© 2022 Phylicia Joannis
I sat in Simon Lowe’s office with a mug of rich, hot chocolate in my hands. The room was sparsely decorated. A baseball here, a few award plaques there. Not a single picture of himself. Not at all what I’d expected from a self-preserving narcissist.
Penny sat beside me, hand on my arm like a mother hen guarding her chick. She seemed to know what Simon was like, and though I didn’t know her well, her presence gave me comfort. Simon sipped an iced coffee through a straw. Judging by the way Penny pursed her lips, she didn’t approve of his choice of beverage. After weeks of giving us the runaround, Simon had finally agreed to meet with us.
“What should I do, Simon?” I asked.
He rubbed his chin and leaned forward with a grimace. “Let’s say I believe you. Donna Ellison is a very powerful woman. There’s no way to corroborate your story, and according to the doctors, your tox screen came up empty.”
“She poisoned me, then dumped me in an alley.” I glared at Simon. How could he not believe me?
“My brother has a picture of the license plate,” Penny added. “If you can trace it back to her?”
“Still won’t be enough.” Simon shook his head. “I doubt she does all her dirty work herself. If anything, it will just be pinned on her driver, and Donna will walk clean. We need something else. Are you sure that’s all you remember?”
I considered telling Simon what my mother told me, but something made me hold back. I shook my head no, and Simon sighed and threw up his hands.
“Simon, you’ve got to do something.” Penny’s words were pleading. It was strange, hearing a near stranger ask a favor for my sake. “Miracle’s mother thinks she’s dead. We can use that, can’t we?”
“Well, a woman willing to kill her own daughter is bound to have other skeletons in her closet.” Simon chuckled and leaned in towards Penny. “I can help you, but you’ll need to do something in return.”
“What?” Penny raised an eyebrow and Simon laughed.
“You know what I want.”
They shared an exchange of glances that was lost on me. Penny squeezed my arm, looked at me and sighed. “Fine, Simon. I’ll give you a second chance. After you help Miracle.”
Simon nodded and slurped his coffee. “I want it in writing. I’ve got a contract ready right here. You’re welcome to add any concessions you like.” Penny stared at the contract, bemused. Simon seemed pleased by her reaction. “I knew you’d come back to me eventually.”
Penny signed the contract after adding a long list of concessions, then passed it to Simon.
“So you’re going to help me?” I asked.
Simon nodded absently as he read through Penny’s remarks. “Yes, yes, I’ll help you. By the way?” He put the paper down and looked at me with a halfcocked grin. “How good are you at snooping?”
***
I leaned over Penny’s shoulder later that day as she sifted through scans of old news articles on the library’s ancient computer.
“I didn’t even know this part of the library existed.”
“Not too many archive libraries around, but this one has every article ever printed in our city from every major newspaper dating back to the 1970s. Here it is.” Penny landed on one of the articles. “Congressman Avery walked back his comments about his alleged mistress Donna Granger when she produced two checks of substantial amounts written from his bank account. Granger claims that the checks were meant as a payoff for her silence as well as to cover the costs to terminate her pregnancy. Hm.”
I stared at the screen. It was a split picture with Chase Avery’s photo on one side and Donna Granger on the other. She was much younger, but there was no mistaking her.
“Wow. She looks just like . . .” Penny didn’t finish her sentence, so I finished it for her.
“Me. She looks just like me.” Penny’s phone buzzed, and she cleared her throat. Her eyes widened in shock and she tugged on my arm.
“Miracle, my brother just sent me this video.” I leaned in close and a lump formed in my throat. Penny watched the video play, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from the headline written across the top:
MAYOR MITCHELL BLUME CONFIRMED DEAD
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