Splitsville.com (8 page)

Ten

Somehow I have to get some work done today. And it’s a good way to get Bradley, creepy Kent, and Sam the dog off my mind.

I pull up the next dump in line. This one has been hounding me for days. I scroll down the computer screen to read the reason for the dump and prepare my little speech for the dumpee.

I scan, then freeze.

“
What
?” 

I re-read the reason out loud and slowly. “My boyfriend killed someone, and I can’t take the guilt. I moved out of town and don’t want him to know where I am. He doesn’t have my cell number. Please do this for me. I am worried for my life.”

Oh my God! Of course this has to be the first dump of the day. And someone wants me to dump a killer? I’m trying to stay out of jail, not get there. I can’t do this even under the best circumstances-which isn’t right now with the looming death of client Dabi Stone. I do not want anyone else’s blood on my hands.

I quickly find Sabrina Reed’s phone number on her file and dial the not so secret cell number.

“Hello?” I’m a little taken aback at her answering. I most certainly wouldn’t answer any phone if I were privy to a murder. Sabrina’s sultry voice throws a big red wavy flag my way. “Hello, is anyone there?”

Damn! I forgot to block my number by typing in star sixty-seven before I dialed her number. “Hi, is Sabrina there?” I decide not to hang up because she is going to have this number either way now. I kick myself for getting sloppy.

“This is Sabrina.”

Okay, seriously Sabrina, I want to say, you’re not good at hiding if you answer your phone and don’t change your name.

“I’m Jenn from Spiltsville.com. I received a request from you to dump your boyfriend. You, um, you said he
murdered
someone.” I can’t stop myself from thinking she’s an idiot. “I’m just letting you know that your request to break up isn’t going to happen. You have to go to the police.”

“I can’t do that, Jenn.” Sabrina sounds like a strong girl, and awfully together for someone who fears for her life. “You have to break up with him or he’s going to kill me. Isn’t that what your service is for?”

“No, as a matter of fact, my service is all about helping people get into better relationships by shedding the old ones. I can not be an accessory to any murder or put my company’s name through the mud.”

“So you’re telling me that with all the crazy people out there, you’ve never had any request like mine?”

“Breaking up? Yes. Breaking up because you have pertinent information about the life and whereabouts of a human being’s murderer. No!” I practically come out of my seat. I wish I had a picture of her. “Again, No!”

All the clues point to this dump as a fake. She did pay so it must be real. I pull up the picture of her murderous boyfriend. He looks more like a book nerd to me.

“How much?” she asks.

I rub my temples. “How much what?”

“How much more money is it going to cost me for you to dump him and not go to the police?”

“First off, you can’t bribe me.” The nerve of her. Of course first I have to figure out exactly how I’m going to alert the police without also alerting them that I’m behind Splitsville.com, but Sabrina doesn’t need to know that. “And secondly, I am going to give all this information to the police. I’m obligated to by law.”

“Wow. Did you eat some bitch cereal today, Olivia?”

I fall off my chair. Oh my god! She’d picked up on the fact I didn’t hide my number and now she knows my real name. Think! Think!

“What did you call me?”

“Are you referring to Olivia or Bitch?”

I’m just plain offended by her comment. It snaps me out of my panic. “My name is Jenn and I do like bitch cereal and not only did I have a bowl, I had two.” I slam down the phone and anonymously make a call to the local Park City police department.

“911 what’s your emergency?” the operator asks.

“Yes, I’m not going to say my name, but…” I use my best southern drawl that sounds much like a dead cat.

I tell the operator the names and numbers of both Sabrina and her murderous boyfriend and hang up. There is no way I’m going to expose who I am or how I know the information I gave her. Plus, if I keep it under a minute they can’t trace my call, right?

Or at least that’s how it is on all the cop shows—under a minute. God, I hope they’re right.

“What are you doing?”

I jump around to find Aunt Matilda in a new tie-dyed peasant dress. Her coal black hair is in two low pigtails. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were coming by today.”

She makes her way back to the kitchen. “I didn’t know I had to call.”

I follow her to make sure I didn’t hurt her feelings. That’s the last thing I need to worry about. “No you don’t, it’s just normally I can hear you coming. I love your new dress. And your pig tails are very endearing.” I see the sparkle come back to her eye. She can never turn down a compliment.

