“Have there been any developments in the case?”
Trudie shook her head. “It’s probably a cold case now, since it happened three years ago. I even hired a private investigator to find the killer, but they weren’t successful. Nevertheless, I know in my heart that her killer will be caught someday, and I live for the day when they do.”
“Are you still being stalked?”
“No, thank goodness. Haven’t heard a word from them since Leigh was killed.”
Annie darted her eyes as if searching for something. That’s odd. They got rid of what was in their way, yet they didn’t go after Trudie. Why?
“Rumor has it that you’re a recluse now, because of—”
Noella interrupted “Let’s stop there and have the girl touch up her makeup.”
Tears running down Trudie’s face had left streaks on her cheeks. The makeup artist rushed over and began reapplying her makeup.
“Can I speak with you a minute?” Noella asked the producer, nodding toward the back room.
“Sure,” she said, sweeping her hand across her throat for the sound man to kill her microphone.
Annie watched them walk away and took the opportunity to talk with Trudie. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you for asking,” Trudie replied. “I apologize. I wasn’t expecting to talk about this today. It just sort of came out.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through, but I offer my condolences, and my support, for what that’s worth.”
“It’s worth more than you know, thank you,” Trudie responded, looking up into Annie’s glistening eyes.
“Okay, reset the clapper and let’s keep going,” the producer said as she and Noella walked back into the room.
Annie lingered for only a moment, but it was long enough to bolster Trudie’s resolve. She composed herself and put a smile on her face.
Trudie’s cat walked in, jumped on the couch and made herself comfortable in Trudie’s lap. Noella started to pick her up, but Trudie waved her off.
“No, please. Let her stay so I can have something to do with my hands.”
Noella looked at the director, who nodded his consent. But when Bruno started purring, the sound man had to adjust the placement of the microphone. Luckily, Trudie was wearing a dark suit that almost hid the mic, so it wouldn’t be too much of a distraction.
“What about Lucy?” Trudie asked.
The director looked at Noella, who explained, “Lucy is her dog.”
“Oh, sure. That would be perfect,” he said. “Bring her in.”
“She’s in her room.” Trudie looked toward the kitchen. “Annie, would you mind getting her for me?”
“No problem,” Annie agreed and walked to the back. “Here, doggie-doggie.”
The room with the cat door and window caught her eye right off, and Annie opened the door. Lucy came barreling out of her room, ready to play.
The dog looked around at all the strangers. “Lucy, come here, girl,” Trudie called. Lucy walked over and sat down in front of Trudie, placing her paw on Trudie’s knee. “Good girl.”
“Uh, she’s blocking the camera,” the cameraman complained.
The director shook his head. “Wow. I didn’t think it would be that big. Can you get her to lay down at your feet?” He looked at the cameraman. “We can do a wide angle shot to begin with to fit the dog in.”
The cameraman nodded.
“Lucy, lay down. Lay down, girl.” Lucy did as Trudie asked and laid down across her feet. Even though she knew her feet would soon go numb under the dog’s weight, Trudie felt comforted having her pets, her family, with her.
The producer sat back down, and Noella reclaimed her spot behind the director.
“Trudie Youngblood, take three.” The girl slapped the clapper down on the electronic slate.
“Trudie, there’s a rumor going around that this will be your last book, is the rumor true?” the producer asked.
Trudie shook her head. “Oh, that’s no rumor. This will be the last book in the series.”
“So you’re saying that there will be other books, perhaps other series after this one?”
“You know the old saying, never say never. I’ll probably keep writing, just to keep my mind active, but I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame. My dad always said I could achieve whatever I put my mind to, and so I have. Time to move on.”
After a moment, the director barked, “And cut. Good job, everyone. Trudie, if you can bear with us a few minutes more, we’re going to move the camera and take some reverse angles over your shoulder.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Trudie remained sitting, petting her cat, while the cameraman unhooked his camera and picked up his tripod. The stylist came over and touched up Trudie’s makeup, as the sound man and the director moved furniture around so that the background would be clear of clutter. The lighting tech was concerned about his lights reflecting against the windows, so he moved the lights several times until he solved the problem.
