“So is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Well, kind of.” She fidgeted with her purse strap. “There was something else. I know that I shouldn’t have done this, and I need to assure you that I never did anything like this with you. I never invaded your personal space.”
“Okay,” I said, wondering why she was giving me a disclaimer.
She pulled out a piece of paper. “Well, what initially got me going was the station wanted me to pull some background info on Nelly for the feature story that they’re doing. So, I started doing some digging. And it was just really strange to me that I couldn’t find any information about her prior to going on X Factor.”
I failed to see where she was going with this. “Well, she was a nobody, a homeless orphan, so maybe that’s why there was nothing out there.”
“That’s what I thought, until I asked her about it. I told her I wanted to get information on her hometown so I could pull up old pictures and get names of people who knew her back then. She went completely ballistic. She told me I’d better say exactly what she told me to say and there was no need for me to go digging for anything. Well, you know that only made me dig more.”
I smiled. “I guess I taught you well.”
She smiled back. “You did, and Nelly’s story doesn’t add up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She claims she was an orphan, but it’s hard to believe she lived on the streets as a child. It seems like she would’ve been in somebody’s system. But there’s nothing. It’s like she didn’t exist.” Yolanda slid a piece of paper to me. She hesitated like she really wasn’t sure about her next move. “I went on her personal computer and I saw an email from someone who claimed to be her father,” Yolanda continued. “It looks like he was trying to strong-arm her for money and threatened to tell her ‘little secret.’ I traced the IP address and it came from a computer at Chattahoochee High School in Chattahoochee, Florida.”
“Wow,” I said, impressed by all of the info that Yolanda had dug up.
“I don’t know anything more. I’m guessing that’s where she went to high school? I don’t know. I’m just saying I smell something funny and I’ve hit a dead end. Honestly, I don’t even know what to do with this info, but I thought about you and thought maybe there’s something you can find out. You’re much better at this than me. If I’m being honest, I’d love nothing more than to expose this woman for the fraud I know she is.”
I took the piece of paper. Fraud? Oh, Yolanda just didn’t know; if there was a chance that Nelly wasn’t on the up-and-up, I wouldn’t stop digging until I found out for sure.
Chapter 39
There was a reason that I had been on top of my game at Rumor Central. I had a sixth sense. My gut told me when something wasn’t right, and from the moment I’d met her, I’d definitely felt something wasn’t right with Nelly Fulton. Yes, she’d basically stolen my job with Rumor Central, but I didn’t blame her completely. She’d had an opportunity and gone for it. I couldn’t help but respect that. But what I couldn’t appreciate was the phony concern. Just take the job and do you. All that calling and trying to play the sympathetic role didn’t set right with me. And then, she had the nerve to try and come for me? Even still, I probably should’ve just walked away, but my instincts wouldn’t let me. Especially after everything that Yolanda had told me. Now, my curiosity was more than piqued.
That’s why I was on this crop-duster plane about to land in Chattahoochee, Florida. My mom would kill me if she knew that I had caught a flight out without telling anyone. Thankfully, neither she nor my father really checked my credit card bill as long as it wasn’t too high. But I had to get to the bottom of this.
I walked through the small security exit. The driver for the car service I’d hired was standing there with a sign with my name on it.
“Hi, I’m Maya Morgan,” I said, approaching him.
“Hello. I’m Rafael White. How was your flight?”
“Fine. Bumpy.” This was a little regional airport, and there couldn’t have been ten people on my flight.
“You don’t have any luggage?” Rafael asked.
“Nah, just here for the day,” I replied. “The company did tell you you’d be with me all day?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m yours all day.” He motioned toward the door. “This way.”
He led me out to his town car. “So where’s the first stop?” he asked once we were both settled in.
“Chattahoochee High School.” I didn’t know how old Nelly was, but her Wikipedia page put her at nineteen, so that would mean someone still around would remember her.
We made it to the high school just as the kids were getting out.
“Okay, wait right here,” I told the driver.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and pushed the store-bought reading glasses I’d bought on the way in up on my face. Today was not a day that I wanted to be recognized, which was the only reason I’d dared step out in public with no makeup on.
“Excuse me,” I said, stopping a man who looked like a janitor picking up trash. “Where’s the front office?”
“Right through those double doors,” he said, pointing to my right. “Follow me. I was just heading in.”
I followed him to the office and thanked him as he began picking up some papers on the floor there.
There was a flurry of activity behind the counter, including a heavyset woman who was sorting files at the counter. She greeted me with a hearty, “Hello.”
“Hi, I’m a reporter for the Miami Herald and we’re doing a story on Nelly Fulton.” I spoke with a high pitch, just in case someone recognized my voice. I was hoping that these old people working the front desk didn’t watch Rumor Central.
“The X Factor winner?” the woman asked, looking confused.
I had come up with the reporter story because I didn’t know any other way to get information. Honestly, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. I just wanted to see what I could dig up. “Yes, ma’am. We’re doing a story on her and I was hoping you could tell me where I could catch up with some of her teachers.”
“I suppose wherever she went to school,” the woman said, looking at me strangely.
