[Ruined, Fat, Anxiously, Opulence, Neglect]

  I wasn’t as tired as yesterday but I had stayed up pretty late reading. I just hoped today would be a little calmer than yesterday. No matter how good the business afterward, I really didn’t enjoy being on TV. Luckily the only thing I had on my plate today was to call Eve and ask her if she wanted to move into Amy’s house. It will be ready by the end of the week. Lucy was already behind the counter.

  “Your here early, Lucy”

  “I couldn’t stand any more of my father’s ranting about the Benoits. God, he’s freaking out.”

  “Why?”

  “He doesn’t want them to know that I’m his daughter.”

  “Didn’t he see the video?”

  “Yeah, he saw it. He said I should have thought of a way to defuse the situation, not escalate it by calling the police.”

  “No, that’s not right, this entire thing was caused by that entitled so and so. Do you want me to call your father and explain the situation?”

  “No, Laura, please don’t. When he gets like this he’s impossible, it’s fine he’ll be headed to bible camp in a week, hopefully when that is over, all this will have blown over too.”

  “Where are you going to stay, while he’s at bible camp?”

  “At home, frankly I can’t wait until he is gone.”

  “You don’t have to stay alone if you don’t want to. We can clean up one of the bedrooms on the third floor. It won't be pretty but it will be clean or you can stay at Amy’s or sleep on the pull out sofa in the living room on the second floor if you want?”

  She laughed. “Laura, I’ll be fine, home alone. I was last year and this year I’m older and more responsible. Look at Willow, she was running both a store and a writers collective when she turned sixteen. That’s a little more involved than taking care of yourself for a month.”

  “Well you should at least eat here, Amy makes these huge meals and bakes all day. So just come over around eight thirty and have breakfast then we can work and you can have supper before you go home.”

  “That would be great, I like being home alone but I don’t like cooking. Plus my father leaves me money for food, so if I don’t have to buy food I can maybe afford a new laptop, I have some money saved up already.”

  I went over to the science fiction section and grabbed a copy of Foundation for Lucy.

  “Here, Lucy, go over to the reading nook for a while and try this. It’s my favorite Asimov book aside from his first robot book, I Robot. They made a TV show out of Foundation, but they changed so much that it is hardly recognizable. I threw my pillow at the tv when they turned the smartest strategist in the whole book into some kind of action hero. He’s the character that has the line violence is the last refuge of the incompetent. What do the producers do, they make ‘her’ violent, instead of smart like he was in the book.”

  Lucy went to read. That ought to calm her down. I’d like to give her father a piece of my mind. But I’m just glad that I kept her off of the TV news. I can imagine what her father would have said about his daughter facing down a group of christian protestors? What is it in the human genes that make us side with the group we happen to be closest to? Christians love other Christians when there is a Muslim around. Otherwise it’s Catholic vs Baptist. Cops close ranks and protect other cops, NY Yankees vs Boston Red Sox, Republicans vs Democrats. Placid vs Saranac. Christian vs Muslim. Is it a gene because for man to originally survive he needed a tribe. A lone human on the savana probably had a minuscule chance of survival vs an entire tribe of humans. So if it’s genetic that my survival is tied to my ‘group’ white, woman, Liberal, Lake Placid, New York, USA, North American, Western Hemisphere, Human World. I see white women as an exploited minority, but is that true my comparison to POC of either gender?

  Eve walked through the front door disturbing my train of thought.

  “Do you think it’s genetic?”

  “Do I think what is genetic?”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking of our propensity to form ourselves into groups. For instance why do we have a writers collective, why were musicians excluded? I mean many musicians are lyricists? Did the sounds of music disturb the writing process? If so, why exclude painters or any visual artists, surely they don’t make any more noise then the average writer would.”

  “Maybe it’s not genetic but learned behavior, Laura. Let’s say you go to a controversial movie like the “Life of Brian”, you are told ahead of time Christians sit on the left, Non-christians on the right. Which side do you sit on?”

  “I’d like to say the side that has the best seat still available, but I’d probably sit on the right, because I know that the movie is a comedy. I don’t want to sit next to a person, who I’d offend by laughing at their religion.”

  “Okay, what if the movie was the Ten Commandments?"

  “Still on the right for exactly the same, when I laugh at the burning bush scene or feel horror at the murder of the Egyptian babies. I mean instead of killing all those babies. Why not just knock out the entire Egyptian race for a few days that it takes the jews to escape? No one needed to die if god is all powerful, that should have been a snap. I could point out that discrepancy to the people on the right without offending them.”

