know that, right?”

“Right. I’ll see you this afternoon, baby. Be safe!” She shouted out to him as he walked to the car, like something out of a cliché, but still it was enough to elicit his return for a goodbye kiss. The long kiss goodbye reminded Jules of their wedding day, but now it was of a different subtlety. It was tainted by the seeming separation of the last little while, even though it seemed to Jules the image of sincerity and felt of nothing more than the longing of love.

“See you later.” He smiled back at her and stepped into his car and off to the bank. And just like that, the hardest morning of Jules’ life was over. She dropped the robe in the laundry like a bad mask, and put on her gardening clothes. She knew that you don’t win the Horizon Garden Club award a third straight year by slacking off, so she stepped on outside, tending to her garden in a therapeutic manner. The flowers had in fact perked up a bit as Will predicted they would, given the harsh summer storm that poured through town the night before. He would know, he had to drive in from the airport in it. She checked on her tomatoes and peppers, the only edible greenery that Jules grew, and thought how good they would be on a salad very soon. Truth be told, she only had enough to make one or two salads, but something about a garden with no produce really felt out of sorts to her. Often times people would comment on how it was indeed this artful blend of vegetation and flora that made her garden so unique and successful.

Everything was fine until she came to planting her new batch of azaleas in the side garden. The soil was moist and fertile from the rain, sure, but it was also very loose as if some small animal had been digging around in it and burrowing its way through her plants. As Jules knew, it was only so much you can do to fix up a garden right once moles or the like got in there, and if she needed one more thing right now, it wasn’t losing the garden that preserved her sanity.

That being the case, Jules stepped on up and walked over to her neighbor across the street, Mrs. Veronica Davis. Mrs. Davis was an old black lady who lived in Horizon, and one of the few who lived on the strip. She had first moved out there for her husband’s work before he retired, but when he died, she never had the strength to move back. Now, she spent most of her time sitting on the front porch and watching the world around her pass on by. This was especially true in the summer when she could sit out there in the warm sun and talk to the kids who would walk by and play in the street in front of her house. At one time, Mrs. Davis had been the best gardener in town. In fact, she won the Memorial Day Garden of the Year ten times, including the first four straight, a record that Jules planned on breaking. Now that Mrs. Davis was struck with a terrible arthritis, she couldn’t garden anymore. On an occasional afternoon, Jules would walk over on the precept of having tea with her neighbor and try to winnow out a few gardening tips from her.

“Good morning, ma’am. How are you today?” As expected, Jules found her neighbor sitting out on the front porch with her tea and medicine. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but I saw that husband of yours leaving this morning, and I saw the kiss he planted on you as he left.” The old lady raised her eyebrow and gave a smile, knowing that she could only get away with speaking so honestly because of her age. “I sure am glad to see young couples like y’all getting on so well. Too many folks give up on love, marriage, and family. Makes me glad. Yes it does.”

Biting back, and hiding the pain, she passively agreed in kindness. “Well, thank you, Mrs. Davis. Is Archie by this week?”

“Oh yes, his mamma dropped him off last night while you were out. He’s still sleeping. That boy would sleep on through the day if I’d let him.”

“Will’s the same way. How is Archie? Is he liking middle school?”

“Oh, yeah. He loves it. He always hated walking in a line anywhere. That was his favorite part, finding out he didn’t have to walk in a line everywhere. But don’t let him catch you calling him Archie. He doesn’t go by that, anymore. He goes by his middle name now. It’s much cooler.”

“So, it’s…”

“It’s Jonah, now. Archibald Jonah Davis, just like his daddy. And his granddaddy. It’s funny, my Jonah never did like it, but it didn’t seem right to let him abandon a family name like that, so we named our son Jonah, and he named his Jonah, and now the crazy fool goes by Jonah. I tell you, his granddaddy would have a fit if anyone called him Jonah.” The two ladies shared a laugh and some tea, but then Veronica Davis, she knew what Jules was up to. “So tell me. Is something the matter with your garden, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is. I was digging out in it this morning and I found what looked like a burrow. Did you ever have trouble with moles or anything?”