“She didn’t go here?” I asked.
“No, she sure didn’t. At least not in the past five years that I’ve been here.”
“But I was told that she went here,” I said, hoping the woman was mistaken.
“Then you were told wrong.” The woman gave me a genuine smile.
“So Nelly Fulton didn’t go here?” I asked. I hoped that I hadn’t come on a wild goose chase. I’d done some research myself. There was a Margaret Fulton listed in Chattahoochee. When I’d called the number and asked for Nelly, the elderly woman had said she wasn’t in, but asked did I want to leave a message. That’s why I’d decided to hop a plane and come see what I could find out.
“No, ma’am. I’m sorry,” the woman said. “Chattahoochee isn’t but so big and I know every student that comes through. And if we had a superstar like Nelly Fulton in our ranks, her picture would be hanging right there.” She pointed to the wall behind me.
“But I talked with a Margaret Fulton and she said Nelly wasn’t home but she’d take a message, so I just assumed . . .”
The woman laughed. “Mrs. Margaret? Honey, she is just as senile as the day is long! You could’ve asked for Barack Obama and she would’ve told you he’d run to the grocery store. But as far as I know, she ain’t no kin to Nelly Fulton.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had just known I’d get some answers here. “Well, I’m sorry to bother you,” I told her, trying not to sound defeated.
I had just made my way back outside when the janitor that I’d talked to earlier approached me.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You a reporter looking for information about Nelly Fulton?”
I nodded. “I thought she went to this school.”
He looke
d at me for a moment, then leaned in and said with a smile, “She didn’t. But Nadra Franklin did.”
“What? Who is Nadra Franklin?”
He looked around nervously. “How much y’all paying for that information?”
“Well, if you have some good information, I’ll make it worth your while.”
He continued fidgeting. “Well, I can’t do this here. Where are you staying? Maybe I can come to your hotel.”
He must’ve thought I was crazy. I didn’t know if he was legit or not, but I wasn’t about to be alone with him to find out. “Maybe there’s a Starbucks around that we can meet at,” I told him.
He laughed. “You’re definitely big city. The nearest Starbucks is about fifty-two miles away. But we can meet at the McDonald’s.”
I cringed at the thought. I hadn’t set foot in a McDonald’s since I was four. But I’d do what I needed to do to get to the truth.
“Okay, fine. Which one?”
“The only one in town. On Main Street. I get off in an hour. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, my friend will bring me.” I just wanted to let this guy know I wouldn’t be alone in case he turned out to be a creep.
But he just said, “Okay, see you then.” Then he scurried off.
“So what do you want to do?” the driver asked when I got back in the car.
I had an hour to kill, so I said, “I’d like to find a library.” I was thinking maybe I could look in the town’s archives and find some old newspaper clippings. I’d Googled Nelly before I’d come, but I’d gotten nothing but a bunch of stuff that came after her X Factor win. Yolanda was right. It was almost as if she hadn’t existed before the show.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in front of an outdated computer, going through old Chattahoochee newspaper clippings. There was no mention of Nelly Fulton anywhere locally, which was strange because the girl had won X Factor. You’d think they would have it plastered all over the place.
She didn’t go here, but Nadra Franklin did.
The janitor’s words popped into my head. That’s when it dawned on me that it wasn’t unusual for people in show business to change their names. Everyone couldn’t have a fabulous showbiz-ready name like Maya Morgan.
I went back to the search box and typed in Nadra Franklin . Nothing came up except a 1995 article about a sixth-grade girl by that name winning the local spelling bee.
I sighed, then noticed the time. It had been almost forty-five minutes, so I logged off and made my way back out to the car. Rafael had dozed off, so I tapped the window. He jumped, then scurried out of the car.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, opening my door.
“It’s okay. We’re going to head to that McDonald’s we passed on the way in.”
I climbed in the backseat and it took us less than five minutes to get to the restaurant. The janitor—I hadn’t even bothered to get his name—was already sitting at a table, drinking a cup of coffee.
“So, you say you’re a reporter,” he asked after I slid into the seat across from him.
I nodded. No sense in speaking a lie any more than I had to.
He took a slow sip of his coffee. “Well, I have some info you may be interested in, but it’s gonna cost you.”
I braced myself for the worst. I didn’t know how much I was willing to pay. But if he came with some ridiculous amount, I was just going to have to cut my losses.
He sat nervously twisting his hands. “It’s some good information.”
“Okay.”
“Some really good information,” he repeated.
“I said okay. How much?”
He took a deep breath, then rushed out the words. “A thousand dollars.”
I almost fell out of my chair. A thousand dollars? That’s all? I had that in my purse. But I knew not to show my hand, so I hesitated, then said, “All right, but this better be good.”
His eyes lit up and he said, “It is. It is.”
I reached in my purse and he got even more excited.
“I’m going to get the money now?” he asked.
“Yep, if I get the info now.”
He all but salivated as I counted out ten one-hundred-dollar bills and slid them across the table.
He snatched the money up and tucked it in the pocket of his hideous plaid shirt. “Get your pen and paper because, boy oh boy, have I got a story for you.”