  “What if the movie was Gone With The Wind?”

  “The right, slavery couldn’t have existed without the tacit approval of the christian majority.“

  “So you always sat on the right, because of how you felt. You felt more comfortable on the right. I believe that is learned behavior. You were told something and then acted on the info. Like how a person learns not to touch a hot stove, no one is afraid of the stove, until they get burnt. Then they become cautious.”

  “Alright then why did the writers exclude the visual artists? I mean they need visual artists to paint the covers of their book, at least they did before A I.”

  “They felt more comfortable talking to other writers, they have a common interest of putting words together in order to make sense of the world. What I find more interesting about the collective is why haven’t you excluded nonfiction writers? You refuse to sell their books.”

  “No, I do sell nonfiction, I just don’t stock nonfiction. I read nonfiction, just not a whole lot of it. I find more truth in fiction than nonfiction. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t lots of great nonfiction. My next re-read is going to be Walden. So I guess on my all time list of books, Walden is number three, because I’ve reread two fictional books before it. When I got my first computer, I read almost all nonfiction for about a year, all to do with computers, applications like Word, which I still used at the time.”

  “You don’t use Microsoft Office anymore?”

  “No, not for years, I use LibreOffice. It’s less distracting than Word, it has every function you need to write a book. It autoupdates, no need for a subscription fee or buying a new version every few years. I set it up once and I’m good to go, you can even get portable versions that live on a flash drive, and you can move from computer to computer with ease. It reads all of Word’s file formats, but also has its own open source format. The only thing that’s better is my note taking app Obsidian, it’s files are markdown files, which is just a fancy name for text files and every computer in the world can read text. So no matter what happens in the future. Your files will still be readable, as long as you have access to a computer.”

  “I’ll download LibreOffice and try it out.”

  “If you are used to Word, after you download LibreOffice, make sure to open settings and check any compatibility options you care about.”

  “Thanks, but that’s not why I came. I wanted to know if you had a chance to read my submission for the writers collective?”

  “No, I haven't. I'm sorry, I was going to call you today. So I’m glad you stopped in. Amy donated her house to the collective. It’s about two blocks from here and it’s very nice. We’re having your bedroom painted right now, it’ll be ready for you to move in by the end of the week.”

  “But you haven’t read my stuff.”

  “No, my neurologist told me my eidetic memory could pop back at any time, so I’ve been rushing through rereads of my favorite books before that happens. Eve, I know you are a good writer, and I plan on reading your submission. But to be honest, even if I hated your writing, I would still offer you a spot. You are the only reason I managed to stay out of prison and you did it for free. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t offer you a spot in our collective. But if you want me to put on my editor hat, on your submission or what you write once you are in the collective, just say the word. But some of my clients called me ruthless, when I told them to cut chapters from their books and that was to my face. I can just imagine what they had to say behind my back. But I’d be more than grateful if you’d let me edit your book for you. That’s the only small way I can pay you back. Of course once you find a publisher, they’ll want their editor to go over your work. But you can keep two versions, your unedited and edited versions.”

  “That sounds great, Laura, I’ll tell the inn, I’m moving out.”

  “Perfect we’ll have a welcome dinner so you can meet the other writers and we’ll go over the collective schedule, writing sprints, readings. Almost all the writers participate, but nothing is mandatory of course. If you are in the zone and don’t want to break concentration just keep writing. Also we decided to spruce up Amy’s house first, because it’s in better shape then our third floor. But as soon as Amy’s is done, they will start on the third floor here. The first room completed on the third floor is yours if you’d find it more convenient. Three more writers will be moving into Amy’s as soon as their rooms have been painted. Bianca and Anais, came up with a two new contracts, you get the free option, if you wish to, but not like I need to tell you just read over both and choose the one that fits best for you. Percentages and length of royalty splits are different. Bianca and Anais tried to make it fair for all the writers both those paying to be a member and also the free members.”

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  “I don’t want to be taking up a free writers slot, when I can afford to pay.”

  “You won’t be taking up anyone’s slot, Eve. Both Bianca and Anais knew that I was going to offer you a free slot. The only reason I'm giving you both contracts is I want you to pick the contract that is best for you personally. How much you realistically expect to make off of the books that you write here. For best selling authors it’s better to pay upfront, and give us a lower percentage of royalty and for a shorter duration. At least that’s my limited understanding of it. Feel free to speak with Bianca or Anais about it.”

