A Waffle Death by P.D. Workman

Author:P.D. Workman [Workman, P.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: pd workman

CHAPTER 24

Erin felt the blood drain from her face.

Stuff about her? What could Brandon write about her?

It wasn’t like she had been involved in any criminal behavior that she was afraid he would reveal. They hadn’t been knocking off liquor stores or doing drug deals together. Brandon had done a lot of crazy things, but Erin hadn’t been a part of that. If he said that she had, he would be lying. But when had the truth ever been the barrier to a good story?

Despite her thought that he didn’t have enough material in him for a memoir, Brandon had been a good storyteller. He had an endless supply of stories, mostly things that had happened to other people with some extra embellishments. It wasn’t unusual for him to have the whole room on the edges of their seats or in stitches. He reveled in the spotlight.

“I have no idea what he might have written,” Erin told Wilmot, shaking her head. “What makes you think it would be the truth?”

If the police already had Brandon’s manuscript and were reading through it, she didn’t want there to be any doubt that every word in there was probably a lie.

“Brandon liked to get people’s attention. He liked to tell stories. I’m sure that’s all he’s done if he’s really written something that he called a memoir. He’s made up a bunch of stories and put them together like it really happened.”

“And does that worry you?”

Erin swallowed and kept her face blank and unconcerned. “No. Why should it? Anyone who knows Brandon will know that it isn’t true. And it’s not like he’s some famous person or bestselling author. Why would anyone care about the stuff he did when he was drunk? That’s not literature.”

Sheriff Wilmot nodded slowly. He wrote a few notes in his pad. “You wouldn’t be concerned if he got a big book deal?”

“A big book deal?” Erin repeated. “I doubt he’d get any book deal. A big book deal? How would he get that? No one knows him. You can’t get into those big publishers just because you send them your manuscript. You have to have an agent and… something really good. Not some no-name telling all of his favorite drunk stories.”

“We haven’t heard the details of the deal yet. We are following up on that. It’s slow going because we don’t have the name of his agent or who the deal is with. Just that he had been telling people he got a big deal.”

Erin poured boiling water into cups and took them to the table with the rest of the tea things. “I’d take that with a grain of salt. The guy isn’t known for his honesty.”

“Wasn’t.”

“What?” Erin sat down and picked out a teabag for herself. Something herbal that wouldn’t keep her awake.

“He wasn’t known for his honesty. You said isn’t.”

“Oh.” Erin shook her head, thinking about it. “I guess maybe I haven’t accepted that he’s dead. I mean, I know he is, but… talking about the way things used to be… I guess it hasn’t really sunk in.

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