“Not usually, no, but one or two occasions I did. They lost me the ’83 Garden of the year, I don’t mind you knowing. But after a while, I learned to put a little pepper in my garden. Yes, black pepper,” she said, answering the doubting expression of Mrs. Baker. “Put a little black pepper in the soil around your plants and it’ll keep those bugs out of your garden for a whole season. It messes with their noses, and all those blind diggers have to see with their noses.”

“I…guess I’ll give it a try. Thank you, Mrs. Davis.”

“Anytime, my dear. And don’t you forget what I was saying about your husband. That’s a good solid love you’ve got there. Hold on to him. One day he’ll be gone like my Jonah,” she said with a twinkling in her eye that likely came from a tear just as much as her own happy memories. “And you know what they say. The men always die first.”

As the two laughed out a goodbye, Jules headed on back to the house, and then to the store to pick up some pepper, against her better judgment. If anyone in town had an idea of how to fix this problem, it was the original green thumb herself. So after Jules cleaned herself up and got ready, she went on down to the store and commenced shopping. She couldn’t help but think about Victoria’s parting words, though. How she should cherish the man in her life while she had him. Jules wondered what more she could do to cherish the man who had left her alone practically for the last two months? This morning aside, even when he was home, Will seemed to be across the world from her. And she couldn’t cherish Rob because it was just wrong.

Even being back here at his old store was difficult. Jules remembered the time that her and Rob stood in the backroom of the store avoiding the rain. He’d promised to drive her home after work, and she was soaked from head to toe. She wondered how different things would have been if she would have kissed him that night. Nothing had told her to, nothing had hinted to her that it was a good idea, but she just knew now that he had wanted it. He had wanted her. But she never gave in.

Jules moved down each and every aisle, looking to make sure she didn’t need anything else other than her mole deterrent. She knew right where the pepper was, but something about the domesticity in wandering a grocery store felt right to her. As Jules rounded aisle six, past the fresh seafood section, she spotted Mr. Laurence, the store owner. It was frightening because she had thought it was Will at first, as they were both of the same height and build, both fairly tall men with slim shoulders and appropriately thin brown hair, and she knew they had been mistaken for each other in school on occasion, so that made it a little easier on her. Oddly enough, her first thought wasn’t at how odd that Will wasn’t at the bank, but rather at the fact that he was wearing an apron.

Mr. Laurence’s wife had gone missing about a month back under strange circumstances. Police said there was “evidence of a struggle” and that she in all likelihood had been forced out of her home, but nothing further was ever found. Naturally, suspicion fell on Ames Laurence at first, but nothing could really ever be proven. Jules was good friends with Melissa, Ames’ wife, and never believed him capable of hurting his own lovely bride.

“Hi, Ames. How are you today?”

“I’m doing well enough, Mrs. Baker. How are you?” His response was full of the false cheer of a man in denial, mixed in with the false demeanor of a businessman addressing a friend between the hours of 9am to 5pm.

“I’m doing alright. Say, Will and I were planning on having a fish fry this weekend, would you like to come over?”

“I sure do appreciate it, and you know we’ll gladly sell you all the fish you could want back here behind aisle 6, but I can’t. I don’t think Will’s too happy with me right now.”

“He doesn’t blame you for what happened, Ames, you know that.”

“I think he really does, Mrs. Baker, he really does. You know how he felt about Melissa. They were close friends, once. But I didn’t hurt her, and I certainly didn’t kill her.” She had been referencing something else, trying at all costs to keep the conversation away from Melissa for the poor man’s benefit. Then again, thinking back to the girl you allegedly ran over while drunk back in high school wasn’t a much better memory. Either way, it was a rough road to hoe.

“I know, Ames, I know.” In an attempt to smooth the moment, Jules decided to change directions a bit. “Hey, you’ve been to the Caymans. How are they? I’ve been wanting to go ever since we got married, but Will’s been reluctant. How can I convince him to take me next Christmas, maybe?”

“It’s really nice. The water’s 80˚ all year and the locals are very friendly. And it’s tax free, so he should like that. Melissa and I went on our honeymoon a few years back and it was…it was nice.” And for the second time today, Jules had managed to bring a man to tears at a sad memory. The difference is, this one was an accident.

