RAPE-Serialized version

 

Hi Everyone:

I am pleased to publish chapter 14 of my novel, RAPE. After reading the chapter, I hope you will comment. As you know, your comments and suggestions influence my revision. Check the archives for previous chapters.

       I also encourage you to visit my website:  joshswritingroom.com/ where you can always find, a short story. Also check out my e-published novels. If you find one to your liking, you can purchase it from Amazon.com, or from Barnes and Noble. You’ll find links on the website taking you right to it.

PATH TO A PARDON,

THE EINDHOVEN STRATEGY,

& PALM BEACH STYLE.

 

As I publish each new chapter, the previous chapter(s) should be archived, so you can easily catch up. For those who prefer, here is an encapsulated version of the previous action:

 

PREVIOUSLY: RAPE

Prosperous executive, Gary Sanders, has an appointment at the home of Julia Walsh, the reigning Empress of Palm Beach. Julia’s niece, Oscar winning actress, Miriam West, is visiting and has jewelry to insure.

Miriam accuses Gary of assault and rape. Chief Moore shows Gary a close-up of her facial cuts and bruises. They await the lab report.

Gary’s wife, Carol is furious. Due to a Gary’s past, Carol believes him guilty. She moves him into the guest room.

Attorney, Joe Flaherty advises him not to hide, flee or talk. Reporters who publish stories favoring the actress surround Gary’s home and office. His children are harassed at school and Gary loses his clients and his major companies. Neighbors and friends shun Gary and his family.

Prior to Gary’s arraignment, lawyer Flaherty sends P.I., Jim Bosley to investigate, and then visits Carol. When he arrives, he finds her parents have arrived and plan to take her and the children back to Boston. He tries to persuade her to stay.

 A January court date is set. After posting $50,000 bail, Gary returns home, & Carol tells him that she and the children are going to Boston to live with her parents.

After cleaning up his office, Gary stops at a Palm Beach Pub. As he walks to his car, a Miriam West fan assaults him.

A neighborhood committee offers up to $15,000 to help Gary sell his home if his family leaves Palm Beach within 60 days.

P.I. Bosley interviews the maids at the Walsh mansion and learns that Consuela was fired the previous week. He concludes that reporter; Miguel Gonzales is already looking for her.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 14

 

 

 

 

Miguel Gonzales sat in his editors office re-reading his notes, not that he needed to, he’d already read them twice while waiting for Vincent Bernardino to return from his meeting with whomever he’d gone to see on the reporter’s behalf. He had briefed Vincent on his interviews at the Walsh mansion. He had meticulously laid out his discovery that Consuela Arista, the woman charged with cleaning Miriam West’s suite on December fifth, had been discharged.

While he had no proof she had been inside the suite when Gary Sanders called on its occupant it represented a loose end that he felt he ought to check out. He tried calling, but she had an unlisted number and his Google search hadn’t proved successful. Vincent had asked when the maid had been discharged. When he replied: on the same day, the editor’s eyebrow shot up and he gave the reporter a sage nod before stating that he wanted to hear her story.

Bernardino re-appeared holding a piece of paper in his right hand. “Okay, Miguel, here’s the maid’s address,” he said handing the slip to him. “I checked with Wagner in Circulation; Consuela Arista isn’t one of our subscribers, but he contacted a friend over at the Post, turns out she’s one of theirs. Well, don’t just sit there; get going! Find out what she knows!”

Miguel propelled his compact frame out of the chair, stopped at his desk long enough to pick up his pocket-sized recorder and load it with a new tape; slipping the device into his shirt pocket, he headed for the parking lot.

Driving south on U.S. Highway One, he reached Lake Worth and turned west on 10^th Avenue. At Kirk Road, he turned south and began looking for 922. Only one thing distinguished it from the single story houses on either side, its faded yellow color.

        Miguel parked his Toyota in the driveway separating the house from its white twin and went to the front door. He rang the bell and when that didn’t work, knocked several times, to no avail. He stood on his toes and peered through the small window at the top of the door without catching any movement, and then decided to try one of Consuela’s neighbors.

At the next house, he rang the bell. The door opened. At first, he didn’t see anyone. He heard her say, “Yes?”

He looked down into an old face with still young dark eyes. At five foot nine inches, Miguel didn’t consider himself a giant but this woman had to be under five-feet. The apron she wore wrapped clear around her slender body and touched the tops of her shoes.

“I’m looking for your neighbor Consuela Arista, but she doesn’t seem to be at home. That is her house isn’t it?” He pointed toward the yellow house.

“Yes and who are you?”

“I’m Miguel Gonzales with the Palm Beach Dispatch.” He reached for the button on the device in his pocket. “Mrs . . . .?”

“Lopez,” she said, filling in the last name for him as she stepped aside and waved him into her tiny living room, “I read your stories about what happen to beautiful lady actress. Is that why you want to see Consuela?”

“Yes. She worked at the house when the attack occurred and I thought she might be able to help me with my story. I want to be sure that what I write is true.”

The old woman shrugged. “Too bad! Consuela not home. I like the way you tell stories. I bring you a cup coffee, yes?”

“Gracias, no. Por favor, can you say when she left?”

“I think last Tuesday. I see her put car in garage. In little bit she come out front door. She pulls big suitcase.”

“She didn’t take her own car?”

“Car still in garage. Dark-haired woman she come.”

“Did you recognize the woman who came to get her?”

“No. But I think she have mucho dinero she drive shiny car. I watch them drive away.”

Miguel nodded. “Mrs. Lopez, do you know if Consuela has any relatives living around here?”

The old woman shrugged. Miguel’s forefinger touched the button on his tape recorder, and then paused as she said, “I remember Consuela say she hope Momacita from San Antonio come visit this Christmas.”