Annie stayed in the kitchen, taking it all in. She was in awe of how fast and precise the film crew was, but when her dark brown eyes fell on Trudie, her admiration for the brave woman almost overwhelmed her. My God, what she must have gone through.
Lucy got up and wandered into the kitchen. Trudie was going to call her back after she rubbed the circulation back into her feet, but the director told her that it was okay, the dog wouldn’t be in the shot anyway.
“Should I put her back in her room?” Annie asked, scratching Lucy’s head.
“No, she’s fine in there with you. Thanks,” Trudie replied, wishing she could be in there, too.
Noella followed Trudie’s lingering gaze. “We’re almost done here, Annie. Didn’t you say you had a toilet to fix or something?”
Trudie spoke up. “Oh, yeah. I had forgotten that I sent in a maintenance request. My ceiling fan is making a terrible racket. I tried to fix it myself, but wasn’t sure what I was doing.”
“Sure, I’ll take a look at it. Would you prefer me to wait until you’re done?”
“No need. I trust you,” Trudie said, and then grinned. “Besides, Lucy will frisk you on your way out.”
Annie laughed. “Let’s hope not. I barely survived the first one.”
Noella shook her head. “Do you want me to go with her?”
“No, I was just kidding, hon. Come on, let’s get this filming over with.”
“We’re ready when you are, Ms. Youngblood,” the director announced.
“Great. I’m ready.”
“Trudie,” Noella bent over and quietly said, “I asked the producer not to divulge your address or use exterior shots that would lead the crazy fans to your doorstep.”
“Thank you for always looking out for me, Noella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I hope you never have to find out,” Noella said jovially.
As the director explained where Trudie should look so that her face would show on the camera, Annie walked back to the bedrooms.
The first door she opened was the master bedroom she was looking for. “Wow.”
In stark contrast to the rest of the décor, the bedroom, designed in a country motif, was warm and relaxing with its earth-toned hardwood floor, and dark cherry dresser. The throw rug had a rose-rust colored frame that accentuated the comforter. The four-poster queen-sized bed had an intricate, scrolling wrought-iron crown headboard, and matching footboard. The ceiling fan, a little off center above the foot of the bed, was made of dark cherry wood, and its blades were wide and angled.
But it was the bed that Annie’s eyes came back to. Her face flushed red when she realized she was envisioning Trudie gripping the bars of the headboard, screaming in ecstasy. Oh, my God! She was just crying over her dead wife, and I’m in here lusting after her bed. What is wrong with me?
As if to further confuse her, Annie saw a framed photo sitting on the bedside table of Trudie and anot
her woman, both in wedding gowns. She walked over and picked it up. Trudie’s face was glowing, her head tilted back, laughing. They looked so happy. They thought they had the rest of their lives to grow old together.
“That was taken on her wedding day,” Noella said from the doorway.
Shit! “Oh, uh, I’m sorry,” Annie muttered. “I wasn’t snooping.” She quickly sat the picture down and stepped back.
“That’s hard to believe considering the fan is on the ceiling, not on her nightstand.”
“Look, I saw the picture and wanted to see what Leigh looked like, that’s all. After that interview, I was naturally curious.”
“Now you understand why I’m so protective of her. She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.”
I think she’s much stronger than you give her credit for. “Is it true? Is she a recluse?”
“I guess you’ll find out anyway, since you’re the maintenance man now, but yes, she is. She hasn’t left this apartment since the day she moved in, which was the day after Leigh was killed.”
Annie’s mouth fell open. “I can’t imagine living like that.”
“That’s why it’s imperative that you don’t upset her delicate balance. She’s happy here, where she’s safe.”