“Oh, just trying something new.” She works her way around the kitchen like a busy bee making another pot of coffee, while wiping the counter behind her.

“I have another client, but I’ll take a cup of coffee afterwards,” I say walking back down the hall. That will be a good time to catch her up on Dabi, Kent and Michael.

Some dumps just have to be fast. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of meat on this one. Michelle is breaking up with Keith because they aren’t right for each other and they both know it. I can get this one over before the coffee is done brewing.

“Hello, is Keith there?” I ask when a guy answers. From his picture, he’s boring as dirt. Blond hair, glasses, and no expression. No wonder Michelle’s dumping him.

“Mm, yeah,” he confirms.

“Hi Keith, I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com.” The place to come if you want to be murdered, I think. “I am calling on behalf of Michelle. She hired Splitsville.com to break up with you because she says every time she tries to do it herself, you get angry or depressed.”

“It’s a little too late for April Fool.” Keith chalks it up to a joke.

“Keith this isn’t an April Fool’s joke. You know and she knows you aren’t good for each other, so just let it go.”

It seems to sink in. “How do you expect me to do that?”

“I don’t know. That’s beyond my realm of expertise. I do the breaking up, not the healing. I do know that you are going to call her when we get off the phone but don’t. She won’t answer.” I convince him to just cut his lose and move on.

“Of course I’m going to call her.”

“Don’t do that. How would I know all of this if this was a joke? She’s not going to take your call,” I assure him. I can’t bring myself to be a smart ass. Since Dabi, I’m afraid every dumpee might go cap the dumper. 

“Keith today of all days, this needs to be really simple. All I need is for you to tell me you understand.” I have to cut to the chase and finish this call so I can get all of my problems off my chest by talking to Aunt Matilda. The coffee smells delicious.

“I guess,” he mutters, which is all I need to hear. If I look up “guess” in the dictionary, I’m sure affirmation would be in the definition.

I don’t care. I take it. “Thank you for using Splitsville.com.” I hang up the phone just as the doorbell rings. I hop up to answer it, but Matilda beats me to it.

“Hi Matilda.” 

I peek over her shoulder to see who’s at my door that knows her.

The police officer standing in front of her catches a glimpse of me, then looks back at her. “Hello Carl, it’s been a while.” Either Aunt Matilda is eating a sour grape or she sounds like it.

I stare at the six foot tall thin man and wonder what Aunt Matilda’s distaste is. His salt and pepper hair is cut short exactly the way Aunt Matilda likes on a man, so it can’t be his appearance. Maybe it’s his aura?

Really it sounds like Aunt Matilda is a little hacked off at Carl. Never having heard my aunt speak to anyone in this tone, I want to stay and listen a little longer. Not that I’m eavesdropping. It is my house and wait. . .why is he here?

I keep silent, watching the ping-pong game going on between them.

“How have you been?” He takes his hat off in a well-mannered Park City man way.

“Fine. I don’t believe you told me why you’re here.” She’s so suspicious. Interesting.

“I didn’t know you lived here.” He looks back at me and then right back at Aunt Matilda. “And I didn’t tell you why I’m here.”

He glances over her shoulder to take another look at me.

“I don’t. You remember Olivia don’t you?” she asks. To me she says, “Do you remember Carl, one of the police officers I used to work with?”

I vaguely remember him giving me a doughnut once and him being one of the few nice auras around that place, but other than that, no. The muddy blue aura surrounds him causing me to wonder what he’s scared to say.

I smile, trying to hide my nervousness, but my lip starts to twitch. “Hi, Carl. Good to see you.” I nod, and have to close my eyes and steady myself by holding onto my aunt. His aura begins to radiate around me causing me to become dizzy and nauseous.

Not now. I repeat over and over in my head for this feeling to go away.

“I’m sorry Carl, my niece isn’t feeling well.” Aunt Matilda steps back in holding onto my arm. She begins to shut the door and I focus on her aura, not his. “We will have to continue our chat later.”

He catches the door and pushes it a little wider. “I’m sorry, Matilda, I need to speak to your niece.”