Chapter 40
As the wheels touched down at Miami International Airport, I was still trying to process everything that I’d just learned.
And, boy, had I learned a lot. The question now was what I was going to do with the information that janitor (he never would give me his name) had given me.
I knew that celebrities lied about their age all the time, but Nelly Fulton had taken things to a whole different level. I couldn’t wait to look her in her face when I called her on it.
I was just making plans in my head on how I was going to confront her at school tomorrow when I got a tweet that said Join Rumor Central host at the Miami Beach Extravaganza tonight at nine.
I rolled my eyes because I was supposed to be headlining that and they’d just moved Nelly right on in.
“Well, there will be no time like the present,” I said, grabbing my purse and making my way out of the plane.
I thought the Miami Beach Extravaganza would be the perfect place to put Nelly Fulton on blast. I checked in with my parents since I’d been gone all day, then I made my way to South Beach, where the event was being held.
I sat toward the back in my shades and a baseball hat that I’d picked up from a vendor. The Miami Beach Extravaganza was a couture swimsuit fashion show, and Nelly was supposed to be the star attraction.
On my way from the airport, I sent out a text to a couple of friends in the media to make sure that they would be there. I wanted everybody to get this.
Finally, about ten minutes after nine, a man walked on to the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said to the now crowded tented area. “I hope you guys are ready! We have a great show for you tonight, and to kick things off and to keep it flowing is the diva, the teen queen, the new host of Rumor Central and X Factor winner . . . Nelly Fulton!”
The crowd started clapping—okay, who am I kidding, they went wild, but I was sure it didn’t have anything to do with her hosting Rumor Central. It was because of the whole X Factor thing. Regardless, I sat there and tried to keep my attitude in check as Nelly walked onto the stage.
“What’s up, Miami?” she said, waving to the crowd. “It’s your girl Nelly Fulton and I am so happy to be here today! Are y’all ready to have a good time?”
The crowd started screaming. It took everything in my power not to play my hand right there and shut this show down, but I wanted to wait until after the show when the media was in full force. I didn’t see the crew from Miami Hot Gossip and I definitely wanted to make sure they were front and center. So I sat and I actually enjoyed the fashion show. Nelly did an okay job, but she didn’t have the personality that I did. And she was phony as all get out. But I let her do her as I sat and waited for the question-and-answer segment. I actually smiled when I looked back over my shoulder and saw all of the media finally there.
And as soon as the host said, “Okay, before we go, what would the Miami Beach Extravaganza be without hearing from you guys? There are two small mics in the center of the room,” he said, pointing to the two mics on the stand. “Come on up if you have a question about the fashions you saw tonight, or if you have a question for our star about her music, her show, or how it feels to be the reigning teen queen. Step right up.”
Several people came up and I slowly made my way up behind them, making sure to keep my head down. I waited as four or five people asked frivolous questions about the fashions.
A couple of people asked about her upcoming album and then it was my turn and I slowly stepped to the mic. I eased my sunglasses off, took my hat off, and shook my hair out.
“Oh my God, it’s
Maya Morgan,” someone next to me whispered.
“Hi, Nelly,” I said. She looked kind of shocked, but then quickly put the smile back on her face.
“Well, if it isn’t the former host of Rumor Central. Everyone give it up for Maya Morgan!” she said and the crowd actually went wild again. Several people clapped and waved in my direction.
I smiled and leaned in to the mic. “Oh, today isn’t about me.”
“Well, we know that,” she said, cutting me off.
Oh, this was gonna be good. I was going to take great pride in what I was about to say.
“Today is all about you making your debut at the Miami Beach Extravaganza,” I continued. “And one of the questions that I have is . . .” I paused as the crowd grew silent. “. . . who is Nadra Franklin?”
The smile completely left Nelly’s face, and if it was possible for her to lose all color, she did. Her reaction was enough to send the media scurrying.
“E-excuse me,” she stammered.
“Nadra Franklin. You know her, right?” I said a little louder.
She glared at me as the crowd stared at her. “Um, I think that’s all of the time we have for questions,” she said, turning to the host, who looked confused as well.
“No,” I said, speaking loudly into the mic. “I think you should tell these people that you’re Nadra Franklin.”
She glared at me some more. And I smiled.
“And? Your point would be?” she asked, trying to play it cool. But I could tell, she was completely shaken. “People change their names all the time.”
“Do people change their ages, too?” I said. I raised my voice as the crowd started chattering. “Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t take away from Nadra—I’m sorry, from Nelly—that she’s a fantastic singer, but she’s also a fraud.” I turned to the crowd and pointed to the stage. “Miami, I present to you teen queen, thirty-one-year-old Nadra Franklin!”
The crowd went crazy. The photographers started flashing their bulbs. Nelly looked at me like she wanted to kill me. And I turned around and walked out of the room.
I could hear her suddenly begin screaming after me. But I walked out with a smile on my face, ignoring the cameras that were pointed at me and the people who were pulling at me, trying to get more answers. My work was done. I’d put the nugget out there. I had no doubt in my mind these people would get to work and take it from there.
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