  The video beeped, beeped, beeped.

  “Excuse me Eve, I think I have a customer in Woodstock.”

  I went over to the machine and said hello to Willow. I’d sent her a link to the TV news report. Which showed the video she had sent me with Lucy’s face blurred out.

  “Thank you Laura.”

  “For what, Willow?

  “For saying ‘The owner down in Woodstock, heard the whole exchange, but she is really really smart.’ And for plugging us by name during another question. I’ve already had customers come in saying they saw the clip.”

  “Well thank Lucy for that, she put in all the hashtags that she posted on social media.”

  “I know, she and I have been cross promoting our stores since Bianca introduced us to each other. But I have a customer here who wants some Douglas Adams if you have any instock.”

  “He is one of my favorite authors. We have multiple copies of each of his books in stock, I’ll be happy to help them.”

  Ten minutes later, I had an eleven book sale, printed and waiting for Lis to process when she came in later this afternoon.

  I yelled to Eve that I needed to run upstairs for the writers contracts, not to go anywhere. When I came back down, I handed her the contacts with a note with Amy’s address in case she’d like to take a look at her new home before moving in. It also occurred to me that we could welcome her to the collective tonight at dinner. She already knew a few of the writers and they all knew who she was as they had seen here at Monique’s arraignment, of course Monique adored her because it was Eve that had gotten her out of jail.

  “Why not start writing your bestseller today Eve? Grab your laptop and I’ll show you the writers living room, where the sprints and readings and when you just want out of your room writing happens, in soft comfy chairs. Writing is a solitary business, so it’s always nice to do it with a crowd around, unless you find that too distracting. Lot’s of writers like to change up their writing spots, so they’ll go to the bakery / cafe or the library. Whenever I want to brainstorm in the winter, I drive up to Whiteface ski lodge, it’s empty usually except for early morning and late afternoons when the skiers are either getting ready to go out on the slopes or coming back in. Gorgeous inspiring views, with hot chocolate and tea readily at hand. It’s the perfect place to read as well. I don’t understand why all those people go out to ski when there is a roaring fire in the fireplace and plenty of seats, for reading or writing.”

  “Laura, they go out skiing because they drove for hours to get here to ski.”

  “I know, Eve. It just seems like such a waste of time, sliding down on a mountain in the cold, when you could be curled up in a chair by the fire with a book.”

  “You need a purring cat in your lap to complete the picture, Laura.”

  “Yes, that would be lovely, the cat purring so loudly you can feel your bones vibrate in sympathy. While you hold your book in your left hand and absentmindedly stroke the cat with your right. But I need a third arm, so I can sip my tea. Forget about working on a cure for cancer. Scientists study the human genome to grow a third arm, I’ll be eternally grateful.”

  “I’ll go get my laptop.”

  But before she could leave, Faith Sinclair walked in, but the pretty blonde. She looked totally bedraggled and exhausted.

  “Laura, I need your help.

  “What’s the matter, Faith?”

  “I’ve been feeling down since Lachlan was murdered. Sarah has been trying to snap me out of it. I know it’s stupid but I really thought that we could have something special and long term. Sarah says that I’m delusional. But I can’t help it, I’m depressed and not sleeping. But now I’ve made it so much worse.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went over to Waterhole number eleven in Saranac last night. It was ladies night. Anyway, this guy starts buying me drinks. He was older and a little creepy but free drinks are free drinks. I went there because I thought a lot of stumpies would be in town and I really go for the loggers. They work hard all week and play hard all weekend. But there wasn’t any in sight. There were a lot of girls.”

  I saw a very corpulent man enter the store, when he saw that I was looking at him, he ducked down a side aisle where I couldn’t see him any longer. I found it odd, I was sure he’d never been in the store before. Yet instead of being seen, he darted down a random aisle. Usually newcomers to the store, grab one of Lucy’s map of the bookstore.

  “Anyway, there were a lot of girls and not many guys. That almost never happens, except on Ladies nights. But that usually brings in loads of men as well.”

  “So you got drunk, you didn’t get a DWI did you?”

  “No, Worse, much much worse.

  “What could be worse? You are not hurt are you or hurt anyone else?”

  “No, nothing like that. This creepy guy bought me like four beers over some three hours. While attempting to charm me. Sarah always says that I have awful taste in men. Last night absolutely proved that she is correct.”

  I remembered Sarah had said that to me when she told me how creepy Lachlan had been with her when they’d gone hiking.

