Fleeting Glimpse Read online

  The tension between her shoulders spreads out like octopus tentacles, covering her from the top of her head down her back. Chandra arches, twisting from side to side. “Great. I can’t wait.”

  “Don’t worry. Okay?”

  “Jane said you had an itinerary to go over?”

  “I’m not sure I will have it done in time for tomorrow. Chandra, just enjoy the flowers. They’re your favorite. Enjoy their beauty.”

  “All right. I guess so. I have some writing I have to do. I’ll see you tomorrow at four-thirty,” she says, disconnecting the call.

  “Meow,”

  “Hey, sweetie.” Lifting Theodore, he snuggles against her chin. “What would I do without you? Hmm?” She kisses his pink nose. He rubs his face against hers, his purr sounding like an old jalopy motor. “I think I need to throw these flowers out. I don’t want them.”

  Kissing Theo one more time, she picks up the vase and walks out through the garage to the trash cans. Lifting the lid, she gags. “Oh my gosh, what the hell stinks?” Peeking into the can, right there on the top, is a dead animal. “I thought security disposed of this for me? Hell, I could’ve thrown it in my garbage can.”

  Walking back into the garage she bolts the side door along with the mudroom door. She places the flowers back on the table, she stares at them. “They are pretty. I guess I could enjoy them at least for a bit.” Chandra lifts the security phone hanging on the wall.

  “Security.”

  “Hey, this is Chandra Willis.”

  “Oh, hey Ms. Willis, this is George from the other night. Are you okay?”

  “I am. I wanted to know why you guys put the dead animal in my garbage can? The one you took from my house. I thought you were going to dispose of it for me?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We didn’t put any animal in your garbage. We have a special bin for those kinds of disposals. It’s emptied more often than trash day.”

  “You didn’t put it in my trash?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, who put a dead animal in my trash?”

  “Do you think one of your neighbors did it, Ms. Willis?”

  Chandra presses the palm of her hand against her temple. A ball of molten lava forms in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Ms. Willis, maybe you should consider getting a security system installed. I have a few I can recommend to you.”

  A bead of sweat runs down her back as her skin tingles with warmth. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “I’ll get you a list. Call us if you need anything, Ms. Willis.”

  “Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, Chandra grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and a few aspirins from the shelf next to the fridge. Her appetite gone, she scoops up Theo from his perch on the kitchen table, heading towards the living room.

  She snuggles into the big soft cushions of her couch, wrapping up in the blanket resting across the back. Curling up on her side, she hugs her cat. “Just a small nap, Theodore. Maybe when we wake up, my headache will be gone.”

  Her mind races. She thinks about each of her neighbors trying to figure out which one would put a dead animal in her trash bin and why. She keeps to herself. She doesn’t bother anyone. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I couldn’t prove who did it, even if I knew for sure,” she says scratching Theo’s head. “Why can’t you be a dog? Hmm?”

  Theodore is sound asleep next to her. Curled up under the blanket, oblivious to her plight. Within a few moments, her eyes drift shut

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The late afternoon sun filters through her windows, casting a warm amber glow throughout the downstairs. Chandra blinks her eyes several times as her vision adjusts to the light. Yawning, she sits up, squinting at the clock on the mantle. “Theo, we slept way too long.”

  Stretching, she wipes the sleep from the corner of her eyes, heading towards the kitchen. Standing in front of her fridge, she scans the sparsely filled shelves. She looks over at Theo, who sits at his empty bowl. “Well, at least you have food in this house,” she says, filling it with dry kibbles.

  Opening the door to her pantry, she frowns. Lifting a few things, she inspects the expiration dates. “I should’ve stopped for groceries on my way home today,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t want to get out.” She uses the traffic as the reason. But truth be told, she doesn’t want to see anyone. Doesn’t want to sign a book or pose for a picture.

  Opening the junk drawer next to the fridge, she pulls out a Chinese takeout menu. Scanning it, she finds a few entrées she can reheat over the next few days, pushing her trip to the grocery store out past Wednesday.

  Hanging up the phone, her packed suitcase looms in the corner of the kitchen. “Ugh.” She exhales a sharp breath. “Crap.” She continues to mumble as she unpacks it, throwing everything into the wash in one load. She zips it closed and sets it next to the washer.

  She hears the muffled ring of her cell phone. Patting herself down, she searches the counter and her purse. “Where are you?” She follows the sound, leading her to the couch. Digging between the cushions, she finds it buried at the bottom. “Hello?”

  “Listen, you bitch. You got me fired.”

  She looks at the caller ID. Unknown number. “Who is this?”

  “You know who I am. I’m going to sue you.”

  “Thomas? Is that you?” She holds her phone out and puts it on speaker, then pushes the button to record the call. “Why are you calling me? I didn’t have anything to do with you being fired.”

  “Yes, you did. You told Jane about the offer. You didn’t have to go and tell her. This is what I get for looking out for you.”

  Chandra’s jaw hangs open. “Excuse me? How were you looking out for me by trying to trick me into leaving Baker and Son?”

  “Montreux offered you a huge contract. But out of some loyalty to Jane and Baker you screwed me over.”