Happy here? Annie looked at Noella questioningly. How could anyone be happy cloistered away in a prison with windows?
Noella saw the concern in Annie’s face, and she didn’t like it. It was Noella who held Trudie up when she couldn’t do it herself. It was Noella who coaxed her through the last book, to help her complete her contract. It was Noella who loved Trudie.
“Just fix the damn fan and leave. If Trudie has any other maintenance orders, I’ll take care of them.” Noella turned sharply and marched out the door.
Well, shit. Annie knew better than to argue with her. It would only cause her trouble in the long run and she desperately needed this job. There was nothing she could do but forget the captivating author whose smile took her breath away. The simple touch of Trudie’s hand had caused her heart to skip a beat. A sensation Annie really wanted to feel again and again. She shook her head. No. It’s not meant to be. Leave her alone while you still can. But saying it and doing it were two different things when it came to her natural instinct of wanting to protect Trudie.
Annie flipped the light switch and pulled on the chain to the fan so she could see what the problem was. The motor rattled, as if something had come loose inside, but it still turned the blades. She flipped the switch off and pulled a chair over to stand on. Taking off her boots she stood on the chair and carefully poked her head between the blades. Pulling out her screwdriver, she was just about to unscrew the base, when Trudie walked in.
“Here, let me turn the light on so you can see better.”
“No, wait!” Too late, the fan began oscillating, and the blades hit Annie across her forehead. She grabbed her head and fell forward onto the bed.
“Oh, my God!” Trudie ran to the bed and put her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
Annie sat up, rubbing her head. “No, just a little dazed.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have checked with you first,” Trudie explained.
“No need to apologize, you were trying to help. I appreciate that.”
“Where did the fan hit you?” Trudie asked.
God, you’re so beautiful that I can’t breathe. “Oh, uh, mostly here on the forehead,” Annie replied, moving her hand away so that Trudie could see it. Trudie climbed up on the bed and sat beside Annie so that she could get a better look. She was so close that Annie inhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath.
Trudie softly skimmed her fingertips across Annie’s forehead, and unbeknownst to her, left an inferno in their wake. She breathed in Annie’s cologne, a subtle, woodsy aroma with just a hint of spice.
Annie gazed longingly at her lips, so close, so inviting, and felt her breath waft across her face in a warm caress. Please don’t move. Please don’t move.
“Trudie, they need you in—” Noella stopped abruptly in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?” Noella could only see Trudie’s back and Annie’s legs, but she was sure that Annie was molesting her.
Trudie jerked around, feeling like she was caught doing something wrong.
“Oh, shit. I’m in your bed,” Annie said. Wow, I’m in her bed!
“Annie is hurt,” Trudie said, mad at herself for being such a coward. “I turned on the light not knowing the fan was on, and it struck her in the head.”
Annie jumped off the bed and finger combed her hair. Damn it! All I wanted was a last moment with her. “I’m fine now, thanks.”
Noella looked up at the still oscillating fan and flipped the switch off. “The producer needs to speak with you a minute, Trudie.”
“Okay, sure,” Trudie said, taking another glance at Annie before she left.
A chilly silence filled the room. Annie decided it might be best to come back later and fix the fan, so she started toward the door, but Noella blocked her exit.
She looked down the hallway and then turned back to Annie. “If I ever catch you in here again, I’ll not only have your job, but have you arrested, too.”
Is she crazy? I was only doing my job.
“In fact, I’d just as soon never see you again. Now get out!”
Noella stepped to the side, but Annie was angry now, and had a few things to say.
“Of course you caught me in here, I had a work order for the fan. I was doing my job, nothing more… you know what, never mind. No job is worth putting up with your bullshit. Get me fired if you can, I’m not going to leave until the job is finished.” She hiked up her tool belt and walked back to the chair.
Noella opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind and walked away. Obviously, stronger motivation would be needed to get through to that arrogant Amazon.