She put a calm hand on the man, growing smaller with each defense he was forced to give, and each moment he was forced to relive. Melissa’s disappearance hit him hard, but he had a business to run. Ames’ father opened the grocery store many years back, right after he moved to Horizon as a young man looking for a place to make a living. It made him quite a living, too. In all the years that Horizon grew, and in all the changes, no outside grocery store ever survived within earshot of Horizon Groceries. It did so well that when Ames inherited the business at an early age, he was able to buy up some land and build a shopping center around the grocery store. They had a small jewelry shop, some niche restaurants, and a Great Clips. Every small town has to have a Great Clips. Ames had even sold the land that Will’s bank was now occupying.

“But look at me, blubbering like a baby on the floor. I’ve gotta get back to work, but, uh, do you need help finding anything? Do you have everything ready for the fish fry?”

“No thank you, Ames, I have everything. I’m just looking for some pepper for my garden.”

“I can’t say that’s the most normal thing I’ve ever sold, but okay. If you need any help, ask. And if you see that friend of yours, Rob, tell him I really wish he’d come back and manage the stockroom for me. It never has run as well as when he managed the back.”

Putting out a civil smile, “I’ll certainly do that.” And that’s what made up her mind. Jules had been debating all day whether to go see Rob or not, after last night’s events. She found herself in his arms once out of fear in a storm, and out of loneliness from her husband’s missing touch, but it was wrong. It was sullen and soiled, and she couldn’t find herself in the same position again, but she had to let Rob know it was off before he did anything foolish.

Rob lived a little ways out of town, past the stores and neighborhoods into what was still old Horizon. He preferred the more spread-out part of town, and embraced every aspect of it. Jules used to love the barbecues he would hold for friends and family on the farm during the summer. She loved seeing the rows of corn and his hayfields, not to mention the goats and one cow. Rob was a born farmer, and now that he lived on his own small farm and was able to make a living as a fireman one day out of every three, it was no surprise to anyone that he chose this path.

Jules drove out to Rob’s farm, trying to remember if this was a B shift day or a C shift day. Rob had been C shift for about a year now, and since then Jules always seemed to know what day it was on the county firemen’s schedule. Rob was as much a born farmer as he was a fireman. He had the build of one, kinda tall and broad, with a good head on his shoulders. He did well enough at school to leave town for college, but he never did enjoy that world as much as his own back in Horizon, so he came back and became a fireman pretty quick. And he fit right in with those guys, many of them locals around town. Many of them were the same firemen that had carried him home after he woke up drunk in his truck back in high school, or who helped him get that motorcycle out of the lake so he wouldn’t have to call his Dad and explain what happened. And they were the same firemen who were there when the chaplain told him about his Dad’s wreck. It was the place where he belonged, and it was the place where Jules wanted to belong with him.

As she pulled up to the front of his house, a small one level with a farmer’s bell out front that used to belong to Mr. Evans, his father, Jules ran through the gameplan in her mind. She was to go in, tell him it was over…no, it would never happen again, because for it to be over meant that there was something going much longer than a few hours, and that wasn’t the case, so it would never happen again, then she would leave and go home and make her husband a big dinner, explain everything, and beg him for forgiveness. That was the plan.

Jules stepped out of her car and was immediately assaulted by the summer sun, high up in the sky now, signaling the hottest days of the year and the hottest part of the day. By the time she reached the front door and rang on the doorbell, she was already sweating a little around her sunglasses. She knew how Rob hated those gaudy sunglasses that covered most of her face, so she wore them intentionally to ward him off, hoping to avoid his unimaginable charms.

“Hey, baby, come on in, it’s burning up out here. If I’d known you were coming I might’ve cleaned up a little better.” Rob leaned in for a kiss from the married woman, but she pushed him back and just walked right on in, talking as fast as she could.

“Look, Robert, we can’t do this ever again. It’s over.” Crap, she said it. “It’s over between us, and this can’t happen. I love my husband very much, and I can’t let you do this to him. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve this.”

“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday.”

It’s true. Before this morning’s show of affection from Will, poor Jules had spouted all of her deepest longings to the old friend over coffee the night before. They met up at a spot in town for drinks so she could vent, and they ended up behind the grocery store after the rain started to come down.

“I was wrong. He’s not a perfect man, but he is a good man, and I won’t have it anymore. You’ve always given me these, these sideways looks and winks, and I can’t resist you.” She didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t stop you, and I have to. You can’t let me do this to Will. I love him.”

“Are you trying to convince me or you of that fact?”

