Deadly Reunion (The Taci Andrews Deadly Series)

Deadly Reunion

By Amy Manemann

Copyright June 2009

First and foremost I’d like to thank my husband Dan, our two wonderful children Emily and Brody and all of our family and friends who, without all of your support during the writing process and the aftermath, none of this would have been possible. Many of you were subjected to unedited copies of
Deadly Reunion
to get overall opinions and your input was much appreciated during the final editing process.

I’d also like to say a special thank you to my dear friend Barb and her amazing trio of girls. You are my real life “Annie” and your constant support of my writing throughout the years has meant a lot. Thanks for being there when I needed a brainstorming session.

And last but not least thank you to Derrin Huizenga with the Clinton Fire Department for the guided tour of the Central Fire Station. Though I didn’t get a chance to witness someone sliding down the fire pole, your overall patience during my million questions and answering session was greatly appreciated, as were the many hilarious stories you shared. With book two of the Deadly Series in the works I’m sure I’ll be paying yet another visit to the fire station in the near future.

Prologue

Webster’s Dictionary defines precognition as the knowledge of an event before it occurs. Somewhere in the vortex of our minds this vast knowledge is tucked away for future reference, revealing itself only when that time comes to a head. An investigative reporter might call it their “ah-ha” moment. Myself I call it irony. Irony can be a tricky thing, especially when you are being thrown through the air due to an explosion that rocked the farmhouse you were just standing in. My “ah-ha” moment came with the realization that I’d known nothing good would come of the story I was working on, point proven by the crash landing I was now making on the solid ground.

Now I’d like to say that my life up to this point has been pretty standard for a thirty three year old single female with a penchant for attracting trouble, but standard would be an understatement. My name is Taci Andrews and I’m an investigative reporter for the Riverdale Times. While the life of an investigative reporter can be far from ordinary you learn to just go with the flow, especially when the flow happens to be the largest story the small town of Riverdale Iowa has ever encountered.

So far.

CHAPTER ONE

Five Days Earlier…

In high school you had your usual groups of kids. There were the preps, the jocks and cheerleaders, the drama kids and then the nerds. Thrown into this mix was a miscellaneous group of kids who kind of floated around, not quite sure where they fit in to the whole scheme of things. That’s where I was, a floater. I guess you could say high school wasn’t exactly a high point in my life, hence my hesitation at receiving an invitation to my fifteen year class reunion. As one of the lead investigative reporters for the Riverdale Times I pride myself on the fearless confidence I’ve developed over the years since my high school days, yet a small part of me has to admit the thought of seeing the faces of my fellow classmates again scares the hell out of me.

Ok, so I’m a big baby when it comes to reliving my high school days but I feel compelled to at least fill you in on my reasons behind it. I wasn’t exactly a raving beauty like most of the girls in my class. While they had their big boobs, perfect complexions and shapely legs, I possessed a flat chest and pimpled complexion, with stick looking legs that stuck awkwardly out from a pair of knobby kneecaps.

As you can probably guess, I was picked on quite a bit for my size. Now there’s an irony you can probably appreciate; I was picked on for being a thin person in an era where most girls would probably have given their big boobs for. While I have changed quite a bit over the years and my self esteem has vastly improved, the thought of taking a trip down memory lane still fills me with dread.

There it sat on my kitchen counter, the smooth white envelope stark against the creamy counter surface. I sipped my coffee while eyeing it, somehow half expecting a snake to slither out of the envelope despite its serene appearance. The ringing of my cell phone jarred me from my reverie and I flipped it open. “Andrews.”

“Hey it’s Mel. Did you get the invite?” the excited voice breathed in my ear. Melanie Bruggens had been my best friend since our senior year in high school. Her cheerful personality was only one of the things people found attractive about her. She was also a blonde haired blue eyed beauty who’d gotten along with pretty much everyone in our school. How we became friends was a mystery but we did, nonetheless.

“Yep, got it,” was my reply.

Melanie heaved a long, drawn out sigh. “You aren’t planning on going, are you? Come on Tace, you can’t tell me you still harbor grudges after all these years! I mean look at you, don’t you want to go back and throw it in their faces by showing them the goddess you are now?”

I glanced into the mirrored peg board magnetically stuck to my refrigerator, doing an assessment of my appearance. While a goddess might be pushing the limits I did have to admit I looked pretty darn good since high school. My hair, which used to be an untamable pile of blond curls, was tamer these days with a smooth straight style that fell just below my shoulders. My complexion was also a lot smoother, the pimpled complexities of my youth long gone. The hazel colored almond shaped eyes that I usually outlined with the barest hint of black eyeliner were my best asset I’d always thought, though my high cheek bones complimented by a full set of lips didn’t hurt with the whole effect either.

My skin still held a warm glow from a suntan I’d developed over the summer and fortunately the old knobbed knees with stick legs of my youth had filled out to leave me with a nice set of shapely looking legs. Thanks to a late growth spurt giving me bigger boobs and a good metabolism level I was still as thin as I had been my senior year. Eat your heart out I thought with a grin. “I’m not sure, the jury’s still out. Annie hasn’t decided yet either.”

Annie Hastings, formally Annie Brown, had gone to school with us as well. Like me she was a floater and had made her way through high school by blending in with the crowd. Getting married right out of school she became June Cleaver herself and took on the role of stay at home Mom. She seemed to have everything layed out pretty nicely until she caught her husband Bob on the receiving end of what could only be described as an ‘oral report’ from his secretary. Needless to say they are currently undergoing a nasty divorce.

