She Sins at Midnight

by Whitney Dineen

  “No, no,” Jilly interrupted, “I saw this show on the Discovery channel once about spies and the disguises they wear. The idea is that the person who looks like they’re trying to fade into the woodwork, probably has something to hide. Therefore, the best way to hide is to look like you’re not trying to. Follow?”

  Lila laughed, “I get it, no one is going to expect Lila ‘psycho’ Montgomery to be driving around town dressed like she just escaped from the booby hatch, but they would expect her to try to sneak out in a black sweat suit and ski cap, ala cat burglar.”

  Jilly beamed, “Exactly! Where are you planning on going, anyway?”

  “I don’t know, probably the club. I feel safest there because they won’t let any of the press in.”

  Jilly unzipped her sweat suit and proceeded to take it off in the kitchen. Astonishingly, she was wearing an identical one underneath it; with one difference. The one underneath wasn’t too long. Lila had to admire her friend’s degree of planning. She almost expected her to suggest a code phrase like, “The kangaroo is constipated,” or “Captain Crunch has the shingles.”

  Out of her grocery bag, Jilly pulled out a matching pair of sunglasses and even a pair of sneakers in a size 9. As soon as Lila looked like Jilly’s evil twin, Bitsy walked into the kitchen and gasped, “Holy shit, you two look atrocious. But good job, Jilly, I’m guessing you caught ‘The Mata Hari Mystery Hour’ on Discovery?”

  Bitsy and Jilly had the shared interest in actually watching television to learn things. This hobby made them the keepers of a bizarre array of unusual knowledge. For instance, they knew how to fall out of a plane without a parachute and live to tell the tale. They had both watched the three hour special on how to land a commercial airliner, should some set of outrageous circumstances require them to do so and they had an alarming understanding of pumas.

  Jilly handed Lila her car keys, assured her the gas tank was full and wished her luck. Lila bid farewell to the spy sisters and told them she’d be back in a couple of hours. What with having no bat signal, she also suggested they call or text her should they need to get in touch.

  Lila’s heart raced in double-time as she walked out of her house and got into Jilly’s minivan. She didn’t see anyone in the front yard and had a brief hoped she had finally become yesterday’s news. She was beyond ready to put the whole sordid mess behind her.

  The biggest disappointment of all was the fact Creigh hadn’t tried to contact her to explain the scene with Melinda. She wasn’t sure she’d believe him either way. But the fact he didn’t even try, confirmed his guilt in her eyes. He was just another Hollywood player thinking with his “boy-wonder.”

  On the way to the club, Lila decided to stop by the market to see if she was still on the cover of any of the tabloids. She parked in a space right near the entrance and rather confidently walked though the electric doors. Before she even had the chance to check out the magazine rack, a pimply faced teenager in an orange smock called out, “That’s her!”

  Lila spun around to see who the kid was talking about when she was met by two police officers in navy uniforms. The taller one grabbed her arm and informed her, “You have the right to remain silent, blah, blah, blah…”

  Astounded, Lila asked, “Excuse me, why are you arresting me?”

  Little Blue answered, “You’re being arrested for vandalism.”

  “Vandalism? But I haven’t even left my house in three days. What could I have vandalized?”

  Big Blue informed her, “You were seen entering the ladies’ room of this store earlier today with a cart full of newspapers. When you exited, all sixty-four “Tattlers” were discovered missing their first three pages.”

  Lila’s synapses weren’t all firing, so she explained, “But I was home. Why would you think that it was me?” As she asked the question, she noticed Big Blue checking out her ensemble and all of a sudden the picture was in focus. Jilly had been to the market right before coming to her house and the two of them had to be the only people in Bentley dressed as neon psy-fi characters. Jilly must have seen the cover of the rag, taken offense and attempted to fix any wrongdoing by ripping the story out. While Lila admired her friend’s wily criminal bent, she was not looking forward to taking the fall for her offense. No wonder Jilly wanted to know where she was going. Had Lila said the grocery store, she could have been warned away.

