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Tom Morgan is the D.A. of a small town where nothing happens, or so everyone thinks, soon he will find himself in the middle of a murder investigation. Involving the most hated man in town and his attractive, charming wife, who is accused of the crime.

This small town lawyer might bite off more than he can chew when he decides to help the accused woman, Heather Wren, herself. With so many lies and secrets, how will he find the truth?


4. Chapter Two

Heather WrenQuite literally soaked from her head to her toes, water runs from her rain-soaked red hair and clothes. The make-up she had been wearing had run, especially around her eyes. Again he couldn't help but think to himself how pretty she really was, despite the sloppy hair and smudged make-up. But, how in the hell did she end up at his home? Why is she here, standing on the porch of his home dripping wet with rain.

"I am so sorry for disturbing you, but my car broke down, and I'm also really lost."

He stands back in the shadows of his house, "Don't you have a cell phone?"

"Well, yes. I did." Her cheeks turn slightly pink as she smile, "I, uh, well I threw the darn thing and it shattered. Yeah, all over the ground just tiny scattered pieces of my phone."

She bites her lip, which for some reason, he found to be very attractive. "So, may I come in? I just need to use your phone, that's all. I will make it very quick, just let me use your phone, I'll wait in my car for help so you don't even have to let me in for longer than five minutes."

She speaks very fast, obviously nervous as hell. What was he to do? Obviously, she doesn't recognize him. He considers letting her in? Her of all people, a suspected murderess? Suspected the keyword, but he knows it must have surely been her. That's what the evidence points to, at least. Letting her in to use the phone wouldn't be the dumbest thing he'd ever done. Besides, how can he just leave her soaked in the cold rain, lost with her car broke down, and no cellphone to call for help?

Tom motions for her to come in, she smiles gratefully. She is drawn, and her once peach skin is pale. Did he invite in the devil, the thought jolts across his mind, what if she is guilty? Should he have even let her in?

She picks up the phone receiver, she puts it up to her ear only to replace it on its base. "Uh, the lines must be down, or something."

She bumps the letter basket next to the phone, mail scatters across the top of the table, some even fall to the floor. "I'm so sorry." She bends down to pick up the mail, "I've just had a hard last few days, but, uh, and anyways, I've been a little more clumsy than I usuall...

Her voice trails off, she rubs her nimble fingertips across the letter. She drops it, surprise fills her face. Quickly she scoops up all of the letters, she rises and just tosses them on the table top. "I'm sorry I woke you up, and also for wasting your time." She walks briskly to the door, "Thanks, and well, sorry."

She closes the door swiftly, and with that, she disappears. Loud cracks of the thunder break the sound of the falling rain, lightning splits the night sky. Oh, damn it! He rushes over to the door, he doesn't see Mrs. Wren anywhere, at least not in this downpour. His gut tells him to let her stay in the storm, to just close the doors and pretend he had never seen her, But, he knows he can't do that, no one deserves that. Not even a murderess, if that's what she is. He fumbles to throw on his jacket he kept next to the door. H pull the hood up over his head, quickly he puts on his shoes. He steps onto the porch, hesitant about going into the storm a moment, he then presses forward. Stepping off the porch, cold rain pours down on him, his jacket doing precious little to protect him.

He finally spots her in the distance as he sprints down the road, mud splashes against the bottoms of his blue pajamas, turning them brown. His shoes also are heavily coated with mud, soaking his feet in a mix of rainwater and squishy mud.

"Please stop." He knows that she can hear him, but she ignores him and continues to walk away at a moderate pace.

"Get away from me." She says in a low tone as he draws closer to her, she stops. "What do you want? Aren't you happy trying to ruin my life? Do you have to harass me too?"

"Really Mrs. Wren, it's just my job."

"Damn your job, and damn you. Nobody in this stinking town believes me. Do you want to know how many of my dear, close, faithful friends believe me? Zero!" She screams loudly, "Yell that's okay, I don't need any of them. They can all go jump off a bridge, and that includes you." Her eyes narrow, she gazes at him intently. "Your job ruins the lives of innocent people like me." She continues walking, but he doesn't move. The rain pounds down on him, she turns back for a moment more." Go home, you'll not get a confession out of me, tonight or any night. I didn't kill him, I wanted to, but I didn't." 

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