Prologue
He stepped out
onto the ledge, his knuckles clenched tight on the smooth metal railing behind
him. He took one last look—first to his right, then his left, then far down
below, making certain he was all alone and no one near. The warm evening breeze
whipped his hair in a wild dance across his damp forehead, urging him ever
closer to his destination.
Just one step
more.
Peter Lanham
closed his eyes, drinking in the strange exhilaration of the moment. In his
mind, he focused on the dive before him. He pictured the high perch on the majestic
cliffs of Acapulco jutting out over the narrow finger of the brilliant blue
Pacific. How many times had he sipped tropical drinks from the terrace of the
Mirador Hotel, watching the brave La Quebradas make their fearless dives into
the crashing waves below?
Now it was his
turn. He took a deep breath, ragged at first, then another. And then, at last,
a long, slow calming breath . . .
I can do
this.
With that, he
straightened his back, opened his eyes, and sprung off the edge, executing a
flawless swan dive.
The rush of the
wind sailing past him brought tears to his eyes. He blinked, finally clearing
his vision just as the scene below came into focus.
No blue Pacific
waters waited to catch him.
No wild applause
from hotel spectators.
No pounding surf
to mask the roar of his scream.
Only the harsh,
gray pavement at the base of the water tower.
Chapter 1
Julie stared at
her image in the bathroom mirror. She blinked, hoping the scary blonde looking
back at her would morph into one of those airbrushed stars on the cover of
People
magazine. No such luck. She arched her brows, thinking the gesture would
lift the bags that sagged beneath her eyes. Again, no such luck.
“The cast party
didn’t end until 2:00 this morning. What did you expect after four hours of sleep—Reese
Witherspoon?”
A lazy yawn
unfurled her arms in a long stretch toward the ceiling. “Back to the real
world, girlfriend,” she told the sad reflection. Moments later, the shower’s
soothing stream of warm water awoke her senses and welcomed the heavenly
lavender scent of her shampoo and body wash. With a final blast of cold water
snapping her wide awake, she watched the remnants of her fatigue flow down the
drain with the last of the fragrant suds.
“Coffee’s ready,
Jules.”
Wrapping the
pink cotton robe around her damp body, she answered. “Be right there, Gev. Pour
me a cup, will you? Did the paper come yet?”
“On the table as
we speak.”
Julie dashed a
brush through her wet hair then threw open the bathroom door. “So? What did it
say? Is it good? No—don’t tell me.”
As she padded
into the kitchen, her brother peeked over the sports page, his spiky brown hair
still glistening from an early morning shower.
“Say about
what?” he asked.
Julie adored her
older brother. She loved his free spirit and wonky sense of humor, and knew him
to be the only guy she’d ever known who was completely comfortable in his own
skin. With Gevin Parker, it was take it or leave it. A couple of years ago when
she graduated from community college, he’d invited her to share the spacious
loft apartment above his photography studio. The decision was a no-brainer.
Julie pinched
his shoulder as she dashed around him to her place at the table. “You
know
what. The review for the play. Did you read it?” She licked her forefinger and
flipped through the pages of the local paper.
“Oh, that.”
She squashed his
paper to make eye contact. “
Oh that?
Gevin, you know how important this
is to me.”
“Calm down, sis.
I was just teasing.” He popped the paper back to its original form. “I’m your
biggest fan, remember?”
Julie’s her
heart pounded against her chest.
This isn’t just any day. This isn’t just
any review. Today is different. Today holds all my tomorrow’s in the
balance . . .
“Where is it?
Where are the pictures and the review?”
The Braxton
Community Theater’s weekend performance of
The Sound of Music
had been a
huge success, attracting record audiences from the greater Nashville area. The
right review could be the threshold to finally,
finally
opening doors
for her career as an actor. In her heart of hearts, she knew her dreams were
about to come true, which was why the review was important. No—vital!
“Here it is,
here it is! Okay, okay,” she muttered, scanning the piece, looking for any
mention of her name. Near the bottom of the page, next-to-last paragraph, she
found it. Her eyes raced through the lines as she read.
Julie Parker’s portrayal of Liesl von Trapp might best be described as
Liesl von Flat. While the lovely Miss Parker— always a crowd pleaser with the
locals—certainly looked the part of the attractive young teenage daughter, her
rendition of ‘Sixteen Going on Seventeen’ was simply disappointing. Perhaps she
should invest in more singing and dancing lessons instead of wasting her time
strolling the fruit and vegetable aisles in all those Lanham’s commercials.
Tears burned her
eyes. She dropped the paper onto the table. “Dennis,
how could you
?!”
Gevin set down
his coffee mug. “Uh oh. Dennis wrote that?”
