Mystery and Crime Fiction posted January 22, 2025 Chapters:  ...30 31 -32- 33... 


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Aaron comes over to talk about his book.
A chapter in the book Miranda Chronicles: Teacher's Pet

White Noise

by GWHARGIS



Background
Miranda Jessup Buckley is back and in trouble again
So far, Miranda Buckley is raising the son of her ex-lover, Dougie. When Dougie disappeared without a word, Miranda got temporary custody. Now, Dougie has come back, and Miranda is afraid he is here to take his son. Then, a teacher who has been giving Waylon a rough time gets murdered, and all signs point to Dougie as the culprit. As much as Miranda wants Dougie out of her life, she knows he is innocent and now has to prove it.

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Aaron is sitting on his porch and makes a bee line for my car as I pull into my space. Usually, Waylon is all smiles when he sees Aaron. Tonight is different. He looks tired, and has been unusually quiet on the ride home from the hospital.

"I can tell him to go home. It's up to you," I say, before either of us get out of the car.

"No. It's fine. Maybe Aaron has some good news."

I smirk as Aaron comes around, a curious look as he waits for us to get out. "Whatever, it is always entertaining."

"What are y'all doing? Having a secret meeting in there?" Aaron jokes. "Where you been? I came by last night and no one is home, tonight the same. Aren't you supposed to be at work, Miranda?"

He chatters on like an inquisitive little boy, not pausing long enough for us to answer.

"How come you got the night off?" he asks.

"Hold on, slick," I say, giving myself a minute to process the onslaught of questions. "We just came from the hospital."

"Your mom sick?" Aaron asks.

"No. Dougie was attacked. He's been unconscious since he was found."

"He in a coma?"

I look over at Waylon. I don't really know if he was in a coma. Unconscious was what I heard. Are they the same thing or are they different. "I don't know. He's just unconscious."

"Well, shit. That sucks. He gonna be okay?" He switches his gaze from me to Waylon. "Geez, Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I woulda said a prayer for him, had I known."

"You can still say one," I say, moving around him to continue to the door. "Mitch is bringing ice cream, if you want to come inside and have some."

"Sure. I'll be right back. I got some more stuff for my book." He jack rabbits across the yard and disappears into his trailer.

We go inside and Waylon flops on the couch. "Why is it I'm tired, but I really haven't done anything but sit all day for two days."

"Worry will do that to you. And, I'm sure you aren't sleeping at night when you finally do go to bed."

He leans back and tilts his head back on the cushions. "What's gonna happen to him, Miranda? If he does have brain damage, who's gonna take care of him?"

"You can't worry about things that haven't happened. My daddy used to tell me, don't borrow trouble. So, Waylon, we aren't gonna borrow trouble. We are going to take one day at a time."

He nods, but doesn't lift his head to make eye contact. "What did Mitch talk to you about? Remember, he took you into the hall."

I can't tell him the truth. He might confront the Evanoff boy at school, if he thinks I suspect the boy's mother. "He told me he loved me. Kissed me and told me I was gorgeous," I wait for his reaction and he doesn't disappoint.

"Sorry I asked," Waylon mutters. He pulls himself up enough when Aaron knocks on the door and enters.

"I contacted the family of both agents. I'm having a zoom call with each of them. I have a list of questions for them. Man, this is getting so real. I can just feel that this thing is going to be big."

"New York Times, baby," Waylon says. He gets a little spark in his eyes and I know seeing Aaron is helping him get his mind off his father.

"Hey, it could happen. Oh, I said a prayer for your dad. Maybe you should, too, I mean, the power of prayer. Whoa. It's a real thing."

"Thanks, Aaron."

I walk towards the door when I see headlights flicker across the living room wall. I step out onto the porch as Mitch carries the grocery store bag to the house. "Aaron, came over. Hope you have enough for an extra person."

He smiles that reluctant smile he reserves for Aaron. "He isn't high, is he? I don't think I can deal with that tonight."

"High on life," I tease, planting a kiss on his cheek as he gets close enough. "He's all wrapped up in his book idea."

"Book, huh? Bet he gets it printed on rolling papers."

"Stop. Mitch, the man of my dreams, can come in. But Officer Mitch has to stay outside, unless, he has a search warrant."

"Mitch, the man of your dreams, is coming in."

There is an uneasy peace between Aaron and Mitch. Sometimes it's almost nerve wrecking, other times, it's just amusing. Thankfully, they both are courteous, and seem to be focusing on keeping Waylon from falling into a dark spot tonight.

Aaron tells Mitch about the research he's done. While he does that, I go to the phone, dig through the junk drawer, and find Colleen Weaver's card. After three rings, she answers.

"Colleen, it's Miranda," I say.

"Oh, hello. Why are you calling me?"

This girl has no filter. But there are times when I'm guilty of the same thing. I decide to dive right in. "Well, I'm calling in a favor."

"I owe you a favor?"

"I've been two very good stories for you. I did notice that you went from Colleen Weaver, associate reporter to Feature writer. I'm gonna take credit for that, thank you very much."

"What do you want, Miranda?"

I glance over at Aaron who is entertaining both Waylon and Mitch with his story. I turn my back to them and in a hushed tone whisper into the phone, "I want you to help my friend write his book."

There is silence for a moment. "You want me to write a book for your friend?"

"No. I said help him. Look, he's a really nice guy. Cute, rich, single, but he doesn't know a comma from a semi colon. Besides, it's a good story."

"How cute and how rich?"

I smile. Wording is everything. "Think Hollywood."

"Okay. I'm in. One question, Miranda. Is he an idiot? As in, am I going to be the one writing this book?"

Again, wording is everything. "Think Hollywood, Colleen. Talk later."



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