  “I found out what you were doing. If I left and went to Montreux, you were going to get a sweet bonus. Not my fault you actually thought I would leave.”

  “You won’t get away with it. I’m suing you, Jane, and the company. I’ll do whatever it takes to ruin you. I won’t let you get away with this, Chandra. You’re the one I blame.”

  Chandra stares at the silent phone. Her heart thuds in her chest. Her trembling fingers make it next to impossible for her to hit the right buttons on her phone. She takes a deep breath, settling herself down, then dials Jane.

  “Chandra, I’m about to leave the office. What’s up?”

  “Jane, Thomas phoned me and threatened to ruin me. I recorded the call.”

  “Okay. Okay. I need you to take a deep breath. I promise you he’s trying to keep you from giving your statement to the court.”

  Chandra runs a hand through her hair. “What statement? I wasn’t aware I had to give a statement.”

  “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I found out from the lawyers today we would all need to give statements to combat his lawsuit. I forgot to tell you. I should’ve warned you he might try to contact you.”

  Chandra remembers the dead animal in her trash. “When did he find out we would be giving statements?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jane pauses. “I think two days ago. No, early Monday. Yes, yesterday.”

  A slight wave of relief washes over her. It must have been Thomas. “I think he put a dead animal in my trash sometime late Monday night.”

  “What? Are you serious? Do you have him on camera?”

  Chandra’s brow wrinkles. “No, unfortunately I don’t have a security system. I never thought he would resort to this.”

  “Has he done anything else?”

  “I’m not sure. I had something happen last night. I’m sure Thomas had something to do with it. I wonder if he sent those flowers to me as well.”

  “I could see the dead animal. Sounds like something he would do to threaten you. Although, I don’t see
him sending you flowers. Plus, I thought Adam sent those.”

  “No, he didn’t. Do you think I have anything to worry about?”

  “I really don’t believe so. I think if Thomas put the dead animal in your garbage, he did it to scare you. Possibly keep you from doing anything with the case.”

  “I don’t know, Jane. Maybe I should call off the tour. Or at least postpone it for a bit.” Chandra paces her living room. Pausing at her front window, she peeks out from behind the curtains.

  “I wish we could, but the dates have been set and people are expecting you. I’ll arrange for security to travel with you.”

  “Jane, I don’t…”

  “Listen, Chandra. I recognize how uncomfortable you are at the thought of doing this tour. But this tour is a must. Baker and Son have a lot riding on you. I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have anything to worry about concerning Thomas. I’ll call the lawyers and let them know what happened. Someone will probably call you tomorrow.”

  “I still don’t….” Chandra says.

  “I have to go. I’ll call you in the morning with details. Don’t worry, Chandra. Okay?”

  “Okay. I guess.” Chandra stands at the window. A car is driving down the lane. Her heart speeds up until she sees the delivery sign on the roof.

  “Talk to you in the morning.”

  The loud knock on the door makes her jump. She blows out a breath. “Coming,” she yells. She quickly signs the receipt, making sure to add in a tip. Thanking the delivery guy, she shuts and bolts the door. Before heading to the kitchen, she pulls the heavy drapes on the front window shut.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Wednesday morning

  Chandra races through her house. “I can’t afford to be late.”

  Theo looks up from his bowl. His whiskers covered in moist kitty food.

  Rolling her eyes, she bends down and scratches his head. “I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

  Theo growls as he continues eating his salmon feast.

  Driving out of her garage, she waits for the door to close. Chandra frowns as she looks at her neighbor putting out his garbage bin. “Oh crap,” she says slamming the car into park. She rushes to the side of the house. Careful to stay away from the dead animal she rolls the bin to the curb.

  Her stomach growls as she turns onto the main boulevard leading to the library. “I need a coffee.” Scanning the stores and restaurants lining the road, Chandra searches for some place to buy a cup of liquid pick-me-up.

  “Yes.” Chandra reaches for her wallet as she pulls into the drive-through of the Coffee Bean. Ordering a large mocha cappuccino and a blueberry muffin, she maneuvers back into traffic. Her phone pings. “Dang,” she says as she realizes she didn’t hook it up to the Bluetooth.

  Chandra sighs as she drives into the library parking lot. Her dash clock says she has ten minutes. Savoring her muffin, she enjoys the silence and her breakfast, as she checks her messages.

  I hope the library group goes well.

  “Hmm,” she says taking a bite of her muffin. “I wonder who this is.” The number is listed as private. Her throat seizes with dryness, making it hard to swallow her bite. Closing her eyes and breathing in and out through her nose, she takes a drink of her coffee. She hasn’t given her number to anyone in this group, although that doesn’t mean they couldn’t have gotten it.

  Wrapping up the rest of her muffin, she sips her coffee. “Quit thinking the worst. It’s probably just Gretchen.” Closing her eyes and resting her head, she takes a few moments to relax. Exhaling slowly, she grabs her coffee and her bag. With three minutes to spare, she goes inside to meet with her group of writers. Roped into this monthly meeting by Jane after Baker and Son published her first book, it’s now one of her favorite things to do. “Hello, Merna.”

