EPISODE 1 – FOUND CONFUSION
A wife who finds a strange man standing over her estranged husband’s body must make split-second decisions before her world comes crashing down.
Melding Hearts
BREANNE dresses mannequins in a department store part-time while taking occasional culinary classes. When the lunch crowd dissipates, she finds a quiet corner in one of several upscale cafés. After ordering an appetizer, she reads a mystery book or solves crossword puzzles.
Much like living mystery novels, she imagines elaborate backstories for patrons who enter. The body language of one middle-aged couple suggests an imminent breakup. A young man is about to propose to his girlfriend. Then a debonair gentleman takes a seat alone across the room.
“Whoa, who is this handsome drink of water walking into my life?” she asks herself. “He has the potential to become my husband.”
She watches him order a drink and begin a crossword puzzle. Breanne approaches to request unneeded assistance with her puzzle to strike up a conversation.
“My name is Trenton. Please have a seat. Do you dine here often?”
“I dine somewhere often. How I fill my days is as much a mystery as the novels I read.”
“I see. Is that something you do for a living—read books?”
“No, it’s a hobby. I’m still meandering through career choices.” To keep the conversation interesting, she deflects attention from herself. “Do you work nearby?”
“I work near and far,” he responds evasively.
“Oh, is there much traveling to exotic places?”
“There are exotic places everywhere, if you know where to look.”
The banter continues over several months, leading to their marriage. They move into a quaint starter home and convert the second bedroom into a home office. Although a description of Trenton’s employment is elusive, he is a good provider.
Before their first anniversary, Breanne’s deductive powers suspect philandering. After spending several days away, he comes home with lipstick on his collar. Though he denies her accusations, he doesn’t provide satisfactory explanations. After a heated argument, Breanne moves out to rent a room above the department store where she works.
The Discovery
After a few months, she responds to Trenton’s invitation, assuming he wants to reconcile with a confession. The tumblers click as Breanne uses her key to unlock their front door.
“Trenton, I got your message. What’s so important?” she calls out while closing the door behind her. There is no response as she sets down her purse and walks the length of the hallway.”
The hardwood floor squeaks as she searches the living room, his office, and his bedroom. She gasps when she sees him lying on the kitchen floor, an insulin syringe in his arm. She gasps again, taking two steps back when she sees a stranger standing beside him.
“I’m calling the police,” she warns before realizing that she set her purse down somewhere. “What did you do?”
“You need to take a deep breath and think before you act. Don’t touch the crime scene. Someone has set you up?”
“How did you get in here?” Her heart races while scanning the room for a sharp object to protect herself with.
“We can have a lengthy conversation about all your questions until the officers come and handcuff you, or you can trust me to get you out of this.”
“Trust? Who are you?”
“I’m Police Inspector Reynolds.”
“I don’t believe it,” she sobs. “Is my husband… dead?”
He steps forward to console her as she takes a step backward.
“Don’t come near me!” she shouts.
“I’m not here to harm you. If you refuse my help, phone the authorities. I won’t be here when everything hits the fan. You need to decide quickly because we need to go now!”
“Go where? Why?”
“You may have been the intended target. Get your car off the property. Meet me on the South end of the park by the children’s play area. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
She hurries to the hallway to grab her purse, asking further unanswered questions. When she returns to the kitchen, Reynolds is gone. So Breanne tries to steady her trembling hands on the steering wheel during the five-mile drive. On the way, she hears sirens and sees a stream of emergency vehicles heading toward the home she once shared with Trenton.
The Identity
Breanne slows near the park, her head jerking like an owl. As a precaution, she phones the local police station, asking for the desk of Inspector Reynolds. No one by that name works there. When she arrives at the South end, she gets out, cautiously heading toward the children’s play area until she approaches Reynolds.
“What happened to my husband?”
“I found him just as you saw him.”
“There is no Inspector Reynolds at the local police station. Who are you?”
“I never said I was from the local station. I said I’m here to protect you. Right now, the police are gathering your DNA from the crime scene.”
“Of course. I have lived there and have a key.”
“Why did you move?”
“Like you, my husband wasn’t very honest.”
“Do you hear what you’re saying? You have means, opportunity, and motive.”
“I still don’t understand your connection to my family.”
“Your husband was my confidential informant. The women you suspect he was unfaithful with were criminals that he worked with undercover to expose.”
“Wait. Are you telling me that Trenton was some type of secret agent?”
“All I can say is that he was a good asset. Now I must piece together the information he provided to crack the case he was working on. It may, in turn, solve his murder and clear you of criminal charges.”
“This is a lot to take in.” She sits on a bench to fumble through her purse for a tissue to blot her eyes. “Where? Where do we begin?”
Continued…
Return twice weekly for miniseries. Use of this material for generative training or republication in any format without authorization is prohibited. Any relation to actual persons or events is coincidental. Login provides the most immersive experience. About 2200 total words. Audio may include sound effects that alter reading time. Story includes one or more generative AI images to help readers visualize scenes.
