***So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired and left to take care of her ex-lover's child.   She has threatened a man, found his dead body, been shot at, and has formed an unlikely friendship with the sheriff and her spiritual, stoner neighbor.  Now, she has to talk to a reporter about her encounter with the dead man, Ed Preston. ***

 

 

 

 

 

I ran out to grab some muffins before Colleen Weaver was set to arrive. 

 

I'm not known for my hostessing abilities.  The handful of times my ex-in-laws came over, I could feel Elaine's eyes lighting on every surface.  She sat on the edge of the sofa with her purse in her lap.  It was like she was ready to spring up and out of the door if the opportunity presented itself.  She inspected the glass of tea I handed her like she was in an episode of CSI: Patterson County.

 

"It's a clean glass, Elaine."

 

She nodded, forcing that acidic smile she has.

 

But, today, I will show little Miss Colleen Weaver that I am a polite and genuine member of society.  No matter how much it kills me.

 

I fluff the pillows, toss the teal colored throw over the arm of the couch and straighten Waylon's nook.  Then I bring out the big guns, a Bath and Body works candle that my momma gave me for my birthday, and a copy of this week's Gazette.   I open it up, bending  a few pages, trying to make it look read.  If this doesn't give off the aura of an intellectual, I give up.

 

The coffee is just finishing brewing when she pulls up to the trailer.  She snaps a few pics with her phone.

 

I'm not gonna wait for her to knock.  All this pretending is making me anxious.  

 

"Hey, I see you found it," I say, opening the door wide enough for her to come inside.

 

"Yes, it's a nice drive out here.  How long have you lived here?"

 

"A little over twelve years."

 

She looks around.  Her eyes land on the stupid Mustang picture behind the couch. 

 

"Don't ask," I say.

 

"So, where do you want to sit?"

 

I wave my hand toward the table.  "I made coffee and bought some muffins."

 

Colleen smiles and pulls out her chair.  "Thank God, you didn't tell me you made these.  People are always trying to pretend to be something they aren't.   I write feature articles.  I want real people.  I want to see you, warts and all."

 

My eyes flicker to the Gazette on the coffee table.  "Yeah, I hate that, too."

 

"I have a list of questions I can ask or you can just tell me about the day you had your run in with Ed Preston," she says, pulling a notebook out of her bag.

 

I walk over to the cabinet and pull down two coffee mugs.  One is a promotional mug from one of the food vendors in town and the other is a mug I bought from the Dollar General a while back.  I dont have anything that matches.  Pouring the coffee into the cups, I wonder if she'll want creamer.  I hope not, 'cause I don't have any.

 

"Reporters drink black coffee, right?"

 

"Sure," she says as I set the steaming cup in front of her. 

 

"First off, Ed Preston had been in our store several times.  He was a pervert.  Always touching himself inappropriately.  Rita, the other cashier, she isn't confrontational."

 

"But you are?"

 

"I don't run from it, if that's what you're asking.  I never have.  Running from anything doesn't resolve a damn thing."

 

"So, Ed was in there, and he was doing these inappropriate things?"

 

I nod.  "Yes.  He most definitely was.  I happened to have some scissors in my hand and I implied that I might use them on him."

 

"What did he say?"

 

Shrugging, I look into the vapors rising from my full cup.  " I really don't remember but he was pissed.  I think I might have mentioned Lorena Bobbit.  Yes, I definitely referred to her."

 

"Did you assault him?"

 

"I kinda poked him."

 

"With the scissors you just happened to have."

 

"Look, it sounds worse than it was.  I wasn't going to actually hurt him.  He was just so gross.  He got off doing deviant things in front of innocent people.  I'm not going to apologize for stepping in and confronting him.  But I didn't hurt him.  Okay, maybe the initial poke hurt but I didn't kill him."

 

"I have a couple of more questions.  Is that okay?"

 

"Sure, why not."

 

"What makes you suspect foul play in Jason Toblerone's disappearance? "

 

"Missy says he was abusive.  But he used to come fill up his truck at my station.  He was always sporting a busted lip or a bruised cheek."

 

"You think she's lying?"

 

"I know Missy.  She is a born liar."

 

"She said you were trying to discredit her reputation because you're jealous of her success in life."

 

"Of course she did."

 

"I'm going to be honest with you.  She does seem a bit unhinged, but that doesn't make her a murderer.  But, if you truly believe she had something to do with his disappearance, I'll start digging.  If this is a vendetta because she beat you out of homecoming queen, don't waste my time."

 

"It was homecoming princess and that happened a long, long time ago.  It just opened my eyes to the kind of person she is."

 

Colleen finishes her coffee and closes her notebook.  "If I have anymore questions, can I call you?"

 

"Sure."

 

She goes to the door and I stop her. 

 

"Colleen, what made you say she seemed unhinged?"

 

Colleen doesn't answer right away, maybe trying to decide if she should divulge it to me.

 

"She was obsessed with talking about one thing."

 

"What was that?"

 

"You."

 

My knees went weak.  Colleen smiles sympathetically.  "To her, you seem larger than life.  She wants to bring you to your knees.  I couldn't use anything she told me.  I'm just going on my gut reaction, but you need to be very careful with that one."

 

I wait until she's backing out of the drive to pick up the phone.   It rings twice before she answers.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hey, Momma.  Can I come over?"

 

Sometimes you just need your mom.  And right now is one of those times.

 

 

 

To be continued ...