  The older lady behind the counter looks up. “Chandra, I’m glad to see you.” Merna rushes out to hug her. “A month is too long between your visits.” She steps back, holding the author at arm’s length. “You look very tired, dear. Have you been sleeping?”

  Chandra smiles, nodding. “Yes. Probably not as much as I should.”

  “Then you’re working too hard.” Merna takes her hand. “You have some new people here today. People are finding out you hold this meeting, and they want to know all about you and your writing career.”

  “This isn’t supposed to be about me. I want to help other writers.”

  Merna pats her hand. “Honey, even if a few of them are here to meet you, the majority are here to learn how to make writing a career. Don’t let the fame seekers ruin it for you or the others.”

  Chandra’s eyes dart around. She looks over her shoulder, scanning the library. “You said a few new people are here.” She turns back to Merna. “Do you know them? I mean—are they regulars to the library?”

  Merna frowns, shaking her head as she leads Chandra to the meeting room. “I didn’t recognize them. I think it’s a couple of men and one young girl.” She shrugs. “I’m not sure. There could be more.” Stopping at the door, Merna pulls Chandra’s hand towards her chest. “I think what you’re doing for these writers is wonderful. Not many famous authors take time out of their day to help people, especially with no pay check in it for them.”

  “This group has saved me once or twice.” Chandra winks at Merna. “I think I’m getting the better deal.”

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.”

  Chandra watches Merna stop to help someone find a book. She’s reminded of her mother and her job at the library. A rush of memories floods her thoughts. Her love for writing came from all the time spent at the library, reading and escaping. It made her who she is now.

  Pushing open the door, several people look up. Many beam smiles and wide eyes at her, blanketing her in a cloak of awkwardness. She finds Gretchen at the front of the room and makes a beeline for her, smiling at a few visitors as she rushes past.

  “Gretchen, I’m sorry I’m running a little behind.” Chandra places her bag on the table.

  “You’re right on time. I think most people showed up early.” Gretchen gives her a hug. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

  “I did.”

  “And the book signing, did it go well?”

  Chandra nods. “Very well. The store had a big turnout.”

  “I’m glad. I know you didn’t want to go away for the weekend.”

  “I didn’t. And I’m happy to be home.”

  Gretchen glances at the clock on the wall. “Are you ready? I’ll introduce you.”

  Chandra smiles, nodding.

  Gretchen faces the large crowd. Mostly older women and men, with a few college-aged students in the mix. “Everyone, I would like to welcome you to this month’s Writing with Willis. At last month’s meeting, we decided to hold a Q&A this month. Chandra thought it might be time to answer specific questions to help each of you in your writing career.” She looks at Chandra. “Without further ado, here is Ms. Chandra Willis.”

  The room erupts in clapping and a few whistles.

  “Okay, okay. That’s not necessary. Quick background, I spent most of my junior high and teenage years in a library. My mother happened to be the head librarian. I spent every day after school reading. Doing this writing group is really my way of paying back.”

  Thankful she didn’t need to wear a microphone, the acoustics carried her voice, Chandra takes a small breath. “Who has the first question?” She glances around the room as several raise their hands. Smiling at a young college girl in the back, she points to her. “Yes?”

  “Hi, Ms. Willis. First, I have read all your books.”

  “Thank you,” Chandra says.

  “My question is, how did you get picked up by a publisher and what do you recommend someone do to increase their chances of getting a deal with a publisher?”

  “Wow. That’s a great question. Hmm. I didn’t set out to be a writer. I actually went to college to be a librarian, like my mother
. I wanted to be around books.” Chandra walks around the front of the room. “I had no idea I could be a writer. While in college, I entered a short story contest. I used writing to clear my head, take a break from my college studies. Mainly for fun, though. A few of my colleagues read some of my stories, and one of my teachers encouraged me to enter a short horror story I’d written.”

  Chandra stops pacing. She caught the eye of one of the long-time members of the group. “I hadn’t shown it to anyone else. I didn’t have it edited, I just sent it in. I got lucky, and it came in second. But the magazine that ran the contest wanted to run my story along with the first and third place winners. I said sure. After that, the same magazine asked me for another short story for their horror anthology. That’s where I got my start.

  “My story is a little different. From writing for the anthology, I got noticed by an agent. The one I currently have. She asked me to write a full-length novel and submit it to her. For you or anyone else starting out, submit your work to contests. Especially short story contests.”

  She glances around the room. “Make sure you do the best you can on grammar, maybe get a friend to read it before you submit it. Entering contests is a great way to get more experience under your belt. The best advice I can give is to read. Read books on the craft of writing. Read all genres. Learn what a story arc is. See how different authors approach the craft. Make sure you’re hitting what the readers of that genre expect.” Chandra walks towards the young girl who asked the question. “Are you in a critique group?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Get in one,” she says, walking back to the front. “A critique group allows you to get your writing in front of people. You need feedback. Honest feedback. When your story is complete, you’ll have to research what agents accept your genre.

  “Before you send in a query letter, make sure your manuscript is as well edited as you can get it. If you can’t pay for an editor, find an English major or English teacher to at least correct your grammar.” Chandra smiles. “Does that answer your question?”