After a moment’s pause, “Stop it, Rob! If you’re really my friend, you’ll leave this alone!” It almost scared him a little to see her all fired up, as Jules was usually a more reserved woman, but he knew first hand the passion that she could unleash when she so desired. “Just stop. It’s done.”

“Do you remember that night a few years back when you were stuck out in the rain behind the grocery store? And I promised to give you a ride home, but you were all soaking wet and had to dry off in the back room? Do you remember that?” She did. “I think about that all the time. And I think you do, too. I wonder, what would’ve happened to us if we would’ve gotten together that night?”

Sheepishly, “I don’t think about it, and I don’t know.”

“I think you do, baby. I think you do.” He moved in ever closer, and whispered in her ears when he was finally close enough to do so. “I would do anything to keep you with me. I can’t let you go, Jules. I just can’t. It took me so many years to get you here, I can’t let you leave me.”

Deep down, Jules admitted the need she had felt for Rob, and the need she knew now would only be filled by what he could give her, but it was still wrong. What she wanted was wrong, but she wanted it nonetheless. “How do we do this, Robby? How do we do this? I have to be in your arms, but I can’t.” Jules finally crying, admitted to Rob what he already knew.

And in his own way, in his own soft and soothing way, he whispered back to her, “Sssh, sssh. It’s okay. The first time, the first time is passion. The second time is compliance.” She looked up with a strange sorrow in her eyes, analyzing his words, making sure she understood what he meant. Then she kissed him.

A little while later, she wasn’t sure how much later, Jules woke up to Rob standing on one leg fiddling with his shoe. The late afternoon sun played with her hair and danced in her eyes, as she lay on Rob’s bed facing the window. After a soft giggle and a flip of her hair, Jules asked, “Where do you think you’re going, Robert Evans?” Frightened at her being awake, the poor lecher lost his balance and fell. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry, are you okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” the fireman groaned out as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Robby. What time is it? Oh wow, I need to be going. I guess I fell asleep. See, this is how it’s supposed to work. You don’t leave me alone, it’s your house. I’m the one who leaves. I’ve gotta go home and get dinner ready Will.” And then she noticed the odd silence in the room, as Rob looked down at her and didn’t speak for a minute. “What’s wrong?” And still he wouldn’t speak. “Rob, what’s wrong?”

“You need to get dressed.”

“Rob. What is going on.”

He bit his lip, and then Rob told her the news. “Baby,” he said, taking her hand, “I just got a call from the station. They found him laying on the floor.”

“Be honest with me, Rob. What are you saying? Who’d they find? It’s not Will, it’s not Will.” She denied it, still not having heard the news in full yet.

“I’m sorry, baby, it is, it is.” He had to fight her to keep from hitting him. “You need to get dressed now, we have to go.”

“No! No! It’s not, it’s not!”

“I’m sorry, baby, but they found him beaten to death on the floor. It’s your husband. Will’s dead.”



Next Week: Episode 3, Friday at 4pm (or so)


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to know what y'all think. Who's guilty? Who's responsible? Who is victim and who is villain? Feel free to leave comments on here, Facebook, or Twitter. And if you don't already follow me on Twitter, it's @42Cobras. Until next week, and thanks for reading!

Will Baker is Dead - "Prologue"

Jules Baker, a lovely young woman of 25, stood outside the house with her friend Rob. Rob tried to comfort Jules as best he could on the front lawn of the two-bedroom home on the strip. Kids on bikes watched from the street corner three houses down. Veronica Davis sat on the front porch with her grandson, watching the house across the street. The first news crew stood watching the house from the curb, safely outside the police line. With the news crew, most of metro-Atlanta watched from wherever there was a TV. That aside, the world outside the house was moving on as so. But inside. Inside the house lay the mauled body that had been identified as Will Baker.