“Well you two can’t sit around and decide forever, we need to RSVP to Valerie before next week to save our spots,” Melanie replied huffily. The sound of that name passing Melanie’s lips sent a shudder down my spine.

Valerie McAllister, formally Valerie Johnson, had been the bane of my existence in school. The most popular girl in our class she was perfect from her blonde hair that never seemed to have a strand out of place all the way down to her perfectly manicured toenails. Her perfection gained her the title of Barbie Doll but I wasn’t fooled. I knew that lurking deep down Barbie had a dark side, for I’d crossed paths with it on more than one occasion. Not one to bow down as I probably should have I was constantly subject to sly remarks and the brunt of jokes. She also was the source for nasty rumor spreading and I was fairly certain she was the one behind the rumor that I was a lesbian.

“Gee, in that case let me jump on that,” I responded, sarcasm dripping. I could feel Melanie’s eye roll through the phone.

“Seriously Tace, you need to get over these things. The past is the past, it’s not like you can change things. Besides, I ran into Valerie last week at the supermarket and she seemed….somewhat normal,” Melanie replied.

“Normal, no kidding? Gee, alert the press,” I said. I could hardly picture Valerie on a normal day. What would normal be like for her? Wearing sneakers instead of high heeled sandals?

“I said
somewhat
normal…you heard about her daughter didn’t you?” Melanie was saying and I tried to remember the story I’d read about. Valerie’s daughter Samantha was reported as a missing person a week past. The details were sketchy and police felt there was foul play involved but so far no one had come forward with any information and the trail was growing cold.

“I heard something about it but not much. Bryce assigned the story to Richard so I don’t have much for details, just whatever bits and pieces I pick up. You know, I may not have gotten along with Val in school but I do feel kind of sorry for her,” I admitted before I could stop myself. The instant overwhelming feeling of wanting to gag washed over me and I considered rinsing my mouth out with soap. I took another sip of coffee instead.

“Yeah well, it’s taken a toll on both her and Jason. She was walking around the supermarket wearing sweat pants and a sweatshirt. I don’t even think she’d brushed her hair that morning,” Melanie said in a hushed voice.

That caught my attention. To catch the infamous Barbie Doll wearing anything
but
something fabulous didn’t mesh with the picture of perfection I’d always known her for. I knew I should cut her a bit of slack. Being single and without kids I didn’t really know what it was like to lose one. I did lose a dog once though and to this day I feel a pang every time I see a golden retriever out for a walk.

“Sooo….let me guess, you want me to chummy up to Richard and see how the investigation is going?” I asked dryly. The urge to gag was back. Richard Owens was the other investigative reporter for the Riverdale Times. He also was an ex of sorts whom I caught nailing one of the staff writers in the copier room. In all fairness we’d only gone out on a few dates so it wasn’t like we were a serious couple. However I’d somehow expected him to be faithful until at least the fourth date.

Melanie gave another dramatic sigh. “Well of course I don’t want you to chummy up to Richard; I wouldn’t want you to stand too close to the snake. Of course if something were to ‘accidentally’ fall off his desk and you happen to see it while picking it up for him then you couldn’t really be faulted for that, now could you?”

“Oh goodie, an assignment I’ll just jump at. Look, I gotta run. Are we still meeting at Milroy’s for lunch?” I asked, anxious to put an end to my torment.

“Well duh, its Thursday isn’t it?” Melanie replied as if I were oblivious to the day. For as far back as I could remember Thursday’s have always been reserved for our weekly lunch dates. They were the perfect time for men bashing, coworker griping and setting plans for the weekend.

“Smart ass. Annie’s planning on coming today so be nice,” I forewarned her.

“Aren’t I always nice? She isn’t bringing the trio is she?” The trio referred to Annie’s three daughters; Amber, Sarah and Leah. They were sweet girls, despite having a crappy dad, and I didn’t mind spending time with them. Not being much for kids Melanie avoided them like the plague.

“Nope, she knows your fondness of children. She said she had something to tell us though, my guess is it’s about Bob,” I replied.

“Isn’t it always about Bob? All righty then, I’ll meet you at noon. Stay out of trouble until then, your karma feels kinda out of whack,” Melanie warned before disconnecting. I gave a soft sigh, flipping my phone closed. Melanie had an eerie sixth sense when it came to reading peoples karma; she had a 99.9% accuracy that scared the crap out of me. Annie didn’t buy into it much for a long time until the whole Bob fiasco. Melanie warned her a long time ago that his karma was all wrong for her and he would cheat the minute her back was turned. Despite it all Annie had married him anyway and was now living to regret her decision.

Tossing the remnants of my coffee into the drain I rinsed the cup and set it beside the sink before grabbing my purse from the counter and heading out the door. I lived in a three story apartment complex that over looked 5
^th
Street. While it wasn’t much to look at with its old brown brick exterior and worn lobby area, it felt nice and homey inside. The usual tenants consisted of elderly couples holding on to the hope that their kids wouldn’t ship them off to a nursing home, young single mother’s trying to get back on their feet and a few miscellaneous people such as myself who didn’t mind living in a less than exotic location. Besides, the rent was cheap and it was close to work. Good enough for me.

I exited through the lobby door and into the parking lot, walking briskly towards my dark blue civic parked near the alley. Beeping it unlocked I slid behind the wheel, reaching down to crank the engine over before backing out of the stall. Turning into the busy traffic I wound my way towards the office, a thousand questions floating around inside my head. While I had no lost love for Valerie McAllister I guess I did somewhat feel sorry for what she and Jason were going through. Maybe I’d do some checking when I got to the office I decided, taking a sharp left onto Third and Vine.