“How could he do
this to me?” She stood up, shoving the chair back against the hardwood floor as
Gevin reached for the review. “Just because I wouldn’t marry him is no reason
to crucify my career.” She paced the floor then planted herself facing him.
“That was five years ago! Gevin, how could he be so cruel? How could he
do
this to me?!”
“Sis, calm down.
Nobody cares what he writes. Just calm down.” He took another sip of coffee,
still reading the review.
Julie fell back
in her chair. “But I was counting on this review. This was my best performance
ever. Don’t you get it? I needed a stellar review! If I’m ever going to
audition in New York, I need a portfolio bursting at the seams with good
reviews.”
She rested her
head face-first on the table. “Why did it have to be Dennis? Why?” She bounced
her forehead gently against the table.
“Good thing that
placemat’s padded or you’d have quite a goose egg on that pretty head of
yours.”
She sat up with
an exaggerated sigh of anguish, slumping her shoulders.
Gevin reached
for a dishtowel and tossed it at her. “C’mon, Jules. You know nobody listens to
Dennis. He’s not even a legitimate critic. I mean, c’mon—the guy works at Joe’s
Lube Shop.” He tilted his chair back, his thumb and forefinger hooked on the
table’s edge. “He only writes these pieces when his mom’s out of town and can’t
do it. He’s got no theatrical credentials—unless you count working backstage in
all those high school plays. I’m telling you, nobody takes him seriously.
You’re getting yourself all worked up for nothing.”
Julie wiped her
tears and took a deep breath. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Besides,
everybody in Braxton knows Dennis still has a thing for me, even though he’s
married now. Most folks will see this for what it is, right? It’s not
professional—it’s personal. Right?”
“Right. Don’t
give it a second thought.”
She took another
breath and blew it out, reaching for her coffee. Before she took a sip, she
slammed the mug back on the table. “But Gevin, how will I
ever
get a
break if my reviews are written by a jilted boyfriend from high school?”
Gevin stood then
carried his empty dishes to the sink. “Look, sis. Forget about it. Forget
Dennis. He’s a loser. But it’s like I keep telling you, you’ve got to get out
of this town. Braxton’s too small. It’s great having you live here and all, but
if you’re ever going to get a break, you’ve got to go where the action is. Hey,
wait—don’t you have an audition in Nashville next week?”
“Yes,” she
whimpered, wiping her nose against the sleeve of her robe. “For
Romeo and
Juliet
with the Nashville Theater Company.
“Well, there you
go! There’s your ticket, Jules. You knock ’em dead at that audition, get the
part, then watch and see—you’ll get a killer review from a legitimate critic,
and all this will be forgotten. Mark my words.” He gave her a hug and planted a
kiss on the top of her head.
“You really
think so?”
“Of course, I
do. You’re a brilliant actor, sis. I may be prejudiced, but I know talent when
I see it. You’ll get your break.” He tugged at a wet tendril of her hair then
headed down the hall to his room.
Romeo and
Juliet . . .
She already knew the lines. She’d played Juliet
years ago in high school. Everyone had said she was born for the part, what
with her name being Julie and all. Maybe they were right. Maybe this was her
divine appointment. She would practice every waking moment for the next week.
She could do it! She would dazzle them, win the part of Juliet, and—
Startled by the
familiar ring of her cell phone, she sprinted to her room to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Julie! Where
are you? You have to get here.
Now!
”
“Georgia, what’s
wrong? Are you crying?” Even holding the phone away from her ear, she could
still hear her coworker’s blubbering sobs. “Georgia, get a hold of yourself!
Just calm down and tell me what’s wrong.” She envisioned Georgia’s ample bosom
no doubt smashed against her desk as she grabbed tissues and sobbed into the
headset.
“Oh Julie! It’s
just so horrible!”
“What? What are
you talking about?”
A burst of
phlegmy coughs spilled through the airwaves as Georgia Schwimmer tried to
regain her composure. “Julie, the police are here,” she continued in an urgent
whisper. “You have to come now. They want everyone here. NOW.”
“The police?”
“Just hurry!”
Georgia croaked then broke the connection.
Julie tossed the
phone on her bed and rushed into her closet. For all she knew, Georgia probably
blew up her Ding Dongs in the microwave again and called 911.
“And they call
me
the drama queen . . .”
You can download the remainder of
The
Demise – A Mystery
for by clicking
HERE
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(click the title below for more
information)
From Author Diane Moody
Confessions of a Prayer Slacker
The
Teacup Novellas (Book Three)
The
Teacup Novellas (Book Four)
The
Teacup Novellas (Book Five)
The Teacup Novellas – The Collection
From Author McMillian Moody
(The
first three novels s in one volume)
The Elmo Jenkins Red Boxed Set
All
four novelettes in one volume