“Don’t worry honey. I’ve been taking notes.” Her eyes narrow letting Carl know she’s not happy about this. Aunt Matilda can tell I’ve seen something, and walk me to the couch.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well Olivia, but can you answer a couple questions for me?” Carl tries to be as nice as a policeman can be.

“I’m fine,” I assure my aunt. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting them.

Aunt Matilda jingles her way back into the family room with a cup of sweet tea for me. “Extra sugar, just like you.” She pats my head.

Carl sits in the chair closest to the couch. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the murder.”

Dabi Stone? What’s this got to do with Dabi? I’m a bit confused, but I’m not about to confess to anything.

“I heard about it on the news.” I have to admit I know about it, because I could fart and everyone in Park City would know about it.

“Did you know Ms. Stone?” Carl pulls out his little notebook. He clicks his pen and is ready to take some notes.

I tilt my head and give Carl a questioning look.

“Dabi Stone, the victim.” Carl reminds me. “Did you know Ms. Stone?”

“Dabi?” I roll my eyes in my head. “Um…no.”

“Really? You’ve lived in Park City all your life and don’t know Ms. Stone? Dabi as you call her.”

“Of course I know who she is, but I don’t know- know her.” I take a gulp of tea to get the knot down my throat. “We went to school together.”

“I see.”

I strain my neck a little to see if I can make out what he’s writing on his little pad.

“I mean…” I sit a little taller. This is completely the truth if I don’t count a few weeks back when I saw her at the coffee shop. “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”  

Really it’s not a lie because she’s the one who said hello to me and I didn’t say anything back. I take another drink of tea.

“So how does Splitsville.com work?”

I choke on my tea and spray it all over Carl’s face.

“Oh,” I grab a shirt from the pile of clothes on the floor, and wipe at his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Carl moves away from my dirty- well I really can’t tell if it’s dirty- shirt. “I’ve got it.” He pulls a big hanky from his pocket and wipes off the dribbles of tea and pieces of lemon peel.

“Now, I guess you might have some information about Dabi Stone.” He stands with that damn notebook in his hand. With a smirk on his face and a sarcastic tone, he says, “We took her computer from her house and noticed she used a break up service. We staged a break-up and to my surprise, turns out it’s you who’s been breaking all these people’s hearts. Talk of the town.”

“I…” I take a gulp and proceed once I see his blue aura mutate into a bright yellow. He’s aura tells me he’s fishing for answers. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I told Sabrina I won’t do the dump and I immediately called the police.”

“Yes you did, and that’s how we got your number.” He isn’t being so Mr. nice doughnut cop guy anymore.

“But I star-sixty-seven my number, and it was under a minute.” Those damn cop shows are never right. Those producers need to do better research.

“Yes but you didn’t with Sabrina, and you were on with her for about seven minutes. Sabrina is an undercover cop with Park City’s police. New girl, real nice and good at her job.” He smiles like a teen boy who just stole his mom’s Victoria's Secret catalog out of the mailbox.

“We need to know everything about Miss Stone’s break- up and would greatly appreciate all the files you have on her. You do have files on all your clients—right?” His salt and pepper hair glows brighter with his new silver aura.

“I do somewhere, but I’ll have to dig them out and it may take a couple of days.” Total lie, but his radiant glow says he’s open to what I have to say. Plus, I want to gain more time to talk to Michael.

“I expect them at the police station by tomorrow or Park City’s finest will be back with a subpoena. I’m sure you don’t want the whole town to know who Jenn from Splitsville.com is.” He reminds me of the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. I don’t focus on any part of him or I just might break. Which is just what he wants, I know. “Good to see you again Matilda.” He puts his hat on. “Oh, and Olivia-don’t leave town.”

I stay on the couch and let my aunt walk Mr. Cop Carl out. If I stand, I just might fall over.

“Sounds like you have some explaining to do?” I say when Aunt Matilda slinks back into the room.

She squirms. “No, little girl. You do.”

There’s no sense in trying to pry out why she acted like she did when she saw Carl. She’s more closed up than Fort Knox when it comes to her personal life. And there’s no way I can keep anything from her. She might be getting up in age, but her psychic instincts haven’t gotten anything but sharper. Or maybe she’s more in tune since retiring.