  Big Blue asked Lila for her name and when she gave it to him, he took off his sunglasses and exclaimed, “Lila Montgomery? I heard you were back in town.”

  Lila looked at her captor and replied, “Johnny Bittner? How are you?” Johnny was the younger brother of Shelly Bittner, a girl that Lila and Jilly used to hang out with in grade school. She proceeded to tell Johnny her hypothesis of what must have happened with the tabloids and then she offered to pay for all of the papers.

  Little Blue interrupted, “Sorry Ma’am, we’ve already read you your rights. It’s up to the judge now.”

  Johnny pleaded Lila’s case, “Listen Darin, there’s no harm done if we let her pay for the damages. That’s all the store wants anyway.”

  Darin, the scummy weasel retorted, “I said no. A crime has been committed and we’re taking her in.”

  Johnny gave Lila an apologetic shrug and said, “Sorry Li, he’s the boss.”

  Little Blue went so far as to re-read Lila her rights as he handcuffed her, then put his hand on top of her head and pushed her into the back of the squad car. It was a scene right out of Cops! Lila thought, “Bad girl, bad girl whatcha gonna do? Watcha gonna do when they come for you?”

  The whole time this was going on, Johnny was saying, “You don’t have to cuff her. It’s just a little vandalism. Are you crazy?”

  As the squad car pulled out of the parking space, Lila looked up to see a photographer capturing the moment for posterity. So much for getting out of the house undetected. By the time they arrived at the police station, there were four more paparazzi waiting to immortalize the moment. Lila couldn’t figure out how they all knew where she was until she heard Johnny say, “For Pete sake Darin, you didn’t have to use her name when you called this in.”

  Darin looked very pleased with himself and got out of the car in slow motion, just in case anyone wanted to take his picture. Then at an even slower pace, he proceeded to pull Lila out of the backseat and lead her to the station house.

  The scene was right out of a made for TV movie. Lila had a powerful urge to play the part of the wrongfully accused and yell out, “This is just a ruse to draw your attention away from the real crime. The children are being smuggled across the border. Please, help the children!!!” That was the moment when she realized she had lived in L.A. too long. The line between reality and fantasy was seriously starting to blur.

  Expecting to be fingerprinted, photographed and booked, Lila was surprised when Captain Fenton asked, “Miss Montgomery, wouldn’t you rather pay for the damages than go to jail?”

  Lila assured him she would and Johnny interrupted, “She already offered to pay sir, but Officer Schultz was adamant that we bring her in.” Captain Fenton ordered Johnny to take her back to the market to make restitution before reading Darin the riot act.

  While this outcome was much better than actually going to jail, it did give the press another half hour in which to follow her. By the time she had paid for Jilly’s crime and was on her way home, there were five cars following closely behind hers. It looked like a mini funeral procession and the dearly departed was what had remained of Lila’s reputation.

  Chapter 21

  Melinda pulled up to Creigh’s house within minutes of getting off the phone with Oscar. She didn’t see his Mustang parked out front and he didn’t answer the door when she rang. So she assumed he was out and returned to the air-conditioned comfort of her car to read her book.

  Julius paced the floor of the library wondering yet again, why he agreed to let his mother throw a house party at Hedgeworth Hall. Then he remembered the captivating grey eyes, thick brown
hair and provocatively tempting bosom of Miss Vivian Ashwood. He hadn’t seen her since the night of the Willoughby’s ball when she had run off early. Of course he had been in the garden with the Countess at the time, an encounter he’d just as soon forget. How could he have considered dallying with the likes of Isabelle when what he really craved was the soft, supple form of Vivian?

  Julius tried his best to forget about her and concentrate on something else; anything else, as he knew that the deliciously wicked pull he felt for her could only lead to trouble. But when his Mother suggested the house party and he saw that the Duke and Duchess of Wentworth were on the guest list, his only thought was to see Vivian again.

  Julius knew that he had a duty to produce an heir but the thought of matrimony had always left him cold. He was convinced that his brother, Nathan, or one of his sons would inherit the title upon his death. Yet lately, he was having a strange yearning to fill his own nursery and he pictured his children having the thick dark tresses and grey eyes of their mother.