  “While the sugar daddy bought me beers, he was getting more and more aggressive as the night went on. At first it was to charm me to his place, then how about we get a room at the Hotel Saranac, then finally he says how about a quickie out back in his car. Like we were still in high school or something. So, I’m trying to be polite and keep gently turning him down. Finally he says, alright how much for just straight sex, I could pick the place. So I say to this guy, thanks for the beers but not for a million dollars am I having sex with with you. Then he stood up, pulled out a badge and arrested me for prostitution. He pushed me face down on the table, claimed he was searching me for weapons but really just felt me up. Dragged me to the police station. Where I had to blow into a breathalyzer, which of course I failed. But I wasn’t driving, I was in a bar. They said because I was over the limit, I had to spend the night. So I spent the night in jail. I’ll lose my place at the fire house if they hear about this charge. That means I no longer get free tuition so college is out. I’ll be waiting on tables for the rest of my life, because I let the wrong man buy me drinks. Will you help me Laura?”

  This cop was much worse than Lachlan. At least Lachlan didn’t arrest women for turning him down.

  Before I can reply, Eve steps in and asks. “Did they allow you a free phone call, there is no way that you should have spent a night in jail, when you weren’t driving. Especially because if they had given you a phone call someone could have come and picked you up. On top of that, if their reasoning was that you had too much to drink and might be in danger they should have sought medical attention. Did they read you your rights?”

  “Um, who are you?”

  “I’m Eve Whittle, I’m an attorney and a friend of Laura's. If she agrees to investigate, I’ll defend you pro bono.”

  “I can’t afford a lawyer.”

  “No, I’ll defend you for free if Laura investigates.”

  “Eve, I’m no investigator. I got lucky with Lachlan’s case, nothing more.”

  Faith said, “No, that’s not true, it’s all over town how you found the real killer, and solved two murders at the same time. While the cops arrested some poor artist, for a crime they didn’t commit. Please Laura, I’m innocent, I don’t want to go to jail and I don’t have any money for a fine. My dream has always been to be a firefighter, that’s why I volunteered here. I thought after I got my degree, I could move to Albany or Burlington and get a job as a professional firefighter. But with a record, I’ll never get hired.”

  “Come on, Laura what do you say? We have to help this girl, she wants to devote her life to the service of the community. Do you think it’s alright that she got arrested for getting sarcastic with a cop? Who hadn’t even identified himself as a cop. Is that fair Laura? Is that the kind of community you want to live in?”

  “No, of course I don’t. But I’m not even sure where to start. I suppose I could get Amy and Anais to go over to the Waterhole and poke around and ask a few questions.”

  “Thank you Laura, I know you can clear my name, I just know it. I have to go home and take a shower, and a nap. I have to be in court at six tonight.” She turned to Eve. “What do I do at the arraignment?”

  “Faith, don’t worry, Laura and I will be at the arraignment. Don’t talk about this with anyone, especially law enforcement. No phone call and no reading of the Miranda warning. No evidence. If we get lucky we might get it dismissed tonight. Unless the judge is friends with the cop, then it’ll take a little longer.”

  They left after saying they’d meet me in court tonight. Amy was going to be delighted. She keeps on saying how unfair it was that she missed out on investigating Lachlan’s murder. I was about to call Anais to see if she wanted to try a new bar, when the corpulent man approached the counter with no book in hand.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “Yes, you are Laura, the owner of this fine bookstore, correct?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I was sure that it was, I saw you on the news yesterday. I’m Mattias Vitale, a church elder at Amazing Grace Assembly. Kai Benoit is the pastor there, at least for now. His wife Karen is making it increasingly difficult for us to renew his invitation to lead us in worship. I just wanted to come here and personally apologize to you, it’s horrible what Karen did and then to lie about it. Trying to pin the blame on a child it’s just unforgivable. Thank god you had that video. But I’m sure the rest of our church are upstanding members of the community and we would love to see you and apologize in person if you ever see yourself out our way on Sunday at ten or Wednesday night at seven. The entire church community would like to say they are sorry in person.”

  “Thank you, Mr Vitale. There is no need to apologize, a mistake was made, it has been righted, Please don’t hold Mr Benoit to account for anything his wife has done. I assure you no one here has any grudge against him or your church and as long as Karen stays off our property, we bear her no ill will either.”

  “That’s a very gracious and christian thing for you to say, Laura. I do hope that I see you again.”