Jules and Will had been married for a little over three years now, having married right out of college, and had lived on the Main Strip of Horizon for almost the whole time. The strip was set-up like this. Everything East of the church was storefronts and little shops. Everything West of the church was houses, ever since they built the pastorum back in 1974. Most of these houses were small one-levels for old retirees or newlywed couples just getting started. A new “neighborhood,” most simply a section of houses, was added about every five years. By now, the neighborhoods on the strip stretched almost three miles out of town, only interrupted by the occasional school or gas-station that went up in-between phases, with one large section devoted to Horizon High School, built well out of town at first to avoid traffic complaints. But in all those years, through all these changes, there had never been a murder on the strip, especially not one that elicited terms like, “gross disfigurement,” from the police and media. The horrific murder of Will Baker was something the people of this town never expected to see. After the strange disappearance of Melissa Laurence, an old friend of the Baker’s, a month or so back, the people were on edge. But now, faced with the unimaginable murder of Will baker, they were terrified.


Will and Jules had a great life here. She taught at the elementary school when it was in session. Will was also a real academic type, working down at the new bank in town. He studied Physics and Finance in college, graduating in the top percent in both classes. They kept a clean house and, to everyone’s knowledge, had planned on having a baby soon. When Jules had time, she worked with her husband in the garden. For two straight years now, they’d won the Memorial Day Parade Garden of the Year. As the parade route wound through “downtown” Horizon and on through the strip, an inspector would ride one of the floats and judge each numbered garden along the way. Twice now, they’d come out on top. Jules had planted her rosemary and pansies, behind them fennel and columbines. The array of colors, as splendid as it was, spoke poetry as it craftily surrounded a single daisy. Jules could look now on all of these flowers in her garden, but could now only think of the ones that would adorn her husband’s grave.


As Jules ran her mind through all of her future worries and now ever current problems, she though on the most difficult one. Who could have killed her husband? Jules had trouble thinking of anyone who would want her husband dead. He’d had his problems, and had seemed worried about something that morning, but it couldn’t have lead to this. And she thought of the one possibility, but how could he have done it? It was impossible that he did it, because…well he just couldn’t have. But she couldn’t tell anyone. If anyone asked, especially the police, how could she tell them he was innocent without making him look even worse? All that Jules knew right now was that she could never let anyone know about her affair with Rob. She had just lost her husband, she couldn’t bear to lose the most important person in her life. But as afraid as she was to lose Rob, she was even more afraid to think he could have been involved with her husband’s murder.


She had known Rob her whole life. They were good friends, all throughout school, but only friends. That’s all they’d ever been. It wasn’t even really an affair to her. It had only happened twice. Will had been obviously troubled in the last month, spending more and more late nights at the bank or travelling for them. The new bank had some big clients out of town, and it was his job to keep them happy. With him gone, she felt vulnerable and in need.


Strange how she’d never seen Rob as anything more than her friend until her husband began distancing himself. In high school, they would spend afternoons together walking down the street, him to the grocery store for work and her to tutor at the elementary school where she now taught. They talked about the future and college, and when that future arrived, they would call each other on the weekends, seeing each other when they could. Rob even came up for a football game once, but the visits stopped when Will and Jules started dating. He said it didn’t seem right, though she never could tell why. Even after everything that had happened with them, and everything that Rob had said just that afternoon, there was no way that he’d killed Will Baker. How could he have when she was with him?


Jules asked Rob to leave, fearing the appearance of evil. Even the hint of that word, evil, convicted Jules of her complicit role in Will Baker’s death. Perhaps her straying from the path is what caused someone to kill her husband. As absurd as it is, she believed it. All around her, the world fell apart. The news crews filming her house, the police moving in and out the front door, all the neighbors politely avoiding her gaze. Jules Baker stood alone on the lawn, forgetting herself and her past, focused only on the fear at hand.


“Mrs. Walker?” No answer.


“Mrs. Walker?”


“It’s Baker, officer. Mrs. Will Baker.”


“My apologies, ma’am. Could you come with me? We need you to come down to the station to identify your husband’s body conclusively.”


The summer sun cast that dark blue and sky orange that only comes when it is light even late into the evening, as the evening turns to night and the fireflies come out. She followed Officer Rodriguez to the car, and as she glared back once more at the house, she saw them bringing out the covered stretcher. As the Coroner’s people carried him away, the evident truth pained Mrs. Baker. Her husband was gone, and she was obviously to blame. It was all because of her that Will Baker is dead.

Next Friday, Episode 2 featuring Jules Baker. 

If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to leave a comment in the comments section.  It's a little early for theories, but if you must, go right ahead.  I hope y'all enjoy this, and I look forward to releasing episode 2 next week.  Thanks!