  Melinda was furious that romance novels always favored the virginal, goody-two-shoes rich girl. What about the women of the world like her and the Countess? Didn’t they deserve to find happiness too? After all, they were the ones who were out there earning it on their backs, putting up with the disgusting attentions of sleazy old men in order to climb the ranks of society.

  Well, Melinda was bound and determined to use this little house party of Creigh’s to her advantage. She would get revenge for herself and the Countess. She would get the lord of the manor into her own bed, once and for all. In fact, who said she had to marry Oscar? Creighton Ashwood appeared to be just as wealthy and was a million times better looking. Why should she settle for the toad when she could finally wind up with the prince?

  Melinda waited in her rental car for over an hour before another car turned into the driveway. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Creigh’s red Mustang but a crisp white Mercedes with North Carolina plates. The woman who stepped out of the driver’s side was exceptionally beautiful. She had long auburn hair and the sleek bearing of a woman born to money. Melinda thought she looked like the stereotype for the perfect socialite which really pissed her off. She’d had enough of all these pretentious ladies.

  The woman approached Melinda and asked, “Hello. Who might you be?”

  Melinda defiantly answered, “I’m Melinda Forrester. Who are you?”

  A bit taken aback by Melinda’s tone the woman answered, “I’m Jessica Wentworth. I’m Creigh’s sister.”

  Melinda immediately softened her demeanor and gushed, “Creigh’s sister? I’m so glad to meet you. I’m a good friend of your brother’s.”

  Playing her part to the hilt, Jessica commented, “Really? He’s never mentioned you.” Then without allowing Melinda a chance to speak, she added, “Well, as long as you’re here, you might as well help me with my bags.”

  Jessica dropped her suitcase at Melinda’s feet and proceeded to the front door.

  Irritated beyond belief, Melinda picked up the luggage and followed her. She hadn’t even carried her own suitcase in longer than she could remember. But this was Creigh’s sister and maybe she could use her to get to her brother.

  Jessica pulled out a house key, unlocked the door and proceeded to disarm the security panel. She glanced at Melinda and suggested, “Why don’t you get my other bags out of the trunk while I get settled.”

  Melinda gasped and had to keep herself from screaming. She managed, “I’m staying here too. Why don’t you take me to my room so I can get settled?”

  Jessica answered, “I wouldn’t dream of showing you to a guest suite without my brother’s say so. After all, I don’t know that you really are our guest until he confirms it.”

  Melinda was ready to wring Jessica’s elegant neck. She didn’t care if she was Creigh’s sister. Nobody treated her like that. “Excuse me Jessica, but I don’t think you’re aware of who I am.” Then slowly, like she was talking to a child she said, “I am Melinda Forrester, the movie star?”

  Jessica eyed the younger woman coldly and said, “Melinda, I’m not sure you know who I am. This is my home and if you think that you’re going to stay here, you better try a little harder to be agreeable.”

  This was not at all the way Melinda anticipated the house party starting. Instead of doing one more thing for Creigh’s bitch sister, she planted herself in the living room and waited for him to return. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen until 9 o’clock that evening.

  * * * * *

  Bitsy and Jilly were in the kitchen watching a special on the Food Channel. Bitsy loved that crazy show where famous chefs were given something like four ingredients and thirty minutes to make a gourmet feast. Whoever made the most inventive and tantalizing meal, won. The fun part was that the ingredients were always a bizarre assortment of items that no real people ever cooked with. For instance they might say, “You have to use pancetta, raisins, squid and sprite. Ready…set…GO!”

  One year for Christmas, Will bought Bitsy “Plutonium Chef” chef’s hats and aprons as a stocking stuffer. She had never worn them before but decided to pull them out for her and Jilly. That’s when they heard the commotion out front. They ran out the front door to find Lila lying on the “Welcome” mat with a slew of photographers surrounding her.