After she had fixed the fan and put the chair back, Annie had intended to leave without saying anything to anyone, but Trudie caught her at the door.
“Hey, are you finished?”
Annie turned around, careful not to make eye contact so she wouldn’t lose herself in those beautiful violet eyes. “Yes. The fan works fine now. A screw had come loose and fell into the base. That’s what was causing the noise.”
“Do you have to leave now?” Trudie held her breath. Please don’t leave.
Annie could feel Noella’s eyes burning a hole through her head. “Yeah, as they say, my work here is done. I’ve neglected the other tenants, and I don’t think my boss would appreciate it.”
“Oh. Of course,” Trudie said disappointedly.
Annie was as reluctant to go as Trudie was to let her go, but her work was finished and she had no reason to stay.
“I had a great time though. It was fascinating to watch the interview. Do you know when it will be broadcast?”
Trudie shook her head. “I didn’t think to ask because I hadn’t planned to watch it. I hate seeing myself on TV.”
“A beautiful woman like you? Uh, I mean, the camera loves you, I’m sure.”
Trudie’s eyes glistened at the compliment. It had been years since a woman had complimented her and meant it. Noella was always telling her that she looked nice, but then that was her job, so it wasn’t the same thing.
“But I don’t love it. That’s one part of this job I won’t miss.”
“Gee, I think I will,” Annie said, and walked out the door.
Trudie started to follow after her, but as soon as her foot stepped over the threshold, she began to panic. She retreated back inside.
Chapter Three
Annie walked into her apartment and flipped the lights on. She threw her keys and mail on the kitchen cabinet, then carried her shopping bag over to the coffee table and set it down with a thud. She pulled five thick books out of the bag and stacked them up according to published date. Turning the first one over, she marveled at Trudie’s picture and read her short biography. She carried the book with her as
she walked back into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, she pulled out a bottle of beer. Popping the lid off the bottle, she walked the few steps back into the living room.
She set the book back on the stack and fell back onto the couch, propping her boots up on the coffee table. “I didn’t do anything wrong, damn it,” she muttered to herself.
On the job for less than a month, and she had already pissed someone off. The thing that baffled her was she hadn’t a clue how she did it. It certainly wasn’t intentional.
She had stopped by the service manager’s office, but he wasn’t there. She was hoping to unload on him before Noella could. She would look for him first thing in the morning and ask to be assigned to the lower floors where she wouldn’t have to run into that overbearing publicist.
She knew that Noella was concerned for Trudie, but so was she. Noella had it all wrong. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Trudie any more distress. Trudie, who was so beautiful, so personable, so easy to like.
Annie put her beer on the table and opened her laptop. She did a search for Trudie and found her books for sale, her official Twitter, Facebook, and other social media accounts, and finally, her website. Annie studied them all. She was surprised to find a photo of Trudie from this morning’s interview on her Twitter page. In the picture, Trudie was crying, a tissue in her hand. The caption read, Emotional day on the set filming a new interview airing this Friday on #NBC #BreakingintoPrison. Annie realized that it must have been Noella who took the picture and put it on Twitter. That was her job, after all.
Annie right clicked on the photo and saved it to her desktop. She wasn’t sure why. A keepsake perhaps. Continuing her search, she found an old news report on YouTube of Leigh’s murder. She clicked on the play button and took a sip from her beer.
“Tragedy struck in the city of Little Rock today, when Leigh Warren, partner of bestselling author, Trudie Youngblood, was killed as she walked out of the Capital Hotel. The two women had just come from a book signing for Ms. Youngblood’s fourth book, Choice of Rainbows, when the assailant knocked Ms. Youngblood to the ground and stabbed Ms. Warren several times. She was rushed to the hospital and pronounced dead on arrival. Ms. Warren was a Tech Sergeant in the Air Force Reserves. The police are looking for a motive and have not ruled out a hate crime.”
Breaking into Prison Page 3