  Bitsy’s mothering instinct went into overdrive and she started screaming at the paparazzi to stay away from her daughter. Possessed by her new and improved vocabulary, she let loose every foul expletive that she could think of. After her tirade, which had been visually documented by the stunned assemblage, Bitsy and Jilly helped Lila into the house.

  When the door was safely shut, Lila’s Mom asked, “Sweetheart, what are you doing home so soon?”

  Before she could answer, Jilly added, “And why were you lying on the “Welcome” mat?”

  Lila eyed the plutonium chefs in front of her and answered Jilly first, “I tripped over my shoelace.”

  Then she looked at Bitsy and answered, “I thought I’d go to the grocery store before the club to see if I was still public enemy number one.”

  “The grocery store?” Jilly squeaked.

  “Yes, Jilly, the grocery store. Is there any reason you can think of that might not have been the best decision?”

  Her friend uttered, “Oh no.”

  “Oh, yes. Just an FYI, the Mata Hari Mystery Hour was teaching you how to dress like a spy, not a vandal.” She proceeded to relay how she had been arrested, photographed, taken in to the police station, photographed, escorted back to the grocery store, photographed, followed home and photographed yet again. Of course they would be in the last batch of photographs.

  Jilly apologized profusely, “I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry! It’s just that when I saw the cover of ‘The Tattler’ I went a little nutty.”

  Lila asked, “Do I want to know what the story was about?”

  Her friend grimaced and answered, “I don’t think so.” Then she changed the subject and asked, “How about a nice grilled cheese?”

  Lila was pretty sure her day had passed the point of salvation; so much so that she no longer had faith that the power of her favorite food could turn it around. But not being a quitter by nature, she decided to give it a shot, “You have to make it extra cheesy and special though. I don’t think a plain one is going to do the trick.”

  Bitsy and Jilly sent Lila upstairs to get cleaned up and then got to work on a sandwich to end all sandwiches. Bitsy fried bacon until it was perfectly crisp while Jilly thinly sliced beefsteak tomatoes. They also made the decision that instead of melting a small amount of butter in the pan, they would go the whole nine yards and actually butter the bread. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures.

  After a successful lunch they all sat down and watched a special on how to survive natural disasters. Lila learned how to get bit by a cobra, survive an avalanche and get caught in one-hundred mile an hour winds and live to tell the tales. After two hours, she reali
zed that no one expected you to survive if you wrote a sexually explicit novel and then became the center of a tabloid media storm. It was very disheartening.

  After Jilly left, Lila decided to go upstairs and call Cyn to see if she had any updates. After two rings the phone was answered, “Cynthia Flynn’s office. How may I help you?”

  “Charlotte, its Lila.”

  Charlotte exclaimed, “Holy crap, Lila! What’s going on in that town of yours?”

  Lila sighed, “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

  Charlotte decided, “It’s like an episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a real nutter.”

  While Charlotte was trying to be supportive, all Lila could think of was that most of the world didn’t know her and they probably thought the same thing. “Charlotte, is Cynthia there?”

  “No. She won’t be in until some time next week. I thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  Confused, Charlotte answered, “I don’t know the details. All I heard was that she had a family emergency.”

  Now Lila was confused. Cynthia’s dad ran out on her and her mom when she was two and hadn’t been heard from since. Her mother was a drunk living in a trailer park in Wichita and Cynthia hadn’t spoken to her in years. Add to that, she was an only child and Lila was hard pressed to come up with a family for a crisis.

  She hung up with Charlotte and decided to call Cyn’s cell phone. After the three rings, the voicemail came on with a new message, “You’ve reached the voicemail of Cynthia Flynn. I’m out of town on a family emergency. If you need to speak to me regarding one of my clients, please call my assistant Charlotte at Quest. If this is personal, I will return your call next week. Thank you.” Beep.

  Lila said, “Cyn, it’s me Lila. What family emergency? Are you okay? Do you need me to fly to Kansas to be with you? Of course all the muckrakers on the planet will come with me, but I want to be there if you need me. Call me, I want to help.”